A Thought-Provoking Story

One of the most thought-provoking stories that I have ever heard came from Victor, a personal friend of mine. Except for our age difference and career choices, we could have been brothers. He was 21 years my senior, born in 1925. Upon graduating from high school during World War II, he enlisted in the United States Marine Corps and served in various Pacific islands battles against the Japanese. He told me that as a medic he never shot at anybody, but he had to be on the front lines to assist the wounded, and hence he witnessed some of the worst fighting and casualties first-hand. He swore that his survival was a miracle, and he thus became a deeply religious man for the rest of his life.

After the war, he went to college and later became a biology teacher at a junior college.  Some years later, being of German descent, he joined a German heritage club in St. Paul, Minnesota. As a member of the club, he formed a friendship with other war veterans. Over (presumably) a few beers, those friendly veterans would exchange war stories. (Here is where this story gets interesting.) Some of the veterans in that group were German immigrants who had fought with the Nazis. Yet here they now were as good friends exchanging war stories. Amazingly, men who a few decades earlier had been directed to kill each other were now discovering that their former supposed enemies were actually good people who were very easy to befriend.

This is another example (among many) of a war tragedy. The actual soldiers on the opposing sides of battle fields generally have similar interests in regard to their families, friends, careers, education, recreation, sports, entertainment, etc.  If they happened to speak the same language and knew each other, they would have enough in common to easily become friends.  Generally, they are innocent people who have not been at fault in any way and are not responsible in any way for the cause of the conflict. Yet, they are the ones who are called upon to sacrifice their lives in times of war, usually not the elite people who initiated the conflict.

As for myself, I am one of 55 first cousins on my mother’s side, many of whom were of eligible age to be drafted during the Vietnam war. One was killed over there. Four more came home emotionally damaged to the point of dying premature deaths. All of them were personal friends. Their families were devastated as a result. Sadly, various architects of that war in governmental positions later acknowledged that the Vietnam war was a mistake.  Ironically, in later years, certain conscientious objectors who had refused to participate were praised as heroes for having the courage to resist military service.

In my case, the United States Army classified me as “4F” because of a spinal curvature and high-blood pressure due to a partially obstructed renal artery, meaning I was considered to be physically unfit to serve. Otherwise, I would likely have been required to serve, and might not have survived. Just like some people are lucky enough to win a lottery, I was lucky to be disqualified.

In spite of many differences of opinion on various matters around the world, virtually everybody is in agreement on one issue: Everybody wants their children and grandchildren to be spared from the dangers of ever becoming soldiers in combat on a battlefield. Some people in influential positions may be enthused about sending other people’s kids to war, but certainly not their own.  If there was even the slightest chance of their children or grandchildren being drafted, their enthusiasm for combat would vanish immediately.