Attaboy

I was looking over the bit I wrote about Brian Wilson on Saturday when I realized that I repeatedly made a serious math error. I mentioned, in numerous places, that it had been 26 years since SMiLE had been recorded. In fact, I was off by a decade and had to make some fast corrections. That led me to one of those “Gawd-has-it-been-that-many-years?” moments that occur frequently once someone reaches beyond age 40 and (like me) perilously close to 50.

That led me to think about that period of time, which led me to think about what other cultural changes we experienced back then, which led me to recall the concern in America over Vietnam…which brought me back to George Bush and John Kerry and the recent controversies over military service.

In all the silliness in questioning George Bush’s National Guard service, there are a couple of things that many people (especially those born since 1980 who have no memory of that era) conveniently forget about the whole Vietnam period.

First, let’s get something on the table right now: John Kerry’s service in Vietnam and his actions were deserving of the accolades he eventually received, at least according to the Navy. Whatever his actions were in the time following his return, one cannot ignore the fact that he received multiple decorations for heroism during his brief tour in country with the Navy.

Let’s get another thing straight: there was nothing wrong with the fact the George W. Bush served in the National Guard during this same period. No, Mr. Bush didn’t see action, and wasn’t decorated for bravery like Mr. Kerry. But, recent implications by some of Mr. Kerry’s fellow Democrats that Mr. Bush’s service was some incomplete scam to avoid duty in Vietnam is laughable. The simple fact is this: nobody wanted to go to Vietnam.

I was born in 1955, which meant that I would have been a little too young to be eligible to serve in Vietnam during the bulk of the conflict. For the sake of this discussion, let’s agree that the major American involvement of the war started in 1964, after the Gulf of Tonkin event. (If you want to follow along, there’s a very concise timeline of the Vietnam conflict located here). Like many others my age, (10 years old in 1964 to 20 years old in 1975), I have a vivid recollection of that era, of the nightly televised horrors of the war, of the political price paid by Lyndon Johnson, of the protests and riots, of Kent State, of the failed attempts at peace talks, of the American withdrawl. I remember the military draft in use at the time, and my father once commenting to me (when I was approaching 17 and the end wasn’t yet in sight) that if I were ever drafted, I should enlist in the Navy, as he did in World War II. This was, though I didn’t realize it at the time, his way of making sure I didn’t become an infantryman, a group which took the brunt of casualties during the conflict. Oddly, I recall thinking that I had no intention of going anywhere near the military, not because I was afraid or because I didn’t like the military, but because, like most kids my age, I was swept up in the cultural attitudes of the day, which included draft card burning and marching. No, I didn’t march, and I really didn’t understand why military men returning from the war were treated as badly as they were. They were doing their duty and weren’t to blame for the troubles the U.S. was having over there. And I didn’t have a draft card to burn yet, either.

In fact, I had no intention of doing such a thing and actually wanted to get one. Back then, you could legally drink at 18 (though many of us had started a lot sooner), but you were prone to be the victim of “double-proofing” when you tried to enter one of the area’s popular bars or clubs. Double-proof meant that you needed at least two forms of legitimate evidence of age to get into our favorite eastern Long Island hotspots like the OBI North and Tuey’s. This requirement was also normally reserved mostly for young guys, since the clubs wanted as many girls in the place as possible, mostly to attract the guys. Most had a driver’s license, but no one wanted to carry a copy of a birth certificate around with them. So, the best available alternative form of ID was a draft card. Draft cards were also unquestionable, since false ID technology was pretty primitive back then, and they were hard to fake. Naturally, getting a draft card required you to register for the draft, which was the law back then as it is now.

Now you have to remember that this was at the tail end of one of the most tumultuous periods of American history. Men not only burned their draft cards, they fled the country to avoid having to go into military service. But I wasn’t concerned at that point. In 1973, the American military already severely reduced its presence in country (from over 150,000 in 1971 to under 25,000 in 1972), and the last of the draft lotteries was held later in late 1972. I received the standard 1-H classification because I was still in high school. But, I recall that I couldn’t get down to the draft board office fast enough (along with my classmate Michael Glennon, with whom I had attended school since first grade) just because I wanted that additional proof of age, legal requirements notwithstanding.

The fact is that there were a number of ways one could legally avoid military service and receive a draft classification that would have kept them from harm’s way. Another fact is that the majority of American men of service age never went to Vietnam or served a day in the military. All one has to do is look at the classifications placed on service-age men at the time. One could claim conscientious objector status, which required some other form of non-combatant service. Many who fled the draft refused even that classification, as their philosophical beliefs wouldn’t allow them any connection to military service or the war. There were certain hardship classes, and just attending college could delay your induction for a period of time. And there were medical reasons, too, though it appeared that some of the medical excuses were somewhat less serious then the kind issued in World War II.

Finally, if all else failed, you could flee, which thousands of men did during the period (I have seen numbers ranging from 50,000 to over 85,000), mostly to Canada, which was conveniently close to home and politically friendly to their cause.

You could also do what George Bush did and what many other men did who didn’t wish to enter the military. Joining the National Guard was seen by many at the time as a way to avoid other service requirements. Joining the Guard allowed you to attend basic training programs, be trained in some specific military skill (in Bush’s case, flying fighter jets) and relieved you of any draft obligation. There is lots of evidence that many young men used Guard service specifically for draft avoidance, and years later, lots of people apparently recall that the Guard was a taken as a bit of a joke for that reason. This somewhat smarmy article in Slate examines some of the alleged holes in the President’s service, and even discusses WaPo columnist Richard Cohen’s confession that he joined the Guard to avoid Vietnam, then failed to make most of his required drills. Mr. Cohen’s confession reveals an interesting side to this dispute. You see, if you’re a liberal-leaning writer for a major newspaper, you can admit to such activity, and no one cares. Same can be said for former presidents who write disparaging letters to ROTC officers (more about that in a minute). But, if you happen to be the (conservative/Republican) president, you have to meet a very different standard.

Now, here’s where many part company with those calling Bush a “draft dodger.” The simple fact is that nobody wanted to be drafted because nobody wanted to wind up in Vietnam, especially in the infantry. Americans of the day, both pro- and anti-military figured out pretty early on that we were in a battle in which we should have never become involved. Years after the war, many even questioned the veracity of the incident that pulled us into the war, the attack on Navy cruisers in the Gulf of Tonkin. Many believe, years after the fact, that Lyndon Johnson exaggerated the event to force Congress to permit military action in the region. Whether or not this was the case, the conduct of the war from the time major forces put their boots on the ground was seen as troublesome. History hasn’t been kind to Johnson, his military administration, and the decisions to try to micro-manage the war from Washington, rather then allowing the leadership on scene to fight the war in a proper fashion. The Americans were not only in a foreign environment; they were in a country where the battle was conducted in a fashion to which they were unaccustomed. The American military had scant experience in the jungle battles that took place in that nation, and the enemy used it to their advantage.

The purpose of the war caused problems at home as well. For the first time, American’s found it difficult to justify the reasons for fighting. The prevailing fear was the “domino theory,” that allowing a Communist power to take over that nation would eventually cause other nations in the region to fall. Such a scenario was unacceptable in an time when the threat of the old U.S.S.R. reaching its tentacles outside of Russia was very real. After all, we had seen Cuba fall just 90 miles from our shores, hadn’t we? We had prevailing interests in Southeast Asia as well, and the fear was that if South Vietnam succumbed, what was to stop them from spreading to other nations in the region?

In retrospect, even those backing the military could see little benefit in protecting this little nation, especially at the expense of our men and women, and especially after it became apparent that the South Vietnamese army was going to let the Americans take the brunt of the battle and, subsequently, the casualties. The benefit to our national interests in “saving” South Vietnam became less and less clear as the war dragged on. So, who could blame anyone at that stage to doing all they could to avoid having to go over there? The natural tendency of people is to move towards survival and away from threats, and being drafted into the Army and trained to be in an infantry outfit was seen as a threat to your life, especially since you knew you’d probably wind up over there. And for what?

What we come down to is two young men who took different roads. Mr. Kerry might have had the same opportunities to “avoid” going to Vietnam as anyone else. In fact, Mr. Kerry did something a lot of young men did to “avoid” winding up in some infantry outfit: he joined the Navy. My guess is that many who did this did so because they believed (as my father did) that they’d have a better chance of winding up on a carrier or other ship, where their chances of mortality or injury were greatly reduced. Unfortunately, it didn’t always work out that way; some wound up on patrol boats, close to the battle and as susceptible to seeing action as most foot soldiers. Nevertheless, circumstances being what they were, Mr. Kerry ended up on one of those boats, saw action, acted as a military man should, and was recognized for his action.

Mr. Bush made a different choice. The National Guard was a “safer” way to do service and avoid the war, but there was no guarantee of that either; about 8,000 Guard members served in country during the period, and some were even killed in action. So, though the probabilities of experiencing battle were smaller, the Guard was no guarantee of safety, either. Despite that, Mr. Bush did his required flight training, performed his required drills (or most of them, depending on who you believe) and satisfied the organization that he completed his service. Bad record keeping notwithstanding, he did what he was required to do to the satisfaction of the people who managed that program.

One other important thing needs to be taken into account regarding Mr. Bush’s Guard duty. Look at the timeline of his service provided in the Slate article and compare it with the troop level numbers here. One can’t avoid thinking that during that period of “questions” regarding Mr. Bush’s service, the numbers of military serving in Vietnam was dramatically lower than previous years, so the likelihood of Mr. Bush going over there and seeing action at that time were drastically lower anyway. This is not to suggest that anyone looked at the numbers as saw this as a way to avoid service; it was simply what was happening at the time, which was a major drawdown in military support in the region. Mr. Bush was, if anything, simply in the right place at the right time.

The point of all this is that George W. Bush didn’t do anything out of the ordinary during the Vietnam era. Lots of people on my side of the political aisle use the comparison to Bill Clinton as a lynchpin in the argument that Bush didn’t “dodge” the draft. The major difference is that Clinton was pretty open about his disdain for the military, as is evidence by his famous “loathe the military” letter to Col. Holmes. Yet, Mr. Clinton enjoyed eight years in power over that military force, and his supporters are quick to come up with multiple excuses for his particular attitudes, most of which include the words ” that was the attitude of the times.” And so it is with Mr. Bush and the rest of my generation who would have had to make a decision when faced with that situation. I have a very strong feeling that both Mr. Bush and Mr. Kerry, if called upon by their nation in the event of a serious direct threat, perhaps some September 11-style attack, would have quickly answered the call and used those military skills to defend their nation, to the death if necessary.

Now, can we move on, please?