The North Vietnamese soon realized they'd captured the son of a famous American admiral. They called McCain "the Crown Prince" and sent him off to a hospital. In 1968, Jack McCain was promoted to commander in chief of the Pacific Command and charged with prosecuting the Vietnam War. His son was in solitary confinement in Hoa Lo prison, the "Hanoi Hilton." His father's standing probably saved McCain's life but also caused him inestimable physical pain.
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The imperfect hero
A code of honor guides McCain, yet he readily admits to breaking it.
REPUBLICAN NATIONAL CONVENTION
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Saturday, September 06, 2008 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 2 National Desk 1 inches; 35 words Type of Material: Correction
The imperfect hero: In Thursday's Section A, a caption for a 1961 photo accompanying a profile of John McCain gave his rank as lieutenant. When the photo was taken he was a lieutenant junior grade.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Monday, September 08, 2008 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 2 National Desk 1 inches; 52 words Type of Material: Correction
"The imperfect hero": The profile of Sen. John McCain in Thursday's Section A said that Washington magazine once dubbed him "Senator Hothead." The magazine was the Washingtonian. Also, a caption for a 1961 photo with the profile gave McCain's Navy rank as lieutenant. At the time he was a lieutenant junior grade.
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Jack McCain suffered in his own way. Each year he oversaw the war, he spent Christmas with troops near the border between North and South Vietnam.
One holiday, according to a letter McCain received after his father died in 1981, a helicopter landed on an airstrip, and an officer stepped out, walked to the end of the strip and stood for a while, looking north.
"Who is that?" asked an observer.
"That's Adm. McCain," replied another. "He has a son up north, and this is as close as he can get to him."
Life lessons
Of all the misfortunes that befell McCain in prison, two changed him profoundly. One taught him the virtue of selflessness; the other brought him to the brink of suicide and taught him humility.
The first occurred in July 1968, nine months after he was shot down. Weak with dysentery and hobbled by his injuries, he was offered the chance to go home. The American military code of conduct, however, required that POWs go home in order of capture. Many men had been imprisoned longer than McCain.
Early release for an admiral's son not only would have an incalculably depressing effect on his fellow prisoners but would be a PR stunt for North Vietnam to show the world its humanity. McCain declined, infuriating his captors. "Now, McCain," he recalled being told, "it will be very bad for you."
And it was. But it was also, he often says, the best decision he ever made. Opting to stay taught him about personal sacrifice in the service of something larger than himself. He has made this idea the theme of his presidential campaign, of his life.
The psychic victory McCain had scored was soon replaced by a profound moral defeat. In late August 1968, guards came for him. For days, he was beaten and bound with ropes that forced his head between his knees.
"I couldn't fight anymore," he wrote, "and I remember deciding that the last thing I could do to make them believe I was still resisting . . . was to attempt suicide." He tried twice to hang himself with his shirt.
