The Dreadful Dilemma

In 23 years as a Marine aviator, Colonel Frank Schwable (rhymes with able) had demonstrated time and again that he was a brave, cool and efficient fighting man. As he took the stand before a court of inquiry at Arlington, Va. last week, the ribbons on his tunic bore testimony to an honorable career as a regular--as a pilot in Nicaragua, as combat commander of a nightfighter squadron in World War II, as chief of staff of the First Marine Aircraft Wing during the Korean war. But all this simply complicated the dreadful dilemma of the high-ranking officers who sat in judgment on him.

Colonel Schwable's sin was committed after he was shot down over enemy territory in Korea on July 8, 1952 and taken prisoner. Helpless, cold, sick, subject to continuous brainwashing, he "confessed" (as did 35 other lower-ranking U.S. prisoners of war) in great detail to an enormous lie--to wit, that the U.S. had used germ warfare against the Chinese Reds. On March 12, 1953 Russia's Andrei Vishinsky laid his statement before the General Assembly of the United Nations.

Subtle Torture. When Annapolisman Schwable returned to the U.S. after he was released. Marine Corps Commandant General Lemuel C. Shepherd, a first-class fighting man himself, pointedly refused to see or speak with him. But few of the colonel's fellow citizens allowed themselves so simple a reaction.

The Army's most famed prisoner-of-war, Major General William F. Dean, appeared as a witness for Colonel Schwable, told of writing two letters which the Reds might have used as propaganda. General Dean said he would never go to war again without a suicide pill as insurance against captivity. Dr. Joost K. M. Merloo, a Dutch psychiatrist who worked in the anti-Nazi underground during World War II, testified that any man--including the members of the court--would eventually confess if subjected to Communist mental torture.

Colonel Schwable, 45, is now a thin, gaunt, nervous man. He stared from deep-set eyes as he took the stand to explain what had happened to him and how his mind had reacted during his miserable and degrading 14 months at the hands of the Reds. "Perhaps I would have been more fortunate if I had [undergone actual physical torture], because people nowadays seem to understand that better," he said. "This was a torture of a more subtle form."

As the autumn of 1952 wore into winter, Schwable was kept in a series of tiny, dank caves, watched around the clock by guards who made a practice of shining flashlights in his eyes to wake him up hourly at night. Water spilling from his tea froze on touching the ground. Said he: "I never stopped shivering."

He was not allowed to relieve himself at a latrine for long periods of time, and once did so in his drinking cup. The sickening contents froze, and for two days he chipped away to make the cup usable again. Finally he was allowed some hot water, which melted the rest. He drank the contents. "It didn't taste so good," he said, staring at the court, "but I was thirsty."

Warmth from a Light Blub. Meanwhile, as he "lived like an animal wallowing around in dirt and filth," the Chinese subjected him to endlessly repeated accusations and endless hints that it would be easy to kill him. Bit by bit he wrote what the Chinese wanted (as one reward they allowed him to warm his hands on a light bulb). "The hardest thing I have to explain," he said, "is how a man can sit down and write something he knows is false and yet to sense it, to feel it, to make it seem real."

What course would the Marine Corps take in the Schwable case? If a victim of brainwashing goes unpunished, what will happen to military discipline? If a colonel who has violated the regulation against giving information to the enemy is restored to command, how can other soldiers follow him? But in good conscience, can a P.W.--even a regular officer of long service--be held responsible for actions committed under Communist duress?

Even President Eisenhower had no ready answer. You could not, he said thoughtfully at his press conference last week, restore such men to command and ask young Americans to follow them. On the other hand, you could not condemn them too severely.

It seemed doubtful that any fair military court could come to a sharper decision, or avoid creating some kind of military limbo in which such hapless men as Colonel Schwable would be compelled to wander, unpunished but unloved, for the rest of their lives.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.