Although we tend to think of the POW/MIA issue as being an American one there are POW/MIA(s) from other countries. I have often wondered how those families felt about the way the United States Government has neglected to admit there were men and women left behind and put forth the effort to bring all the POW/MIA(s) home.

Keyley M. Hobbes (Cian) sent in a request to adopt a POW/MIA. Jeff Grote sent his information to him and I met him a short while later. He has a web site up for the POW/MIA(s) and his interest and desire to become involved with Operation Just Cause has impressed me. I wanted the opportunity to write an article on a POW/MIA from one of those other countries. When asked, Cian agreed to answer the questions needed for the article. The Moonduster Chronicles is proud to introduce you to POW/MIA Ian McIntosh and his nephew, Keyley M. Hobbes:

McINTOSH, IAN

Name: Ian McIntosh
Rank/Branch: W1/US Army
Unit: Company A, 2nd Battalion, 17th Cavalry, 101st Airborne Division
Date of Birth: 21 September 1945 (Scotland)
Home City of Record: St. Catherine's, Ontario, Canada
Date of Loss: 24 November 1970
Country of Loss: South Vietnam
Loss Coordinates: 162919N 1064756E (XD920237)
Status (in 1973): Killed/Body Not Recovered
Category: 4
Aircraft/Vehicle/Ground: OH6A
Refno: 1678

Source: Compiled from one or more of the following: raw data from U.S. Government agency sources, correspondence with POW/MIA families, published sources, interviews. Updated by the P.O.W. NETWORK in 1998.

Other Personnel in Incident: (none missing)

REMARKS:

SYNOPSIS: The OH6A Cayuse (commonly called "Loach") was the result of the U.S. Defense Department's vision of a single helicopter able to perform such duties as personnel or cargo transport, light ground attack, casualty evacuation, observation, and photographic reconnaissance. It proved most effective at visual reconnaissance, however, searching out the enemy even in heavily defended areas, as the crew peered through gaps in the jungle canopy from the oval pod-shaped aircraft.

On November 24, 1970, WO1 Ian McIntosh was an observer on an OH1A helicopter (tail number 67-16484), flown by Capt. Robert J. Young, on an armed reconnaissance mission with two Cobra gunships southeast of Khe Sanh.

The aircraft had been flying for approximately an hour and 3 minutes when the crew observed what appeared to be a new NVA living area. The Cobra gunships engaged the target, and the OH6A subsequently entered the target area to assess the damage. The OH6A was hit by automatic rifle fire on the underside in the left front area where WO1 McIntosh was sitting (nearly the entire front from above head level to below knee level was glass).

Capt. Young immediately left the target area, noticing that WO1 McIntosh was in a great deal of pain and trying to straighten up. At that time, the aircraft engine quit, so the pilot attempted to land in an open area. The aircraft burst into flames before crashing in the vicinity. Capt. Young believed WO McIntosh died shortly after the crash. The flames were starting to enter the cockpit, so the pilot pulled himself out, and just as he got out, the aircraft became engulfed in flames. Three minutes later, the helicopter exploded with WO1 McIntosh still inside.

Ian McIntosh was declared Killed, Body Not Recovered. His name appears among the missing because no body was found to return home for burial. He is one of two Canadians on the U.S. military rolls of missing, and one of many from that country that willingly volunteered to fight against the spread of communism in Southeast Asia.

The cases of many of the missing are not so easily closed. Some were photographed as captives; some wrote letters home from POW camps. Others were alive and well the last they were seen or heard from, describing an advancing enemy. Still others simply disappeared.

Thousands of reports continue to mount that Americans are alive in Southeast Asia, held prisoners, yet the U.S. seems unable or unwilling to secure their freedom. Men like Ian McIntosh freely gave all they had for the price of freedom. Can we turn our backs on these men?

Cian graciously answered the following questions about his Uncle Ian McIntosh?

How did you get involved in doing the research for your Uncle's, POW/MIA Ian McIntosh incident?

Oh boy, I was hoping that this would be a later question – much later (nervous laughter)!

I remember over-hearing a conversation about 5 years ago between my mother and her surviving brother and two sisters. One of the women (unsure if it was an aunt or my mother), had said, “If Ian were here, he'd be 'over the Hill'!” (50 years old).

Now, I knew I had an Uncle Ian, and as a child whenever I asked about his absences from the family gatherings, I was rebuffed and the topic was changed. My mother and Nan (step-grandmother) gave me stern looks, told to me stop eavesdropping on adult conversations and to go play with my siblings and cousins.

By the time I was in my mid-20s, I was finally too old to be afraid of those sternly old maid stares, because I'd look right back at them the same way! It was a standoff and they knew it! “What happened to my uncle?” I'd just ask them again, and continue to ask, until I was satisfied with an answer.

It took a few years, but my mother finally blurted out through tears one day, that her brother was “mad (crazy) and went to the Americas to get himself killed.” Upon hearing this, I knew I wasn't going to get a half-decent answer without bitter opinions, long pent-up anger and frustration thrown in with it.

About two years ago, I got a computer and started surfing around looking for possible sources of military information and things slowly took off from there.

I believe it was a year ago (may have been longer) that I located the OJC web site – I forget how I got there, I think someone pointed me to it. I read through bits and pieces and my sister thought that if Uncle Ian was killed in 'Nam, then someone there (at OJC) might have some information on him. We both agreed that the best place to start would be the Adoption Agency.

I drafted a letter two-fold: [1] was there anything on Ian McIntosh; and, (in case there wasn't), [2] and also my interest in adopting a US Marine.

It seems strange but I still have the response from your son Jeff, Grote. Surprisingly, he had sent more than I expected to find out about Ian, whom I had not identified as my uncle, at that time. With the POW/NET information supplied by Jeff, I had a few more possible resources to seek out, namely the military unit that Ian served with.

Later, with my sister's help, I was very fortunate to locate the Alpha Troop, 2/17 Air Cavalry, 101 Airborne (Airmobile) Alumni Association website and I thank The Man Above daily for all the help and information those gents were more than willing to provide!

Do you have memories of Ian from when you were a child?

Foremost, I remember the first time I heard his bagpipes squealing. I thought some poor beast was stuck in the moors up to its neck and bleating for help! I ran as quickly as I could to my mother, begging and pleading with her to call the RSPCA (Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals), to help rescue that unfortunate animal!

Ian also told me countless bedtime stories that usually kept me awake half the night. The results of which had me running and crying to my parents in the wee small hours, with nightmares of slimy, gooey creatures hiding under my bed waiting for the perfect time to suck my brains out after I fell asleep! Note: I now tell similar stories, in rhyme, to my three lads – so I think I've come full circle!

Can you share the family memories you have been told about him?

The first thing I remember being told was that he was my Godfather at my Christening. He also sang at the service and continued to sing me to sleep a few times over the years, whenever I was over-tired.

Da had told me that my uncle sang like Caruso, but that gentleman, I believe, was a tenor. Ian was a baritone and it was usually him who led everyone in Christmas carols, while one of my aunts accompanied him on piano. Whenever he sang “O Holy Night,” it became a solo. No one else in the house dared to sing with him -- all were much too content listening, even the babies hushed to hear him.

Many times when I was crying from teething discomfort, he'd sing to me, but with my sweet and painful contribution, it sounded like a horrid duet to my mother! She told him to quiet down his “favourite little critic” or take me outside. He chose the former and allowed me to gnaw on the middle knuckle of his index finger. Some how, I managed to put a good bite on him, because he was singing a different tune soon after: “Get this little beggar off me!” repeatedly.

There were some quiet evenings (hard to believe, I know), when he'd sit at the dining table for hours with pen and paper and scribble away feverishly. He loved to read (especially history) and was a “talented” writer. He had been attending university to become a history teacher when he dropped everything to enlist – everyone in the family I have spoken to have no idea why he did so.

How has your family dealt with Ian being listed as a POW/MIA?

I was only a little more than seven years old when he died. I recall Nan being very grim at Christmas time that year and Da was sullen. I remember them as being the cheeriest pair at the holiday season, but not then or any time after that. There was no singing at all that year, understandably so, but there has been little to no singing since.

Unfortunately, I believe that the one who was hit hardest would have to have been my mother. She still remains tight-lipped about what she knows or what she wants to know, but it is easily seen in her eyes whenever his name is mentioned that she is holding in the pain, the hurt, anger and resentment.

Sometime between Uncle's birthday (24 NOV) and Christmas, she mentions some little thing about him in passing conversation, then regains her composure and changes the topic. The last time she mentioned him, she was resentful that Ian had gone overseas to fight in a campaign that he had absolutely no business getting involved in!

Mum and Ian were always close, I have been told. When one got into trouble the other would confess and take the blame. Sometimes they'd argue as to who was at fault, each one claiming sole responsibility. The bickering usually resulted in being banished from Gram's (my grandmother's) kitchen -- or the house -- until dinner was ready, or until Da got back from his work in the dairy barn or from the fields.

In August 1959, my grandmother died from cancer of the brain. It had begun as a tumour behind her right eye and the pressure from it resulted in blindness to that eye ten years earlier. Ian and my mother were inseparable from that time on. Then, by April 1960, Da re-married and that woman I would later come to know was my Nan.

One of the things the families of the American POW/MIA(s) can hold on to is their relative was doing what our Government asked them to do? Do you understand why the Canadian men volunteered to fight in Vietnam with the American Military?

No, I can't say that I do understand that concept. The American government was seeking their people to fight in a foreign country of which, to my limited knowledge, was not an American interest (example the Virgin Islands). This, in conjunction with my unanswered questions brought on by my research, have been haunting me for years and it disturbs me that no one can answer them truthfully or account for their lack of action for restitution to the surviving families.

Why was the US government so adamant to be involved in this mess (Vietnam)? Were they (the political representatives) hoping to be considered heroes for liberating the Vietnam peoples of their civil unrest? Why have they (the members of the US Government) been acting like cowards for the last thirty-plus years turning deaf ears and blind eyes to the many individuals (the majority being fellow Americans) they abandoned over there?

My Da had written once to your then-President James Earl CARTER, upon the tenth anniversary of Ian's death (1980). Two years later, Da died of a heart attack with no further details as to what had happened to his young-man son.

If your President Carter ever saw my grandfather's correspondence, I do not know. There was no form of acknowledgement or reply -- but then I do not believe my Da ever expected one.

One late evening, though, he had later told me what he had written to the White House's chief resident:

Dear Sir:
The next time a war transpires the American Department of Defense would be wise to suit up and send out all of your politicians – including the present president – and have them fight the war.

The cost of training these said individuals would be slim to none, Sir, since politicians are so well versed in shooting off their mouths! The war's outcome would either end before it started, be deemed unnecessary resulting in everyone playing a couple friendly rounds of golf, or it would be reasoned out with a lot of insults and name-calling.

Do you see any effort being put forth from the Canadian Government to bring their POW/MIA(s) home?

No, Canada's involvement was not as evidently predominant as the role taken by the Americans, if Canada got officially involved at all, I am uncertain. My uncle was not wearing a Canadian service uniform, thusly it would not be the Canadian government's responsibility to return him home because they did not supply him the free ride over there.

How do you accept the fact that your Uncle was a part of the American forces in Vietnam and then was abandoned by the Government of the United States in Vietnam?

Truth to tell, I still cannot understand to this day HOW he was accepted into the United States Army in the first place! He did not lie and supply an American residence at enlistment, but his home address in Ontario, Canada! And furthermore too, he was not an American Citizen, but a British Subject that was born in Aberdeen, Scotland who had immigrated to Canada only 20 years earlier!

How he had gotten past the initial screening process is beyond me – although I had tried to apply to the US Marine Corps when the Desert Shield incident started and was turned down because of my citizenship; so it makes no sense to me at all, unfortunately. What was so special about him that the recruiters could not turn him away?

Why he was left there at the time of the war, I do understand. Many of my uncle's service mates who knew him, and were flying with him the day he was killed, wrote detailed accounts in letters and e-mails to me, explaining their many efforts to try and retrieve him. The area where he went down was a “hot zone” for a long period of time. I blame them not – they put forth an ongoing effort to get my uncle on many occasions and were rebuffed each time.

WHY he is still over there disturbs me. He has had no true burial, and due to his circumstances it would be an empty feeling to have a funeral for him. Personally speaking, I strongly believe that there is nothing left of him to bury! When the Cayuse helicopter he was in exploded, I feel that he was cremated and his remains scattered over the country he felt so strongly about protecting and helping. Unfortunately, it leaves a bitter taste in the mouths of my family – it is difficult to grieve during the burial of an empty pine box.

To place a grave marker in a cemetery for him would not be necessary either. It would merely be as bland and cold as the stone his details would be written upon, serving as a defiant symbol of the uncaring individuals of elected political offices, who could not be bothered cleaning up the unforgiving mess left behind by a previous government.

Uncle Ian is dead and won't be coming home. My family and I must deal with this sad truth somehow as best we can. It brings further pain that we are not able to get his remains returned to us, but there have been many others spotted alive in Vietnam or who there is strong reason to believe that their remains could be located and returned home.

We must strive to bring these men and women back to their families; and as a new member of OJC, I am here for as long as it takes.