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thedrifter
08-04-03, 03:43 PM
Posted on Mon, Aug. 04, 2003

To hell and back
Korean War prisoner survived communist horrors in 1950s
By Mark J. Price
Beacon Journal staff writer



There were many times when Steve E. Kiba just wanted to die.

He had been tortured and starved, stripped of humanity, trapped like a rat in a filthy cage.

Hope was all but lost in a dank cell in a foreign land.

But Kiba dreamed of Akron.

His family. His friends.

His freedom.

And he found the will to survive 936 days in hell.

Airman 1st Class Steve E. Kiba was shot down on his first combat mission in the Korean War. The 1950 Kenmore High graduate was 20 years old and serving as the radio operator for a B-29 in the 581st Air Resupply and Communications Wing.

The 14-man crew was dropping leaflets over North Korean cities on the night of Jan. 12, 1953, when it came under attack from a swarm of MiG fighters. It was no contest. Except for tail guns, the B-29 wasn't armed.

Rockets hit the U.S. plane and it exploded in flames. Crew members began to bail out. Kiba tapped out an SOS before parachuting from the burning plane.

He landed safely in the snow and then wandered in the dark,

unable to find his crew. He could hear North Korean soldiers looking for him.

Kiba's thin uniform provided no protection in the bitter cold. To avoid freezing to death, he took a chance on a straw house.

The occupants -- a middle-aged woman and her son -- seemed gracious enough. As Kiba warmed himself next to a cozy fire, the woman slipped outside and notified authorities.

North Korean militiamen burst into the home, grabbed Kiba and seized his pistol.

He was a prisoner.

They marched him for an hour until they met Chinese soldiers who locked him in a stone jail while onlookers gawked. Kiba didn't know it yet, but most of his crew had been caught, too.

``After we were captured, we stayed only four days in North Korea,'' said Kiba, 71, who now lives in Camden, S.C. ``After the fourth day, they put us on a train and they shipped us up to Mukden. That's up in Manchuria.''

The American POWs, oblivious of one another, were blindfolded, manacled and transported deep into China.

They were shuttled from cell to cell in an eight-month interrogation process. There was little food, little sleep and little hope.

``At one place I called `Peanut Palace,' I was getting 15 half-peanuts and a little bun,'' Kiba said. ``You were allowed one cup of hot water a day, and we generally got that at 7 o'clock at night.''

Other meals included rotten potato skins, boiled cabbage and maggot-laced rice. ``You get to the point where you will eat almost anything,'' Kiba said.

During interrogations, the communists employed mental and physical torture.

``Most of the time, you were standing at attention,'' Kiba said. ``You had leg irons on, you had handcuffs on and you were asked all kinds of questions It could last a few hours to 24 hours or longer. All that time, the guy would have the gun at your head.''

Then it was back to solitary confinement. There was no running water or sanitation. A hard board served as a bed.

Kiba remained defiant. His tormentors often chided him for his ``improper behavior.''

``I got to a point where I just didn't care, you know,'' he said.

After three weeks, Kiba was moved to a prison in downtown Peking (now Beijing). He lived in a 10-foot-square room with a 5-gallon bucket as a toilet. Prisoners weren't allowed to bathe. Guards stood watch at all times.

Kiba sarcastically dubbed this prison ``The Hotel.'' He was a ``guest'' there for two months.

In April 1953, he was moved to a prison outside the city. This one he called ``The Spider Web.''

Kiba suspected other Americans were held there. He tapped out Morse code when he heard inmates being led to the latrine.

One day, Kiba accidentally ran into crew mate Daniel C. Schmidt. Guards shuttled him away before they could speak.

Kiba caught glimpses of other prisoners. Some he recognized, like 1st Lt. Paul Van Voorhis, whom he spotted in the courtyard.

Comforting memories helped Kiba pass the long hours.

``You keep thinking about how good it was back home and everything. You worry about your family.''

He thought about his parents, Mary and Steve Kiba, Hungarian immigrants who raised 11 children. He thought about his Kenmore classmates. He thought about his old job as a caddie at Fairlawn Country Club. ``You do what you can to keep your mind going,'' Kiba said.

The communists subjected prisoners to intense indoctrination. Americans were forced to study books about communism. They said the capitalists didn't care if Kiba was alive or dead.

The Korean War ended July 27, 1953, but no one told Kiba.

In fact, events took a turn for the worse. The communists accused the B-29 crew of being spies. They alleged that the Americans were shot down over China, not North Korea, even though the crew was captured 40 miles south of the border.

In October 1954, the men were convicted of war crimes and sentenced to four more years in prison.

One consolation was that the crew moved to bigger quarters and was allowed to interact and be cellmates, except for Col. John Knox Arnold, who had to remain in solitary confinement.

They were troubled, however, by the absence of Van Voorhis, whom Kiba had spotted, and crew mates Henry D. Weese and Alvin D. Hart. Where were they?

Conditions began to improve slightly. Kiba suspected an early release. Meal portions were larger. The communists were trying to fatten them up.

The good news arrived on Aug. 3, 1955.

``We were actually deported,'' Kiba said. ``When they called us together before they let us go, they told us that we were not to come back.''

The men were put on a train.

``I tell you, we didn't really relax until we got across the border,'' Kiba said.

They crossed into Hong Kong at 1:36 p.m. on Aug. 4, 1955. British military police escorted them to a U.S. delegation.

There was an American flag, a thrilling sight. The men hadn't seen one in nearly 32 months.

Air Force Col. Delk Simpson handed each former prisoner a bottle of Coca-Cola. ``I hadn't had one for all that time,'' Kiba said. ``It was really good.''

The men were debriefed, interviewed, photographed and allowed to return home.

It was raining Aug. 13, 1955, when a silver plane landed at Akron-Canton Regional Airport. An airman stepped off.

Kiba was surprised to see hundreds of well-wishers. His family was there. Mary Kiba threw her arms around her son and held him close. No words can describe the emotions.

``It's really hard to explain,'' Kiba said.

Akron Mayor Leo Berg handed him the key to the city. Then a motorcade traveled to Akron Municipal Airport where Kiba greeted another crowd. There had been confusion. Many thought Kiba would land there.

More than 65,000 people gathered downtown Aug. 16 for a Kiba parade. He waved to the cheering crowd while riding with his parents in a convertible.

``It was nice,'' he remembers today. ``But I was tired.''

Kiba had a lot of living to do.

In 1958, he married the former Darlene Mason of Akron. The couple have two children: Alicia Garaux of Canton and Air Force Tech. Sgt. Jeff Kiba of Florida.

In 1959, Kiba earned a bachelor's degree from the University of Akron. In 1967, he earned a master's degree in Spanish from Kent State. He went on to teach English and Spanish at Norton High School for 23 years.

Kiba chronicled his Korean War POW experiences in a book titled The Flag (My Story: Kidnapped by Red China).

``I wrote it because of those that were left behind,'' he said. ``We still have over 8,100 who've never been accounted for.''

Those include his friends Van Voorhis, Weese and Hart. Their remains have never been found.

Kiba testified in 1992 before the Senate Select Committee on POW/MIA Affairs.

He regrets that high schools don't teach students enough about the Korean War.

``I think the kids need to know that some of our fellows were left over there,'' he said.


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Steve E. Kiba's book The Flag (My Story: Kidnapped by Red China) can be ordered at Borders, Barnes & Noble, Amazon.com and 1stbooks.com. It's also at The Bookseller, 39 Westgate Circle, Akron. Mark J. Price is a Beacon Journal copy editor. He can be reached at 330-996-3769 or send e-mail to mjprice@thebeaconjournal.com.

http://www.ohio.com/mld/beaconjournal/news/local/6453264.htm


Sempers,

Roger
:marine: