I never really felt right about the war, even before I joined the army.

Well, I am 61 now. I was born in 1947. I am one those “boomers” who were born after World War II. That was quite a celebration, I gather. That war shaped my childhood in many ways.

My father and both his brothers fought in it. I was instilled with nationalistic pride, patriotism and the honor and glory of serving in the armed forces.

I was born into an Irish Catholic family in the U.S. I was educated by nuns in a Catholic school, from kindergarten through to 8th grade. “Cleanliness” was next to “Godliness” and so was the fight against “godless communism” during the Korean War (still not over) and the “Cold War” between the Soviet Union and the West.

The next thing I knew we were at war in Vietnam because those Asian commies had attacked one of our warships. No matter that it was in Vietnamese waters, or that the attack never really took place at all. It was a good enough story for the U.S. Congress. They authorized President Johnson to invade Vietnam with thousands of U.S. troops. That was in 1964.

I think I was really destined to be a hippie. I believed in peace and love and layin’ about. By 1965 I was going to college in San Francisco and living in the now famous Haight Ashbury neighborhood. But darned if there wasn’t a draft in the U.S. at the time; you know, when young men get forced into the military whether they like it or not. There were some exceptions, such as student deferments if you stayed in college and kept up your grades, but that just wasn’t the case with me. I dropped out of college to work for a while, so I lost my student deferment. I knew I was going to be drafted, so I went ahead and enlisted. You might say I jumped before I was pushed.

Soon I was in army basic training, running around holding a rifle with a bunch of other poor schmucks. We were chanting, “Kill the gooks! Kill the gooks!” I found this pretty disturbing. When we didn’t perform well, the sergeants would call us various names that had to do with the female anatomy. This was pretty disturbing too. But I kept up with my training, what else could I do?

I trained as a Green Beret medic. We had to be jungle doctors. We could diagnose tropical diseases, administer drugs and treat gunshot wounds. Even perform more radical procedures like tracheotomies and amputations. The medic part of the training alone took a whole year. By that time some of my army buddies were already in Vietnam. The letters they wrote back to us were shocking. They said that U.S. troops were committing atrocities against Vietnamese civilians, including raping, torturing and murdering Vietnamese women. I heard these stories from returning Vietnam veterans too. Some of them were really upset about it. Others were bragging. But they were all telling the same story. I heard enough.

I finally got to be some kind of hippie

I had never felt right about that war, even before I joined the army. The racist, woman-hating army training made me even more suspicious. But when I heard the veteran’s stories, I knew I could not be part of that war. So I publicly announced that I would refuse all military orders. Then the army ordered me to go to Vietnam. I refused. The army court-martialed me and sentenced me to ten years in prison. But I escaped. I fled the U.S. and went first to Montreal, then Europe and eventually to Sweden, which was a safe haven for U.S. deserters and draft resisters.

After three years, I came back to Canada. I lived in Vancouver and Toronto. I loved Canada. I made many friends with Canadian and U.S. war resisters like me. It was a wonderful time in my life. I finally got to be some kind of hippie. I grew long hair and a beard. I practiced “free love” (practice makes perfect). And I tasted some of the “devils weed.” Not bad.

In both Sweden and Canada I was involved in lots of activism. Along with my fellow deserters and draft resisters, I organized against the war, which continued until 1975, although President Nixon withdrew U.S. troops in 1973.

We also organized for amnesty in the states for all war resisters. We said that nobody should be punished for refusing to be part of an illegal, immoral war. In 1975 I returned to the U.S. as part of the campaign for amnesty. I had so much support that the army had to drop my jail sentence. When Jimmy Carter became president in January 1977, his first act was to pardon draft resisters and establish a program that allowed AWOL soldiers to return and be discharged from the military.

Now you can see why I titled this article “Déjà vu all over again.”

The U.S. government did not learn the lessons of Vietnam. They are still trying to dominate the world with military force. President Bush and his wealthy friends decided they would like to reshape the Middle East in their own image, and while they are at it, also control as much oil as they could get their hands on. So they invaded Iraq in March 2003 and are still occupying it almost six years later. Over 4,000 young Americans have died in that war, along with as many as one million Iraqis. It is a horrible nightmare. Ask a soldier who has been there.

Just like in Vietnam, the White House told some Big Lies to justify this war. But Iraq had nothing to do with Al-Qaeda or the terrorist attacks of 9-11. This is not a war of self-defense, it is a war of aggression that was not approved by the United Nations. Most people now realize this is an illegal war and occupation.

Inevitably, some soldiers started to see the truth and resist. Thousands have deserted. Most of them are in the U.S. but a couple hundred have come to Canada. They had heard that Canada was a place where soldiers of conscience could go. After all, as many as 50,000 Vietnam War resisters came to Canada (the number has been estimated to be 100,000 people or more but includes spouses and family members). Thirty thousand of them are now Canadian citizens.

But things have not been quite so easy for Iraq War resisters. Canadian immigration laws are more restrictive. And the Canadian government is more interested in being friends with George Bush than with young men and women who are fleeing an illegal war. Iraq War resisters have had to apply to stay in Canada as political refugees. This is not easy. So far no war resister has been granted this status.

But the Canadian people have been great. According to recent polls, 64 per cent of Canadians think the war resisters should be allowed to remain in Canada. In June 2008 the House of Commons passed a motion calling on the government to end all deportation proceedings and to allow the war resisters to immigrate to Canada. All three opposition parties united to pass this motion. But the minority Conservative government has ignored it. In July 2008 the Canadian government deported an AWOL soldier back to the U.S. He is now serving a 15-month sentence in a military prison because he refused to kill in an illegal war. Several other U.S. war resisters, both men and women, are facing deportation, along with their young children.

The War Resisters Support Campaign is doing everything possible to help those seeking refugee asylum in Canada. This national network of activists, artists, churches and unions raises money to help with legal expenses. They help the war resisters find housing and jobs. They organize political support. And they give the war resisters lots of moral support.

Die trying

This is where the circle of history gets very interesting for older folks like me. Many people my age who were war resisters in the ‘60s and ‘70s are actively supporting this new generation of resisters. Some of the activists in the War Resisters Support Campaign were themselves once young and homeless war resisters. This is true in the States as well. Many Vietnam veterans are now in organizations like Veterans For Peace, and they totally support Iraq War resisters.

This is righteous, and only natural, but there is something very special about it for those of us who have been there. Supporting these young people of conscience brings out the best in us. It also brings our own history to life, which is no small thing. Just a few years ago, some of us old war resisters were complaining that nobody remembers our story. It was not relevant anymore. Nobody cared. Now, nothing could be further from the truth. Our experiences are constantly being compared and contrasted with the struggle of the young war resisters today.

Older war resisters are coming out of the woodwork to rediscover their common bonds. The defining moment of our lives, the decision to resist illegal war and illegitimate authority, has been rekindled.

This has been very special for me. It has given me a sense of purpose. I now have a whole crew of new friends. And I know my story is one that will be listened to. Also, I have a lot of young friends now, Iraq veterans and war resisters, whom I feel I know very well. It’s sad that it took another horrible war to bring us together. But by making common cause, we may still be able to achieve a just and peaceful world. Or we will die trying.