Families of Deceased Soldiers Thankful for New Purple Heart Criteria

Oct. 15, 2008— -- Sgt. Coleman Edwards had survived five months of combat when he and his comrades were captured by North Korean forces.

Edwards, who had a young daughter who barely knew him, was strong enough then to help carry his injured troops from the segregated 24th Army Regiment on their grueling trek to the North Korean prison camp.

He was captured Nov. 28, 1950. Four months later, in March 1951, he was dead of starvation and disease.

Now, 57 years later, Edwards is among thousands of deceased prisoners of war who may be eligible for a posthumous Purple Heart under revised Department of Defense eligibility criteria.

Edwards' only child, Gail Embery, has tried for 11 years to get that honor for her father, who died from malnutrition and dysentery in a North Korean prison. But, she said, he hadn't been eligible because no one could prove he was killed by his captors.

Previously, Purple Hearts were awarded only to servicemen and women in cases in which it could be proved they'd died or been wounded as a direct result of enemy action, such as in a shooting. The new guidelines presume that any POW who died in captivity since Dec. 7, 1941 -- the day Pearl Harbor was bombed -- died either as the result of enemy action or from wounds incurred "in action with the enemy" during capture.

For Embery, now a social worker in Detroit, the new guidelines mean her father will finally get the chance to be recognized with one of the country's oldest military honors.

"Every time I talk about this I cry," she told ABCNews.com. "Because I feel there's just a part of me that is missing."

Overcoming the Burden of Proof

Embery doesn't remember the man who has been described to her as a strong, natural leader. She was 5 years old when he was captured, and she grew up with her mother and stepfather, her mother shying away from the truth to protect her oldest daughter.

It was her great-grandmother who finally told her the truth after catching a preteen Embery once again admiring the picture of a handsome stranger that hung in an ornate frame on the dining room wall. That stranger, Embery learned, was her father, not her mother's friend as she'd thought.

That picture, later damaged in a house fire, and a box of letters are the only mementos Embery has of Edwards.

"Here was a man that was 22 years old, 17 when he began going to war for his country," Embery said. "And they didn't think enough of him to give him a Purple Heart."

The change from the Department of Defense's longstanding "burden of proof" policy on the Purple Heart stemmed from the 2007 National Defense Authorization Act, in which Congress asked for a review of the eligibility criteria.

Eileen Lainez of the Defense Press Office said that after consulting with several military groups, the department agreed that the congressional request had merit. The department said the relatives of up to 17,000 deceased POWs could be eligible for Purple Hearts under the new regulations.

"This change reflects the feeling that these conditions and circumstances are difficult to document," she said of POWs who survive enemy capture but die later with little evidence as to the cause.

Honor and Pride

Retired Navy Cpt. Mike McGrath, a Vietnam POW who received his Purple Heart n the 1970s and is now the historian for the nonprofit NAM-POWs Corp., praised the change in policy but said the previous exclusions didn't make a lot of sense to begin with.

McGrath, who was tortured with ropes and beatings while imprisoned at the prison dubbed the "Hanoi Hilton" for nearly six years, said it's common sense to assume that the death of any American POW was caused in some way by the enemy.

And while the wording of the eligibility criteria boils down to an administrative decision, he said, the award itself means honor and pride for the families who never saw their loved ones again.

"I think families deserve that," McGrath, 69, said. "It doesn't make sense to deny them one, maybe to save some administrative paperwork."

The Purple Heart is the oldest military decoration still in use today. It was created by George Washington during the Revolutionary War, called the Badge of Military Merit at the time. The medals are awarded by the individual branches of the U.S. military.

A Medal for 'Boogie'?

Charles Paul of Harrisburg, Pa., has been trying to get the remains of his uncle repatriated for years with the help of the Korean War Project, which lists more than 250 POWs whose remains were left overseas. Like Embery, he'd looked into getting a posthumous Purple Heart, but found that Sgt. Norman Gressens, his mother's brother, wasn't eligible.

According to other POWs who were held captive with his uncle, Gressens died from malnutrition and pneumonia in a Manp'o prison in the fall of 1950. Captured in South Korea July 20, 1950, Gressens and his fellow soldiers from the 34th Infantry Regiment were forced to march to the prison in North Korea.

Paul, who was 4 when Gressens died, said he has one memory of his uncle.

"I remember his standing, talking to my father who was a World War II vet," he said, adding that he doesn't remember what the men were discussing. "I was just a little kid."

But he's been told all about Gressens, from the days he worked shining shoes at a local movie theater to the dancing skills that earned him the nickname "Boogie."

The loss, he said, was absolutely devastating to his family. Paul said he's tried to get more information about Gressens' last few months from POWs who made it home but found they were generally reluctant to say much about the experience.

It's only an assumption, but Paul and his family believe that Gressens clothing and other belongs may have been taken from him because he was small in stature like his captors. That would have left him exposed to the cold North Korean weather with little protection.

Paul, 61, himself a Vietnam War Navy veteran, has made a passionate hobby out of collecting photographs, documents and news clippings about his uncle, who never married or had children. He's excited at the possibility of finally bringing home a Purple Heart, which would go to his aunt, Gressens' sister, who is the closest kin.

"I'm a military vet. I'm like c'mon now," he said of his yearning for Gressens' Purple Heart. "This guy died for his country."