Rebirth of a Realist

Rebirth of a Realist
excerpt from the book GOD GO WITH THEM
Part of a discussion about the military draft in 1965 taking place in a seminary someplace in Connecticut.
Wait a minute, Howard said. “Why are we spending so much
time talking about Canada? We agreed that we wouldn’t waste a lot of time talking about the war or the politics of the war because we all agree on that, so the way Cathy and I saw this thing tonight was to move in to much more personal problems with our commitment. I would like to touch again on the subject of parents because I did not agree with Wilfred. I think that most parents do make great sacrifices for their children and do deserve to be considered. I’m not saying that they should keep you from making your own decisions. I am saying that you should do your utmost to include them. I know that Wilfred’s folks do not oppose what he is doing. They are just as much against this war as he is, but he doesn’t give them credit for being revolutionaries like he sees himself right now. When they moved to the suburbs it took great courage, and your Dad did see himself as a revolutionary . . .. When Richard’s father fought the war to end wars, he thought that he also fighting to end fascism, racism, anti Semitism, and oppression. He was ready to give his life for equal justice. That’s what he thought he was doing and all you have to do is peel back the bark and talk to that man. You will be surprised.”
Three people began to talk at once, but Marks voice carried over them. “That’s a misconception that you have. That’s what you want to believe so you can rationalize your own participation in the war and still glory in it. You have been cleansed and now you are official, ‘Man.’ Nobody can point his finger at you and say, Queer, coward, son-of-a-bitch. No not to you. That’s why most men went in so willingly and that’s why we still have wars. Hell, if they could only think of a way to get rid of the atom bomb we would have another beautiful world war by now. That’s what happened to Larry. He just didn’t want to hear, queer, coward, son-of-a-bitch so he went in. I guess I’m trying to find the same thing that Doctor King was reaching for. He had a hell of a time trying to convince young Blacks that non-violence was manly. How do you make non-violence manly so it is palatable to adults who grew up in a, John Wayne, unreal world?”
The squeaking of Wilfred’s chair was caused by his rocking and bobbing of his head “Right, man. I want to see any of you come down to the north end and try to sell pacifism. They will tell you that the man’s billy club isn’t very passive. I don’t think Doctor King could do it. He had a tough time trying it in Chicago.”
“I must admit that this isn’t going the way I had hoped,” Cathy said. “I was born into Quakerism. I know that most Quakers wouldn’t like to hear the ism I put on it, but non-violence is as natural to me as walking. I never think of any of the male members of the Meeting as being unmanly. OK, maybe I do know a few, but…” She paused and grimaced at her own remark. “Sorry. Anyway, is machismo really the key? Do we have to address that before we can speak to the more important issue of tactics? We can waste a lot of time talking about international economics which is always the cause of wars, and we can talk about greed, and Manhood, but we are here this week end to speak to our own personal situations.”
“Wait,” Ritchy interrupted. “I don’t like what Mark did. He attacked somebody and we’re not here to do that. I know that Mr. Weinbaum never criticizes anyone’s motives and I don’t think that it’s fair for anyone to think that he is capable of placing himself in Howie’s shoes when he was seventeen in the forties. I don’t condemn my father for going into the service after Pearl Harbor. I think I would like to stop the analyzing of parents. I must face Richard Simon now. So let’s not attack anyone else. Let’s get on with solving our own problems.”
Mark stood up and faced the group. “I apologize if anyone thought that I was being personal. I didn’t mean it that way. I was referring to many people Howard’s age, not him in particular.”
“Listen,” Cathy said. “We all agreed that there shouldn’t be a chairman or an agenda for this evening and I do not want to appear to be structuring the program, but I would like to stay with tactics for a while. I know that it is easy for me to say because I am not facing the problem, but then again, I can be more objective. I would like to say that more parents, those with sons in and out of the service, would be helped if we put our motivations out front. We are not trying to save ourselves; we are trying to save your sons. I want to issue a joint news release saying just that after this conference is over. Our own personal love for our parents isn’t really relevant here tonight.”
Mat Clark stretched his long legs out in front of him and stared at his sneakers. “Cathy,” he said. “Love is always relevant to any discussion about ending the war, but I agree that we are not babies and all this discussion about parents might give others that impression. I would also like to bring us back to tactics. I have been fighting this battle with myself for months now and it seems I change my mind at least once a week . . . Yesterday, I knew that I made the right decision to stay out, but again I wasn’t sure about how I wanted to stay out. I went to the David Mitchell trial and I almost lost control. When that judge said something about David being an atheist therefore he could not be a C.O. I thought I was going to get sick. I started to sweat because I was fighting back the impulse to shout,’ You dumb, son-of-a-bitch, he never claimed to be a C.O. That’s what scares me. I got the same feeling at my Board hearing. At times I couldn’t even answer their questions. I was so angry and afraid that I would blow my top that I just sat there sweating. I am beginning to feel that it’s wrong to let those bastards have any say over your life at all. They’re not qualified to do it. They’re just political appointees, including, the Judge, and they really don’t know what the hell is going on in the real world.”
“Mat,” Howard smiled. “Anyone who has ever been before a judge on any charge can raise the question about who is qualified to sit in judgment.”
Richard Simon pointed his finger at Howard. “Yes, but I saw your reaction when the Judge told David Mitchell that he couldn’t claim to be more moral than the rest of us because his investigators reported that David was living in sin with some woman. How would you like to put your life before a judge that equates making love with murder and does it from the bench?”
Glancing up toward the back of the room Howard picked out the man he suspected of being the infiltrator, or FBI informer. He knew that there was, at least, one there. “For those of you who did not attend the trial and are not familiar with the David Mitchell presentation, he based his objection on the precedent set by Justice Jackson at the Nuremberg War crime Tribunal. David is Twenty-three years old and he is from Connecticut. For years now he has refused to register for the draft. He gives as his reason, that Justice Jackson set the precedent of individual guilt at Nuremberg. He ruled that those accused of Nazi war crimes could not plead that Hitler, or their superiors made them do it. He said that somewhere along the line a man has to make his own moral decisions. David is saying that he is making his decision now and will not participate in any way with the atrocities that America is committing in Vietnam. He has already been convicted once and this is a re-trial. The government was avoiding a confrontation with him because they can not respond without giving him a chance to prove the atrocities are being committed, which David and his Lawyer, Mark Lane, are fully prepared to do. The Prosecutor kept the trial within the narrow scope that David broke the law by not registering. He kept telling the court that none of the other issues were relevant. How could they not be relevant?” Howard asked smiling at Mary Dombrowski.
“So tell them what happened,” Kieth said, shaking his head from side to side and exhaling with a loud whoosh.
“He was found guilty,” Howard answered. “That put the entire exercise into a sort of surrealistic haze. You see David didn’t come there to be tried. He came to try the government.”
Mat pulled his sneakers back under his chair and turned to look at the others in the room. “That’s what I was talking about. Mr. Weinbaum wants me to go to court in front of a judge like that and present Mat Clark. I don’t understand what that will accomplish. There is no way that damned judge is going to let me explain my case to a jury, nor is there any way that he can understand what I am talking about. If I can not convince my father, how the hell am I going to convince that political appointee of anything? He is there because his political party favored him. I might as well take my case to Cardinal Spellman, or Dean Rusk, or McNamara. What’s the purpose?”
“I think,” Howard answered with a deep sigh. “That the David Mitchell presentation is one of the most important anti-war efforts that has been tried in a long time. It is honest, and ties the past with the present. I think it has been a great help to many of his peers who feel they can not make a strictly religious appeal. He has not only helped them in articulating their presentations but has given many the courage to bring them before the courts.”
“Oh shit, man. Pardon my language. I forgot where I was, but I can’t agree with what you are saying. Do you think anyone is going to be tried for war crimes committed in Vietnam? I mean any of the generals or high-ranking officers. Hell no, they wont. Maybe some of the soldiers that are driven off the deep end might, but not any of those really responsible. The only persons the David Mitchell case is important to is the judge and prosecutor who are scoring career points.” Wilfred paused and stuck his pinkie finger in his Afro hair do. “Look here,” He added, his voice muffled as he bent to slide a book from under his chair and extract a folded newspaper. “ I brought it along because I knew this subject would come up. Look here,” he repeated holding up the paper for all to see. “This here is America. The Hartford Times has a big picture on the front page of these nice, clean-cut, white, shorthaired kids. Under it there is some shit about trophies being awarded to the best junior achievement salesman by the marketing executives in the area. Under that story there is a little blurb about David Mitchell, ‘The draft dodger’, who is going to jail. Now we all know that David didn’t dodge anything. The government did the dodging. The way I figure it, in less than a year these clean-cut kids are going to be on their way to college and they’ll have that picture in a frame or in their scrapbook. If you ask them who the hell David Mitchell is, they won’t know or care. Why should they? Nor will most people in the country know. David’s ass will be sitting in jail and those kids will be screwing in some Co-ed dorm. It just doesn’t make sense to give the man a club and tell him to go ahead and beat you with it and hope that he gets a heart attack doing it. No sir, that just doesn’t make any sense to me at all.”
Two voices were heard at the same time, but again Mark Edwards prevailed, his low voice causing Nancy to lift her head and look directly at him. “Then, as I understand it, Howie, The feds can ask him to register again when he gets out and if he refuses he can be tried again. Is that true?”
“Yeah,” Wilfred said. “That’s just what I was going to ask.”
“They can do it, and they have done that, but that is still no reason to quit trying. I keep saying over and over that each case is a step forward.”
“I’m afraid that I have a great deal of trouble with that,” Mark said, his eyes bouncing from Mat’s to Ritchy’s and back again. I see each conviction as a loss, a step backward. I’m beginning to see that objectors who take their case to a Board or a court are doing what Wilfred said, ‘just feeding the opponent’s ego.”