Do you know what gives me a warm feeling right down to my toes?  It is the way the American people today treat our service men and women.  The American people may disagree on whether we should be in Iraq, but almost none blames the soldiers, marines, sailors or airmen who are serving there.

It wasn’t that way 40 years ago when we were bogged down in Vietnam.  For some reason, just seeing a military uniform set off a certain segment of our society.  Of course, this same segment did not trust anything called the Establishment.  I think the message was, “Don’t trust anyone over thirty.”

In the early years of the Vietnam War, I was protected from the impact of the dissent by being assigned in Germany (1966-69).  We had all we could handle with the drug and racial problems.  Our sources for information were Armed Forces Radio and the Stars and Stripes newspaper.  Not a lot of anti-war stuff was getting through to us.  We did know that President Johnson had decided not to run for re-election because of anti-war sentiment, but we truly were sheltered.

So in 1969, when I showed up at Northwestern University School of Law to obtain a masters degree in criminal law, I wasn’t prepared for the resentment to the military I encountered (was I really a baby killer?).  I wasn’t in uniform, but I couldn’t hide.  I was the only one on the downtown campus without a pony tail!

Having lived in a cocoon for three years, I wasn’t prepared for the intense anti-war, anti-military uproar that enveloped me in Chicago.  I softened the impact by getting my news from the conservative Chicago Tribune and their TV station, WGN.  In reflecting, I am satisfied that the Germans treated the US military better than our fellow country men.  I knew we were in trouble when our graduate group’s sweet 50 year-old secretary told me she would be late coming back from lunch because she was attending an anti-war rally.

It was during this period, with me on orders to Vietnam, that Carole decided that she and the kids would be more comfortable in a waiting wives community (see blog on Shilling Manor under My Military Daze) than living  among the demonstrators.  It turned out to be a spectacular choice.

In 1973, our country eliminated the draft and went to a volunteer Army (VOLAR).  Even though all JAG officers were volunteers, some of them may have volunteered rather than be drafted (“It was either the JAG Corps or Canada.”).  The JAG Corps was given a certain number of “VOLAR” dollars to go out and recruit young law students to join us.  I was teaching at the JAG School in Charlottesville, Virginia and was selected to visit 11 law schools in the Midwest.

My Commandant, Colonel John Jay Douglass, advised me that since it was already October, I needed to start my visits with North Dakota.  The longer I waited the less likely I was to get there.  Well, I put Grand Forks, ND at the top of my list and just barely got there.  The plane I was on started to land in Grand Forks, but pulled back up and we landed in Winnipeg, Canada.  They bussed us back to Grand Forks and promised our luggage would soon follow.

I set up my visit at Washington University School of Law in St. Louis with their placement office.  They provided me with an office for interviews, but did not notify the student body that I was coming.  The uniform was still a problem.  One reservist who saw me stopped by to say hello.

My alma mater, the University of Missouri treated me much better.  When my interviews were completed, I decided to step over to Jessie Hall and say hello to Dean Harris.  He had been a friend and advisor throughout my six years at MU.  He was my first counselor when I stepped onto campus.  It was he that I talked out of sending me to remedial English Class (five hours a week for three hours credit).  He also was instrumental in finding Carole a secretarial position in his office when I started to law school.

Dean Harris’ secretary told me he couldn’t be disturbed, because the entire afternoon was blocked out for interviews with medical school applicants.  I told her I wouldn’t mind waiting so that I could say hello in between interviews.  She said that was impossible.  Just then, he came out of his office, saw me and pulled me into his office.  I kept insisting that I didn’t want to get him off schedule.  As he shut the door to his office, he said,”Jack, I am so sick of hearing these applicants tell me they want to become a doctor so that they can work in the inner-city and help the poor!”

We probably talked for 20 minutes with me continually reminding him that I shouldn’t stay.  It was great seeing and chatting with an old friend.  When I left the office, the secretary was waiting for me.  She was furious.  She said, “Major, by being so inconsiderate and interrupting the interview schedule, you may have cost some young student the opportunity to become a doctor.”  I looked at her for a second and then said, “I think you are more upset about my uniform that your are with me.”  There was a long reflective pause and she said, “Well, you may be right.”

Her comment was very telling of the time.  Thank goodness things have changed.  Today, under the same scenario, she would probably try to get me on the interview list.  I love it!