21 Intelligence

In 1965 John called me—in a panic—and informed me that he had received notice from the Selective Service that he was to report for induction into the armed forces. But before he did so John was to fill out and return a form one question of which asked if John knew of any reason he felt he could not serve in the army.

John did.

"I refuse to take part in the civil wars of Vietnam and the Dominican Republic," John had written in reply to the question, "or in the suppression of the civil insurrection in Watts."

Jesus!

Simply astonished by his commitment, I was utterly stunned by his courage, and I had at the time not an inkling that this would be but the first of many times that the actions of my friend John would so affect me.

A few weeks later two men who identified themselves as lawyers with Army Intelligence knocked on the door of John's one-room apartment in Iowa City and told him that he was free to decline but that it would be best for him if he did as they asked.

John agreed to go with them.

They escorted him to their hotel room and interrogated him for eight hours. At the end of their questions the men asked John to read, correct, approve, and sign a transcript of their exchange. There were many minor discrepancies, John told me, and at first he had asked that these errors be corrected, but exhausted by the tension of his ordeal and eager to be allowed to go home, John had let them pass and had approved the text of the transcript and signed.

To me John emphasized that the two men definitely were no dumb Army bureaucrats. Dressed in dark suits, white shirts, and ties, and carrying black briefcases, they had impressed John as principled, highly intelligent, committed, learned, and informed. The whole experience, he said, had been intimidating, intense, and just plain scary. John had received a carbon copy of the final transcript and he let me read it. It was more than twenty pages long, as I remember, maybe thirty, single-spaced. I felt deep respect and admiration for my friend—for his integrity, his intelligence, his courage, and his wit. 

"Is there anything you do like about this country?" the men asked John near the end of his interrogation.

"I like the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution," John replied.

Months passed.

Then in the mail a second time John received the identical notice of induction and order to report that he had received the first time and—without any mention of his three objections to military service or of his interrogation by agents of Army Intelligence—a request that he fill out and return the very same form.

John was distraught.

Now his girlfriend was pregnant. He did not know what to do. For lack of any better idea he got married and informed the draft board that his wife was going to have a baby. The rest was a formality.

John was deferred.

Like me.