Mods, put this where you want... Psycho wanted to know my experience, here it is. I wanted to tell most of the story since it shaped my view on torture and interrogation. For anyone that may have any interest in what I said about my experience with water-boarding heres the story. Near the end of the Vietnam conflict the Army finally realized that helicopter pilots were not prepared for possibly being POWs. So they developed a very extensive course. This course was part of the flight school curriculum, conducted three weeks before graduation. The course was a brutal combination of Escape and Evasion and a POW camp, with a few weeks of classroom and field training. It all concluded with the evasion/escape/POW exercise and it was dreaded by ALL! . November (the day after Thanksgiving) about 5:30pm we were dropped in the woods. The objective was to make our way to a point several miles away where we would meet with a partisan who would feed us and would take us to a SAFE place, the enemy we had to avoid was an infantry company tasked with the mission of finding us. If you were captured you went right to the POW camp. I wasnt captured and made it to the meeting place. After we ate some crappy stew as promised (about 12am) we were loaded onto a 2 ½ ton truck to be taken to the SAFE place. Things looked good until the truck was ambushed. Blank gun fire everywhere. Shouting and screaming from outside the truck. Well, our training was to resist, so I did. We were all lying down in the back of the truck when the screams came to get out. We didnt. I still remember being drug out of that truck bed and landing flat on my back on a hard clay road. (The bed of the truck is about 4 ½ feet above the ground, for those that may not know. Correct me if Im wrong, its been along time). After unloading they put us back on the truck for a trip to the POW camp. Ill always remember our escort/guard in the back with us saying in a normal listen to me voice do what they say, these guys will hurt you. When we arrived at the camp and got off the truck we were make to crawl on our hands a knees and not look up. If you did look up they were on you like white on rice physically beating you. Before entering the camp you had to see the Doctor. He was in a small wooden sorta outhouse size building with a door on the front and one on the back. The doors were cut up from the ground about 2 ft. you had to crawl under them and just answer the questions, but not stand nor look up. Then you crawled out the other side and HELL started. Keep in mind Im not even in the camp yet. Now the crawl started to enter the camp main gate. On the way the guards were screaming, asking questions and such. Still not allowed to look up all you could see was boots. Not US boots, these guys played the part, clothes, speech, accents, the works. As you made your way to the main gate, which you had to also crawl under, they would step in front of you. Not good. To touch them brought a swarm of guards at once beating, punching and kicks. (BTW we were told that any retaliation would mean removal from the site and you would either repeat the course or be eliminated from school). So here I am crawling along and yes, boots step in front of me, bang! In just a second I am on my back with this guy straddling me and slapping the shit outta my face, forehand, backhand, forehand. He asked questions, I didnt answer, so he slapped me more. The he asked if I liked that. I was young and a smart ass; there was really no correct answer. I said YES, and he proceeded to slap me more. I finally got to crawl under the man gate. First stop was to strip down to your shorts and got a POW number to wear around my neck. So now everyone is crawling around on hands and knees on a cold November night in the middle of the woods in their shorts. It wasnt long before they made us take our shorts off too. Yep, we spent a few hours nude. The second stop was to be assigned your detail. I cant remember all of them, there was a sand bag detail, bomb shelter detail, and some others. The sand bags went to the bomb shelter detail. The bomb shelter was because our guys were going to bomb us and the wanted us to be safe LOL. I was on the sand bag detail. Wed fill two and empty one, the resistance thing I mentioned earlier. No tools, all by hand. This camp looked just like something out off a movie. Big bright flood lights, barb wire and wood, with guards walking outside the fence perimeter. Escape was pretty much not going to happen. There was a loud speaker that blared every few minutes calling someone to the Provost Marshals office by the POW number that we got when we stripped. 123 report to the Provost Marshals office. Thats where interrogation took place. Or they were calling everyone to the center of the camp compound, at the flag pole, flying their flag of course, where we had to kneel on rows of 4x4s only knees touched the 4x4, body straight up, all your weight on your knees, else theyd slam you from behind, saluted their flag or be beaten too,. After crawling around for hours it hurt like hell to kneel on a 4x4 after about 5 minutes (give it a try). The salute was sort of like the German straight out arm extension, except these guys held a closed fist at chest level on extension of their arm. Anyway 32 years later I remember my POW number was 212. They called it and resisting, I didnt go. Awhile later they called again, I didnt go. The third time I went. Now by this time they let us stand, the only catch was, you couldnt be taller than the Provost Marshal. Yep, he was a short man, but stooping over was way better than crawling. At this point we also had to salute them anytime we encountered them. So, now Im on my way the Provost Marshals office for my interrogation and in front of me what appears but one of them. He asked where I was going and I told him the Provost Marshals office. He asks if I knew who he was. I didnt, I looked, yep it WAS the Provost Marshal! I did the BS salute, and so did he, a fist right in the middle of my chest. Then he let me leave. When I got into the office, if you could call it that, I was told to sit on a foot locker and wait. I did. While Im sitting there NUDE and the damn lid starts to move under me. It turns out my room mate was in the foot locker, part of his interrogation I guess. They took me directly to a heavy wooden chair with handcuffs on it. They said sit on your hands, if you dont well handcuff you! They asked me stuff. Then they took this large bath towel out of a large bucket of water, wrapped it around my face twisted it tight behind my head and began asking the same and more questions. I remember who is your escape committee leader. Shortly (although it seemed forever) they removed the towel. I said I did know of any leader. They put the towel back around my face. Then they poured water over my head. Same questions while holding the towel snug. This went on for awhile, maybe 10 minutes before I gave them the name Howdy Dowdy I said. They werent impressed and the soaked towel and more water returned to my face. It wasnt long before I broke. When you breathe in and just get water it doesnt take long. Im not proud of that but keep in mind it was training not war. ***From the first link in post#1 Water-boarding means holding a person's head under water or pouring water on cloth or cellophane placed over the nose and mouth to simulate drowning. Theres much more before the end of that night, but let me just say this I was never a POW, but this training, as distasteful as it seems, gave me a glimpse of what it might be like, which I guess was the point. It wasnt just elementary survival training as Psycho puts it. I'll tell ya what if I were ever a POW, Ill take a pair of womens panties over my head any day! Thats a piece of cake. BTW..a year or so after I graduated they shut the POW camp part down, I never found out exactly why.