The civilian and the military worlds - there has always been a cultural divide between them. But that chasm is becoming wider. That is not healthy for society.
I was surprised - perhaps I shouldn't have been - to find that only about 8 percent of the American population has ever experienced military service. But we are products of our past. With many of my readers, I grew up during an era in which nearly half the male population experienced active military service or extensive reserve duty.
Many readers of this column are veterans of WWII, Korea, Vietnam, or the more recent wars. Many of us were kids during WWII, in high school during Korea, and served between the Korean and Vietnam War. We could not have imagined America without the prospect of male teenagers facing military service.
Prospective military service was just a fact of life - we accepted it. The military establishment doesn't like the draft - prefers gung ho volunteers to reluctant draftees. Parents don't like to worry about their kids being drafted. Kids don't like any perceived interruption of their education and careers. And current politicians, few of whom have experienced military service, would even dream of reinstituting the draft.
In short, an all-volunteer army takes everybody off the hook - except the volunteers and their families. Nobody likes the draft. But there were some real advantages to a larger share of the population facing obligatory military service. Perhaps the most obvious is that a draft would force politicians to deliberate more carefully before committing to long, costly wars.
A powerful military machine consisting exclusively of volunteers can lead politicians into temptation. It's like the kid with the hammer who sees everything as a nail. With a powerful all-volunteer military, it's too tempting to see every international problem as having a military solution.
There is a cultural downside to relegating military service to the few. We hear much these days about the difficult time returning veterans have in adjusting to the civilian world, whether relative to employment, adjusting to college, or other activities where few people have that shared experience. Surely, some of it has to do with our lagging economy. But it goes well beyond that.
WWII vets grew up during the Great Depression and reached military age just in time for the war. That shared experience afforded cohesion unique to that generation. This is exemplified by decorated combat veterans, Sens. George McGovern and Bob Dole, who were poles apart politically but had the utmost respect for each other and were able to achieve political solutions. An entire generation had those shared experiences, rebuilt the nation, and created its broad middle class.
Then came Korea, a smaller and shorter war, but just as vicious for those involved. (And sadly, it is all but forgotten, practically unknown except to those of that generation.) But the draft was still on and Ivy Leaguers known to lead infantry companies - unheard of a decade later.
During the peaceful but nervous interlude between 1953 and 1962, military service was still a fact of life. As birth rates were low during the 1930s, there were relatively few of us of military age during the late 1950s. Most of the male half of the population of that era, including celebrities like Elvis Presley, saw military service. Post military adjustment was not an issue. Even those of us who ended up in academia were interviewed and hired by professors, deans, and administrators, many of whom had experienced military service.
Returning vets of Vietnam had a tougher time. It was an unpopular war. Many vets recount stories of declining to wear their uniforms during leave because of disparagement and harassment. To exacerbate the situation, because of maturing baby boomers, there were enough males of military age that service was not universal. It was easier for kids from upper middle and upper class families than from working class families to avoid the draft.
While the wisdom of American intervention is still debated, it is now belatedly agreed by all that the shabby treatment of Vietnam vets is a tragic chapter in American history that should not be repeated.
The draft ended in 1973, replaced with a volunteer army - not designed for decade-long wars. In stark contrast to the past, few American families now have sons or daughters up for military service. With the all-volunteer service, the cultural chasm between the civilian and military worlds would widen.
I recall during my days as a teenaged Marine the periodic reminders that, in case of war, we were in for the duration and six months thereafter. We didn't worry about that - partly through teenage naiveté. But we knew that there was plenty of draft bait out there just in case. We could not have imagined that 50 years hence we would be in decade-long wars with an all-volunteer military, the ranks filled by women from hardscrabble and middle America, and no draft - except a "back door draft" mobilizing guard and reserve units.
Although many WWII and Korean vets had multiple deployments, WWII was over in four years and Korea in three. With millions of other vets with shared experiences, they returned to a grateful nation.
With Vietnam, if the soldier survived a year of hell, he was home, replaced by someone else. Not so with Iraq and Afghanistan. The career soldier is redeployed multiple times for a decade, increasing the probability of physical and psychological injury.
Today's veterans return to employers and colleagues, few of who have shared the military experience. The nation professes gratitude. But gratitude can ring hollow when there is no shared sacrifice, not even a modest surtax to help pay for the wars - and the nation's wealthiest, whose sons and daughters will never serve, demanding further tax cuts.
This growing cultural divide ill-serves the individual veteran, the military establishment, and the nation at large.
- John Waelti's column appears in the Times every Friday. He can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
I was surprised - perhaps I shouldn't have been - to find that only about 8 percent of the American population has ever experienced military service. But we are products of our past. With many of my readers, I grew up during an era in which nearly half the male population experienced active military service or extensive reserve duty.
Many readers of this column are veterans of WWII, Korea, Vietnam, or the more recent wars. Many of us were kids during WWII, in high school during Korea, and served between the Korean and Vietnam War. We could not have imagined America without the prospect of male teenagers facing military service.
Prospective military service was just a fact of life - we accepted it. The military establishment doesn't like the draft - prefers gung ho volunteers to reluctant draftees. Parents don't like to worry about their kids being drafted. Kids don't like any perceived interruption of their education and careers. And current politicians, few of whom have experienced military service, would even dream of reinstituting the draft.
In short, an all-volunteer army takes everybody off the hook - except the volunteers and their families. Nobody likes the draft. But there were some real advantages to a larger share of the population facing obligatory military service. Perhaps the most obvious is that a draft would force politicians to deliberate more carefully before committing to long, costly wars.
A powerful military machine consisting exclusively of volunteers can lead politicians into temptation. It's like the kid with the hammer who sees everything as a nail. With a powerful all-volunteer military, it's too tempting to see every international problem as having a military solution.
There is a cultural downside to relegating military service to the few. We hear much these days about the difficult time returning veterans have in adjusting to the civilian world, whether relative to employment, adjusting to college, or other activities where few people have that shared experience. Surely, some of it has to do with our lagging economy. But it goes well beyond that.
WWII vets grew up during the Great Depression and reached military age just in time for the war. That shared experience afforded cohesion unique to that generation. This is exemplified by decorated combat veterans, Sens. George McGovern and Bob Dole, who were poles apart politically but had the utmost respect for each other and were able to achieve political solutions. An entire generation had those shared experiences, rebuilt the nation, and created its broad middle class.
Then came Korea, a smaller and shorter war, but just as vicious for those involved. (And sadly, it is all but forgotten, practically unknown except to those of that generation.) But the draft was still on and Ivy Leaguers known to lead infantry companies - unheard of a decade later.
During the peaceful but nervous interlude between 1953 and 1962, military service was still a fact of life. As birth rates were low during the 1930s, there were relatively few of us of military age during the late 1950s. Most of the male half of the population of that era, including celebrities like Elvis Presley, saw military service. Post military adjustment was not an issue. Even those of us who ended up in academia were interviewed and hired by professors, deans, and administrators, many of whom had experienced military service.
Returning vets of Vietnam had a tougher time. It was an unpopular war. Many vets recount stories of declining to wear their uniforms during leave because of disparagement and harassment. To exacerbate the situation, because of maturing baby boomers, there were enough males of military age that service was not universal. It was easier for kids from upper middle and upper class families than from working class families to avoid the draft.
While the wisdom of American intervention is still debated, it is now belatedly agreed by all that the shabby treatment of Vietnam vets is a tragic chapter in American history that should not be repeated.
The draft ended in 1973, replaced with a volunteer army - not designed for decade-long wars. In stark contrast to the past, few American families now have sons or daughters up for military service. With the all-volunteer service, the cultural chasm between the civilian and military worlds would widen.
I recall during my days as a teenaged Marine the periodic reminders that, in case of war, we were in for the duration and six months thereafter. We didn't worry about that - partly through teenage naiveté. But we knew that there was plenty of draft bait out there just in case. We could not have imagined that 50 years hence we would be in decade-long wars with an all-volunteer military, the ranks filled by women from hardscrabble and middle America, and no draft - except a "back door draft" mobilizing guard and reserve units.
Although many WWII and Korean vets had multiple deployments, WWII was over in four years and Korea in three. With millions of other vets with shared experiences, they returned to a grateful nation.
With Vietnam, if the soldier survived a year of hell, he was home, replaced by someone else. Not so with Iraq and Afghanistan. The career soldier is redeployed multiple times for a decade, increasing the probability of physical and psychological injury.
Today's veterans return to employers and colleagues, few of who have shared the military experience. The nation professes gratitude. But gratitude can ring hollow when there is no shared sacrifice, not even a modest surtax to help pay for the wars - and the nation's wealthiest, whose sons and daughters will never serve, demanding further tax cuts.
This growing cultural divide ill-serves the individual veteran, the military establishment, and the nation at large.
- John Waelti's column appears in the Times every Friday. He can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
