RESISTANCE & ESCAPE
Like kryptonite, the frigid concrete floor of my prison cell continued to weaken my naked body, draining away any remaining ability to resist my interrogators, and their menacing attempts to break my will. Feeling that if I sat there in the restrictive “People’s position” (a modified lotus) any longer, I would be unable to bear it, and surmising that it must now be late at night since the disturbing sounds of torture and screaming had faded, I cautiously rose to stretch and try to generate some body heat. It seemed that every time that I had attempted to do this before, my cell door would swing open to the angry face of a military guard, intent upon teaching me to never leave that position again, but this time I remained alone in my solitary confinement, free to explore my 4’ x 3’ living quarters for the first time. Only the maniacal psycho-manipulative music that was being blasted into my cell, through a small hole in the ceiling could be heard now. My body was sore from being violently thrown to the ground after being captured that morning, and from the abuse that my interrogators had inflicted upon me, but for the most part I was still in pretty good physical condition, and my thoughts began to explore the possibility of escape. After all, this was our clear directive as prisoners of war: resist and escape at all costs, or help others escape, causing the enemy to expend enormous time and resources trying to re-capture or prevent you from escaping in the first place.
At this point, it would be helpful to reveal the fact that this was a mock POW camp, and while it is true that I was a prisoner of the fictional, “People’s Liberation Army” for a time, I was actually a student, taking part in a practical training exercise run by the military survival school known as, SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape). Perhaps the most psychologically challenging and realistic of all military schools; SERE training requires its students to think critically in the most arduous of circumstances, deliberating life and death scenarios at every turn. Everyone who attends SERE, without exception, is deeply impacted by its implications, because almost without fail, everyone who attends is forced to make critical decisions that reflect poorly upon who they believe they are, and what they profess to stand for. Escaping from this course with your dignity and honor still intact is exceptionally rare.
With that in mind, the cinderblock construction of my cell was impossible to penetrate with no tools, but from what I had seen of my door and the flimsy sound it made when it was slammed shut, I knew it was my only hope, and perhaps there was a weakness that could be exploited. Quietly, I began to probe every inch of the door, feeling along for any clue that might lead to an idea of how to spring me. Noticing that there was a sizable gap between the frame and the door, I forced my fingers as far into the crack as I possibly could; searching for an escape route. When I reached the crack at the top of the door, one of my fingers sensed an irregularity and I went back over that section again several times, but still was not able to make out what it was that my fingertips were sensing. Becoming desperate and believing I may be onto something, I pushed and stretched my fingers, with great pain, even further into the crack, but still was unable to define what it was.
Finally, I pushed on the upper part of the door with one hand and jammed my other hand into the gap, to the point of getting stuck, but I quickly realized that one of my fingers had caught something. It was a small, thin, wire cable, running horizontally across the top of the door. Just barely snagging this cable with the tip of my finger, I began to tug gently down to see what would happen, and to my absolute shock and amazement, I heard the sound of a latch mechanism, and my door gently opened a few inches. I was immediately horrified and exhilarated all at the same time, and I quickly closed the door and sat back down in the “people’s position”, assured that within seconds, a guard would be throwing the door open and inflicting more pain upon me for my insolence.
However, nothing happened, so I rose again and repeated the steps I had taken before, achieving the same results. Sure enough, the door popped open again, and my mind began racing. “I’ve done it! I know how to escape!” I said to myself, but was this just a ploy to trick us into trying to escape, a safety mechanism to release prisoners quickly in case of fire, or had I discovered a method of escape that few other students had ever stumbled upon. To me, it really was one of those, flash of genius insights, but perhaps I was assuming too much. I began stealthily cracking the door open even wider to catch a glimpse of the corridor outside, of which I had never seen before due to the black bag that had shrouded my head during transits. My eyes were drawn to a massive convex mirror in the corner of the cell block, where I saw a sleeping guard in the back of the room. This was my chance; all I had to do was notify my commanding officer of my intentions to escape, make my way past the guard, and I would be home free.
This of course is where my problems really began, because the only method of communication available to us was known as the, “Tap Code”; a Morse-code type system of taping on walls that was developed by POW’s in the Vietnam War, decades earlier. They may have found this system helpful after spending literally years in solitary, but for those of us who had just learned it a few days earlier in a class room, it was impossible to use and after tapping at each other for a few hours earlier that day, we all gave up. Still, the requirement existed that I inform my chain of command before attempting escape, so as to not endanger the lives of others who were also making plans, so I tapped and tapped on three separate walls trying to convey the exciting news of my imminent escape plans, to anyone who would listen, and trying to get them to pass this info on to the Charlie Oscar, but to no avail, and I slumped down the cold wall of my cell in frustration. “I’ll go it alone!” I said, clearly operating on a self-preserving basis, and I set out to make my break whether I had permission or not. It would have been great to get some kind of confirmation or credible alternatives from at least one of my fellow prisoners, but it was not to be and I headed out the door.
However, I didn’t even get completely outside of my door, before I was struck with the serious ramifications of this action, and I hastily returned again to the safety of my cell to contemplate further. This could have severe implications such as; looking like a total idiot for foiling the plans of other high ranking officers in our chain of command, who may have been planning to spring a large number of people (Great Escape style), or worse-case scenario; I could fail this course and have to come back here again. My overconfidence and optimism in planning were at the very least going to get me into a lot of trouble with the leadership of the school, if this wasn’t exactly what they had in mind for attempted escapes, and I began to have intense second thoughts about the wisdom of making this decision.
On the other hand, I relished the idea of being the hero of the day, if I was successful. Even though this was only training, it remains to this day, highly prestigious training, and rumors had been swirling around this school for years, that only a small handful of Navy SEALS had ever been able to successfully escape. This was like candy in our young mouths as we all fantasized of accomplishing such a feat of courage and audacity, in the eyes of our peer group. After all, it was well known that the CIA was integrally involved with the administration of this training; from its research and development, to utilizing it to train their own intelligence officers and interrogators. Nevertheless, I soon found myself sitting down again, processing all of the possibilities that lay before me, but of course, we just don’t know, what we don’t know, and this stream of logic began to hamstring my efforts. As Kahneman says in his article on decision making, “…our intuitive mind constructs a coherent narrative base on the evidence we have, making up for holes in it, we tend to overlook what is missing” (32), and the fact of the matter was, I had no idea what was on the other side of that door; assuming I could even make it past the guard in the hallway.
As I continued to ponder these things, the most astonishing thought overtook me, from which I never could recover: the words, “I don’t want to escape!” entered my mind for the first time, and it sank me like a battleship. I began to think that; as bad as it was in that cell, it was nothing compared to what I was going to endure, at the hands of those CIA interrogators, having dared an ill-fated escape and was captured again. Perhaps, after beating and interrogating me again, even more harshly than they had before, they would make an example out of me, possibly parading me around naked, mocking me and ridiculing me in front of the same friends and colleagues that I desired so much to impress by my heroics. The cell wasn’t so bad, was it? After all, I was warmer now after so much activity, I was being left alone for the moment, and surely I could endure for a while longer until the training was over. Why draw attention to myself?
In the final analysis, I never again even considered making an attempt to escape using the special knowledge that I had gained about my cell door that night, I successfully completed the training, and went on to complete the career for which this training prepared me, but I’ve never forgotten the personal dilemma that this decision or lack of decision caused in my life to the present day. Stepping back from the actual events of this decision, however, an added dimension comes into view; the spiritual dimension. Far too many Christians stumble upon the vital spiritual truths of our faith, but fail to implement them because of the fear of man, and what the world will think of them. Choosing rather to remain in the relative safety of their bondage than to venture out in faith and obedience to the Lord, they slam the door on the freedom and victory found in Christ.
Works Cited
Kahneman, Daniel., Dan Lovallo, and Olivier Sibony. On Making Smart Decisions: Before You Make The Big Decision. Boston, MA: Harvard Business Review Press. 2013. Print.
