US Air Force Capt Lance Sijan: POW & Medal of Honor Recipient Vietnam War

Welcome back, everyone! Before I tell you the amazing story about Air Force Captain Lance Sijan, I want to share a brief story about Marine Corps PFC Luther Skaggs and his Medal of Honor action during WWII. The audio I’ll play comes from a short we released on our YouTube channel, where we share daily videos honoring our nation’s heroes.  If you enjoy hearing these longer stories, I’m sure you’ll appreciate the Duty & Valor YouTube channel as well.

Amid the ferocious Battle of Guam from July 21-22, 1944, Private First Class Luther Skaggs demonstrated unwavering courage and determination while serving as a squad leader with the 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marines, 3rd Marine Division.

Shortly after landing under an intense Japanese mortar barrage, Skaggs’ section leader was critically wounded. 

Without hesitation, he took command, leading his men 200 yards through relentless enemy fire to secure a position with a clear vantage point over a strategic cliff—a key objective in the assault.

Throughout the night, PFC Skaggs and his men valiantly defended their position, repelling fierce counterattacks from determined Japanese forces. 

In the midst of the brutal combat, a grenade landed directly in his foxhole and exploded, shattering his lower leg. 

Though grievously wounded, he improvised a tourniquet and, refusing to be silenced, propped himself up in his foxhole and continued the fight.

For the next eight grueling hours, PVT Skaggs held the line, firing his rifle and hurling grenades at the enemy, ensuring his position remained secure.

Despite his wounds, he later crawled unassisted to the rear, refusing to withdraw completely until the enemy threat had been neutralized.

For his actions that night, PFC Luther Skaggs Jr. was awarded the Medal of Honor.  

Luther Skaggs Jr. was later promoted to Corporal and remained in the Marine Corps until 1946, he passed away on Apr. 6, 1976 at the age of 53.

Now on today's main story, you’ll hear about Air Force Capt. Lance Sijan.  As a pilot during the Vietnam War, Capt Sijan ejected over enemy territory, surviving alone despite life-threatening injuries. When captured by North Vietnamese forces, he endured brutal torture and relentless interrogations, yet never broke, refusing to betray his fellow servicemembers.  This is his story.

Lance was born on April 13, 1942, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, to Sylvester and Jane Sijan. The oldest of three siblings, he spent his childhood in Milwaukee, where his father owned a restaurant.

After graduating from Bay View High School, where he competed in swimming, track, and football, Sijan attended the Naval Academy Preparatory School. While it’s unclear why he didn’t pursue the Naval Academy, he ultimately received an appointment to the U.S. Air Force Academy instead.

At the Academy, he played football and graduated in 1965 with a degree in Humanities. Commissioned as a Second Lieutenant, he began undergraduate pilot training, eventually qualifying to fly the F-4 Phantom II, a two-seat fighter jet. 

Assigned to the 480th Tactical Fighter Squadron, 366th Fighter Wing, he deployed to Da Nang Air Base, South Vietnam, to serve in the Vietnam War.

By November 1967, 1st Lt. Sijan had flown 66 combat sorties over Vietnam. Though not piloting from the front seat, he served as the weapons systems officer in the rear seat for most, if not all, of those missions.

On November 9, 1967, Sijan was in that same role aboard an F-4C Phantom II with the call sign AWOL 1, piloted by his squadron commander, Lt. Col. John Armstrong. Their mission: a nighttime attack on a strategic river crossing along the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos.

Approximately 40 minutes after takeoff, AWOL 1 and its wingman, AWOL 2, approached the target. The area was illuminated by flares dropped from a forward air control aircraft, guiding them toward their objective.

As they released their 750-pound bombs, a premature detonation from one of the fuses caused a bomb to explode, engulfing their F-4C Phantom in flames. The aircraft plummeted toward the ground, and neither AWOL 2 nor the forward air controller spotted any parachutes.

Both were presumed to have been killed in the explosion, but search and rescue efforts were launched just in case they survived. Throughout the night and into the next day, no radio contact was made with LT Col Armstrong or LT Sijan. 

Then, in the early hours of November 11, roughly 36 hours from when they went down, overhead F-4s and F-100s suddenly picked up a transmission—it was Lt. Sijan.

Unseen by the other pilots, Lt. Sijan managed to eject from his stricken aircraft. In the darkness, he slammed into trees and crashed against the rocky face of a mountain. The violent forces of the explosion, ejection, and impact left him severely injured—with a skull fracture, a compound fracture of his left leg, and a serious wound to his right hand.

It is believed that the lack of radio communication for over a day was due to LT Sijan being either unconscious or suffering from delirium caused by his injuries.

To confirm it was truly LT Sijan sending out the radio transmission and not an enemy deception, a pilot asked a prearranged challenge question:

"Who is the greatest football team in the world?"

Without hesitation, the voice—belonging to a man from Wisconsin—answered:

"The Green Bay Packers."

After they confirmed it was really him, the search and rescue efforts kicked into high gear.   

More than 108 aircraft took part in the rescue mission, each assigned a critical role. Some aircraft were deployed to suppress enemy air defenses, while others maintained radio contact with Sijan. Meanwhile, additional aircraft circled overhead, scanning the terrain in an effort to locate him.

Of the aircraft involved, 20 were hit by enemy fire and forced to return to base. One A-1H Skyraider was shot down, but fortunately, the pilot was rescued by a search and rescue helicopter.

The rescuers faced a dense jungle canopy, making it nearly impossible to see the ground. It was so thick that Lt. Sijan couldn’t spot the aircraft above him. In an attempt to pinpoint his location, they had him listen for the aircraft and report when the sound was loudest, but this proved unsuccessful for some time.

Eventually, a CH-3 Jolly Green Giant helicopter managed to get an approximate fix on LT Sijan’s location. Hovering over the area, they informed him that they were lowering a PJ—an elite Air Force pararescueman trained for combat search and rescue.

But Sijan refused to risk another man’s life to save his own. Over the radio, he insisted:

"There are bad guys down here… Just drop the penetrator."

He was asking the crew to lower the rescue cable, planning to drag himself to it and hold on.

As the penetrator descended, they heard his last transmission:

"I see you, I see you. Stay where you are, I'm coming to you."

The helicopter hovered for 33 minutes, waiting for LT Sijan to emerge. But he never made it—and was never heard from again. With enemy threats mounting, and fearing a trap, the crew was ordered to abort the mission.

Efforts to locate Lt. Sijan resumed the next morning, but despite their best attempts, they found no sign of him. With no further leads, all rescue operations were called off, and he was officially listed as Missing in Action (MIA).

Miraculously Lt. Sijan was still alive. However, the exact reason he couldn’t reach the jungle penetrator remains unclear from the sources I used for this story. Perhaps he spotted enemy forces lying in wait, or maybe the severity of his injuries caused him to lose consciousness, only to wake and find the helicopter gone. Unfortunately, we can’t say for certain.

Despite his grievous injuries, Lt. Sijan could only crawl or drag himself along on his backside, yet he still managed to evade North Vietnamese forces. He endured unimaginable hardships—no food, no water, no survival kit, and no relief from the relentless jungle.

To survive, he ate whatever he could find—plants, moss, insects, and grubs. His only sources of water were rainfall, morning dew, or the occasional mountain stream. Every moment was a battle against pain, exhaustion, and the jungle.

For 46 days, Lt. Sijan dragged himself through the jungle, but on Christmas morning he was spotted attempting to cross a road, just three miles from where he first landed.

At any moment, he could have surrendered, revealing his location to the enemy and ending his suffering. But LT Sijan remained steadfast in his commitment to evasion, living by Article II of the Military Code of Conduct:

“I will never surrender of my own free will.”

Lt Sijan was taken to a nearby camp where he was confined to a bamboo hut.  Upon arrival, his captors stripped him of his flight suit, dressing him in simple pants and a cotton shirt.  His left leg was so swollen that they had to cut it to accommodate its size. 

Though given rice and water, he could barely eat. What he desperately needed were medical supplies, but none were provided. 

After several days, LT Sijan devised an escape plan. With no one else nearby, he lured his guard in close, then struck him at the base of the skull, knocking him unconscious. He seized the guard’s carbine and crawled away, determined to flee.

But his injuries made it impossible to get far. Later that same day, he was recaptured.

Though he failed in the escape attempt, he exhibited Article III of the Code of Conduct, which state:

“If I am captured, I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and aid others to escape.”

On Jan. 1, 1968, Lt. Sijan arrived at a holding compound in Vinh, North Vietnam. In the cells next to him were Major Bob Craner and Capt. Guy Gruters, both of whom had been captured after their F-100F was shot down on Dec. 20.

It was dark when Lt Sijan arrived, so they couldn’t see who it was, but soon, they heard the sounds of an interrogator entering his cell. The interrogator began demanding military information, and when Sijan refused, they could hear the sounds of him twisting LT Sijan’s injured arm in an attempt to force him to talk.

Through the torture and agony, all they heard was LT Sijan’s weak but unwavering response:

“Sijan. My name is Lance Peter Sijan.”

With these words, he again demonstrated his commitment to the Military Code of Conduct, this time abiding by Article V, which states:

“When questioned, should I become a prisoner of war, I am required to give name, rank, service number and date of birth. I will evade answering further questions to the utmost of my ability. I will make no oral or written statements disloyal to my country and its allies or harmful to their cause.”     

Over the next few days, Lt. Sijan drifted in and out of delirium, but when he was clear-headed, he always asked the others when they would attempt to escape—insisting that he had done it once and could do it again. Despite his severe injuries, he remained determined and never complained about his pain. When Major Craner and Capt. Gruters asked how he was holding up, he would simply downplay his suffering.

Several days later, the guards ordered Major Craner and Capt. Gruters to assist Sijan into an awaiting truck. This was the first time they truly saw the extent of his condition. Though it was clear he was tall, 6ft 2in., his body was shockingly frail—he weighed just 100 pounds, less than half his normal weight.  Lt. Sijan's condition was so deteriorated that Capt. Gruters didn’t even recognize him—despite the fact that they had been in the same squadron at the Air Force Academy just three years earlier. 

The men were placed in the back of a truck where the two men took turns, one holding on to Lt Sijan while the other kept two 55-gallon fuel drums from falling on them. 

Their days long journey was brutal and LT Sijan’s condition grew worse and at one point the other two thought he was dead, only to be relieved when he stirred.

On January 13, 1968, they finally arrived at the "Hanoi Hilton" which was known for its brutal conditions.

The two men carried LT Sijan into a cell in the New Guy Village section of the prison—an area where the North Vietnamese focused on breaking new arrivals. But despite their relentless efforts, Lt. Sijan refused to break.

After arriving, he received only minimal medical care, far less than his condition required. He continued to slip in and out of delirium, yet true to his nature, whenever his mind was clear, he would ask the others,

“How secure is this place? How are we going to get out of here?”

Unfortunately, LT Sijan never had another chance to escape confinement.

On Jan. 18, five days after arriving at the Hanoi Hilton, LT Sijan developed pneumonia and died four days later. 

Maj. Craner and Capt. Gruter weren’t aware that LT Sijan had passed as they were moved to a smaller prison camp.  While there, they spotted a familiar guard and asked him about Sijan.  The terse response they got back was “Sijan spend too long in the Jungle.  Sijan die.”

Months after his death, Lance Sijan was posthumously promoted to Captain.

When Major Craner was released from captivity in 1973, he nominated Capt Sijan for the Medal of Honor.   He said of Capt Sijan, “He was what the military hopes it can produce in every man, but rarely does.”

In 1974, Capt Sijan’s remains, and grave marker, were returned to the US where he was reinterred at Arlington Park Cemetery in Milwaukee. 

Lt. Col. John Armstrong was initially declared MIA and later listed as KIA. I couldn't find any record of his remains being recovered—I hope I'm wrong. His family, like all families of the missing, deserves closure.

Capt Sijan’s Medal of Honor recommendation was approved and on March, 4, 1976, President Gerald Ford presented his medal to his parents, Sylvester and Jane. 

To date, Capt Sijan is the only Air Force Academy graduate to be awarded the Medal of Honor.

Among other honors, every year the Air Force presents four Airmen with the Lance P. Sijan Award for outstanding leadership.

Capt. Lance Sijan's legacy is one of unwavering courage, resilience, and an unbreakable will to uphold the ideals of duty and honor. Despite unimaginable suffering, he never surrendered—choosing instead to endure, resist, and inspire those around him.

Thank you for listening to this episode of Duty & Valor. If you enjoyed this episode and our show in general, please like, follow, and share our show wherever you’re listening.  You can also support the show directly at patreon.com/dutyandvalor or by becoming a member of our Duty & Valor YouTube community. 

To read more about this week’s hero, check out the sources used in today's episode in our show notes and at dutyandvalor.com.

Remember, we release new episodes on the Duty & Valor YouTube channel on Fridays at 5 pm. On our channel, we also release YouTube shorts that highlight our Nation’s heroes, many of whom haven’t been featured on the show yet.

Please join us for our next episode, where we'll be sharing the inspiring story of another American hero who served with pride and lived with humility.