Station HYPO

On December 10, 1968, Glorious General (G.G.) called an all-hands meeting. His fury was unmistakable. The Americans, he declared, would now pay for their insincerity. Each man must confess not only his own crimes but those of his shipmates as well. This, G.G. warned, was their final chance to tell the truth. Tables were set up, and the men were ordered to begin writing a new round of “confessions.” From his cell, Ensign Tim Harris could see Commander Bucher sitting across the corridor, staring blankly at the wall, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Glorious General (G.G.) unleashed a furious barrage of accusations against the Americans, his voice rising in shrill anger. Many of his charges were absurd—he claimed the crossword puzzles exchanged between crewmen were coded messages and accused them of passing “pages of secret” among themselves. In truth, those “secret pages” were nothing more than parts of an amateur pornographic novel written by one of the enlisted men. Yet, some of his suspicions were not entirely unfounded. Several sailors had, in fact, lied during interrogations and written “insincere” letters home to their families.

When Commander Bucher tried to learn what had become of Glorious General (G.G.), he discovered that the prison commandant had once again disappeared. When G.G. finally returned a few weeks later, the warmth and arrogance he had once displayed were gone—replaced by a cold, contemptuous hostility toward the Americans.

The afterglow of Super C’s (guard) satisfaction following the international press conference warmed Commander Bucher and his men well into September 1968. Their captors began to show greater concern for their welfare—medical attention improved, and the food became more plentiful and nutritious. Plates were suddenly heaped with fresh fish, canned ham, bread and butter, and apples. Some of the sailors even began to regain the weight they had lost during the previous eight months of captivity.