To Blindly Follow or Not

There was an interesting point in my life a few years ago. After the events of September 11, some of my perspectives changed as it probably did for a lot of other people. I know this is rather trite, but bare with me. I felt this new obligation and pride in the United States that I never felt before. I started to look into joining the military.

The more I read about it, the more I idealized and idolized being a soldier. It seemed like a noble profession. I would give to the government, and the government would take care of me.

After more research, I decided that enrolling in ROTC once I got to college would be the best choice for me. For those of you who don’t know what the ROTC program is, it is a program where you train multiple times a week, take military classes, and attend a special advanced training during a summer or two. When you graduate, you are commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant (or Ensign in the Navy). A commissioned officer is different from enlisted rank. Enlisted rank go to basic training and start as Privates or Seamen, then go up from there.

My mother encouraged me reluctantly. She herself was in an ROTC program for a little while during her college years, but ultimately did not contract and join. So I decided to try it out.

I graduated high school in 2003. The war in Iraq was just starting.

When I started college later that year, I enrolled. At this time, I was still pretty unaware of politics and the like. I always identified myself as a liberal, but I was fairly moderate.

The hardest part about being in the program turned out not be the physical aspect. I loved all of the exercise and I was in the best shape of my life so far.

The reality check came for me when I learned that the military is just like any other company or corporation. Sure, your colleagues care about you, but you learn quickly that the names at the top of the organization do not. There was so much red tape, and never was I given a clear answer on any question I had. My biggest concern was what was going to happen to me once I graduated. No one could give me the straight answer:

“It depends on the needs of the Army/Navy/Marines/Air Force” Which of course meant I had a great chance to end up in the infantry or some other combat oriented position.

Fuck that. Maybe I wouldn’t have cared if we were at peace. But there was no way I was going to be potentially sent to my death under the hand of George W. Bush. The war wasn’t even as bad then as it is now. But something in my gut told me I couldn’t do this. I’ve always tried to listen to my instincts, because more often than not, they’ve been right.

Another problem is the nature of the military world vs. the civilian world. As a civilian, in whatever kind of work you do, you have the potential ability to make change. You have the ability to listen to your conscience. You have the ability to voice your opinions. You can do all of these and usually the worse thing that will happen is that you lose your job. But you can’t do any of these things in a culture where you have to follow orders under threats of severe and real punishment. You can even be accountable for following illegal orders.

Then there were other obnoxious cadets:

C#1: Who are you going to vote for President?

Me: Kerry. I don’t trust Bush.

C#1: You don’t trust your commander in chief?

What I should have said: No, I believe he is recklessly endangering the country and trying to engage a faceless enemy just like we did in Vietnam.

What I actually said: No. He’s stupid.

Thankfully, I did become more informed of the issues as time went on. I guess college will do that to you.

You can call me a fucking coward for these reasons, but why would I want to give my life to someone who would be so reckless with it. I’m lucky that I have other potential options for success in my life and that joining the military isn’t my only option. But what about those who don’t have much of a choice? Those are the ones I feel for. As for those who join because what they think they’re doing is right, I pray and hope all of you make it home with your lives and without injuries, but I’m going to disagree that what we’re doing over there is the right thing.

And no, I have no idea how to fix it, but staying there is probably a worse option.

This experience served as a caveat to me. I can’t blindly follow what anyone says without questioning it. You’re lucky if you have family and friends who look out for your best interests, because there are many other people and institutions that do not. And they’re paying the price. One of the saddest moments I ever felt was when I visited Arlington National Cemetery not too long ago. I saw gravestones for soldiers not too older much than myself. Some were only 18 years old.

But not everything was all bad about it. Being a part of a team and having a sense of belonging to something greater than yourself is a great feeling. However, the price of this is individuality. I may be able to give up some of it for the right cause, but not for this one.

~ by southclaw on April 12, 2007.