Re: Remembering Captivity and the USS Pueblo

Date: January 27, 2004

"Boredom relieved by fear

In 1968, Lt. Stephen Harris was imprisoned with 82 crew members of the USS Pueblo, an intelligence ship, when it was captured off the coast of North Korea. The men were held for almost a year. Harris shared his story yesterday with students at Germanna Community College.

By KRISTIN DAVIS

Crew member recalls capture of USS Pueblo

Stephen Harris had a bad feeling about the slow, broken-down World War II cargo ship before the crew ever set sail off the California coast.

The vessel, out of commission since the 1940s, was small by naval standards and had been "rusting away" for nearly three decades.

They called this scrap of a ship the USS Pueblo. To Harris, it was mainly a dilapidated nuisance, a waste of time, an order that had to be obeyed.

Things started out on a bad foot.

It was January 1968, and the 29-year-old was on a spy mission to the coast of North Korea for the U.S. Navy.

But this trip to the communist-run country, at the height of the Cold War and in the midst of the Vietnam War, was a last-minute switch from original orders to the Soviet Union.

"The whole thing seemed to be jinxed from the beginning," Harris said.

The Pueblo, suffering mechanical problems, broke down near Hawaii. It took two weeks to reach its destination 14 miles off the coast of North Korea.

The 83-member crew arrived in dead of winter.

As one of six officers on board, Harris reported intelligence back to the United States and was in charge of all "classified information."

With very little activity, there wasn't much to report. The ship almost capsized when, due to freezing temperatures, one side became coated with ice. Harris again wondered why they'd been sent--the United States had higher priorities and greater threats.

Things got worse.

The Pueblo was spotted by two North Korean fishing boats.

"We both got a good look at one another, so we sounded an alarm," Harris said.

The very next day, at least five small warships appeared on the horizon and surrounded the Pueblo, whose only defense were two low-powered machine guns in full view of any enemy. "Our chances for escape were minimal," he said.

The U.S. ship never fired back.

"We cranked up the ship and tried to get out of there" when the enemy warships revealed a flag that meant "stop or we'll open fire," Harris said.

They did just that, and one man was killed on the Pueblo.

Other crewmen began the task of destroying secret documents. But the ship had only one small incinerator, and it was much too dangerous to step into the line of fire and throw the papers overboard.

Harris said he made a controversial decision that day. "I decided no human life is worth sacrificing over a piece of paper."

The crew was taken prisoner and put on trial, accused of entering the waters of North Korea. All were found guilty and sentenced to execution. They would be shot one by one, beginning with the youngest.

The ship's commander, Lloyd Butcher, would have to watch the horror before succumbing to execution himself. But that never happened.

Harris believes their captors intended to do it, but the threat of nuclear war with the United States stopped them.

Men's bodies were bloodied and bones broken over the next 11 months. They were interrogated and forced to sign confessions. They were fed "bad" rice, greens and occasionally, "fish so old we called it sewer trout," Harris said.

None had any POW training.

"It was months and months of boredom punctuated by moments of terror," Harris recalled.

The crew was released after the United States confessed to being in enemy waters.

For Harris, the 11 months as a POW seemed like forever until he and the other men were on the way home. He prayed to be home by Christmas.

And on Dec. 24, the crew that had left on the USS Pueblo arrived in California to reunite with their families.

The ordeal eventually made the history books and the History Channel. Harris himself wrote his own account of the mission, "My Anchor Held."

Harris, now 65 with gray-white hair and glasses, shared his story with a class of Germanna Community College students yesterday.

He recalled the experience from 36 years ago without notes or props.

The longtime friend of Germanna philosophy instructor Mike Shockey is visiting Fredericksburg this weekend from his home near Boston, Mass. Next week, he will observe the 36th anniversary of his capture.

Shockey--who received a copy of "My Anchor Held" from his father years ago--was anxious for his class to hear Harris' story.

Intrigued after reading the book, he had contacted the publisher and eventually found Harris. The two have corresponded ever since.

The deeply religious Harris' book reveals how his faith sustained him. He'll talk about that faith and his ordeal at Calvary Southern Methodist Church in Stafford tomorrow.

To reach KRISTIN DAVIS: 540/368-5028 kdavis@freelancestar.com

©2001 The Free Lance-Star Publishing Company"