D.P.R.K’S Glorious Medical Care
When General Quarters was ordered, my watch was in the Auxiliary
Engine room that supplied power to the Sod Hut (electronic room)
and fresh water to the ship. Prior to General Quarters being called,
several of us were able to sneak at peak at our adversaries through
the forward hatch that lead out onto the lower deck. I had no
idea where we were or who was threatening us. I was in that "You
don’t need to know" category.
When things started to heat up topside, several of us were summoned
to aid in the destruction of classified material. One such location
was a safe located in the hallway outside the Officers Wardroom.
This is where I began tearing up and passing papers down the hall
to several crewmembers trying to burn them in Navy Issue "Classified
Material Incinerators" commonly called "trash cans".
I do not remember how many cans were being used for the destroying
process but there were not enough to handle the mounds of paper.
A trash can was positioned by a starboard, mid-ship hatch that
led outside. The can was placed just outside due to the smoke
filling the hallways. The North Koreans apparently saw the smoke
and came to the conclusion we were not grilling steaks and let
loose with a 57mm round in the starboard side where we were all
gathered. Duane Hodges, Bob Chicca, and Charles Crandell were
in the immediate area of the explosion. I was squatting on my
knees in a hallway that joined their position by the open hatch.
The force of the explosion and shrapnel blew me over backwards.
Unable to move my legs, I felt this tremendous burning sensation
in my groin and hip. Traffic was beginning to pick up in the hallways
so I pulled myself around the corner and into the Officers Wardroom.
No sooner had I done that, then Duane was brought around the corner
and positioned in the hallway at my feet. Doc Baldridge would
attempt to comfort the both of us the best he could with what
little he had to work with. We were both given morphine to ease
the pain and bandaged to stop the bleeding. The pain was not bad
as long as I did not try to move my legs, the morphine helped
a lot too.
To the best of my knowledge, Duane passed away sometime prior
to PUEBLO being boarded by the North Koreans. Duane was a close
friend, we had shared some good times together and I will always
hold a special place in my heart for him.
After the ship was boarded and taken over, I was placed on the
Wardroom dining table, on top the plastic table cover. A North
Korean guard was now standing watch over me while the rest of
the crew was being escorted to the main deck and later removed.
Now it was time for me to be taken away. To the best of my knowledge I was one of the last "good guy’s" to leave the PUEBLO. Two NK soldiers, one at my feet and the other at my head, wrapped me up in the plastic cover and began dragging and bouncing me down the passageways through the hatches. I had not seen the crew for quite sometime now and my worst fear was us all being tossed overboard. Now it was my turn to be cast to the sea. I knew I would not be able to swim, but as cold as the water was that day swimming would not matter, I would be gone in a matter of seconds anyway. I was somewhat relieved when I felt them drag me onto the boarding planks and then onto the pier. From this point I was placed on the floor of a bus that had already been loaded with crewmembers.
Sometime later we were all loaded on a train and transported
to our next destination. The train was very uncomfortable for
me since the effects of the morphine had worn off and the pain
was setting in. I could tell I had extensive wounds to my groin,
buttocks and tailbone. I had two holes in my buttocks the size
of my thumb. One piece of shrapnel passed through me front to
back taking out half my tailbone. Another piece entered the lower
part of my buttocks exiting out the top. The wound to my groin
area was not good.
At the next location the most serious wounded, Crandell, Chicca
and myself shared a room with Dale Rigby. Dale put any and all
of his knowledge of first aid to work trying to make us as comfortable
as possible. Dale with absolutely nothing to work with as far
as medical supplies did a tremendous job taking care of us. We
received very little medical assistance for which we were in dire
need from the North Koreans.
Later in the week, the guards that came into our room would wear
bandanas around their face since the stench of infection, rotting
flesh, and blood was unbearable. Infection was now setting in
and becoming a big concern. I was still lying on the Wardroom
table cover even after a week’s time. I became stuck to the
plastic due to the dried blood and yuck, which made moving virtually
impossible. I was still passing blood in both urine and bowel
movements.
I believe it was the evening of our tenth day of captivity, I
was removed from our room and taken to what appeared to be a medical
examining room, just down the hall. Up until then, no major medical
help had been provided to any of us. In this examining room, I
was placed on a metal examining table, my hands were bound and
tied down to the table. My legs were spread, my feet bound and
tied down so I was unable to move. Their so-called NK doctors
commenced operating on me without any form of anesthetic whatsoever.
I can still recall the scissors cutting away flesh and being sewn
up with sutures that looked like kite string. A small handful
of shrapnel was removed in the operation that seemed to last an
eternity, but probably did not last more than twenty to thirty
minutes. I was told later my screams could be heard throughout
the building and many crewmembers thought one of us was being
tortured. I was then returned to my room and fellow wounded crewmen.
Approximately two weeks after capture I was still not doing very well. One evening the guards came in, loaded me onto a stretcher, threw a blanket over me so I could not see where they were taking me and out the building we went. I was loaded into the back of a covered jeep and taken to a NK Hospital. Conditions were not nearly what we had come to expect in the United States. The room was about 10’ by 15’, one window, one door and one bed. A wooden floor with ¼" spaces between the boards for dirt and grime to collect, paint cracking and peeling from the wall and an occasional bed bug. Bandages were changed every two days by the medical staff. This usually consisted of one Doctor and two nurses.
I would spend the next 44 days in solitary confinement, behind a locked door and no one around who gave any indication they could speak or understand English. I was allowed cigarettes, matches, NK cultural propaganda crap, a deck of cards and a pitcher of water. If the water was not boiled properly it would cause dysentery, which I had the pleasure of experiencing during my stay. Each day I would mark off the days in the hospital on the wall with a burnt match. I would spend my twentieth birthday in the hospital.
My medical treatment would consist of the doctor taking
a pair of forceps and shoving long strips of gauze saturated with
a type of ointment down into my open wounds as far as it would
go. Each day the healing process would not allow him to shove
it in quite as far as the last time. One day something came out
with the gauze that drew the attention of the doctor and his staff.
It appeared that a bed bug had found refuge and a warm place to
sleep inside of me. This did not seem to be a big deal to the
staff. This was probably a normal occurrence in the everyday life
in the Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea. I also received several
injections daily and one transfusion of a clear liquid in my leg.
Although my leg swelled to twice its normal size, whatever medicine
it was seemed to work since I finally started making headway towards
a recovery.
I spent many days wondering about my fate, the crews fate, what
was going to happen, what are they going to do to me next, while
I was left behind to mend.
Near the end of my healing process one of my wounds had healed
over, trapping fluid under the skin and becoming very tender.
Since I was about to be re-united with the crew, I thought I had
better bring this to the attention of my private doctor. My biggest
worry was going through another surgical procedure as before with
no anesthetic. I showed him the soft spot, he took one look reached
for a pair of scissors and snip, water came gushing out. It was
back to the forceps, ramming the gauze back down the hole.
About a week before returning to the crew I was finally able to
set up and walk around the room. I did not have any mirrors in
the room so I did not know what I looked like after a month and
a half. The door had a glass transom over the top of it, tilted
enough to show my reflection. I was amazed on how thin I had become.
I had lost 55 lbs. in captivity and it looked like most of it
was during the first two months. What I was fed was not that much
different than what I understand the crew was fed. Basically watered
down pig fat soup, rice, bread rarely and dead flies (more often
than bread by far). The worms, maggots, nails, hair, teeth and
anything else the NK’s thought to be nutritional came later
when I returned to the crew. What the crew did not get that I
received was an apple and goats milk occasionally. Damn, what
a treat.
When re-united with the crew I was able to walk and climb stairs
by using the handrail. The first crewmen to greet me were the
Captain and Officers of the PUEBLO, the most pleasant site I experienced
in captivity. I had a room awaiting for me with 7 other crewmembers
to whom I would get to know pretty well over the next 8 months.
The only personnel affects left of mine was my navy shirt and
boots that were in a drawer next to my bed. My shirt had a shrapnel
hole, in the portion that tucks in the back, the size of a silver
dollar. There was also a bone fragment about 1½" long
and ½" wide. Not exactly sure where that came from.
I guess it was not needed since everything was working by now.
Later in captivity I would experience yet another one of NK’s uncouth medical procedures. At the time and when I was young, I had always had trouble with tonsil infection, so the NK’s decided my tonsils needed to be removed. They took this clamping type instrument, put it around one tonsil, and tied a string (kite string) to the tonsil and crunch it was out. I guess the string was to be used to retrieve the tonsil in case I happened to swallow it or it would hit the floor. The same procedure was done on the other side. This operation was also accomplished without the use of any anesthetic.