It was a stressful evening sitting in front of the television set on August 5, 1971 with my parents, brother, and sister. It was very quiet and the mood was somber, as my family worried about my fate. The horrible program looked more like a bingo game show than what it actually was; a possible two year sentence of slavery to the state during the Vietnam War. If chosen in this lottery, I was to be drafted into the Army. Irony at this dark level is like a macabre nightmare, especially for the young and naïve.
If my number were drawn early, I would be ordered to report for “duty” the following spring. We were huddled together with fingers crossed, anxious in hopes of being there until late in the night, but unfortunately we did not have to wait long. My number was drawn 2nd, and then there was silence.
The next few months were wrought with worry as a decision had to be made about my impending incarceration. My father told me at the outset that I should do what I felt was right, and live with my decision. He was very wise and always supportive, and this helped me gain confidence and courage.
War is a Racket: The A…
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Mine is not a story of war and killing, or of valor in the face of great danger, it is one of personal rebellion. As I saw it at the time, I had three choices. I could go to Canada to escape the draft, I could simply refuse to go at all and face prison, or I could go into the Army and wreak as much havoc as possible. I had no money, contacts, or job in Canada, and prison for me was out of the question. So I chose to go into the Army, but with an attitude of complete indignation.
I did not waste any time. Within the first few…