MIA/POWs: They are not forgotten Published Sept. 13, 2006 By 1st Lt. Alyson Stockton 96th Air Base Wing Public Affairs EGLIN AIR FORCE BASE, Fla. -- At first glance, 89-year-old retired Tech. Sgt. Peter Loss may not appear to be extremely strong. But as a former prisoner of war, he and others like him have an inner strength that pulled them through days they never thought they'd see end. Sergeant Loss, held by the Japanese as a prisoner of war from April 1942 to September 1945, recalls three occasions he thought were his last living moments: running through a field in the Philippines as explosives whizzed past his head after the Japanese bombed his ammunition train; being searched at gunpoint, on his knees, by a Japanese guard on the Bataan Death March; lying next to a trench at a POW camp in Japan unable to move because of a life-threatening case of dysentery. Sept.15 a grateful nation observes National POW Remembrance Day, and members of Team Eglin and the local community will honor their sacrifices in a 9 a.m. ceremony at the Air Armament Museum. Local POW's, to include Sergeant Loss, will be present, keeping their promise to remember. Sergeant Loss's memories are not typical of the ones people today have when looking back on their twenties. He remembers blowing up remaining ordnance as the Japanese closed in on his Filipino base, then being taken prisoner. He remembers being crammed on a ship and transported to Japan from Camp O'Donnell in the Philippines, standing in line all day to use the crude "bathroom" facilities. He remembers how the one drink of water they got each day came from the same bucket the rice was served in and how that made the water greasy. Sergeant Loss said he no longer has much of a short-term memory, but 64-year-old details come to mind easily: how to say his serial number in Japanese, escape plans, images of his fellow prisoners, names of commanding officers, even the taste of what little food he got to eat. He recalls the day when, near Nagasaki, he heard an explosion that sounded somewhat different from other bombs -- it was the atomic bomb. While he didn't know it at the time, that sound led to his liberation shortly thereafter. Sergeant Loss remembers stuttering as he tried to talk to the Red Cross nurse who administered his medical exam after liberation, and how she was the first woman he had spoken to in years. He remembers that he weighed only 75 pounds, and the route he took home: the Philippines to Guam to Hawaii to San Francisco. Sergeant Loss and his fellow former POW's might have experienced different events, but along with others on Eglin today, they have one thing in common: they remember.