Francisco Oliveras-Padilla spent Christmas 1951 in a Chinese prisoner-of-war camp somewhere in North Korea, wondering whether he would survive.
Frightened and suffering from a bullet wound to his leg, his prospects seemed dismal.
Two years later, he was freed and returned to his native Puerto Rico, surprising his family who thought he was dead.
And it was six decades after that — just this past summer — when the soldier's valor was recognized with a belated presentation of medals he earned for service to his country.
But family members who in recent years had sought the medals are grateful that recognition came in time to cheer his last days. Oliveras-Padilla, 85, of Longwood, died Wednesday from complications of Alzheimer's and strokes.
"In the days after he got the medals his whole semblance and attitude changed. He held the medals and looked at them," said Longwood City Commissioner Bob Cortes, a longtime friend whose sister is married to Oliveras-Padilla's son.
Oliveras-Padilla, who served in the Army's 65th Infantry Regiment during the Korean War, had been told when he mustered out of the service that he was due seven medals, including ones for his wound and being a prisoner of war. But he did not bother to get them, choosing instead to quickly put the war behind him.
Perhaps it was the times. The Korean conflict, as it was called at the time, was a war with no resolution that ramped up fears of Communism and suspicions that U.S. prisoners held by the Chinese had been "brainwashed."
Chinese propaganda was widespread in an effort to dispirit American soldiers. His captors pulled Oliveras-Padilla into the mix by releasing a letter, now posted online in a collection of Korean War propaganda, that they claimed he wrote to a fellow soldier telling how well he was being treated.
Family members say Oliveras-Padilla never said he was abused, although he did not get very good medical treatment and a bullet remained lodged in his leg until his death. But they are skeptical of the letter written in English because of his poor command of the language — and the fact that it was dated less than a week after his capture Dec. 8, 1951, when he would not have been able to make the broad assessment of his conditions that was claimed.
Back in his native Bayamon, Puerto Rico, Oliveras-Padilla married, had a son and worked for years, first as a TV repairman and then operating his own bicycle shop.
"He lost two years, but he never wanted to talk about the war," said son Edgardo Oliveras, who brought his parents stateside a few years ago when his father's health declined.
Instead, Edgardo said, his father enjoyed life, easily made friends and "was good and honest." And he was a champion at dominoes, a popular game in Puerto Rico and some Latin countries.
In addition to his son, who lives in Longwood, Oliveras-Padilla also is survived by his wife of 52 years, Sara Rodriguez; three grandchildren; and six great-grandchildren.
Baldwin Fairchild Funeral Home West in Altamonte Springs is handling arrangements.
dweber@tribune.com or 407-883-7885
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