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To Go or Not to Go

 If you look at the official state of the relations that the US has with the country of Vietnam, the State Department says,

The United States supports a strong, prosperous, independent, and resilient Vietnam that contributes to regional and international security; engages in mutually beneficial trade relations; respects human rights and the rule of law; and is resilient in the face of climate and energy-related challenges.

The United States and Vietnam are trusted partners with a friendship grounded in mutual respect that has developed since the normalization of diplomatic relations in 1995.

This rosy outlook despite the brutal history of the US involvement in the Vietnam War from about 1963-73.  I wonder how many of the 58,000 American dead, and 3.8 million Vietnamese dead could have imagined it would be so peaceful 60 years later?  How would they respond to the fact that the US and Vietnam are such good trading partners.  That the two cultures are inexorably intertwined now, there is no doubt.  Entire cities have Vietnamese sectors, and Vietnamese names are ever-present from school attendance sheets to nightly news reporters.  

Americans now vacation in Vietnam, but there was a time when nobody wanted to go there.  In fact, some folks would make life changing decisions about going there.  Some would take drastic steps, some would go and never return, or if they did return it was in a pine box.    

Those that were too young to remember how it was when our nation was drafting thousands of young men to fight this unpopular war easily use the term "draft dodger."  True, there were those that did dodge, by either paying off someone, faking an illness or simply having "connections" with their local draft board.  The wealthy, as always found ways to avoid being drafted.  The entire history of conscription in American history shows this.  There was abundant folklore that centered on ways a young man might be able to get a 4-F deferment by being medically disqualified.  But there were others, like myself, who in good conscience could not fight that war.  We were not dodging the draft, we were resisting it.  It was a decision with serious consequences, often made after considerable soul searching.  But, in the end, we chose to meet this existential crisis head on, fully mindful of the consequences.  

By the time I went through my college deferment years and asking for an occupational deferment while serving as a VISTA Volunteer (Domestic Peace Corps, now known as Americorps) I was reclassified 1-A, meaning ready to be drafted.  I had requested a deferment as a conscientious objector but was not granted that status by my board.  Even the letters of support from employers, Military men, and my father did not sway that small panel that needed to fill quotas of draftees.  No matter, I was set for the dreaded draft physical exam.



Even though my draft board was in Los Angeles, I was living in the Bay Area and instructed to report to the Oakland Induction Center.  Yes, that Oakland Induction Center, infamous for the many demonstrations, arrests, and the scene of violent clashes between police and war resistors.  It's easy to find all manner of documentation about the activities of anti-war demonstrators in Oakland.  But having had a physical exam there in 1970, I want to take ou inside that center,  Here's the way I remember my time there.  

We were ushered into a room and answered a roll call.  From there we proceeded from station to station for various  parts of the physical exam.  Vital signs taken we dutifully marched through various rooms for blood samples, inspections of teeth, various body parts and sight and hearing. I recall a young man who hadn't eaten for over a week.  He thought he could fast his way out of passing the physical.  He was emaciated, weak, and looked like he was about to faint any moment.  He quickly was pulled out of line and sent home.  On his way out he bummed some change from another guy in order to buy a soda from a vending machine.  He could barely lift his arms to put a coin in the slot.  The time came for one of the most dreaded parts of the exam.  Most of the time we were in our underwear.  In a large room we were lined up horizontally and told to drop our underwear and "spread em" This was the anal exam.  Not sure what they were looking for, but a doctor would go down the line  and look and/or prod.  One popular method of instantly failing the exam was to apply crunch peanut butter to the area in advance.  Then when the doctor was near, reach in and grab a handful and stick itAnother popular  in your mouth.  Nobody did it that day.  Another popular piece of folklore was two declare that you were gay.  In some parts of the country, especially where homosexuality was still considered abnormal behavior this still worked.  A friend of mine from Georgia successfully used that ploy.  In California, the Sargent just laughed and said, "Oh good, then you"ll love the Army.

In the cluster of young men I was with, there was a Hare Krishna believer.  They were all over Berkeley and Oakland, so it was not unusual to see one here.  He was dressed in the usual Saffron robes, but when he was instructed to remove them, underneath he wore only a small saffron colored g-string.  A mystery no more.



By the time we got to the hearing exam, I was tempted to mess with my responses.  Wearing earphones, we were instructed to raise our hands when we heard a high pitched sound.  I purposely delayed my response a few times, but it made no difference.

After all of the physical stations were finished, we marched into a classroom -like place for the mental test.  It was remarkably easy featuring questions like "Which doesn't belong?" There would be 4 pictures, a hammer, a saw, a drill, and a duck.  You get the picture.  While filling out the test form the officer in charge treated us like imbeciles.  He told us how to fill out the information section with comments like I assume you know how to spell your name.  In a blank box marked Location he told us to write Oakland.  Speaking very slowly he reiterated, "that is not OAK-LUND.  

Throughout this ridiculous test there was chatter from a group of guys sitting in the last row in the back of the room. They all knew each other and were rumored to be members of the Cal football team.  When the written test ended, we sat for about 30 minutes and then the officer returned.  "Listen for you name," he said.  There were about 45 young men in the room.  He read off about 35 names.  

"If I called your name, you are finished and may go home now.  If not, take a 30 min. lunch break and please return at 1:00pm and you will take another mental test.  It will last approximately two hours."  

The back row wasn't chattering any more.  

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