Aug 12, 2002 5 min read

Without perspective, the challenges we face in our daily lives can sometimes seem overwhelming. Attacks by terrorists, dramatic losses in the stock market, combined with personal setbacks and professional challenges, can immerse us in gloom. At that moment, we can feel it is the worst of times.

Without comparing our lives with others, we lose the balance that allows us to judge our circumstances in realistic terms, beyond a personal emotional level.

John McCain’s story provides such a perspective. He survived under some of the most severe conditions imaginable.

McCain’s story, told in his 1999 book, “Faith of My Fathers,” is a personal account of the physical torture and agony he suffered as a prisoner of war in Vietnam for five and a half years.

McCain, who has served as a U.S. senator from Arizona since 1986, was a pilot in the Navy, a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy, and the son of a four star admiral. His grandfather also was a four star admiral in the Navy.

He was not, however, as one might have expected, a spit and polish, disciplined military person. He finished the academy fifth from the bottom of his class, and, because of his hot temper and rebel attitude, was fortunate to have made it to graduation.

McCain admits that his Type A personality, driven by a huge ego, his short stature, and a self-centered outlook, gave him the status of an immature playboy, which he played with enthusiasm, making few friends along the way.

His search for adventure was a key factor in his decision to seek a combat tour of duty in Vietnam. Confrontational, abrasive, frequently obnoxious, and indifferent and insensitive generally to the needs of others, McCain’s behavior in the years prior to Vietnam was not the classic son of an admiral scenario. He admits his immature conduct, best described as the spoiled Navy brat syndrome, was something he regrets to this day.

At the age of 31, as an A-4 pilot, he began dropping bombs over North Vietnam. After almost being killed on the U.S. Forrestal when his jet was hit by a missile fired by accident from another plane on the deck of the ship where 134 men died from explosions and fire which followed, McCain feared his brief combat experience would hurt his naval career. So, he volunteered to serve on the aircraft carrier, USS Oriskany, for combat missions.

On his 23rd bombing run, flying in over Hanoi at 550 miles per hour, a surface to air missile blew the right wing of his airplane off. When he ejected, he broke his left arm, right arm in three places, and his right knee as the seat rocketed out of the aircraft.

He landed in a shallow lake, where Vietnamese citizens immediately attacked him, breaking his shoulder with the butt of a rifle, and one woman stabbed him with a bayonet in his ankle and groin. He was rescued by one woman, who applied bamboo splints to his leg and right arm.

McCain still had his brash, cocky attitude, and a quick temper, which would earn him numerous beatings at the hands of his North Vietnamese captors as a POW for the next five and a half years. It was during these long years that McCain learned humility, the hard way.

After repeated torture and beatings, he finally “broke,” and signed a “confession” provided by his prison guards. His one regret today is that, in his mind, he failed his country when he signed a paper so the physical beatings and torture he was suffering would stop.

This one incident, however, proved to be meaningless because the tortures, the solitary confinement and the living conditions in prison cells unsuited for animals to survive, continued repeatedly throughout his imprisonment over five years.

When he was finally released at the age of 36, McCain found he had not lost faith in his country, his fellow prisoners, honor, duty, and in himself. He witnessed many acts of heroism among his fellow prisoners. He was humbled by their bravery and their sacrifices, at the same time he was crippled, near death, and being beaten for days on end.

He closes his book with these words: “When I look back on my misspent youth, I feel a longing for what is past and cannot be restored.

“But though the happy pursuits and casual beauty of youth prove ephemeral, something better can endure, and endure until our last moment on earth. And that is the honor we earn and the love we give if at a moment in our youth we sacrifice with others for something greater than our self-interest.”

McCain has not forgotten his days in a grimy, filthy prison cell, but neither has he allowed his tormentors to control his life.

He picked up his life after Vietnam, was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives twice, to the U.S. Senate three times and was a presidential candidate.

Perspective is essential. Until we know the true story of the four star admiral’s son, hot shot pilot, and a U.S. senator, we might believe his life was a cruise down easy street. John McCain knew life in its most difficult, torturous times.

When we compare our daily struggles to his, we are humbled by his example.

Mike Ellis is the editor of the Herald-Standard. His e-mail address is: mellis@heraldstandard.com.