I originally posted this in shorter form as a comment in Chico David's diary, which, as I write this, is about to fall off the rec list. This, and another diary by Bob Johnson has caused me to think about my own feelings and beliefs concerning a military draft. To say the least, I have some rather conflicting emotions about this subject, and some of the comments that have appeared in these two diaries.
As can be seen by my moniker, I did serve. I joined the Army in 1968, after dropping out of college, and one step ahead of being drafted. I served in Vietnam as an infantry officer, and returned home alive.
I became passionately anti-war after that, became a national coordinator for Vietnam Veterans Against the War, and was arrested and put on trial for my anti-war activities. As a veteran, I was a strong supporter of those who resisted military service, and I was active in the amnesty movement after the war. For those interested in a bit more of my history, this is my story here.
I understood that there were those like Meteor Blades who took a public and principled stand of resistence, and suffered the consequences. Others fled the country. Many simply took advantage of the many loopholes that existed, and legally (or quasi-legally) avoided military service. I don't have any quarrel with that, I suppose. The reality is that during the Vietnam period, the majority of those of draft age did NOT serve.
Here's my dilemma: I didn't particularly want to go into the military, but I did. I made a choice to do my duty to my country. You can argue whether it was the right choice or not (and I argue with myself about it every day), but it was the one I made. It was a thing of principle for me.
I have no problem with the stance of those like Meteor Blades, who made a different choice, but also one based on principle, and one that required courage. I guess the rub for me is that I fail to see the "courage" involved in slipping through the myriad loopholes available at the time to avoid service and save one's own skin. I know, that's harsh. That's why the whole thing is such a dilemma for me.
The second conflicting emotion I have is that even with my passionate anti-war stance, I am also a passionate believer in service to your country. I believe in a draft -- a national service, no deferrment payment for the freedoms that we enjoy. We here in the U.S., despite all the problems and failings that we rant on about every day, are priveleged to live in such a country. We have rights and benefits that we take for granted that others can and do die for. To ask for each citizen to give back to the country for the freedoms that we enjoy is a duty and an honor that all should welcome and none should avoid.
I don't have any answers. I'll just leave you all with these stories of two conscientious objectors who won the Congressional Medal of Honor.
Desmond Doss:
Desmond T. Doss seemed an unlikely candidate to become a war hero. As a devout member of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church, he would not drill or train on Saturday because his church recognizes it as their Sabbath Day. He would not carry a gun because he believed all killing was wrong. He wouldnt even eat meat after seeing a chicken flopping around with its head cut off.
23-year-old Desmond Doss entered service as a medic for the 77th Infantry Division. From the beginning, the other men in his company made fun of Doss for his beliefs. Even though he worked long, hard hours to make up for not working on Saturday, the men cursed, ridiculed, and taunted him. Each night as he knelt beside his bunk to pray, the men swore at him and threw their boots at him. When Doss quietly read his small Bible, as he often did, the men cursed him even more. One man even went so far as to tell him that he would personally kill Doss when they got into combat.
Not only did the men not like Doss, even though he did nothing to them, but the Army just didnt know what to do with a soldier who would not work on Saturday, who wouldnt carry a gun, and who didnt eat meat. At one point, his commanding officer tried to initiate a Section Eight (unfit for military service) discharge, but Doss vehemently fought the move, saying he really did want to serve his country, he just didnt want to kill. He remained in the Army to the great displeasure of most of his officers and fellow soldiers.
By now, his fellow soldiers were used to his reading the Bible and praying, so it didnt seem unusual when, on that April 29th morning in 1945, he suggested that they might want to pray. They were facing a sheer 400-foot cliff that split the island of Okinawa known as the Maeda Escarpment. It would be necessary to attack and capture this area. The men of Company B bowed their heads as Doss offered a prayer for safety. Then they began to struggle up the sheer cliff face.
His unit captured the 400-foot Maeda Escarpment in an incredible sweep in which not one man was killed and only one minor injury was sustained. When a photographer arrived to capture the moment and asked how they pulled it off, Doss' company commander answered, "Doss prayed!"
However on May 5th the tide turned against the Americans as the Japanese launched a huge counterattack. Enemy fire raked Company B and almost immediately 75 men fell wounded. The remaining troops who were able to flee, retreated back down to the base of the escarpment. Left at the top of the cliff were the wounded, the Japanese, and Desmond T. Doss.
For the next five hours, while his wounded comrades fought back their attackers, Doss began to lower man after man to safety down the face of the cliff using little more than a tree stump and a rope. Doss said that he just kept praying that the Lord would let him rescue one more man. No one knows for sure how many men Doss lowered to safety that day. The Army determined that this medic, whom no one had wanted in the Army, had personally saved 100 lives. Doss humbly said it couldnt have been more than 50. Because of Doss humble estimate, when the citation for his Medal of Honor was written, they split the difference and he was credited with saving the lives of 75 of his fellow soldiers.
On May 21st, the Americans again were under fire while Doss remained in the open to help a wounded soldier. He and three other soldiers had crawled into a hole to wait for the cover of darkness to escape when a grenade was thrown into their hole. The other three men jumped out to safety but the grenade blew up just as Doss stepped on it. Somehow he miraculously did not lose his leg but he sustained many wounds. He didnt want to endanger anyone else so he bandaged his own wounds and waited the five hours until daylight for help to arrive.
As he was being carried off the field they passed another critically wounded soldier. Doss rolled off the litter and told the medics to take the other man. He joined another wounded soldier and together they started to hobble off while supporting each other. Doss had his arm across the other mans neck when he felt a bullet slam into his arm. It shattered Doss upper arm, which in turn, saved the other mans life.
On October 12, 1945, Desmond Doss, was invited to the White House to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor from President Harry S. Truman for his brave service on May 5, 1945 - the first noncombatant to ever receive the Congressional Medal of Honor. He would spend a total of six years in hospitals as a consequence of his wounds and a bout with tuberculosis.
Tom Bennett
The Vietnam War presented many young men with a moral dilemma as they became subject to the draft in the late 1960s. These were men whose deep-seated religious convictions held that killing was wrong, even in war. At the same time, a number of them also possessed a strong sense of patriotism and felt that service to one's country was a vital duty. One youngster torn by those conflicting values was Thomas W. Bennett of Morgantown, West Virginia.
But Bennett was torn by other allegiances. His stepfather, Kermit Gray, a World War II Navy veteran, had raised him to believe in patriotism and to be ready to fight for his country if necessary. By late 1967 a number of young Bennett's friends had already entered the service. Several had gone to Vietnam, and one buddy from childhood, David Kovac, had been killed in action with the Marines. Bennett didn't want to dishonor Kovac's sacrifice by refusing to serve or by fleeing to Canada. But he didn't think he could be faithful to his religious beliefs if he went to war and was forced to kill. He wrestled with his dilemma, seeking the advice of friends, his minister and counselors.
That 1967 fall semester grade report forced Bennett to make up his mind. Once he lost his student deferment, he would become eligible for the draft. He thought he then would have only three choices: serve, leave the country, or declare himself a conscientious objector and refuse induction. But from the campus draft counselors he learned of a fourth choice: he could apply to be classified as a conscientious objector who was willing to serve. He did so, and on May 2, 1968, his request was granted. He would be trained as a medic.
In his letters home from Texas, Bennett expressed his frustrations over the continuing war in Vietnam. On October 12, 1968, while in medical training, he wrote his family, "That's what I might like to do -- gain the ability to save lives -- in hopes they might learn to live in peace."
On February 9, the fourth day of inching downhill, Bravo Company suddenly halted when an intense blast of AK-47 fire echoed through the jungle. A sister company, Delta, moving on Bravo's left flank, had walked into an ambush. Bennett's platoon was ordered to attack toward Delta, a maneuver designed to hit the enemy from the rear.
The platoon hadn't even moved 100 meters when it, too, was ambushed. The three lead men went down in the opening spray of enemy fire. Everyone else dived for cover -- except Tom Bennett. Perhaps it was because this was his first firefight. Maybe he didn't really understand the danger. More likely, he just wanted to help his injured buddies.
Ignoring the near-constant fire, Bennett snaked his way forward. Completely oblivious to the enemy rounds snapping through the jungle all around him, Bennett gave lifesaving first aid to the three wounded men. Then he boldly carried each casualty to a defiladed position of relative safety.
As the firefight continued, the young medic dashed back and forth across the battlefield. Whenever there was a cry for help, he was there, patching up a wound, offering words of comfort. At least twice more he ventured into the open to pull a casualty to safety. Bennett's gallant conduct inspired all around him.
As dawn broke on February 11, enemy snipers took potshots at the embattled members of Bravo Company. Several more grunts fell, and Bennett instantly moved to their aid. Sergeant McBee warned him repeatedly to be careful.
A recently arrived private -- so new to the platoon that no one even knew his name -- suddenly cried out. He'd been hit by a sniper's round. He lay about 30 feet from Bennett. As Bennett looked toward the casualty, McBee grabbed him. "Don't go out there! He's gone," the sergeant warned.
Bennett shrugged him off. Without a word he jumped up, intent only on saving the wounded man. A flurry of rifle shots rang out. Bennett fell, his young body riddled with bullets.
On April 7, 1970, Tom Bennett's 23rd birthday, President Richard M. Nixon presented his posthumous Medal of Honor to his mother and stepfather. When first notified of the award, Bennett's mother had considered refusing it, her way of protesting the war and the senseless loss of her son. But then her husband spoke up, "No. It was the boys in his outfit that put him in for it. They wanted him to have it."
Thus Thomas W. Bennett became the only conscientious objector to earn the Medal of Honor in the Vietnam War, and only the second in history to be so recognized.