Commentary—

Feeling The Breeze From The Draft

By Nancy K. Crevier

As a parent who remembers brothers and uncles and friends and cousins who did not return from the Vietnam War, it is impossible not to feel a little queasy at the thought of my children and my friends’ children one call away from taking part in a war. It is, no doubt, a feeling encountered by countless parents throughout history. Still, for those of us who gave little thought to the draft after the Vietnam War, the requirement on the FAFSA (Federal Application For Student Aid) form regarding selective service registration makes the draft more of a reality, and those registering are boys we know.

The Selective Service Act of 1917 required all men between the ages of 18 and 45 to register for the draft, should our government deem a rapid expansion of the US armed forces be necessary to supplement the volunteer army. A lottery style selection determined the order in which registrants would be called for induction (drafted) into the armed forces. In World War I, 72 percent of the men in the US armed forces were a result of the activation of the selective service draft.

It was felt that the system promoted by selective service would be a fair and equitable way to staff the armed forces, although loopholes existed that allowed those with ways and means to avoid the draft. Loopholes for exemptions from the draft, such as essential work in agriculture or industry or student deferment, have always been controversial, as they were perceived to discriminate against the poor and working class men. A higher percentage of draftees and subsequent deaths occurred among young men of poor backgrounds in all of the wars.

Drafting of men continued through World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War but in 1948, a new selective service changed the age range, requiring men between 18 and 26 years of age to register, with an extended period of service if they were placed in action. In 1955, the Reserve Forces Act was put in place to strengthen the National Guard, and it was the Military Selective Service Act of 1967 that increased the number of draftees during the Vietnam War.

For those who came of age during the Vietnam War era, the draft was a fact of life for young men. Everyone knew of someone who had marched off at the government’s order and come back in a box, or others who returned changed men, some radically, some only imperceptibly.

When the draft ended in 1973, selective service remained in place, with registration still required for men 18 to 26 years old. In 1975, registration was no longer required, although the selective service still was very much alive.

After just a five-year hiatus, complacency seemed to sweep the young men formerly of registration age and even the return of selective service registration in 1980 during the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan created little stir. A few ignored the requirement, risking prosecution, but most resigned themselves to registering without a hint of the demonstrations and flag burnings that accompanied the draft in the 60s and 70s. The fact that registration is directly connected to obtaining federal student aid for higher education probably has something to do with it.

Our boys are now young men, applying to colleges, applying for financial aid — and registering with selective service. What seems to lie beneath the surface, though, is the fact that the young men — but not our young women — that we have raised and love make themselves vulnerable to the draft if it is enacted.

Our reactions are varied. For some parents having their son register for selective service is a moment of reflection. On the one hand is the feeling that there is a need to do the right thing, to take responsibility for our country; on the other hand, parental emotions cry out to keep their children safe.

“I felt sick in my heart,” says Susan Coney, a colleague of mine and the mother of 23-year-old Kyle. “I thought, ‘Who do I know in Canada?’” Yet her son dutifully registered, and there his number remains, inactive now and inactive always, his mother can only hope.

Mark and Carol Boland have a 20-year-old son, Mark, who is a student at the University of Connecticut. His registration with selective service was not remarkable, says Mr Boland. “It still seems like it is such a volunteer thing. The possibility of him being drafted seems remote.” However, he adds, calls from recruiters remind them that their son is in the system. “So, you’re certainly aware of it.”

Brandon Leon-Gambetta will turn 18 this year, and like so many other mothers, his mother, Wendy, struggles to assess her feelings regarding her son’s eligibility for the selective service — and ultimately, a draft.

“I feel torn,” she says, “because on the one hand I do believe in equal responsibility for defending our country, but on the other hand, my son is a passionate pacifist, so I can’t even imagine it, especially in this particular war.”

Mrs Leon-Gambetta touches on other questions that are raised by registering for selective service. She says, “One thing I’ve always struggled with is that it is the so-called ‘disposable’ people who are going off to war. Why should it be the people who don’t have so many choices?” She also poses another question of interest: Do girls need to register for selective service?

The answer to that question is no. Women have never been drafted into the American armed services. Periodically, Congress reviews the Department of Defense’s (DOD) stance on the conscripting of women and the registration process has been challenged in court. The Supreme Court supported the DOD position in 1981 that because a draft creates a pool of soldiers for combat, and because women are restricted from direct ground combat, that no constitutional law has been violated. Congressional concerns about the impact on society of registration and draft of women were voiced at that time, as well. A 1998 General Accounting Office report focused on the increased costs to our country for registering women and made no recommendations on policy. So, while women are valued in the volunteer army, presently the are not on equal footing with their male counterparts who must register for selective service.

We have lived a sheltered life while our children have sprouted from babies to young men and women. We know we are blessed to live in a country where our children can decide for themselves how much or how little they choose to contribute to the armed forces, where they can choose to register or not to register and face the consequences.

There is not presently a draft in effect. There are, however, many parts of the world in which the United States has troops. As our young men stand there, registration form in hand, there are equal parts of pride and fear that fill our hearts, uniting with the hearts of parents down through the ages. And we know that we cannot answer for them what they must answer themselves.