Nation: The Last P.O.W.

Is Bobby Garwood a traitor?

It was his first birthday party with his family in 16 years, and he had looked forward to celebrating with a home-cooked meal and a cake baked by his stepmother. But it was more an occasion for sadness than joy for Marine Private First Class Robert Russell Garwood, 33, the last American P.O.W. to come home from Viet Nam. Instead of a hero’s welcome, he was greeted on his return by a volley of accusations by other ex-P.O.W.s that he was actually a deserter who had willingly helped the Viet Cong beat and interrogate American prisoners. Last week the Marine Corps asked its naval superiors to conduct a formal investigation of the charges, which Garwood denies.

Bobby Garwood’s Viet Nam saga began in Indianapolis in 1963, when the shy, slight youth dropped out of high school and, at the age of 17, enlisted in the Marines. Two years later, Garwood went to Viet Nam with the Third Marine Division, which was based in Danang. On Sept. 28, 1965, he disappeared while driving a Jeep. He was not seen by another American soldier until March 1968, when the Viet Cong herded several captured GIs into a Viet Cong prison camp in the mountains near the Laotian border. “He was on the other side, no question about it,” says former Army Staff Sergeant David Harker, who was imprisoned in the camp for 16 months and is now a probation officer in Lynchburg, Va. “He collaborated. He took special favors. I don’t know if traitor is the right word. I guess I’d call him a crossover.”

Other ex-P.O.W.s told John G. Hubbell, author of the book P.O. W., that Garwood “occasionally was put in charge of the American P.O.W.s” and “had no qualms about barking orders at them.”

Harker recalls that one night, half a dozen hungry prisoners angered their guards, including Garwood, by butchering and preparing to cook a cat. They were forced to stand at attention until a prisoner named Russ told the Viet Cong that he had killed the cat. The Vietnamese guards then beat and kicked him. Says Harker: “Bob Garwood came up to us and said we were all going to have to pay for what happened to Russ. Bob blamed us for what had happened. He hit me one time in the ribs, but hurt my feelings more than anything else.”

Harker remembers that on another occasion, Garwood brought a chicken to the P.O.W.s. Says Harker: “He was trying to win our favor. He said he had stolen it from a guard. Before he left, he said he wanted the two legs, while the rest of the chicken was shared by 15 of us.”

When the Vietnamese released the American P.O.W.s in 1973, Garwood remained in Viet Nam. Two months ago, he passed a note to a businessman from Finland stating that he wanted to come home. The State Department quickly arranged for his release.

With the war long over, many of Garwood’s fellow P.O.W.s feel that he should not be court-martialed. “I dislike what he did, there’s no denying that,” says Harker. “I don’t feel he should get off without a reprimand. I say he should be allowed to go free.”

Garwood’s attorney, Dermot Foley, claims that his client is “desperately” in need of psychiatric care. “His defense is an absolute denial of the charges,” says Foley. “There is no evidence against Bobby. He was held in Viet Nam against his will.” Foley says that Garwood was shot during his capture and “surrounded by death” during the 14 years he spent in Viet Nam. “One particular P.O.W. death still overwhelms Bobby,” says Foley. “He still has trouble talking about it, but when the story comes out it will greatly help explain what he did during those 14 years.”

Pending the outcome of the Navy’s official investigation, the Marines have tentatively charged Garwood with desertion, soliciting U.S. combat forces to lay down their arms, and unlawful dealing with the enemy. If he is court-martialed on these charges and convicted, he could be sentenced to death.