Stockdale on Stoicism 49

In prison, I never tapped or mentioned Stoicism once. You soon learned that if the guy next door was doing okay, that meant that he had all his philosophical ducks lined up in his own way. 

But some sharp guys read the signs in my actions. 

After one of my long isolations outside the cell-blocks of the prison, I was brought back into signaling range of the fold. My point of contact was a man named Dave Hatcher. 

As was standard operating procedure on a first contact after a long separation, we started off not with gushes of news but with, first, an agreed-upon danger signal; second, a cover story for each of us if we were caught; and third, a back-up communications system if this link was compromised—"slow movin' cagey prisoner" precautions. 

Hatcher's back-up system for me was a note-drop by an old sink near a place we called the Mint, the isolation cell-block of his wing of the prison—a place he rightly guessed I would soon enough be in. Every day we would signal for 15 minutes, over a wall between his cell-block and my "no-man's-land." 

—from James B. Stockdale, Master of My Fate: A Stoic Philosopher in a Hanoi Prison 

IMAGES: Francisco de Goya, The Prisoners (c. 1815) 

"The custody is as barbarous as the crime." 

"The custody of a criminal does not call for torture." 

"If he is guilty, let him die quickly."