[Congressional Record Volume 160, Number 106 (Wednesday, July 9, 2014)]
[Senate]
[Pages S4287-S4288]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
SALUTING THE FLAG
Mr. REID. Mr. President, yesterday I mentioned to the Senate that I
had been reading a book by Caroline Kennedy called ``A Patriot's
Handbook.'' I have been looking at the book. It was given to my wife
for Mother's Day a number of years ago.
I mentioned yesterday that I read about one of John McCain's
experiences in a Vietnam prison camp. It will take me just a minute and
a half or so to read this, but this is what I paraphrased yesterday
that I will read today. It is ``The Mike Christian Story'' by Senator
John McCain in his book ``Faith of Our Fathers.''
Mike was a Navy Bombardier-navigator who had been shot down
in 1967, about 6 months before I arrived. He had grown up
near Selma, Alabama. His family was poor. He had not worn
shoes until he was 13 years old. Character was their wealth.
They were good, righteous people, and they raised Mike to be
hardworking and loyal. He was 17 when he enlisted in the
Navy. As a young sailor, he showed promise as a leader and
impressed his superiors enough to be offered a commission.
What packages we were allowed to receive from our families
often contained handkerchiefs, scarves, and other clothing
items. For some time, Mike had been taking little scraps of
red and white cloth, and with a needle he had fashioned from
a piece of bamboo he laboriously sewed an American flag into
the inside of his prisoner's shirt. Every afternoon, before
we ate our soup, we would hang
[[Page S4288]]
Mike's flag on the wall of our cell and together recite the
Pledge of Allegiance. No other event of the day had as much
meaning to us.
The guards discovered Mike's flag one afternoon during a
routine inspection and confiscated it. They returned that
evening and took Mike outside. For our benefit as much as
Mike's, they beat him severely, just outside our cell,
puncturing his eardrum and breaking several of his ribs. When
they finished, they dragged him bleeding and nearly senseless
back into our cell, and we helped him crawl to his place on
the sleeping platform. After things quieted down, we all lay
down to go to sleep. Before drifting off, I happened to look
toward a corner of the room, where one of the four naked
light bulbs that were always illuminated in our cell cast a
dim light on Mike Christian. He had crawled there when he
thought the rest of us were sleeping. With his eyes nearly
swollen shut from the beating, he had quietly picked up his
needle and thread and begun sewing a new flag.
I witnessed many acts of heroism in prison, but none braver
than that. As I watched him, I felt a surge of pride at
serving with him, and an equal measure of humility for
lacking that extra ration of courage that distinguished Mike
Christian from other men.
I mentioned this yesterday because I had it in my mind when we
saluted the flag. I said yesterday--and I will repeat and paraphrase
today--when we salute the flag, we should remember the Mike Christians
of the world who sacrificed so much so that we can salute the flag.
____________________