Monday, Feb. 15, 1982

"Welcome Home, Soldier"

By Russ Hoyle

Dozier tells his story, and the Red Brigades crackdown goes on

I know you don't like being praised I for what you only consider your duty," Ronald Reagan told the guest of honor with mock sternness at last week's annual National Prayer Breakfast in Washington. "Forgive me. I'm going to pull rank on you." With that, the Commander in Chief proceeded to lavish an encomium on Brigadier General James L. Dozier for bravery during his 42-day ordeal as a prisoner of Italy's Red Brigades terrorists. Added Reagan with deft simplicity: "Welcome home, soldier."

For the trim, crew-cut Dozier, 50, the days following his dramatic rescue by a team of Italian antiterrorist commandos on Jan. 28 have been a whirlwind of debriefings, press conferences and meetings with heads of state in both Italy and the U.S. Before flying to Washington for breakfast with Reagan, the general lunched with Italian President Sandro Pertini, then met with Prime Minister Giovanni Spadolini at Rome's Chigi Palace. Throughout, Dozier handled himself like a practiced politician, showing no signs of the anxiety or depression that so often afflicts victims of a hostage taking. Only once, when his Air Force C-141 transport dipped a wing dangerously low during an aborted landing at Andrews Air Force Base, was his homecoming potentially marred. When the plane finally touched down safely, Dozier greeted Vice President George Bush on the tarmac with characteristic unconcern. Said he: "It's doggone good to be home."

For a man who had just endured six weeks of virtual immobilization at the hands of captors with a reputation for cold-blooded murder, it was a remarkable performance. Dozier forthrightly admitted he had been too busy to heed repeated warnings about potential terrorist attacks before his abduction. From the moment he was taken to the terrorists' Padua apartment on Dec. 17, Dozier was chained by his left ankle and right wrist to a raised wooden platform covered by a small camping tent. He was never allowed to get up or move around the apartment outside the tent. He washed himself with a pail of water brought to him once a week, and was supplied with a chemical toilet. His captors hung a white 40-watt light bulb in the tent during what Dozier took to be daytime, and replaced it with a blue 40-watt bulb, presumably at night. His daily regimen included exercising as best he could inside the tent, occasionally reading (George Orwell's 1984, clippings from TIME and various newspapers about his abduction), playing solitaire and napping. He was regularly fed "well-balanced" meals (meat, green vegetable, sometimes a starch) by his captors, who always wore ski masks in his presence. "At no time," Dozier said, "did I see anyone with his or her face uncovered."

The brigatisti also ensured that Dozier could not hear their conversations, mainly by forcing him to listen to blaring rock music through a stereo headset. He finally persuaded them to lower the volume and supply quieter music (George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue, some waltzes), but not before his hearing had deteriorated noticeably. Joked Dozier, who often had to cup a hand around his ear to hear reporters' questions: "For those of you who haven't listened to hard rock for eight or nine hours at a stretch, you ought to try it sometime. I don't see how the teen-agers do it." But by far the worst of the ordeal for Dozier, who normally jogs 2 1/2 miles a day, was the lack of exercise and the "excruciating boredom."

His interrogations, which were heavily edited to form the text of a "communique" his captors released during his imprisonment, did not amount to much. One reason was Dozier's perfunctory Italian, which finally drove his questioners to supply him with an Italian-English dictionary. Nor, he said, had there been any "real serious effort" to extract military secrets from him. The general revealed, however, that he had tried unsuccessfully to signal that he was well by making a V sign with his fingers in a photograph released by the terrorists.

Throughout, said Dozier, "there was no attempt to talk to me or establish a rapport. It was just a businesslike arrangement." At no time was there any violence, apart from the abduction itself. Said Dozier: "I guess if you had an array of various types of bums and criminals, these would have to be at the top of the heap."

Meanwhile, several of Dozier's five captors, under questioning in Padua, were "singing like canaries," as the Milan daily Il Giorno put it. Two of them, Cell Leader Antonio Savasta and his girlfriend Emilia Libera, among others, were quickly named as participants in the 1978 Red Brigades slaying of former Prime Minister Aldo Moro. Savasta and Cesare di Lenardo have been implicated in the kidnaping and murder of Industrialist Giuseppe Taliercio last year.

Working from a growing wealth of clues and leads, Italian police and carabinieri last week continued to flush out new terrorist suspects, documents, hideouts and weapons. Near Pisa, three more suspects were picked up in connection with the Dozier case. In Udine, nine Red Brigades members were arrested, including Gianni Francescutti, 37, who is suspected of leading the Taliercio operation. Near Venice, a yacht owned by Dr. Mario Frascella was confiscated. Reason: authorities suspect that Frascella's daughter Emanuela, 21, who rented the Padua apartment where Dozier was held, had used the boat for running guns from the Middle East to Italy. In Volpago, police found another terrorist arms cache containing machine guns, grenade launchers and plastic explosives. As a result of the Dozier case, police have rounded up over 130 suspected terrorists and uncovered as many as 35 of their hideouts. The count is likely to increase in the coming weeks.

After Dozier completes several days of debriefings with U.S. officials in Washington this week, the Pentagon will have to decide whether he will return to his NATO assignment in Verona. Italian authorities believe he is still a prime target for a Red Brigades assassination attempt. Though Dozier would like to return, he admits his presence might create problems. For now, he is content to take a well-earned two-week leave. Confessed the soldier turned hero in a moment of candor: "I've been on a treadmill."

With reporting by Barry Kalb, Bruce Nelan

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