This past Memorial Day, a
Vietnam veteran in London, Ohio, shared a harrowing story.
He told a newspaper reporter
how, when he was an Army private in 1967, a North Vietnamese soldier
climbed a tree, stuck a P-10 pistol into his ear and took him
prisoner. How he survived for three months on dirty water and an ounce
of rice a day.
He said he escaped by breaking a
guard's neck and shooting the others with the AK-47 he ripped from
that dead soldier's hands.
He claimed he ran barefoot
through the jungle for 10 days to reach a Marine stronghold. He said
he earned a Silver Star for his troubles.
Within hours of the story being
published in The Madison Press, a woman in rural
Missouri heard her computer make a familiar noise.
Ding.
A Google Internet alert let Mary
Schantag know that someone, somewhere, was claiming to be a Vietnam
War prisoner. She scanned the London story, checked the Department of
Defense online list of war prisoners -- the man wasn't on it -- and
then she got busy.
By day's end, 63-year-old
Kenneth Eugene Reed was branded a liar on Schantag's Web site, http://www.pownetwork.org.
Then a large, well-connected
network of people scattered across the country spread the word on
blogs that the story couldn't possibly be true.
Schantag's group started
archiving POWs' stories 20 years ago. Now, it and others like it work
just as hard to expose fakes, and they all wanted Reed outed.
"We're not talking about an
embellished story in the back room of a Friday night fish fry at a
VFW," said Schantag, the 56-year-old wife of a former Marine.
"We're talking about men
claiming medals that they don't have, men who say they endured torture
and prison camps when they didn't. "Putting a fake hero on stage
with a real one is an insult. These men left their blood and their
body parts on the battlefields and these fakes steal their stories,
but they don't steal their nightmares or their pain."
Reed apparently did spend 17
years in the U.S. Army and served in Vietnam. He is a decorated
veteran with a Purple Heart. Madison County Veterans Service Officer
Rodger Baker confirmed that.
He said privacy rules kept him
from providing Reed's records, but he said Reed doesn't have all the
medals he claimed and that he was not a prisoner of war.
Last month, Reed admitted to The
Madison Press that his story was untrue, and he apologized to the
paper, the community and other veterans.
In an interview with The
Dispatch last week, Reed didn't want to say much and wasn't as
clear. In a circuitous conversation, he often didn't finish his
thought or sentence.
When asked whether he was a
prisoner of war, he said no. Then, he said this: "I am not a
liar. I told the truth."
When asked whether he had been
awarded, as he had claimed, a Silver Star, the military's third
highest honor, he said, "I had one, but there's no record of
it."
Reed said he made a living
mostly as a truck driver and worked in a factory. He's retired now, he
said, and doesn't have much contact with any relatives. He lives in
the city of London but said all he's ever really wanted to do is own
land and be a hog farmer.
He is, by all accounts, loyal to
the local American Legion post and helps the veterans organizations
with community events. His friends say
this national dust-up caused barely a stir in town. No one seemed to
care about what he had said.
Reed ended the conversation by
saying he wished he had done things differently in the first
interview.
Why an already-decorated veteran
would make up such a story just for the sake of it seems a bit of a
mystery, said William Schmidt, the commander of Ohio Chapter #1 of the
American ex-Prisoners of War.
Some do it to get things, such
as tax-free benefits and free meals and license plates, but most know
other veterans would quickly recognize the story as false.
"It's like a flute player
who is out of tune," Schmidt said. "Eventually, the
bandmaster will recognize that."
Michael Chakeres, a retired
optometrist from London and a former state commander of the American
Legion, knows Reed well. He has helped his friend cope with the
fallout.
"He didn't mean any harm. I
think he was only trying to get some pats on the back. He wanted
someone to say, 'Good job,' " Chakeres said.
After Reed's story was
published, the national networks called for him to be criminally
charged. The Stolen Valor Act became law in 2006 and made it a federal
offense to falsely claim military honors or lie about combat service.
There have been an estimated 40
prosecutions under the act, according to published reports last year.
The FBI investigates violations, but could not update those numbers or
say whether any of those prosecutions were from Ohio.
A spokesman for U.S. Rep. John
T. Salazar, the Colorado Democrat responsible for the law, said Reed
and others like him are not the intended targets.
"In theory, the Stolen
Valor Act is for those who get something out of their lie, someone who
gets some benefit," spokesman Eric Wortman said.
Salazar has introduced another
bill that would create a public database of all military honors. It is
under consideration by the Armed Services Committee.
Though such a national honor
roll would have many benefits and uses, a clear one would be that a
veteran's claims of medals could be quickly vetted.
Chakeres, a former Navy Seabee,
said veterans are proud of their service and protective of their
sacrifices. He understands the voracity with which these groups go
after someone who lied.
But he said a little empathy for
a misguided veteran can go a long way, too.
hzachariah@dispatch.com