Alumnus Thomas Hall Jr. remembered on National POW/MIA Recognition Day

Thomas Hall Jr. ’63 once took a washing machine motor and attached it to a bike, creating his version of a motorbike. He learned how to weld, built go-karts, dabbled in photography, taught himself taxidermy, and even sewed the sails on a sailboat that he constructed for sailing on the James River near his family’s Smithfield home.

He could play the accordion and harmonica, loved to go spelunking, and often went scuba diving off Hatteras Island, refilling his tanks with a compressor setup that he built himself.

Yet of all his traits, arguably finding a way to survive was what this former prisoner of war did best.  

Tom Hall wouldn’t want the attention according to his family, but the alumnus, who passed away in May at the age of 84, certainly warrants on National POW/MIA Recognition Day, observed on the third Friday in September, this year on Sept. 19. Hall survived nearly six years in captivity as a POW during the Vietnam War.

The family knew little about Hall’s time as a POW because he rarely talked about it. He suppressed memories of hellish conditions and fears of never seeing his family again, and upon his return to the States, preferred to focus on the present instead of regretting time lost.

“I think everybody does,” younger sister Eunice Ligon said when asked if she viewed her brother as a war hero. “However, he didn't look at himself as a war hero. He didn't even want people thanking him for his service. He would say, ‘They don't need to do that. There are other guys out there who lost their lives. They are the real heroes.’”

Hall spent a year at William & Mary before enrolling at Virginia Tech – the alma mater of both his father, Thomas ’34, and his uncle, Richard ’32 – to pursue a degree in mechanical engineering from Virginia Tech’s College of Engineering. Two years after graduating, he joined the Navy as a fighter pilot. He initially flew to Pensacola, Florida, and enlisted without telling his parents.

According to his brother, Bob Hall, Tom had developed a longing to fly, and the Navy offered the challenge of landing fighter jets on aircraft carriers.

“He had kind of built and done everything else by then, but he had always wanted to fly and so he joined the Navy and went straight to Pensacola,” Bob Hall said. “I know our dad would have preferred Tommy stay an engineer, but even if he hadn’t, he would have probably been drafted anyway. If you were a healthy, single guy back then, you probably would have been drafted.”

While training in Pensacola, Florida, Tom Hall met and eventually married his wife, Barbara, in 1965. They welcomed their first child in 1966 in between two of his Vietnam deployments.

Hall flew more than 100 combat missions and was shot down twice. The first time came in June 1967 when he was shot down over the Gulf of Tonkin by the Viet Cong and rescued by a U.S. Army helicopter crew. Four days after being rescued, he was shot down again over land and captured by the Viet Cong.

Ligon said that she and her parents were with Barbara in Pensacola when Navy officials notified them of both incidents.

“We knew that Tommy radioed back, said he was surrounded, and told the other pilots to get the hell out of there before they were shot down, too,” Ligon said. “Then he destroyed his radio, as the Navy had instructed him to do. We were told not to say anything to anyone about him possibly being a prisoner, and he was listed as missing in action.”

They found out definitively through good fortune. The Viet Cong allowed some POWs to write their relatives in the early days of the conflict — though not Hall. Instead, one of Hall’s cellmates wrote a subtle message to his wife in a letter, telling her to “have your taxes done by our CPA at Rainbow Farms.” Hall’s father was a CPA and lived in an area called Rainbow Farms near Smithfield, Virginia.

The wife, confused, knew of no CPA or Rainbow Farms, but she, the Navy, and Hall’s family put the pieces together. The prisoner would only get such information from a living Tom Hall.

“They were trying to get the message back that he had been captured and he was alive,” Ligon said. “When we found out he was definitely a POW in Hanoi, we still weren’t allowed to tell anyone because the Navy didn’t want that information to get out. If it were somehow to get back to the Viet Cong, it could put him as well as the prisoner who wrote the information in more danger. During the last three years, Tommy was allowed to occasionally write home, and we were then allowed to tell everyone he was a POW.”

On March 4, 1973 — after spending 2,095 days in captivity — Tom Hall received his freedom. The United States withdrew military forces from Vietnam three weeks later.

Hall returned to the States and was given a hero’s welcome, along with other POWs. For his bravery and service, the Navy presented him with several honors including the Silver Star, Purple Heart, two Bronze Star Medals, Legion of Merit, Distinguished Flying Cross, Prisoner of War Medal, the Navy Commendation Medal, and six Air Medals.

Though he rarely talked about his time as a POW, the scars were visible.

“His back was really bad, just from the blast of being shot out of a plane twice or possibly the torture,” Bob Hall said. “He spent a lot of nights sleeping on the floor.”

Ligon added, “There was something wrong that his legs and feet kept swelling in the last 10 years to the point where he had five different pairs of flip-flops that he had to wear depending on what size his feet were that day. They never could figure out what that was, and we think it was related to his Vietnam visit.”

Tom Hall did not fly in combat again. Instead, he became a flight instructor in Pensacola and later Oceana, Virginia, before retiring from the Navy in 1976.

After retiring, he started building houses and eventually began his own cabinet business. He and his wife raised their five children on a farm in Tyner, North Carolina, about an hour south of Virginia Beach.

He again picked up a wide array of interests, which included a devotion to an assortment of animals – a pet deer that he took on sailing ventures, an egret that he saved, and an African lion named Milo that lived on the farm.

Hall built ultralight aircraft for casual flights. He even constructed a landing strip on his property for takeoffs and landings, proving, as his wife often joked, that nothing could clip his wings.

In addition, he later found the helicopter pilot who rescued him after he was shot down the first time in Vietnam and presented him with a token of appreciation.

“It was customary for the pilot to present the helicopter pilot with a bottle of Jack Daniels,” Bob Hall said. “Well, that didn't happen at the time, because he was shot down again a few days later, and of course, he was captured. But sometime around 10 or 12 years ago, Tommy went to Florida for some type of ceremony. He found the helicopter pilot and gave him a bottle of Jack Daniels.”

This may well be how the family best remembers Tom Hall. He was a great husband, a doting father, a loving brother, and an undisputed war hero. But mostly, he was just a brilliant man who could figure out how to do anything and would do anything for others in need.

“He was just an exceptional guy,” Bob Hall said. “Anyone who became his friend was always his friend.”