Bring Back the Draft

Bring Back the Draft

When the last presidential election was in progress, there was a massive bunch of signs on the corner as you would turn into the Walmart parking lot.  This was THE hub of retail activity for several rural counties here in my state.  Some of them were very big – especially the ones for presidential candidates.  Somebody drove their truck right over the Clinton sign.  Just crashed over it -  big truck tire marks squishing it into the grass (now mud). 

When I was picking it up and trying to unbend the metal stakes, and get it back to a dignified state, several locals started yelling at me.  I won’t repeat what they were yelling, but it WAS NOT nice.  Mostly these people were young men.  In one of the cars though, was a young woman who attempted to throw some kind of drink at me.  Like a “Big Gulp” or slushy thing.  She didn’t have much of an arm and timed it all wrong, so it didn’t really even get close to hitting me.  But still!  Trying to hit a bald gray bearded old man by throwing a gloopy drink at him – what kind of person does that?

To be honest, I wasn’t all that nice, or kind, in my reaction.  As I remember a well-known hand gesture was involved.  By me.  Not what someone in my demographic should do.  I was trained in combat, jungle combat, when I was drafted during the Viet Nam War, but that was like a half century ago.  I never actually got the chance to ever use that training, just the way things worked out.  But I was trained to like crush tracheas and stuff – while screaming things like “Kill! Kill!”.  Which, I never did with much enthusiasm. 

I was forced to stab shortened telephone poles covered with old truck tires.  With a bayonet attached to a rifle.  “Kill! Kill!”  I think I did about a million push-ups because my shouting was more like, “kill, um … kill?” And the Drill Sergeants didn’t think I was quite violent (?) enough.  I shot a bunch of bullets at a target.  Don’t know if I ever hit any of them, but somehow I got an “Expert Marksmanship” medal.  I’d have had to point the rifle straight up in the air to not get that “Expert Medal”, I think.

It doesn’t matter, for lots of reasons I never had to go into combat.  Part of that was because I could actually type (keyboard) well and I could read (I’m assuming).  But, as a Draftee, it’s not like I had any choices.  I was told over ‘n over, over ‘n over, over ‘n over that Draftees were the lowest form of life (in very colorful terms. Some of them involving whale shit.)  So it was not that I tried to avoid the Infantry, it was men who could type, and read, were made to do lots of paperwork that, I believe, involved sending others to shoot rifles at other people.

Anyhoo, our American Culture at the time had, had The Draft – known as the Selective Serve Act .  Historically Jefferson Davis first put the Draft in place towards the start of the Civil War.  And, about one year later, by Abraham Lincoln.    So the wartime Congressional legal precedent has been around for some time.  The point being that whenever the President chooses, he can implement this – once Congress approves it during a Declared War.  Of course now, Wikipedia says it was originally done during WW I as the National Defense Act of 1916.  This is NOT accurate because during the Civil War both sides made service in the war by every healthy available male, as it were, mandatory.  And, both sides had gangs of appointed thugs to enforce it.  (The actual historical study of this is fascinating.)

It should be noted that in the North, you could buy way out of it.  And, much of the wealthy did just that. 

As an American male, growing up in the 50’s and 60’s, the Draft was just part of life.  Everybody had to deal with it, even Elvis Presley, Mohammed Ali and lots of other famous and noted men.  My father served in WW II and was highly decorated.  His father had not served because he was a farmer, and the country and war effort needed all the farmers to farm.  But his four sons served.  So my own inculturated  soul, as it were, was just attuned to going in, if I was called.  (Which I was.)

At the time it was just the way it was.  (As I said.)  We didn’t know anything else.  Every male had to deal with it, at some time in his youth.  And, not that the Draft affected only men.  Every man originates with a birth by a woman.  Every man is some woman’s son, partner, brother, father – no man is on an island without at least one woman involved in his life somewhere.  So, it was culture wide.

For the last couple of generations, this has not been the case.  We went through the late 80’s and 90’s with no National Compulsory Service, a.k.a. Compulsory Military Conscription.  I was teaching High School at the time, so I did begin to notice a number of things. 

The American children of children who were not subject to this, the Draft, have grown into citizens who seem to truly believe they don’t owe anyone anything.  Don’t owe their parents for anything (apparently even the roof over their heads), don’t owe a respectful learning attitude to their teachers.  And, forget owing anything to the country of which they are citizens – this sense of American Freedom – is owed to them, and it is just the way it is.  And, always will be the way they have known it.  And, I say this not as a criticism – oh the kids, the youngsters of today are just spoiled, etc..)  Which I don’t think is true.

Say 200 years ago, if you didn’t know how to saddle a horse, maybe you were spoiled.  Times change.  The young of today have a ton of real challenges, just the same as their grandparents – the challenges are just different, it doesn’t make them less challenging.  Just exactly what these challenges are, we won’t know until the young become old and those that are old today will be beneath the ground.  SO … I would make a short list of what might be considered.

Examples:  When you have children, it is your obligation to raise and provide for those children.  When you own a car, it is your obligation to drive safely as you share the highways with others.  When you become an adult in a country, you have an obligation to take a few years of your life and serve to secure the benefits that, that country provides you with.  Almost all other developed nations have this requirement.