By Ray Stern
By Ray Stern
By New Times
By Amy Silverman
By Stephen Lemons
By Stephen Lemons
By Monica Alonzo
By Chris Parker
I pulled the ejection handle, and was knocked unconscious by the force of the ejection--the air speed was about 500 knots. . . . I regained consciousness just before I landed by parachute in a lake right in the center of Hanoi, one they called the Western Lake. My helmet and my oxygen mask had been blown off.
I hit the water and sank to the bottom. I think the lake is about 15 feet deep, maybe 20. I kicked off the bottom. I did not feel any pain at the time, and was able to rise to the surface. I took a breath of air and started sinking again. Of course, I was wearing 50 pounds, at least, of equipment and gear. I went down and managed to kick up to the surface once more. I couldn't understand why I couldn't use my right leg or my arm. I was in a dazed condition. I went up to the top again and sank back down. This time I couldn't get back to the surface. I was wearing an inflatable life-preserver-type thing that looked like water wings. I reached down with my mouth and got the toggle between my teeth and inflated the preserver and finally floated to the top.
The preceding passage--a firsthand account titled "How the POWs Fought Back"--appeared in the May 14, 1973, edition of U.S. News & World Report, two months after Navy Lieutenant Commander John Sidney McCain III and 590 other POWs returned to the United States as part of Operation Homecoming. McCain's official debriefing, on file at the Library of Congress, contains an almost identical description of his downing. Several books include similar accounts.
At the time McCain's jet was blasted from the air, his father was commander in chief of U.S. naval forces in Europe. His grandfather had also been a Navy admiral. Yet young John McCain was legendary not for his military acumen but for his reputation as a troublemaker and a ladies' man. He had graduated fifth from the bottom of his class at the U.S. Naval Academy, and earned nicknames such as "McNasty."
The Vietnamese who fished him out of Truc Bach Lake knew none of that, of course--only that they'd found an American. As was customary, they hauled the soldier to shore and stripped him to his underwear. A crowd of hecklers gathered.
Again, from U.S. News:
When they had most of my clothes off, I felt a twinge in my right knee. I sat up and looked at it, and my right foot was resting next to my left knee, just in a 90-degree position. I said, "My God--my leg!" That seemed to enrage them--I don't know why. One of them slammed a rifle butt down on my shoulder, and smashed it pretty badly. Another stuck a bayonet in my foot. . . . A woman came over and propped me up and held a cup of tea to my lips, and some photographers took pictures. This quieted the crowd down quite a bit. Pretty soon, they put me on a stretcher, lifted it onto a truck, and took me to Hanoi's main prison.
The facility was Hoa Lo, dubbed the "Hanoi Hilton" by the American prisoners. McCain says he lapsed in and out of consciousness for a few days. He had broken his right femur just above the knee, his right arm in three places, and his left arm. From the first day, he says, he was told he would not receive medical treatment unless he revealed military secrets. He says he offered nothing but his name, rank and serial number.
On what McCain believes was his fourth day in captivity, two guards came into his cell and pulled back his blanket.
I looked at my knee. It was about the size, shape and color of a football. I remembered that when I was a flying instructor a fellow had ejected from his plane and broken his thigh. He had gone into shock, the blood had pooled in his leg, and he died, which came as quite a shock to us--a man dying of a broken leg. Then I realized that a very similar thing was happening to me.
When I saw it, I said to the guard, "O.K., get the officer."
McCain agreed to give military information in exchange for a trip to the hospital, but he was told it was too late. Then, however, the Vietnamese discovered they were holding the "crown prince"--the admiral's son.
McCain says he confirmed that his father was the "big admiral" and was taken to a hospital. He recalled that his hospital room was filthy and he was fed only a few spoonfuls of soup a day and was never washed. Crude attempts were made to set McCain's bones, sans painkillers.
An article about McCain appeared in the newspaper Nhan Dan (The People) in Hanoi on November 9, 1967. The translation begins:
That piratical pilot had a pretty good-looking face. He was reasonably fat. What was worth our attention was that his hair had turned almost completely white although he was only 31. He himself drew our attention to that fact right at the beginning of the interrogation. Was it meant to show his "nobility" of some sort? Sometimes this U.S. Navy lieutenant commander still showed his boastful behavior tastelessly that way.