When The Bolsheviks Went
Into The Trenches To Stop Russian Continued Participation In World War I, Circa 1917
By Lance Lawrence
[Sam when he was telling
the story, Frank Jackman’s story, to his longtime companion Laura who knew some
of the outline of Frank’s military service,
had to bring her up to speed on some of the specifics which the reader
may as well be interested in although Frank a few years early had written a
detailed summary of the whole affair for the Progressive Nation magazine when they were doing a series on
Vietnam veterans and wanted the perspective of an anti-war soldier who while in
the military became a military resister. (While every serious civilian peace
activist then, or now, honors those who “got religion” as Sam likes to call it
on the issues of war and peace after their military service was completed the
military is the special category that marks off this story from theirs.)
Here in quick outline is
what Sam told Laura. Frank had been drafted in 1969 in the heart of the Vietnam
War, had allowed himself to be inducted with a slight anti-war feeling but not
enough to do anything else about so accepted induction in the Army. (Sam, just
to set the record straight had been drafted in 1968 had served a year, actually
thirteen months with a month R&R in Hawaii, in Vietnam as an 11 Bravo, an
infantryman, a grunt, “cannon-fodder” as Frank would say, and saw other do, and
he did things which still cause restless nights.)
About three days into
basic training down south down in notorious Fort Gordon near Augusta, Georgia which
all recruits go through Frank realized that he had made a big mistake, a very
big mistake, since whatever seemingly slight anti-war feeling he had previously
expressed had actually been a pretty powerful opposition to war but only had
been awakened by the actual experience of Army life. Frank would always tip his
hat later to those draft resisters who had formed their powerful opposition to
war before facing induction and under the threat of several years of federal prison.
Nevertheless, being no place where he could seek help and not sure what help he
needed he went through both basic training and, and this is important, Advanced
Infantry Training, the same training that Sam had gone through about a year
earlier, meaning training as an infantryman, grunt, “cannon-fodder” as he came
to call it. That meant no question in the post-Tet summer of 1969 when the Army
was desperate for replacements after suffering heavy casualties and the only
place on the good green planet when 11 Bravo skills were in anything like
serious demand was in Southeast Asia orders to Vietnam. At the end of that
training with a month’s leave before reporting to Fort Lewis, Washington for
transit that was exactly what happened.
While home, still not
sure what he was going to do, he got in touch with the Quakers up in Cambridge
who he had found out were doing counselling for G.I.s in exactly his situation.
The option presented which applied to him out of several not good paths to choose
from, after a technical AWOL (absent without leave, a no no) to get dropped
from the rolls for not reporting to Fort Lewis, was to turn himself in at the
nearest Army post which was at Fort Devens out in Ayer, Massachusetts and apply
for Conscientious Objector (CO) status. A long shot as the counsellor made
clear but the route he had to follow if he expected relief. At that time the
Army was turning down virtually all such applications whatever basis for the
beliefs, sincere or not. Frank was turned down on the basis of his Catholic
just war theory and moral and ethical objections none of which then were viable
as reasons for discharge, and as the next step the Quakers had gotten him a
lawyer who was very interested in testing these kind of Army turndowns in
federal court on writs of habeas corpus. That was one strand of the Frank case
which in the end would be the way that he got out of the Army via granting of a
writ in civilian court and received an honorable discharge as a result since
the court ruled the Army had acted arbitrarily and capriciously in turning down
his admittedly sincere application.
The other more important
strand, the one which makes sense of why Frank startled Sam by affirming his
pride in what he had done in the military one night soon after he had gotten
out and more recently reconfirmed several weeks ago was his increasing
commitment to the cause of peace, to stopping the massacres in Vietnam. One day
he decided not without feelings of extreme anxiety to join a demonstration
those Quakers from Cambridge were putting on at the front gates to the fort.
During the duty day and in uniform both illegal. That action lead to his first
special court-martial where he drew and served a six month sentence, or rather
almost six months with a couple of weeks chopped off for good conduct. Sam had to
Laura explained some of the specific details of that case previously about how
the military authorities pretty high up in the fort conspired to try to ship
him off under guard to Fort Lewis for transit to Vietnam something that
was only averted by a
time temporary restraining order from that federal court in Boston. Also
explained how Frank in his defense of his actions in open court had read into
the record Bob Dylan’s searing Masters of
War which drove the judges apoplectic.
Stockade sentence one
down Frank had clearly what he called “gotten religion” about war and peace
during this whole process and almost immediately after he got out one Monday
morning early on the weekly parade field where everybody lined up he came
storming out of the barracks in civilian clothes carrying a sign “Bring The
Troops Home.” That brought a second Special court-martial in which he drew
another six month sentencing serving almost all of it before the writ of habeas
corpus came through releasing him from the Army’s clutches. Otherwise Frank had
mentioned one time he might still be in the stockade the way he was feeling and
the Army was obliging him in his determination to break the chains holding him
to the Army.
Another night Frank
would tell Sam and some other friends that after he first turned himself in
long before he served serious time he had felt relieved of the fear that
troubles most people into thinking twice about doing what their heart tells
them to do for fear of incarceration. He, not having been entangled with the
law previously had had to stay in a naval prison cell in Boston subsequently a
State Police holding cell before being transported to a short pre-trial
detainment cell in the post stockade, after turning himself in as an AWOL. That
very few days of initial imprisonment acted as a catalyst since a lot of the
fear of jail time, which is nevertheless hard time to do no matter what anybody
says, is a fear of the unknown and of stories heard from childhood about not
doing this or that unless you wanted to wind up behind bars where they might
lock you up and throw away the keys. The first taste relieves that anxiety. He
made everybody laugh that night when he related how every freaking dumb-ass drill
sergeant in basic training and AIT would warn their charges that any willful
misconduct would wind them up in Fort Leavenworth, the maximum security
hard-ass hard time place for the incorrigible. After surviving that first small
bout, that mere taste Frank recalled that he would keep repeating to anybody
who would listen- “hey, what do you want to do wind up in Leavenworth” when
they threatened to put him away for keeps. A strange way to lose your fear of
being locked up in the slammer but a nice cautionary tale. Lance Lawrence]
******
You never know,
especially if you have lived in this wicked old world long enough, when some
ancient memory long buried will come up and bite you. Not literally but make
you sit up and take notice nevertheless. Take the case of one Frank Jackman, a
writer, something of an inventor, and for our purposes one of those guys whom
he, when in writing mode, has called a member in good standing of the
Generation of ’68, a turbulent war time, roller coaster of emotion time which
deeply formed many a baby-boomer. Oh yes and for our purposes since we will be
speaking of war and what the hell to do about stopping it as we approach the
final year of the 100th anniversary of the First World War, the
so-called war to end all wars, a full-fledged Army veteran. A veteran of a
certain type not to be found in the cheap dollar a hard liquor drink bars
adjacent to your local American Legion or Veterans of Foreign Wars meeting
hall.
This is the way Frank
told Sam Lowell, a friend from high school down in North Adamsville, south of
Boston also a veteran but of the more traditional type, except also minus the
cheap bar stuff one night over a couple of drinks at The Grotto in downtown
Boston near the Seaport District. (A story Sam would tell his longtime
companion Laura, Laura Perkins as well after setting up the story with a brief
Frank Jackman introduction outlined above.) Frank had, as mentioned previously,
startled Sam by opening up the conversation with a statement that he had always
been understatedly proud of his Army record, what he had done for the cause of
peace in his very small individual way, when, using old familiar language from
their growing up poor Acre section of town, the deal went down. (Sam had
automatically thought after hearing that sentiment that Frank should be rather
than understatedly have been “understandably” proud of that record wishing he
had done something similar when he time had come to face his demons.)
Sam was a bit confused by
Frank’s comment nevertheless since while both men were Army veterans and
whatnot they seldom of late had talked about those experiences much less what
lessons Frank as the more political type of the two had drawn from that
experience. He asked Frank why he had brought up that point since they long ago
had agreed that Frank had done the right thing during his Army time (and that
Sam to his everlasting regret had not but nobody pushed that point then or
now). What had caused that recollection to surface once more was a recent
“controversy,” what Sam usually called “a tempest in a teapot” when whatever
the problem was it was minor in the great scheme of things. This would prove
the case as well but Sam could see where Frank would be incensed by the
implications of what went as a result of that minor event in the great scheme
of things.
Of all things almost
fifty years later the big deal was over Frank’s discharge, his official DD214
which for all military personnel is the summation of one’s service time and
discharge. What enabled you to be called veteran by friend and foe alike, and
what entitled you to certain governmental benefits reserved for those in
veteran status. If you can believe this would come up with what you already
know from above about whether he was even a veteran. Sam gasped in disbelief
but held up comment because he wanted every gory detail of this charge.
Both men, each from a
different place but each having “gotten religion” on the issues of war and
peace, began shortly after Frank’s discharge which was later than Sam’s to work
with various anti-war veteran groups like the Vietnam Veterans Against the War
(VVAW). Sam did that kind of work for a while and even today if Frank asks him
he will show up at an anti-war rally against American aggression in Iraq,
Syria, Afghanistan or the ever-growing threat of war in places like Iran and
North Korea. But mostly he was bogged down with work, with three ex-wives and a
parcel of kids who almost broke him with college tuition and left the politics
to Frank. Frank as well would have periods of political inactivity due to a lot
of the same reasons Sam had except he would stick with it more for the long
haul-those periods of inactivity he called an “un-armed truce” with the
war-monger. Particularly Frank (and Sam for a longer while than usual having
finally gotten that parcel of well-behaved kids through college which had
nearly broken him having a little more free time) became incensed and energized
over the Bush/Cheney/Rumsfeld Iraq invasion of 2003 and wound up joining the
local chapter of another veteran’s peace group, Veterans Peace Action (VPA), in
Boston. And that is where “the rubber hit the road” as one of Sam’s expensively-trained
at his almost breaking point expense college boys would say.
Frank, as anybody who
read the introduction could see a mile away, once he is committed to something
is in “all the way.” That was his approach to VPA once he decided to join up.
That joining up process as previously with VVAW and other later organizational
affiliations meaning no paper membership but an activist’s commitment and for a
few years, several years actually, there was no problem, no political problem.
When Frank had joined he had specifically joined the local VPA chapter since
there was an option to join the local, the national organization or both. He
opted for the local since he felt, and still feels that the national
organization is something that he would be merely a paper member of which did
not interest him in the least. Things seemed okay until a local member with
ties the national organization who let’s call him as Frank did “the Inquisitor-General”
began an individual campaign a few years ago directed mainly at Frank declaring
that he was not a member of VPA since he has not, had never, paid dues to
National (he did faithfully to the local chapter as well as contribute extra
funds for various campaigns another usual step when he was “all in”). The Inquisitor-General
as it turned out was right when Frank checked that matter out. Was right as far
as that fact went although the local held to its long-time which was reaffirmed
in their subsequently enacted by-laws that one could be a local member without
being a National member as long as one, with various hardship exceptions, paid
local dues. Mostly bureaucratic hokum as the whole thing drifted like smoke
from his mind.
Not so the Inquisitor-General
(let’s call him to save cyberspace I-G for simplicity’s sake hereafter). He
would periodically badger Frank about his “non-membership” usually via e-mail
since while the I-G may have been an organization stickler he played other than
poster child “thorn in the side” no active role in the local organization. Had
his base of support to the extent that he had any in the national office VPA
bureaucracy. Then about a year ago the
I-G amped up his campaign, decided for his own nefarious reasons or his own
delusions, or maybe both, that if Frank didn’t apply for National VPA
membership which required proof of military discharge, that vaunted DD214 that
he was “hiding” something ( that proof of discharge a requirement of the local
chapter as well but being a looser not as well organized volunteer organization
with fewer resources and less procedural hurtles had never asked Frank, or many
others for that matter, for discharge papers upon becoming members). He was
hiding something, something nefarious in a veterans’ organization of any stripe,
that he was possibility not a veteran. Frank sensing a twisted turn in events
in order to protect himself had quickly contacted the State Adjutant-General’s
Office to get a copy of his discharge since he no longer had a copy at home. A
few days later it came via e-mail and he forwarded that copy to the local
executive committee which was the appropriate place to verify his status under
normal circumstances. End of story as Sam was famous for saying.
Not quite, actually not
by a long shot. The I-G as far as Frank could tell never pressed the issue
further that year. Several weeks ago the I-G again pressed the issue not only
to Frank but to the Executive Committee once again defaming Frank as
possibility not a veteran. The executive committee or the members who
overlapped from the previous year told the I-G that they had seen Frank’s
discharge and that was that. As you now know that was not the case. The I-G
essentially defaming the committee in the process wanted a copy of the
discharge which he as a merely marginal member of the local VPA was
emphatically not entitled to view for privacy reasons among others. He kept up
a drumbeat including to Frank to produce the DD214 although Frank had a
long-standing policy of not responding to anything from the I-G for any reason
after few blow-outs a few years previously. On this particular issue Frank was
adamant that he needed no “good conduct certificate” by the I-G (or any other
entity including the local and National branches of VPA) as a stand-up anti-war
soldier. Without going further into the silly rather continuously repetitive
details at some point not yet concluded the Executive Committee started
expulsion proceedings against the I-G and Frank has retained a lawyer to begin
a defamation suit in Massachusetts court.
During this whole
nightmarish Kafkaesque/1984 process Frank had a chance to think through not
only his pride in his individual actions against the American war machine during
the Vietnam War but his changing attitude not toward the personal actions
themselves but to their effectiveness. That is in a sense the real reason, if
one was necessary since the question of discharge for him was finished the day
he received his discharge back in February of 1971, Frank had kept his personal
history “on the low” as they say in another context. That leads us finally to
the title of this piece, the why of the Bolshevik way to stopping war in its
tracks at the soldier, grunt, cannon-fodder on the ground.
You see, and the first
time Sam heard Frank mention this he freaked out, Frank has come to believe
that pride or not he should have when ordered to Vietnam gone there and seen
what he as an anti-war soldier could do to stop the war “in the trenches”
taking a phrase from World War I. His later model the Bolsheviks, at that 1969
time their anti-war policies unknown to him, who Frank thought correctly
ordered their male members if inducted or dragooned into the Czarist armies to
accept that induction under penalty of expulsion from the organization (a
policy of later Bolshevik-descended organizations including the Communist and
Socialist Workers parties in their better days in the United States).
Not for the Bolsheviks
the refusal of the draft notice as occurred in America with wide-spread refusal
on an individual basis. Refusal by the kind of politically adept young men whom
if they had been inducted and accepted orders to Vietnam en masse could have perhaps
shifted the balance. Shifted it even more drastically than in the actual case
where the American Army in Vietnam in 1969 no end in sight, no victory in
sight, nothing but useless deaths in sight was half-mutinous. Had, as individual
soldiers Frank met in VVAW and VPA would confirm from refusal to go beyond the minimum
ordered march to FTA on their helmets to laying wasted under marijuana and other
refined killer drugs. Was an army even to, maybe especially to, the top
generals, a spent force and which would take an all- volunteer and several years
to put back into fighting trim.
Such actions by those
young men, by Frank, might have shortened the war by years. Of course such speculation
would depend on whether such numbers would have been permitted to go, whether
in Frank’s individual case he would have landed in a unit that would listen to
him, whether he might like many others have landed in mutinous Long Binh Jail
(LBJ). One thing Frank knew as this 100th anniversary of the last year
of the First World War was coming into focus collective action beat individual
acts of conscience six, two and even. He laughed as he thought about how
insignificant the I-G’s nonsense mattered in the great scheme of things except he
had to be stopped in his tracks like any other miserable wannbe big fish in a
little pond. Somethings never change.
