Friday, Feb. 6, 2004 | 9:02 a.m.
THIS WEEK A HEROIC FIGURE of history was buried in California. Retired Navy Cmdr. Lloyd "Pete" Bucher was buried with full military honors, which a Naval Court of Inquiry would have denied him if its recommendation for a court martial had been followed in 1969.
In January 1968 the Boys Town graduate was in command of the U.S. spy ship Pueblo when it was captured by North Korean ships. The Pueblo, armed only with twin .50 caliber machine guns, was loaded with sensitive intelligence gathering equipment and inadequate destructive equipment needed to destroy material if captured. Bucher had requested an elaborate destruct system but the money needed for it was slashed from the Navy's project. All it had was some fire axes and two paper shredders, which should have been on a junk pile. Bucher and his 82-member crew were on their own in the waters near a dangerous and brutal enemy.
If ever a ship and its crew were set up for failure, the Pueblo might be the best example in U.S. history. It happened Jan. 23, 1968, when the Pueblo became the first U.S. Navy ship to surrender and be taken over by an enemy since the War of 1812. Ronald Shinkman of the Los Angeles Times wrote the following account in 1988:
"At high noon, a North Korean vessel, a high-speed subchaser, approached, circling the Pueblo at about 1,000 yards and signaled, 'Heave to or I will fire ...'
"About an hour later, four other North Korean vessels, three 30-knot torpedo boats and another subchaser arrived on the scene, and a pair of MIG fighters began circling overhead. One of the torpedo boats rubber bumpers rigged on the outside of its stern began backing toward the Pueblo, indicating a boarding. It was then that Bucher began running for deeper waters, even though his ship had a top speed of only 13 knots -- less than half of the other vessels.
"The first subchaser pursued, opening fire on the Pueblo with its 57-millimeter guns. One of Bucher's 82-member crew, fireman Duane Hodges, lost his leg in the barrage and died soon afterward. Slightly wounded himself, and hoping to buy time, Bucher stopped the ship and ordered that all the equipment and documents be destroyed, a task that proved impossible.
"Shortly after the crew vainly attempted to comply with their commander's orders, the North Koreans boarded the Pueblo. None of the American rescue or assistance attempts promised Bucher before were forthcoming. ..."
Bucher and his crew were battered, beaten and put on public display. The torture went on for 11 months. Only Bucher could tell the story, and he did so 15 years ago in an interview with Carol Byrne, who wrote the following in the Star-Tribune of the Twin Cities:
"Bucher was beaten and forced to sit unmoving on a stool for 18 hours a day. 'If I nodded off, they would knock me across the room.' The shrapnel wound he suffered during capture went untreated, and he was unable to eat. He went from 205 pounds to less than 120. He was kept in solitary confinement, but he could hear cries of pain from his crewmen. He was taken to see a South Korean who had been tortured. The man was still alive, hanging from a meat hook, broken bones sticking out of his body, one eye dangling from its socket. Bucher fainted. He decided to cooperate with the North Koreans by signing 'confessions' when they threatened to kill his crewmen in front of him, one by one, starting with the youngest."
Americans from all walks of life rejoiced when the Pueblo crew was finally released just before Christmas. The release came only after our country apologized for the crew being in North Korean waters. Upon returning home, Bucher and his intelligence officer were threatened with a court martial which Navy Sec. John H. Chafee overturned, saying the officers had suffered enough.
Despite Chafee's actions and understanding, Bucher's career had been ruined and it was 21 years before the Pueblo crew was recognized as prisoners of war and given POW medals.
What has been most impressive is the loyalty the Pueblo crew has shown the man they call a hero. They have let Americans know that it was their commander who saved their lives and by example held them together. Tony Perry of the Los Angeles Times interviewed crewmember Brad Crowe at Bucher's funeral. When talking about Bucher, Crowe said, "He cared more about people than anybody I ever met. He paid a terrible price: his career."
It's a real shame that the loyalty Bucher's crew shows wasn't shared by a few stiff-necked naval desk sitters.
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