It's common for war veterans to be conflicted, too. Hating the war, but proud of our service. Wishing the war never happened, but unwilling to say we'd have done differently and have to give up having had the privilege of knowing those we lost... For veterans--and especially for combat vets--I think those kinds of conflicts in our feelings are a major issue in our PTSD because it makes it so hard to come to a personal perspective on our experience that makes any kind of sense.
Years ago I was one of a group of VN vets that went to speak to a HS history class in Maryland. On our first visit, we noticed "VIETNAM" spelled out in large letters across the back wall of the classroom. Looking closeley, we discovered that the letters were made of 58,000 straightpins the teacher had had the students spend 5 minutes each day putting in. The next year, the back wall was filled with a collage of 58,000 faces clipped from magazine photos.
That teacher was someone who had gotten his draft notice, refused induction, and had spent either 18 months or 2 years in jail for it (I'm a little rusty on the precise time he served of his 2-year sentence). And we who had fought in Vietnam admired that teacher and felt we had more in common with him than with the VN War chickenhawks.
I'd been a draftee in '67, but I'd volunteered for the draft by calling up my draft board and asking them to take me. I don't know if that got someone else off the hook--I was more concerned at the time with being able to get out in 2 years in case I didn't like the military, rather than being locked into a 3- or 4-year enlistment. I also volunteered for Infantry, OCS, Vietnam, and combat assignment.
Today's disconnect between American civilians and their military is a problem for which some see resurrection of the draft as the solution. Some also support a draft as a deterrent to war. But I can't help remembering how long the VN War went on despite the draft, and that 17,725 draftees were killed in Vietnam (30.4 percent of all combat deaths).
Your conflicts--and your feelings about the prospect of your sons going to war--are perfectly understandable. I can't help being reminded of an expression of another mother's feelings...
Johnny I hardly Knew Ye
While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy
A stick in me hand and a drop in me eye
A doleful damsel I heard cry,
Johnny I hardly knew ye.
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns
The enemy nearly slew ye
Oh my darling dear, Ye look so queer
Johnny I hardly knew ye.
Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild
When my heart you so beguiled
Why did ye run from me and the child
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.
Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run
When you went for to carry a gun
Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home
All from the island of Sulloon
So low in flesh, so high in bone
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg
Ye're an armless, boneless, chickenless egg
Ye'll have to put with a bowl out to beg
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again
But they never will take our sons again
No they never will take our sons again
Johnny I'm swearing to ye.
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