I was just finishing my first semester of law school at the University
of Missouri School of Law. It was near Christmas, 1968 and we were
about to break for the semester when I received my induction notice
from the Selective Service System. I would have to report for
induction into the military services on February 17, 1969. I had
known this "invitation" was coming but was hoping I would have
been able to complete my first year of law school before reporting
for duty. I guess I can say that I was not tremendously excited
about the prospect but, as an American it was simply "part of the
deal."
Once I completed Basic Combat Training at Fort Leonard Wood,
Missouri, I received orders for Advanced Infantry Training at Fort
Lewis, Washington. Upon completion of this training in Mid-June,
1969, I received orders for the Republic of Vietnam (RVN) and, after
a 14 day leave, I would depart on the Fourth of July for that country
via Travis Air Force Base in Oakland, California. I arrived "in-country" on July 9 and was eventually assigned to the 4th Infantry
Division operating near Pleiku which was located in the Central
Highlands of South Vietnam. After I arrived at the 4th, while I was
waiting an assignment to one of several infantry units, I heard my
name over a loudspeaker telling me to report to the Admin Section
where one of the enlisted clerks there asked me if I would be
interested in transferring out of the Infantry. It took me less than
one second to make that decision and I was then told to report to
the Staff Judge Advocate's Office for an interview.
After a very short "interview" and a not-so-good typing test and to
my great joy I was hired immediately and assigned to that office.
My MOS (Military Occupational Service) was immediately changed
from Light Weapons Infantry to Court Reporter. After official orders
were "cut" I was assigned to a temporary barracks where I just sat
in a daze for what seemed like an eternity wondering how I could
have such good luck. When I "came to" I began writing a letter to
my parents because I knew they would be very interested in
knowing that my job "specialty" had been changed somewhat.
I realized that someone had been praying diligently for me. This
event was, in my opinion, just short of an actual miracle. Well, no, it
wasn't "just short of" it WAS an actual miracle.
For the next year I was working with a group that was responsible
for the prosecution of violations of the Uniform Code of Military
Justice at the special court-marital level. At that time, I really had
little knowledge of the Uniform Code but I knew I would be learning
quickly. Most of the "offenses" were things like possession of
marijuana or some other illicit drug but also for other violations like
being AWOL (absent without leave) or failing to obey a lawful order.
Others that I would be working with were others who had been in
law school or who had some other type of legal training.
I completed my year in Vietnam without any remarkable incident
other than the fact that I was in the job I had ended up with. After
my tour I was assigned to the Legal Assistance Office of the Staff
Judge Advocate's Office at Fort Dix, New Jersey. I realized then as I
do now, that I was very fortunate to have the military jobs that I had.
The only guns I ever fired were in a rifle range in the United States
and, for me, that was a great relief as I don't think I was a very good shot.
Follow-up thoughts on the Vietnam experience after reading
some of the thoughts of others
While my experience was certainly not that suffered by many of our members, I
did and do have some feelings about that war from my perspective as a noncombatant.
When I received a message from my parents that I had gotten my draft notice, I was,
as I mentioned previously, not that happy. I lived in a private home with other
students located just off the Mizzou campus. When I told our landlord (who
also lived in the house with his wife) that I would be leaving, the wife said she
wanted to cook dinner for me and did so. During the time we were eating she
told me that another of their tenants came back to visit after his Vietnam
experience and was in a wheel chair and almost unable to speak. She also
made a point of the fact that he was severely disfigured. I was never sure why
she felt she had to tell me that but I think maybe it was her way of expressing
unhappiness about that particular war and what was happening to young
Americans. I guess I will never know that for sure. I never did visit them after I
returned to school two years later.
Back to Vietnam.
In the office where I worked (I use the term "office" very
loosely), essentially, it was a "shack with a tin roof" that was fashioned into a
place where people like me could prepare courts-martial convening orders,
courts-martial orders after trials were over, as well as summarize records of
trial (poor excuses for a summary of what went on during the actual court-martial).
Across the "yard" was our "court room". Another shack with a "bench"
where members of the court-martial panel and/or a military judge would sit and
listen to witnesses. Very professional by Vietnam standards. Anyway, when I
showed up as the "new guy" one of the officers handed me a paint brush and
told me to paint the wooden plank "sidewalk" and when I was done, to paint the
inside of the court room. I thought to myself, sure beats pulling the trigger on
an M16 or tossing grenades at people I would probably not actually see. So, I
just smiled. I guess I did this for a few days until the guy whom I was replacing
left and I had to take over his "case load." Then, my perspective changed again.
Most of the nearly 600 trials we conducted in the twelve months I spent in this
"office" resulted in convictions. What this meant, is that each of these men,
regardless of what they had been charged with, now had a federal conviction.
Some of the offenses would be considered felonies (like drug possession or
assaults and batteries or disobeying some order of a "superior commissioned
officer." What really struck me as the 'drug' was normally a particle of marijuana
discovered in the pocket of some soldier whose platoon leader or platoon
sergeant suspected him of smoking 'pot.' OK, so the MPs doing the arresting
would literally 'shake down' the offender meaning they would have him remove
his pants and shake the pants until something fell out of the pockets. These
"particles' would then be "sent to the lab (haha) for analysis and the result
would always be positive. Of course, this provided the evidence used at trial to
assure conviction. OK, so far, so good. In order to secure convictions and keep
these new "criminals" in combat, there would be plea agreements. Most of the
battalion commanders during those first few months I was there, would agree
that if a person pleaded "guilty" to whatever offense, the sentence rendered by
the court would be "suspended" for six months and if the offender didn't
commit any other offenses, the conviction would "go away." After those first
few months, that didn't happen too much. The words came down from most of
the field commanders that there would be no plea deals. This meant that if
there was a trial the person would be convicted and would spend time in jail,
locally, of course, unless the offense was really serious, like murder.
Keep in mind, most of us working in this group had been students not long
before or had actually been in combat, subject daily to all kinds of horrible
things that people have read about. So there was no love lost of the military
justice system. It was quite efficient and once a person was charged there was
always a "speedy trial" by a "jury of his 'peers'?" Yes, unless of course if a
military judge was involved and then most charged would opt for trial by judge
alone as judges were more in tune with the concept of fairness and justice.
At one point someone posted a framed statement to the effect that "Military
Justice is to Justice as Military Music is to Music." This quote was attributed to
Supreme Court Justice William O.Douglas, then an active member of the U.S.
Supreme Court. Whether that was true or not I don't know but it did give some
sort of relief from the notion that men were sent to fight a really bloody war
and then when they did something to take away some of the anxiety (e.g. by
smoking pot) they should be incarcerated didn't seem fair. This was especially
true when, after a trial, we had to prepare a court-martial order which would
indicate that a person had been charged with a list of violations, tried by a court
martial consisting of (naming the members and their ranks) and showing first
that the person had been convicted of whatever charges and sentenced to
(usually) prison time. At the end of the order the name of the convening
authority would appear (usually the battalion commander of the convicted man)
and would be signed by that commander or his adjutant. There was then a
lengthy list of where that order was to be distributed. That would include, of
course, finance so the man wouldn't be paid most of the pittance he would
have earned and then to, among other places, the Armed Forces Records
Department at Ft. Benjamin Harrison in Indiana, to make sure everyone would
realize that this guy had been convicted of (most likely) a felony and should be
considered. . . We would have discussions as to "what if those orders never
made their way to Ft. Benjamin Harrison?" It was sort of up to each of us
handling trial records to make sure orders went where they were supposed to.
Did they??
Now where I worked produced only some of the courts-martial result that
occurred in Vietnam. There were, after all, over half a million men there at any
given time. So the system was, so to speak, over-worked, at best. Today I
think the system operates a bit differently in some respects. I don't know how
many courts-martial were conducted in Iraq or Afghanistan or other places but
soldiers are people and the thought of being killed at some unknown time is
still a scary thought. Yes, people charged with shooting and killing the'enemy"
should be mentally 'with it' and that means thinking clearly, but is the
suspicion alone enough.
Finally, one day I ran into a guy that I had spent basic training and advanced
infantry training with. He was in our "company area" and I asked him where he
had been. He named the unit and told me he was now in this main base camp
because he had been shot and also stepped on a poisonous stick called a
punku stick which went through his leg and, since it was tipped with poison
cause an infection and other illnesses. We talked for awhile and he knew what I
was doing, I don't know what he thought about that but I felt both happy and
sad that he had to go through what he had to and happy (if anyone can actually
be happy about this) that I didn't have to.
Ed Armstrong