ASHINGTON - Shortly after his release from a North Vietnamese prison camp, John McCain sat down with American military investigators in the Philippines and poured out the story of his 51/2 years of torture and captivity.
Over the next quarter-century, McCain rarely spoke about it again.
''It just wasn't discussed in the family that much,'' said his brother, Joe. ''It wasn't that there was anything so awkward about it, just that if anyone was going to talk about it, it should be John.'' Now, in the midst of his presidential campaign, John McCain will be talking nonstop about his ordeal as the prized prisoner of North Vietnam, famous as the son of the commander of US forces in the Pacific.
For the next two weeks, the senior senator from Arizona will be promoting his new book, ''Faith of My Fathers.'' (He will appear at Borders in downtown Boston on Sept. 24.)
Since the day he returned home from Vietnam in 1973, publishers have urged McCain to write his story. He declined.
''I always resisted the entreaties of others because I felt it would be something of an exploitation,'' McCain said in an interview.
McCain did not say what led him to open up now. But recounting his days as a POW is a key element of his campaign strategy, as he travels the country targeting veterans for support. ''I think it should be part of my bio and people should know about it,'' McCain said.
McCain said he decided to write the book, with Mark Salter, his Senate administrative assistant, in order to tell the history of his father and grandfather, both four-star Navy admirals, and his own story in the family's world, where a code of conduct, honor, and patriotism dictate behavior.
But the discomfort of talking about himself lingers. ''Sometimes it embarrasses me,'' said McCain, who still shuns the hero label that many try to pin on him, saying he ''failed'' while in captivity, broken finally in the face of repeated torture.
The story of his captivity began on Oct. 26, 1967, when Lieutenant Commander John Sydney McCain was shot down during a bombing mission over Hanoi. As he ejected from his A-4 fighter jet, he struck the plane, a blow that knocked him unconscious and broke both his arms, and his right knee.
He landed in the middle of Truc Bach Lake, in the center of Hanoi in the bright light of day. He was pulled to shore by an angry group of Vietnamese. Someone bashed him with a rifle butt in the shoulder, breaking yet another body part. Someone else jabbed him with a bayonet in his ankle and groin.
While in prison, McCain refused the offer of an early release, ahead of other prisoners, knowing that to accept would violate the honor code for captured servicemen and embarrass his country, his family, and himself.
But after repeated beatings, McCain wrote and signed a bogus confession of crimes against the people of Vietnam. After further beatings, he recorded his confession on tape.
''I couldn't rationalize away my confession,'' he wrote in his book. ''I was ashamed. I felt faithless, and couldn't control my despair. I shook, as if my disgrace were a fever.''
Intense, but with a sunny personality, the 63-year-old McCain rarely brings up the past in conversation. ''Bored stiff'' is how he feels when talking about his prison experience.
Robert Timberg, the author of the recently published ''John McCain: An American Odyssey,'' said that when he began interviewing McCain about his experiences in Vietnam for an earlier book, the senator was extremely reluctant to say anything that reflected positively on himself. At times, McCain barely responded to his questions, Timberg said.
One day, Timberg brought a book called ''P.O.W.'' to McCain and asked him to read a few pages that had been written about him.
''All I want to know is: Is it accurate?'' Timberg told McCain. ''So he's reading it, three or four pages. He finishes it, slams it shut, and he says, `Well, it's a little melodramatic, but that's what happened.'''
Salter, McCain's co-author, had a similar experience trying to get McCain to talk about his years as a prisoner of war.
''He would answer monosyllabically, `yes, no, yes, no,''' Salter recalled. Over time, McCain became more expansive, telling stories that Salter would put to paper.
While he is reluctant to dwell on the details, McCain has not shied away from his past.
In 1982, McCain was running for Congress from Arizona. In a debate, his opponent accused McCain, who had lived in the state only two years, of being a carpetbagger.
''Listen, pal,'' McCain said heatedly. ''I spent 22 years in the Navy, my father was in the Navy, my grandfather was in the Navy. We in the military service tend to move a lot. We have to live in all parts of the country, all parts of the world.
''I wish I could have had the luxury, like you, of growing up and living and spending my entire life in a nice place like the 1st District of Arizona. But I was doing other things. As a matter of fact, when I think about it now, the place I lived longest in my life was Hanoi.''
That retort may have won McCain the '82 election, and his career took off. He was elected to the Senate in 1986.
Now, the man who was once unwilling or uninterested in talking about his POW experience is running for president with his Navy career at the top of his credential list as he targets veterans for political support. The cover of his new book sports a handsome photograph of McCain in his flight suit. In New Hampshire, giant posters of the same photo are seen at campaign events as he talks to voters.
Earlier this year, his campaign sent out 50,000 biographical videos to voters in the first primary state. Forty-three percent of the recipients sent back cards asking for more information. Focus groups have told his campaign that after learning about McCain's life story, they are more willing to believe that he will do what he promises.
Timberg said the senator has a right to introduce himself to the voters as a former POW.
Still, McCain said he knows that running as a genuine American hero does not always work. In 1996, he Republican nominee Bob Dole talked about his World War II wounds and his struggle to recover. Dole's campaign never took off.
Another Senate colleague, John Glenn, the first American to orbit the earth, failed in his 1984 presidential bid.
''John Glenn proved as many others proved, you have to be able to articulate a vision for the country if you want people to support you,'' he said. ''John Glenn was a true American hero, but he couldn't articulate a vision for the country.''
McCain hopes he can.
