The headline on page one of an Enterprise in February 1973 prompted the editor at that time to have Joe Drutz write a story about his experience as a POW. Pretty cool, don’t you think? So, let’s get right to it.

“It gives me a funny feeling to hear and read about operation ‘Homecoming,’ to read about the preparations and explanations for the return of our prisoners of war.

“You see, once in the dim and almost forgotten past I, too, was prisoner of war.

“I can imagine the thoughts of the returnees, for although there is a great distance in time and geography, the basic feelings must always be the same.

“What’s it like being a P.O.W.?

“First there is the psychological shock of knowing you are going to be in the enemy’s hands and the absolute uncertainty of what will happen. This shock is deepened by the circumstances of your capture, whether it was a fierce fire fight on the ground, an ambush, jumping from a crippled aircraft (as Joe did) and whether or not you were wounded (he was).

“The so-called Geneva Convention for the treatment of prisoners of war, if accepted at all by the enemy, is not foremost in the mind of the people involved with your capture. They might be soldiers whose buddies have just been strafed, civilians homes that have just been bombed or troops that have just been killed.

“After the original shock of capture, there comes a period of disorientation heightened by abuse, interrogation, uncertainty and movement. If captured in a forward area or a remote area, there is constant movement and repetitious interrogations until you arrive in your final prisoner of war camp. Nothing really stabilizes until you are there.

“Adding to the confusion of this period is the constant worry about your family. While the telegram notifying next of kin goes out quite quickly, the report of your status as P.O.W. is not reported, as a rule, until you are in your final camp. You might know you are all right but you worry about the shock to your family. In my case, for example, I was captured on Nov. 21 and was listed as missing in action until mid-April. Only then, did my family find out I was alive and a prisoner of war.

“As days lengthen into months, and months into years, most prisoners become acclimated to their surroundings, way of life and new friends. Short term prisoners, being constantly in a state of flux, suffer greater anxiety. Larger groups acclimate better than small groups because of the feeling of safety in numbers — not particularly for safety’s sake but because the misery is spread somewhat thinner.

“Through imprisonment runs one thread of sanity — ‘What I will do when I get home’ — for in each case, each prisoner knows that he will be going home. Bull sessions may vary in content but most end with a discussion of the future at home.

“One must never underestimate the fantastic resiliency of the American fighting man — the resiliency in mind and body. Every prisoner knows he is going home, knows he will find changes, and in most cases is prepared to accept them.

“Every prisoner knows he is going home to much better conditions than those he has suffered under, to a way of life with which he is familiar and, in fact, he plans for that return almost from the time of his capture.

“Being a prisoner of war is no picnic. Even in the ‘Country Club’ of German prison camps, Stalag Luft, my weight went from 210 pounds to 156. There were many grey days in hospitals, with primitive care, interrogation centers, on trains and in camp, it seemed the war would never be over. But eventually it was.

“Homecoming for me was the old army hurry-up and wait. The Russians liberated us in mid-May but held us in camp for a week while all our records were transcribed into Russian. Then we flew to Rheims, France where we were treated to a chicken dinner — which promptly made us all ill. Then we flew to Camp Lucky Strike near LeHarve, France and waited and waited and waited for 30 days for a boat to take us home. I arrived home in July — over six weeks from the time I was freed.

“At Lucky Strike, besides being put on a bland diet, we were left to our own resources. We were given a superficial medical examination, de-loused and fed. No one asked how we felt or examined our psyche for invisible wounds.

“When we arrived in the United States, we were quickly processed and sent home for 30 days. My first complete medical check-up came some two months later on the day prior to my discharge.

“I still hear from my friends from prison camp days and all made the transition into civilian life without traumatic experiences. Most of us returnees made it simply because we had spent months and years planning on making it.

“I am convinced that those men now returning from the terrors of prison camps in Vietnam will make their transition into their new life, not so much because the military helped them so much at Clark Field, but because they, too, had planned it.”

Joe Drutz was a revered citizen of Saranac Lake. He was a member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars, the General Hospital Board of Directors, the American Legion, the Christian Family Movement and the St. Pius High School Parent-Teachers Educators who named him “Father of the Year” in 1975. He was president of the Rotary Club, the Community Council, the Chamber of Commerce and the Bridge Club. Also, he was Exalted Ruler of the Elks Club and Franklin County Democratic chairman.

Mr. Drutz, age 55, dropped dead of a heart attack Dec. 30, 1975, while playing basketball in a benefit game for the Saranac Lake Arena Fund.

His widow was Beatrice LaPlante, long time go-to staff member of the Adirondack Enterprise, of which Mr. Drutz was associate publisher at the time of his death. They had three daughters: Deborah, Jo Anne and Jean.