Roy L. Powell served in Vietnam from 1966 to 1970. Four years in a war that tested every soldier who fought there, that demanded endurance and courage beyond what most people can imagine, that left permanent marks on everyone who survived it. Roy was there through some of the war’s most intense years, serving as a Pathfinder—one of the soldiers who went in first to set up landing zones and guide aircraft in dangerous territory.
Captured and held as a POW for six months, he escaped against impossible odds. Six months in captivity during the Vietnam War meant torture, deprivation, psychological warfare, conditions designed to break prisoners. The fact that Roy escaped—that he somehow found a way out when escape seemed impossible—speaks to extraordinary determination and courage. Most POWs who escaped didn’t make it far. Roy did.
A Pathfinder with three Bronze Stars, two Silver Stars, and two Purple Hearts. These aren’t participation awards. Bronze Stars recognize heroic or meritorious achievement in combat. Silver Stars are even rarer, awarded for gallantry in action against an enemy. Purple Hearts mean he was wounded in combat—twice. The collection of medals tells a story of repeated extraordinary service, of a soldier who consistently put himself at risk, who was recognized multiple times for valor.
He fought through incredible adversity. Not just the combat itself, though that was significant. Not just the six months as a POW and the escape, though those would be enough for most lifetimes. But also the aftermath—living with whatever injuries the Purple Hearts represent, carrying whatever psychological weight comes from years of combat and captivity, navigating a life after war that never quite leaves you.
Agent Orange took him 14 years ago. The chemical herbicide used extensively in Vietnam, causing cancers and other diseases in veterans decades after exposure. Roy survived combat, survived captivity, survived escape, made it home—only to be killed decades later by toxic chemicals his own military exposed him to. He died 14 years ago, but his legacy and the need to honor him continues.
But his courage continues to live on in my heart. This is written by Roy’s child, someone who grew up with this hero as a father, who knows him not just as a decorated soldier but as a parent. The pride and grief mixed together—pride in what he accomplished, grief that he’s gone, the need to make sure his story doesn’t disappear into history unremembered.
I’m looking for anyone who served with “Festus”—help me honor the hero who gave everything. “Festus” was apparently Roy’s nickname among his fellow soldiers. The kind of name that comes from shared experiences, from the bonds formed in combat, from the dark humor and camaraderie that help soldiers survive impossible situations. His child is reaching out, trying to find people who knew Roy as Festus, who served alongside him, who can share stories and memories.
Comment if you knew him. A simple request that carries enormous emotional weight. The child of a deceased veteran trying to piece together their father’s story, trying to connect with people who knew him in ways family never could, trying to honor his memory by gathering the stories and testimonies of those who witnessed his courage firsthand.
The photograph shows Roy holding a young child—probably the person who wrote this post. Both have reddish hair, both are smiling at the camera. Roy looks young, probably recently returned from Vietnam, wearing a casual collared shirt. The child is a toddler, maybe two or three years old, grinning with the unselfconscious joy of early childhood. It’s a normal family photograph, the kind taken in countless homes. But knowing Roy’s story—knowing what he survived, what he fought through, what he carried—makes the image more poignant.
This father holding his child had escaped from a POW camp against impossible odds. Had earned three Bronze Stars, two Silver Stars, and two Purple Hearts. Had fought through incredible adversity and survived to come home and be a parent. And now, 14 years after Agent Orange took him, his child is searching for people who knew him as Festus, trying to gather the stories that will keep his memory and his heroism alive.
Pathfinders were elite soldiers who parachuted into dangerous areas ahead of main forces to set up helicopter landing zones and guide aircraft. They operated in small teams in hostile territory, often cut off from support, doing work that was essential but incredibly risky. Roy did this work in Vietnam from 1966 to 1970, during some of the war’s most intense fighting.
Being captured and held as a POW for six months would break many people. The conditions in North Vietnamese POW camps were brutal—torture, starvation, isolation, psychological warfare designed to extract propaganda confessions or simply to break prisoners’ spirits. That Roy not only survived but escaped against impossible odds demonstrates extraordinary strength and determination.
The medals tell the rest of the combat story. Three Bronze Stars mean at least three separate instances of heroic or meritorious achievement significant enough to earn formal recognition. Two Silver Stars mean at least two instances of gallantry in action—distinguished service in combat situations that went beyond normal expectations. Two Purple Hearts mean he was wounded in action twice, injured seriously enough that it warranted official documentation.
This is a soldier who repeatedly put himself at risk, who served with extraordinary courage, who was recognized multiple times for valor. And then, after surviving all of that, after making it home, Agent Orange killed him decades later. The toxic chemical that military assured soldiers was safe, that was sprayed extensively over Vietnam, that has caused cancers and other diseases in hundreds of thousands of veterans.
Roy died 14 years ago. His child has been carrying his memory since then, probably sharing stories with their own children if they have them, keeping Roy’s legacy alive within the family. But now they’re reaching out beyond family, trying to find the men who knew Roy as Festus, who served with him, who witnessed his courage and can speak to it from firsthand experience.
If you served with Festus, if you knew Roy L. Powell in Vietnam from 1966 to 1970, if you remember a Pathfinder who was captured and escaped, if you know stories about this hero who gave everything—his child is looking for you. Help honor his memory. Share what you remember. Let his legacy be preserved not just in medals and official records but in the stories of those who knew him.
Comment if you knew him. Those five words contain a plea from a child who lost their father, who wants the world to know what kind of man he was, who’s trying to gather the pieces of a story that military records alone can’t tell. If you knew Festus, if you served with Roy L. Powell, if you have memories of this hero who fought through incredible adversity and gave everything—please share them. Help his child honor the father who survived so much but was ultimately taken by Agent Orange 14 years ago.
His courage continues to live on. In his child’s heart, in the memories of those who served with him, in the story of a Pathfinder with three Bronze Stars, two Silver Stars, and two Purple Hearts who was captured, escaped against impossible odds, fought through incredible adversity, and gave everything.