My thoughts after Memorial Day.
When I was 24 years old, I knew the time for my draft was up. Instead of waiting for the letter in the mail telling me that I was drafted, I went voluntarily. I did that to get away from Copenhagen, and with a broken heart having been let down by a young woman, which I had fallen passionately in love with and who had other plans which did not include me. I was a rather devoted Catholic at the time, and the military was not an option for me at all. Still isn't! So, I showed up at the draft office, papers in hand signed by my mentor and parish minister that I was unwilling to bear arms because of my faith. That was not a problem in Denmark. Instead of serving in the armed forces, I had two other options. The parole board offered me to serve as a park ranger or as a firefighter in the Civil Defense or SF as they called it back then. What a fantastic idea that no one had to bear arms if one did not believe in NATO or the colonial wars of the US, which they fought in Vietnam, Africa, or Central America at the time. There was no doubt in my mind; I wanted to be a firefighter, and so it was that I spend the next two years learning first how to put out all kind of fires and later as a sergeant, was taught how to cook and command a mobile kitchen-unit in case of a natural disaster. At the time, I was okay about my service, and though I did not choose to stay in the system when my time was up, I have never regretted that I served my country or gave my time for a cause for which I believed. I was proud of serving, and I thought of doing it peacefully. I would do the same today. I still don't believe that this world's future lies in colonialism or wars fought because of capitalist interest.
The reflection on my own story brings me to the question of how to observe Memorial Day in the country I live in now. I do not feel it is enough to honor fallen soldiers without asking the all-important question of to what cause did they put their lives down to fight. Did they blindly sign up to go wherever the government sent them, or did they fight to protect their home country and their families? I do not think anyone doubts the sacrifice to which the firefighters on 9/11 died. The same goes for the doctors and nurses on the frontline in the resent pandemic. Why are we so willing to honor men and women who fly out to fight wars that old rich men tell them to fight to protect their capitalist interests? Have any of these soldiers ever questioned why they are sent out, or are they just doing it for the money? Who are they defending? Who are they killing in foreign countries thousands of miles away from home? I grieve for the loss of young men who have gotten brainwashed into believing that occupying Iraq or any other middle eastern country is what it means to be a soldier defending our homes and country. Even as a conscious objector, I understand the importance of protecting your country or your family from harm, but that is a far cry from the death toll of young American men and women who are being killed abroad because of politics and the money market. I can grieve for their families, and I can mourn for their innocent stupidity when they signed up for serving the empire, and its world policies.
Still, and here I have to pause. The soldier, being a man or a woman, is a particular archetype. It is with us now and back through history to the very root of humanity. The sad reality that humans are destructive creatures who engage in killing each other for 5 acres or less when asked to do so. How to deal with this archetype is really at the bottom of my lifelong question. The sad fact is that there is no answer. Young men go to war and get killed, and older men and women profit for their loss. After the all-powerful have put their money in the bank, they lay flowers on the unknown soldier’s grave, and pictures are taken. At the same time, they make speeches of the enormous sacrifices their fellow citizens' have brought the nation. They put flags on their grave-stones, and afterward, people go to the beaches or their backyards and have hamburgers. At the same time, the song inside my head by Pete Seeger goes, "when will they ever learn, when will they ever learn." It is very sad, because maybe we will never learn. These are my thoughts on the day after Memorial Day.
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