Pam Cain

As the daughter of Col Oscar Mauterer, MIA in Laos on February 15, 1966, my family and I have not seen my Dad since late 1965 and until 2010, knew very little about what could have happened to him that day when his A-1E was hit and caught fire, prompting him to successfully parachute into trees. He was seen on the ground but never heard from again. The first several years were turbulent, confusing, fearful at times; a mix of hope, grief and longing as we searched and fought for answers that seemed impossible. We wondered what was being done to find him, simply wanted to learn the facts, and I grew up hearing possible stories that could be correlated to Dad. He was “Last Known Alive”, in other words, the government of Vietnam and/or Laos should have information, but still there was nothing. For too many years, we had to push our own government to recognize its responsibility to achieve the fullest possible accounting of our missing. We also lived in isolation from others with similar experiences for years and were told repeatedly not to talk about Dad’s loss or it may harm his chances of being rescued or coming home alive. I watched news coverage of the released POWs as they stepped off their planes onto American soil, truly happy for them and their families but agonizing that my Dad was not one of them.

I became active in the POW/MIA issue in the early 1980s, when I finally realized that my Dad was not coming home until and unless we became vocal, knowledgeable about the issue and did everything we could to get answers. The National League of POW/MIA Families, the organization I joined at that time, provided opportunities to meet other MIA families and feel the support, comradery and understanding that had been such a void until then. The League also had a strong mission which allowed me to be part of on-going efforts to find our loved ones. As a result, my focus has widened to work on behalf of all those missing and unaccounted for as well as my Dad. This is not a journey I would seek out for myself, but my Dad and every other MIA is worth it.

Far too many still remain unaccounted for, but it is my hope that what I and many others endured will not have to be repeated. All those serving in harm’s way today and tomorrow must have complete confidence that their country will do everything possible to bring them home should they be taken prisoner or become missing. For me, I need my Dad brought home and buried in the country he loved so much.

The National POW MIA Memorial & Museum is absolutely necessary to preserve stories of the families and to document, teach others and remember the men and women who served, were taken prisoner or are/were missing. This comprehensive but wide-ranging project is historical and will be a place of solace, reflection, learning and research. There is no other place like it. And we desperately need it both now and for generations to come.