In case it hasn
’t come out already, I’m pretty much a dissenter pacifist and
strongly opposed to use of U.S. troops in combat overseas.
In case it hasn’t come out already, I’m pretty much a dissenter pacifist and strongly opposed to use of U.S. troops in combat overseas. Our family line in this country is not long, but each generation is filled with men who’ve served, and still do, in our armed forces. I hate war and the conditions that precipitate it. But, every year, I observe Veterans’ Day and Memorial Day without fail.
My grandfather came to this country from Italy. He enlisted in the U.S. Army in World War I. Our large family gatherings always included a toast that ended with “… and God Bless America!”
My father was drafted and served two years in Korea. He carried around with him scars on his legs and shrapnel in his face, and somewhere stowed away was a Purple Heart for those injuries I recall seeing only once.
My dad never bemoaned having been sent to Korea. In fact, he was really proud of this period of his life. He never told stories of combat. Instead, he had all kinds of funny anecdotes. Recalling interactions and events like punchlines to jokes, he always laughed first before recounting a story of buddies who got thumbs stuck in rifles and the guys sent to KP for not being able to keep a straight face in formation.
And of course, there were all the funky things he was able to do as a supply sergeant. (It’s funny. He was always so exasperated by my penchant for bending rules, never quite making the connection how I could have come by it).
During the Vietnam War, we kids came home with requests from our teachers, Cub Scout and Campfire Girl leaders for supplies to send to the “boys overseas.” My mom always had us provide a deck of cards, and pairs of socks. “Dry socks, always dry socks. That’s what they need most.”
I was too young to really understand the divisiveness of Vietnam, but I still recall the night my mother and my father were yelling, not exactly at each other, but just in the excited way their people do when discussing a topic that elicits some passion. My cousin, of draft age, was considering going to Canada, and they were outraged. Had he done so, I know that we would not have had any more contact with that part of the family.
The spot has been developed since then, but I still see the spot on Highway 152, going east, just past the old Sunsweet Company and the railroad tracks, where we stopped to pick up a hitchhiking young Marine. I had to give up my seat and get in the “way back” of the station wagon with the littler kids. After some polite chat, the Marine fell asleep and I spent the rest of the ride with his head against my back. Later, when asked why, at a time when motorists were being discouraged from picking up hitchhikers, he picked up the stranger, my dad answered, “we’ll always help a soldier who’s trying to get home.”
I asked my dad on several occasions over the years why he went to Korea, and he always said the same thing: “My country called, so I went.” There was never more to his answer than that. There was never consideration of why he was asked, why he and others were sent, just that he was needed.
My young cousin, who served in Search and Rescue in the Air Force, was killed in the terrorist bombing in Saudi Arabia in 1996. He is buried at the San Joaquín National Cemetery at the foot of my father. My brother is still a career Navy officer. One of my best friends from high school captains a nuclear submarine. Although they, and the rest of our armed forces personnel, some of whom are from our part of paradise here, have not been called, they continue to serve.
It is hard for some to understand my position. I come from a line of people and am associated with others who are proud to serve, and I will always be grateful for their personal sacrifices and those of their families. However, I will continue my dissent to war, and to deployment in combat overseas. Not because I don’t support the troops, but because I value them.
In the meantime, until they come home, I will always make it to Veterans’ Day and Memorial Day and be sure to send loads of dry socks.
