For those who were or are in the military, did you go in with specific reasons or ideals as to why you were joining; did you join because of economic restraints or (for those of a certain age) were you drafted?

I joined decades ago. I was 20 years old, living on my own, putting myself through college, and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I joined the navy to get an education and experience which I did and parlayed into a lifetime career (not in the navy). I was only in for 6 years. I did not join out of some ideal of serving my country. However, that being said, I have since come to the firm conclusion that all individuals need to give a few years of service. I learned a lot more than just a trade. I learned honor, self-reliance as well as working as part of a team, I learned better how to interface with people from different backgrounds and beliefs, and I learned a lot about what was good and bad with our government. Example: the socialized medicine that all military personnel enjoy is a mixed blessing. It is nice that you can go to the doctor whenever you want, but the quality of that care was spotty at best. Another example: The navy had (at least at the time) an open wallet and had no problem wasting money. I was not raised that way and it always rubbed me the wrong way. But the root of that problem is that there is no accountability, really, throughout our federal government. I was very glad I joined and very happy with my decision to not re-enlist.

@seawulf575 I’d say your military experience may have made you the man you are. And decidedly a good thing. I agree that “all individuals need to give some service.” And your statements about accountability ring so true. The elephant in the livingroom so to speak.

I was not in the military, but many in my family were and are.

For example, my father joined the Navy to avoid the draft during Vietnam. He ended up in Vietnam anyway, but aboard an Aircraft Carrier.

More recently, my godson joined the Navy to get out of his hometown, get a paid education, and see the world. He has done those things.

In both cases, it was a means to an end.

I did not have the means to get some doctor to write a phony-baloney “Get out of Jail Free” excuse for a draft deferment (like Trump’s ‘heel-spurs’ doctor), so was drafted and sent to Vietnam, serving for a year in a combat aviation (assault helicopters) group. I got home OK, but many guys (including one of my closest friends) never lived to see 21.

It is still painful today, and always will be, especially since you only needed to be in country for a few weeks to realize that the whole thing was complete bullshit, and that all of those who had already died (and were going to die later) were losing their lives for nothing, whether we stayed there for five more years, or for a hundred more….

@si3tech I’d disagree. Being familiar and living through the Vietnam era as a kid and seeing my friends brothers, neighbors and others dying needlessly as @PullMyFinger has, well…while I respect the service of servicemen I do not support the war machine in any capacity and would never, ever, voluntarily be part of the military.

I was not in the military, but I wish I had considered it more seriously. Mind you, I’m not talking about armed services for myself, my dad worked for the Public Health Service. I’m not sure how he first wound up there (he worked for PHS for 4 years and then left, and then went back again 8 years later). I think initially the government was actively seeking people with my dad’s degree, which was sociology. When he went back the second time it was because my mom wanted to move back to Maryland, my dad didn’t get tenure where he was teaching, and my parents liked the military benefits. The military bridged his time from when he first served, so all years counted, which was great. Over time my parents more and more appreciated the benefits of being employed by the military. My dad wanted my to seriously consider working for the government or military for all the perks, especially the pension.

I have many friends and acquaintances who served time in the military. I’d say 30% joined to serve and had at least one parent who served. Maybe 20% went in for a particular skill—to become a doctor, to become a pilot, work specifically for NOAA, that sort of thing. Another 30% because they believed what the recruiter said about seeing the world, all sorts of training and opportunities, and they didn’t have much else looking good for a career. That leaves another 20% for various miscellaneous reasons. That’s my experience anyway with the people I know. The miscellaneous includes older people I know who were drafted. If you’re 60+ years old that percentage is likely much much higher. In fact, now that I live in a retirement community the amount of people I talk to who served probably doubled, I just don’t always know I’m talking to a war vet.

OK, here’s my story. I’ve told different parts here and there, but I’ll tell the whole tale here. It was 1967. It’s hard to believe it was 50 years ago, but the dates don’t lie. I was a senior in high school, and my passion for music was strong even back then. I had a cousin who was a Master Sergeant in the Marines. He set it up for me to arrange an audition to join the Navy as a Designated Musician. This meant I would enlist, avoid being drafted, and the Navy would send me to Music school as I increased in rank. If I had known then what I learned about myself over the next few years, I would have auditioned as a singer. As it was, I auditioned on tuba, which I played in the marching band since 8th grade, and accordion, which I had played since I was 7 or so. The audition went well, but not well enough. I was told to go get about another six months practice, and come back and audition.

At that point in my life, my self-esteem was at an extremely low point, and I did not have the self-confidence. I gave up on the idea of being a navy musician. However, the draft was in full swing, and I went and talked to the recruiter. The usual enlistment was for four years active with two years in the inactive reserve. However, with my aptitude testing, They offered to send me to school for Data Systems Technician. This was in 1967, about 30 years before the digital revolution really took off. Since the training was so extensive, they would require that I sign up for the complete six-year tour of active duty. It sounded like a great opportunity, and a great second-best since I was not going to be designated as a musician.

jI enlisted in June, with a delayed entry until the end of September. Even though I was not designated a musician, I was able to qualify for the boot camp band, and was placed in a special company, and was allowed a few extra perks, such as having a beer after outside gigs, and such. After boot camp, I was assigned training at the “Basic Electronics and Electricity Preparatory School. It was school during the week, and I was off on weekends. I was close enough to my home town that I spent a lot of weekends at home during those first three months in 1968.

After BEEP school, I was sent to the “A” school, the first level of special training for Data Systems Technician. This school was located at Mare Island, near Vallejo, CA, about 30 miles from San Francisco. This was actually my first time out on my own, and I fell in love with San Francisco and everything that was happening there in 1968; the “hippie” phenomenon, the Peace movement, cannabis, free love, and most of all, the music. I went down there every weekend, and enjoyed free concerts by the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Santana, and too many others to mention. Needless to say, the distraction did not help my training or studies. I soon flunked out of the DS school.

So there I was, seven months into a six year commitment, the reason for my commitment just flushed down the toilet, with a growing antipathy for the US involvement in the war. My already fragile self-esteem was shattered, and I really felt like a piece of shit floating down the river.

After I dropped was dropped from the school, my next duty assignment would have to be overseas. The Navy had a policy that one had to volunteer for duty in Vietnam. I looked at all the options, and figured the odds had to be with me with this one. I figured I would either get a fairly secure land job at a Naval base in ‘Nam, get duty on board a ship, or get put smack dab in the middle of the worst of it on a river boat (aka “swift boat”). Plus there was the combat pay. So I put in for duty in Vietnam.

I was assigned to a hospital ship. I did not see any combat, but I saw a lot of the results of it, some of which I have described in other posts. I was there from August of ‘68 to April of ‘70. I had extended my stay there, and had been on R&R to Sidney, so I did get a bit of travel on Uncle Sam’s dime.

Looking back at my state of mind at the time, I would now consider myself clinically depressed. I hated what I was doing, I hated being where I was, and I felt no incentive to progress in rank. My life stank, and I was the only one who smelled it. More than one time, I stood oat the rail, wondering if it would be better if I were to fall over and never be recovered. I would then think of home. My wonderful family who loved me in spite of my feelings for myself…then my only desire was to pass the time until I could leave that ship, and get assigned back Stateside.

It finally happened. I was assigned to the Naval Air Station in Norfolk, VA. It was 1970 by now, and things were changing. I was able to fly home to Illinois to surprise my parents on their 35th wedding anniversary. That really lifted my spirits.

I was in the communications department at Norfolk, and I saw the message come directly from the Chief of Naval Operations. Due to an authorized reduction in force, anyone who had agreed to an enlistment extension, provided the extension had not begun, could get the extension cancelled.

I grabbed that message, and ran down to the Personnel office. I had become pretty close to the Personnel Officer (her name was Rhonda), and I said to her, “Does this mean what I think it means?” Sure enough, it did. I had woke up that morning, with a little over three years left on my enlistment. By the time the day was over I had a little under a month!

As far as my ideals and values, I started mildly opposed to the war in Vietnam. By the time I walked of that base in Norfolk for the last time, I was, and have remained for the rest of my life, a staunch pacifist. I realize that war has more geopolitical implications than the original objective, successful or not. I also think outright war, as a geopolitical choice, should be declared obsolete.

Family history with a bump from 9/11