Capt Robertson's seemingly random interrogation of me in Tokyo, Sept 21, continued aggressively until Lt Decker interrupted with a complaint about the Army officer's manner. Decker's initial way of putting it was that Robertson had asked that Chief Thorin be brought to his Tokyo apartment for "discussion" of the charges he had made in his statement, but was acting as though Thorin was himself on trial for something. He complained about Robertson's manner towards myself, to which the Army officer responded that it was only a matter of technique attempting to draw out further information, and so on.
Robertson did not include Decker's statements of complaints in his transcript, but inserted as if it were transcript. "Further testimony of Chief Thorin interrupted at this time by Lt. Decker who felt that the comments were not pertinent. Now for the next question:"
Robertson also did not include in the transcript my own interruptive remarks, thanking Lt Decker for his concern about the way Robertson was questioning me, but assuring him that the Army captain was not really disturbing me; that to some extent I found it amusing and at the same time quite revealing as to how Naylor-Foote was trying to evade the real issue. After which I said in conclusion: "... now and again in the past year and a half I've had to contend with some real interrogators. Compared to them he (with a nod toward Robertson) wouldn't rank as even a good amateur."
Robertson didn't ask but a few more questions after that, nor seem to be very much interested in my answers to those he did ask. Decker asked a few for the record, to clarify a couple of points which he felt Robertson might prefer to leave unclarified. Decker and I reviewed the encounter some on the way back to the hospital that night. The following day I prepared an addendum for the interrogation transcript, emphasizing that if I had known Ettinger's actual physical condition — that he was able to put himself in the sling for hoisting — I would not have taken Naylor-Foote in place of my crewman. The statement in closing was: "Since such a mission would have been routine, as far as pickup technique is concerned, there would have been no chance for the combination of events which caused our crash."
We expected additional requests from Army for discussion or interview, but none were forthcoming at once. Decker refused somebody's request that I be kept available in the hospital during regular "working" hours, just in case someone might have a question or two. I needed only to call in of a morning and shortly after noontime, in case he wanted me to return to the hospital.
After a few days of no action, Decker scheduled my departure for Stateside. But when I returned to the hospital ready to pick up the travel orders, an Army major intercepted me. Very apologetically, he explained he'd been directed to "interview" me further. His pardner for the interview, another major, had been stationed at the airfield to intercept me in case I might have gone directly there. While awaiting his pardner's arrival, we discussed nothing at all of the case, talking instead of things in general of what had been experienced while in enemy hands.
From the very beginning of the interview, it was evident the two majors were of objective purpose. There was none at all of the sort of arrogance and hostility which had exuded from Capt Robertson. Theirs were the manner and attitude of real soldiers; if not borne of personal combat experience, then certainly of a combination of intelligence and professionalism which enabled them to appreciate my own circumstance, and at least not make superficial assumptions as to my motives. Probably they were from among those of the Army people Lt Decker had mentioned as being "damn' grateful" that the matter had been brought directly to themselves in Tokyo, rather than having it "blasted" back at them from Army HQ in Washington.
And it was in fact an "interview," a quest for further information; rather than an interrogation in the sense of questioning or challenging what had already been given. There was at the outset, invitation to again express my specific charges against Naylor-Foote and Ulatoski, and briefly describe the events from which they had arisen. So it was done, simply and bluntly, as in the first instance with Decker and Hess; with conclusion along the following lines:
"There is really no question, gentlemen, but that Naylor-Foote deliberately lied to me about Ettinger's physical condition in order that I might take him along on the mission in place of my crewman. Had he not done so — had I known Ettinger could be picked up by our regular hoist procedure — I would not have taken Naylor-Foote along ....
"There is a question if Naylor-Foote did that entirely on his own or in collusion with Ulatoski. Ettinger had told Ulatoski that he could put himself in the sling. Ulatoski I expect would have relayed that fact to Naylor-Foote, but may have at the same time advised Naylor-Foote that if he wanted to go along on the mission he'd have to tell me otherwise. The possibility of such collusion between the two of them, then, is the reason I suggested in my formal statement that Ulatoski should be questioned separately before the two of them might be able to confer on any of these matters."
Reaction of the two majors (or perhaps more accurately their lack of much reaction) to my candid statements about both Naylor-Foote and Ulatoski, told me at the time that they probably had already heard the same from Decker and Hess even before my formal statement had been written. Now, in retrospect, it is also clear that before they interviewed me those two majors would have heard or read Naylor-Foote's account of the entire operation in his "Basic Interrogation Narrative." And they were quite obviously much too intelligent to be taken in by it.
They asked no further questions about Naylor-Foote. Ulatoski was the focus of attention. They wanted to know just how much of the plan he started to present aboard the ship was actually presented before I stopped him. (They of course were aware then, while I was not until 30 years later, that the plan Ulatoski was trying to present had been authored by Naylor-Foote.)
Because Ulatoski's opening remark about going in "under cover of darkness" and then hovering by a fire was preposterous, that was as far as it went. Having learned that, the majors would then have realized that I had actually not heard any details of the plan which Naylor-Foote had described in his "narrative."
They asked if Ulatoski had mentioned a Sgt Terry, as possibly going along on the mission. That was reminder of Capt Robertson's similar question, and of the way he had reacted to my negative answer. To the majors I replied that Ulatoski had not mentioned any names at all, only that he had a man ready to go along with me. And that one turned out to be Naylor-Foote, whose name was not mentioned until introduction to him on the island. [Although I did at that moment remember that a self-wounded man was hauled to the ship along with Naylor-Foote, since it had no evident bearing on the matters at hand, it was not mentioned. The Majors were of course aware from Naylor-Foote's narrative that the wounded man carried along on that trip was Sgt Terry. They made no mention of it.]
The question if Ulatoski may have suggested taking two men along as crewman, brought a recollection which hadn't occurred when Robertson had asked. When Ulatoski was first told I'd not take the man he offered along on the mission because I had my own trained and experienced crewman, he had at once suggested that I could take his still unnamed man along in addition. He was then told the helicopter couldn't carry two crewmen and pick up a third man.
[So Ulatoski was somewhat aware of that, although he didn't remember it accurately when questioned later. Naylor-Foote did not know it. Therefore in his post-repatriation "narrative" he continued to talk of taking someone along to ride "shotgun" on his fictional "first" mission and also in his "plan" for the actual one, on which he reported that I "accompanied" him as the pilot. On top of that, Naylor-Foote included in his "narrative" (p 37) that in addition to picking up Ettinger, he thought he might want to bring one of the "guerilla" agents back with him to the island. Note that despite such impracticalities as that, in Naylor-Foote's "narrative," and his subsequent complaint when reinterrogated that no one had "pointed out" to him that there were limits as to what the helicopter could carry and therefor a danger of overloading, the analyst in G2 Washington (Ms Finke) and her supervisor-guide for the study, Lt Col Hagood, accepted as valid Naylor-Foote's report of having planned and conducted his imaginary "first" attempt, and apparently that he was somehow actually qualified to plan the real one, as he claimed.]
The response to the majors when they asked that question in Tokyo, would have wiped out in their minds, anyone's suggestion that I surely must have heard of Sgt Terry because he was such a prominent part of Naylor-Foote's "plan" for the mission as he had described it in his "narrative." If they may have thought (as so many others seemed to) that I should remember his name because he was the self-wounded man hauled to the ship that day with Naylor-Foote, they chose not to mention it.
The majors were much interested in the extent of qualifications which Ulatoski had attributed to "his man" (who turned out to be Naylor-Foote) whom he thought should in any case be taken along in place of my crewman. My response to that was for the most part repetition of what had been included in written statement, which the majors had obviously studied quite thoroughly. I sensed that their question on that was probably to see if my reply would be consistent with what I had written. There was no reason to feel offended, if such were the case. That would be entirely proper for them to have done.
There was no indication of doubt in those two inquisitors' minds about my charge that Ulatoski had misrepresented his rank when I had met him aboard the Rochester. They asked if I recalled the exact character of any of the awards he wore, along with his unwarranted captain's bars. That sort of detail had not even been particularly noted at the time; only that there were sufficient of ribbons to indicate considerable of experience including some combat awards.
There was slight change of expression in the lead major's face, after that, as he led into an aspect of my statement which turned out to have been troubling him some. He broached the matter along the following lines:
"You are of course entirely correct, Chief, that Ulatoski was still first lieutenant when you met him aboard the Rochester. And I've no reason really to doubt in the least that he did, as you have charged, misrepresent himself to you and your commander as a captain...." Both officers were watching my expression very closely as he continued, deliberately slow, "And you also are quite correct that he was actually promoted to captain about two months later ......"
There was a pause, probably awaiting comment, if I might make it; in any case with both men watching closely for any reaction. On my own part, was conscious effort to show no reaction at the point. A nod of acknowledgement, further served my purpose, while waiting for him to proceed.
The expression on the major's face was very serious, seemed almost worried, as he did so. "You've got it pegged right down to his date of rank — April 15th of '52...."
He waited again for a response. Another acknowledging nod was all that he received. There was pleasure in stringing him along, because of the feeling he would himself be quite amused when he finally got the answer.
"Now, Chief," there was hesitance as though of uncertainty how best to express it, "there's a little something here that I find a bit hard to follow. You were captured in February, and prisoner ever since. Ulatoski was promoted to captain in April. How did you know — how did you find out while you were captive, that Ulatoski had been promoted to captain, and exactly when?"
It was not expressed as an "Aha, gotcha!" sort of question, as a less competent or less cautious interrogator might have done. He was truly puzzled, perhaps even a bit worried. He remained so after I had answered:
"I didn't know it then, major. I found those things out after I got back. That's mentioned in my formal statement which you have there."
"I know that's what you said in here, Chief. Which is part of what's disturbing me about it. Because I know that at the time you wrote this..." (He tapped the document as he spoke.) "...when you first wrote this part of it, that is, you hadn't been out of this hospital since your arrival; hardly out of this room."
"Didn't have to go out of this room, major," I told him. "There's a wealth of information available right here in this room, right at my fingertips. Would you like me to tell you where Ulatoski is right now?"
"You know where he is now?" The major's tone seemed anxious.
"Unless he's been moved in the last few days," I replied with deliberate softness, "he's in Moscow."
The looks on both of the majors' faces was at least akin to one of shock. Certainly they were stunned. It was time to let them off the hook. I pushed the phone on the desk a little closer to the lead major, told him the number he could dial and to expect a "well-cultured feminine voice, perhaps with slight oriental accent," which would pleasantly provide the same kind of information and perhaps more about any US Army officer he might wish to name. Then into what seemed to be a partly embarrassed and partly amused silence of the two officers I added, "...And you won't even have to tell her who you are, or where you're calling from, or why you want to know."
"Army locater service," he said to himself. Then with elbows on the desk, he dropped his head into his hands, shaking it gently side to side. Next, the two looked at each other for a while, in manner which indicated they had probably puzzled together about that matter for some time. In short order, any embarrassment which they might have felt was gone. We shared the amusement with very little of conversation; until the one at the desk looked at me and said, in jest and yet sincerely:
"What the hell you doin' as a chief in the Navy? Come on over to Army — with us — and I can guarantee you'd have a major's rank in three months. We could sure use a guy like you in this business."
"Well now, I really do appreciate the offer, major," I said quite as sincerely. "I'm honored by it. And I'm sure you'll not take this as personal, but I'm not so sure but what being a Navy chief is in some ways better than being an Army major. Maybe not as much pay and privilege, but when it comes to prestige...."
"I think maybe I have to agree with you on that, too," he said. "If the backing you've been getting from your outfit, compared to what we've been...." He cut himself short on what he'd started to say, then said anew: "Don't know if you're aware of it, Chief, but you've got one helluva fan club in that gang from COMNAVFE."
That was nice to hear, even though it was no surprise and required no comment. The usually silent (listener) member of the Army team then said:
"Chief — I get the feeling that you did that deliberately, just to see if anyone would catch it." (he was referring to my inclusion of Ulatoski's date of rank in my statement.)
"Yes, sir. I certainly did," I responded. "But I want you to please understand, I didn't do it for amusement. I wasn't trying to be funny ......"
They awaited something further. I continued rather disjointedly along the following lines:
"Quite frankly, gentlemen, I did it because I'd begun to wonder — because of what I've experienced in the past year and a half, I'd begun to wonder — and I'm not talking only about the two officers I've had to make charges against, not even primarily about them. In that regard, what I've wondered is how two such undependable officers got there — in such an important job as that on Nan-do — who put them there...."
"Chief —" the lead major of the team interrupted. "We've been wondering exactly that same thing. When I say I 'we,' I'm not meaning just the two of us here. There's quite a few of us here in G2 that are disturbed about that very situation. We knew we had a problem in this regard, long before you came back. We even knew pretty well what thee\ problem was, or is. But we haven't been able to do much about it because — well, I guess it's because some in the outfit didn't want to admit what the problem really is, or even admit that there is one....
"What you've done is brought us some real proof of the problem — proof that there is a problem — and also of how serious a problem it is. So maybe you've given us a handle, to get hold of so we can do something about it...."
[Note: Again it is not claimed to remember all such dialogue and dissertation, verbatim. It is nonetheless valid as to substance and essence, and in some of the more vivid points is in fact recalled essentially word for word.]
Such was the general nature of some continued conversation in conclusion of that interview, in late September, 1952. The basic circumstance — that is the sensitivity for reasons of security of many aspects of the investigation — forbid that I should be told any details of what was happening in that investigation process right then, or what might happen later on. Yet I did nonetheless derive from it the that there we're people in Army who would do their best to correct the deficiencies and other faults in their own agency which the events I had reported to them vividly demonstrated. Lt Decker had told me at the outset that such was the case. Those two majors were my only proof to that time that it was so.
Had my motive in the matter been mere vengeance, against the two junior officers who were direct cause of the catastrophe, my disconnection from the Tokyo scene would have been of great disappointment. For the majors did again tell me (as Lt Decker had forewarned) not to expect that Naylor-Foote and Ulatoski would likely receive the kind of public trial and punishment that their actions in fact did warrant. In addition to jeopardizing sensitive, security information and possibly the lives of friendly agents in the still-"enemy" territory of North Korea, a court of inquiry and/or courts-martial could make more difficult the internal corrections which their agency sorely needed.
The nature of my motives was equally important to those Army men. One of them explained to me along the following lines:
"If you wanted to go on Stateside now and blab about this mess you've been through, there's not a damn' thing anyone can really do to stop you. You could write a book! And it'd be a best seller. You could make a movie...! Someone over in "NAVFE" says there's already one being made about you. And you could probably make a million bucks out of it! ...
"I can tell you this much — there's been a few around here and elsewhere trying to figure some way to keep you from talking about it — under strict orders, threat of courts-martial and all sorts of stuff. But there's no way! There's no way short of assassination anybody could keep you from telling it to the world, if you were to decide that was the thing to do. And if you did go back there and do a lot of talking about it — or even a little bit of talking about some of it — it'd pretty much wipe us out in what we're trying to do to straighten things out ....
"As for me — I'm really not the least bit worried you'll do something like that. If you wanted to do that, you wouldn't have come here to Tokyo to tell us about it in the first place. As for those who still think you might —. Well I think some of them might be worried that you might do the sort of things they'd like to do if they were in your place."
At the very close of our conversation, the major apologized again for having had to keep me off that plane headed Stateside; and still more because I would be detained for at least two more days, in case there might be further questions for me. He hoped there wouldn't be, in which case he'd not be seeing me again. His advance "farewell" included expression of gratitude, not only from himself but from some of his Army colleagues, unnamed and forever unknown to myself:
"We do appreciate the sacrifice of your own time in order to bring all of this to our attention. We'll do our best to make it worth your while."
There were no further questions. Two days later Lt Decker escorted me to an Air Force transport bound for the USA. Which disconnected me from the turmoil of Army G2 in Tokyo — though still with some very strong strings attached.
The Tokyo Disconnection (Part 3)
©2002, 2003 by Lynn Waterman; used by permission of the author, Duane Thorin.