Friday, May 17, 1968
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
Draft resistance grows with war
By Richard Lundquist
The narrow stairway adjacent to a downtown restaurant climbs abruptly to the second story of the office building . . . suite 13 . . .
suite 14 . . . suite 15.
A psychedelic anti-war painting on the door of suite 15 screams at the visitor.
Inside are two rooms, a counseling office and a waiting room, the latter, except for its decor of draft resistance posters, not unlike a doctor's waiting room. But those who wait there bear an enigmatic American label—draft dodger.
Here at Toronto's draft resistance center, the largest and most professional in Canada, American draft dodgers receive the counseling and assistance necessary to cross the border and become oriented into Canadian society. They represent a cross-section of beliefs, backgrounds, and ambitions. Some come out of deep conviction while others are simply running scared; but regardless of their purpose for emigrating, they all have a common enemy—United States military service.
Since the beginning of the United States escalation in Vietnam, Canada has had an influx of American draft-age youth. The Toronto center counsels 25-30 persons each day and estimates that 7,000-10,000 draft resisters have emigrated to Canada. In addition, the center gets 100-200 letters a day inquiring about immigration procedures.
"We have grown as the war has grown," one of the five draft counselors at the center says, although he admits that the response has "eased up a little since Johnson offered to negotiate with Hanoi."
But the significance of the center is not to be found with the people who staff it so much as with the people it serves. Here is youth, idealistic and pragmatic; convinced and confused, meshed into an American stereotype—draft dogger. Detach the label, and the stereotype disintegrates.
While five or six people wait their turn in the outer room, the counseling goes on inside. A young man from Ohio wants to know the procedure for immigrating to Canada. He has a student deferment until September of this year and thinks it is futile to apply for conscientious objector status.
A counselor explains the Canadian immigration point system to him. "Do you have a relative here?" he asks.
The youth gave an uneasy laugh and said they wouldn't approve of him coming to Canada.
"Well, it really doesn't matter," the counselor replied. "You get five points for them just being here."
When the student inquired about employment opportunities in Canada, the counselor issued a brief complaint about an unfavorable article in the previous day's New York Times. "People around New York will see that and think there are no job opportunities here."
Just then a young man in his early twenties burst into the room. He wore a turtleneck sweater that met his tight-fitting slacks just below the waist. On his face, dark glasses supported his forehead in much the same fashion that a dark mustache supported his nose. He breathed arrogance.
After going through the mail and inquiring about money, he announced he was a military deserter.
"I just told my sergeant good bye one weekend," he boasted. "He said, 'You'll be back.' He didn't believe me."
After two weeks in New York's Greenwich Village, he had crossed the border into Canada. The young deserter explained the numerous ways he had tried to avoid military service in the United States. At first, he had applied for conscientious objector status and then had tried to avoid military service for medical reasons. These two means having failed, he enlisted in the Army.
"I even threw a psychic fit while I was in basic training," he said. "I laid in bed and kicked and screamed that I wanted to see the shrink. But the sergeant said nothing doing."
The stories he had to tell were not limited to the military.
"I'm a hippie," he abruptly announced. "I usually wear a blanket, sandals, anything that's comfortable. I just dressed straight today so I could cross the border."
He then jumped at the opportunity to explain his "acid trips" in the village, rambled through a monologue about the best "grass to blow," and terminated the commentary with the announcement that he eventually was going to leave Canada.
"I'm going to England and study drama," he injected "Speak-spear! I really dig Speak-spear."
Shortly after the self-proclaimed hippy, military deserter, and drama student left, another man entered the waiting room. He was neatly dressed in a green suit and a striped tie that led up to a pale, clean-shaven, executive-looking face. He sat quietly and confidently in the corner of the room.
Richard White, too, was in the military, but he is not now, nor will he be in the future, running scared. For reasons based on conviction, he prefers to be called a
"draft resister," rather than a draft dodger.
After graduating from St. Peters University in 1963 with a degree in accounting, White joined the National Guard, went through its Officers' Candidate School, and came out as a second lieutenant in 1966. But in 1966, also, he "became aware" of the Vietnam War.
"All my friends were against the war," he explained. "They kept bugging me about why we were fighting there. I tried to answer their questions. I couldn't because they were right."
"I began to feel strongly about the war morally. As subtly as possible I began to talk to my platoon about the war. I usually mentioned such things as the Geneva Accords and the bombing of the North. Soon I became embarrassed just wearing the uniform. Everything it stood for I was beginning to despise.
"I had this real conflict in my mind about what to do, and all this time I was looking for answers. I finally decided to tell my battalion commander about the way I felt, I remember I was kind of backwards about it. I just criticized the bombings before I finally said I couldn't go to Vietnam."
The battalion commander asked White to resign and said, "Don't do anything until we get in touch with you." Three days later he got a 1-A classification in the mail from his Selective Service Board.
He applied for conscientious objector status, but on Feb. 24, 1967, the state appeal board rejected his claim. He was sent an induction notice for Oct. 22, the same day as the mass march on the Pentagon.
"I had no qualms about going to jail," White said, "and I was prepared to do so then. But a friend advised me to get busted and spend some time in jail before I made a decision."
White did get "busted." Prior to the Pentagon march, he, along with other draft protesters staged a sit-in in front of Selective Service headquarters in Washington.
They were arrested for disorderly conduct and White along with the others received a jail sentence. While in jail, he was put in maximum confinement after being sexually attacked by other prisoners.
"I was in a non-violent bag until then," he said. "But I really wanted to kill those guys that attacked me. That and the coming of the resistance movement
changed my mind about jail. Being in jail just isn't resisting so far as I'm concerned.
"Going to jail is playing a game that your oppressor has set up—to walk into prison as some sort of martyr or dumb lamb. It's their game, their rules, they can change them anytime they want. That isn't resistance."
"One alternative is to be shot as they take you away or you can go underground in the U.S. Another alternative is going to Canada. And you can resist here by helping and encouraging others."
White chose to go to the Pentagon march rather than report for induction. He remained active in draft resistance work until March 7, when he got a federal indictment to appear in court in seven days.
"I didn't have enough time to make plans to go underground," White said, "so I came to Canada."
But once in Canada, everything did not go smoothly. He spent a month looking for employment before finally getting a job as an
administrative assistant at the University of Toronto. And largely because of his own problems, he wants to help other American draft resisters.
Portraits of Distinction
Also
Passports
Applications
Lettermen
K-Portraits
Please call for appointment
NOW 7:15
9:15
"POOR COW"
Carol White — Terence Stamp
Faye Dunaway — Warren Beatty
THE... MANAGEMENT
GAP
Caused by the low birth rate during the depression during the 30's has left business with a scarcity of managers at a time when expansion is necessary. Coupled with:
The escalation in Vietnam,
&
— The loss of key people to the armed forces, the empty desks in home and regional offices are numerous—and begin-
These empty desks are scattered throughout their administrative, accounting, technical, and sales departments;
It doesn't matter what you majored in, these companies will give you paid intensive (Post-graduate) courses and put you into the (work) within weeks.
See us, look over the hundreds of vacancies; use our branch offices from the East to the West for placement.
Clip and Mail Confidential reply! No obligation. Lift to charge and move up!
SERVICE SPECIALISTS, LTD.
220 Ozark Bldg.
906 Grand
Kansas City, Mo. 64106
816-474-8040
ADDRESS ...
CITY ...
PHONE ... ZIP ...
AREA OF INTEREST ...
Available at the following Bluebird Dealers:
Abilene
Concordia
Emporia
Great Bend
Goodell's Jewelry
Nauts Jewelry
Stanley Jewelry
Morrison Jewelry
Gray's Jewelry
Aggson Jewelers
Roberts Jewelry
Bob Reneau
Robert C. Smith
McPherson Renberger Jewelers
Phillipsburg McQueen Jewelry
Scott City Roberts Jewelry
Wichita Dales Jewelry