When I was Drafted
When I was DraftedIn 1964 when I failed out of college I received a draft card with the status code of “S2A”. When I called, I found out that I was 1-A and that I would be getting my induction notice soon. No appeal, no nothing. Wait for the notice. I did. This seemed unfair to me. At the time I was a total pacifist but did not need to claim this while a student. I did not know I was a pacifist. I did know that it was outside my domain to hurt another human being. My relationship with God forbad that. Taking life is restricted to God Himself.
So I get my notice, pick up papers form doctors, and show up for the pre-induction physical. 500+ people showed up that day. We were given bus transportation to and from. It would take a half-day. The buses home left at noon.
We first sat in a room while the rules were explained. We would be given various exams. We would be given various papers. We could question exams. We needed to sign the papers. We could exercise our right to read the paper. We could exercise our right to understand the paper. Exercising these rights would take time. If we took this time, we would miss our ride home.
We were broken into smaller groups so that all of the exam stations could be simultaneously filled.
I was the only one to fail that day. Some may have failed later when their results were evaluated but I was the only one who walked out of there knowing that he was free. That was real work. After being lectured, pushed, prodded, poked, and looked at in places that I cannot see, I was told that I would be in the 101st Airborne Division. I protested. We were told that we could read everything before signing. We were told that a doctor would examine us. We were told that if we did that we would be too late to ride the bus. We were told we could object but objecting to a drill sergeant immediately puts your life at risk. I objected. I pointed out that I had seen no doctor and no one had read my documents. I was told that I could wait three hours on the fourth floor for such an interview but getting home was up to me. I was downtown Milwaukee. Getting home was just taking the 30-bus to Burleigh and taking the 60-bus home.
I sat in a metal chair for 3 hours. No lunch. Finally, I was called into an office for my interview. The man listened to my arguments and signed the papers. We need to get one thing straight here. So many people had claimed to be conscientious objectors that the draft had set up some serious constraints. You had to have religious documentation for your beliefs and be able to demonstrate that these texts were critical to you. If you followed the rules, you knew the verses from Daniel and others. I did not have these beliefs. I did not have any Bible texts. I just believe that God does not want me to take another person’s life.
I walked out and started down the four flights of stairs. I quickly found his scribble about 20 pages down: “Unacceptable”. One word. I exploded down the stairs and knocked a full bird colonel down to the next landing. I apologized and continued taking the stairs one landing at a time. I got to the front desk and gave the guy my papers. I thought I was done. Not a chance. After convincing the fellow that I was told to give him the papers and not turn them into the third floor, he gave me another paper to sign. I really could not convince him but he did get his boss/officer to handle the situation. I was the only failure that they could remember. I had to sign a form committing myself to a Federal Rehabilitation Center. I would not go home. I pretended to not understand the paper. That was the one excuse we had to not sign without criminal action. I insisted I did not understand until they gave up and sent me to another little office. There man in here worked for the State of Wisconsin. He was lonely. He told me that it was rare that anyone got past the bulldogs. He explained that so many people had failed the physical that there must be something wrong. So everybody got sent to rehabilitation. It did not even state what rehabilitation I needed.
He showed me the way out. Sign one paper that would go into my federal folder stating that I had accepted referral to the State. I signed another paper, put in my State folder, indicating that I had refused their services. Then I go home and write the whole thing off as a bad experience.
Later, when I had a family, I understood the need for self-defense and defense of one’s country.