McCain’s causes often infuriate conservatives. But from soldier to senator to presidential candidate, his independence has never been negotiable.
« There was no curtain, no retirement, » wrote Lord Rosebery of Winston Churchill’s father, Randolph. » He died by inches in public. »
If Arizona Sen. John McCain’s diagnosis of aggressive brain cancer proves to be accurate, McCain’s inches will soon become yards, and those yards will become miles. It was 50 years ago Thursday that McCain was shot down over North Vietnam, and it now seems probable that glioblastoma will do what a fall from the heavens and subsequent torture by Vietnamese soldiers couldn’t do — deprive America of McCain’s singularly heroic life.
Since the diagnosis, which McCain has called » very, very serious, » the longtime senator has drawn the ire of fellow Republicans for dramatically casting the deciding vote against a major GOP effort to scale back former president Barack Obama’s signature health care law. In recent months, McCain has leveled numerous criticisms at President Trump, including condemning Trump’s policy in Syria, his attempts to draw a moral equivalence between white supremacist marchers and counter-protesters in Charlottesville, Va., Trump’s calling the media « the enemy, » and his attempts to set transgender military policy through Twitter.
Predictably, McCain’s unwillingness to genuflect to Trump has made him an enemy of those not fit to wash his underwear. This includes a president who claimed McCain was not « a war hero » because he was shot down and captured. » I like people that weren’t captured, » said candidate Donald Trump, who received five deferments to avoid service in Vietnam, the final one for having » bone spurs » in his feet.
McCain, however, requested to go to Vietnam, as both his father and grandfather had served honorably in the U. S. Navy. As he said in his first memoir, McCain wanted to serve his country » to keep faith with the family creed. »
On Oct. 26,1967, McCain found his A-4 fighter hurtling towards the ground at 550 miles per hour. His plane had been hit by Vietnamese ground forces during his bombing run over Hanoi; knowing he had only seconds to live, McCain ejected from his cockpit, hitting the plane on the way out and breaking his left arm, his right arm in three places, and his right knee.
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Knocked unconscious in the fall, McCain came to when he hit the waters of Truc Bach Lake. But he was quickly dragged out by a large group of Vietnamese, who kicked him, struck him, and spit on him. As a prisoner nursing grievous wounds, he was still tortured endlessly in hopes of extracting information about U. S. operations. Pressed for information, he gave the names of the Green Bay Packers’ offensive line as members of his squadron.
All told, McCain spent nearly five years in solitary confinement, communicating primarily with other prisoners through a complex code delivered by tapping on the thick cell walls. His injuries from the poor medical care he received have stayed with him for the remainder of his life.
And it is a life any of us should have been honored to lead. From soldier to senator to presidential candidate, McCain has always been his own man. While his forays into limiting campaign speech and, more recently, his crusade against gerrymandering are often infuriating to conservatives, his independence was not negotiable. (And he wasn’t shy about saying so in front of a camera or microphone, which once compelled MSNBC’s Chris Matthews to note that » The press loves McCain. We’re his base. »)
One can only dream of living a life in which the worst thing that can be said of it is that it was insufficiently ideological. Especially when, in McCain’s case, the best that can be said is that he has been a model of American greatness, strength and valor. Despite sacrificing five torturous years of his life in service of a war he would later criticize, McCain has never missed an opportunity to extol the virtues of American exceptionalism. It is a voice we will all miss when the time comes.
When told that a sailor’s life was miserable, Samuel Johnson once responded that « the profession of sailors and soldiers has the dignity of danger. All men feel ashamed at not having been at sea or in battle. »
John McCain willingly conquered the dangers of battle, and rose to prominence with dignity. It is a path many of his critics should be ashamed not to celebrate.
Christian Schneider is a member of USA TODAY’s Board of Contributors. Follow him on Twitter: @Schneider_CM.
