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An AWOL Navy man was arrested ... as he brought his pregnant wife to the
hospital.... Roberto Carlos Navarro, 20, of Polk City [Florida] was
charged as a deserter from the U.S. Navy.... Navarro became disenchanted
with the constant painting and scraping of ships after two years in the
Navy.
-- The Ledger, April 2, 2004

A 17-year-old was turned over to the Department of Defense last week after
Bellingham police discovered the teenager, involved in a traffic accident,
was allegedly a deserter from Army basic training.
-- The Boston Globe, August 12, 2004

I am seriously considering becoming a deserter. I am sorry if there are
other military moms ... that look poorly on me for thinking this way but
... I WILL NOT LEAVE MY LITTLE BABY.
-- Online post to BabyCenter.com, November 21, 2004

------------

http://snipurl.com/dmj9

AWOL in America:
When desertion is the only option

by Kathy Dobie
Harper's Magazine
February 23, 2005
(March 1, 2005 edition)

AWOL, French Leave, the Grand Bounce, jumping ship, going over the hill�
in every country, in every age, whenever and wherever there has been a
military, there have been soldiers discharging themselves from the ranks.
The Pentagon has estimated that since the start of the current conflict in
Iraq, more than 5,500 U.S. military personnel have deserted, and yet we
know the stories of only a unique handful, all whom have publicly stated
their opposition to the war in Iraq, and some of whom have fled to Canada.
The Vietnam war casts a long shadow, distorting our image of the deserter;
four soldiers have gone over the Canadian border, looking for the safe
haven of the Vietnam years, which no longer exists: there are no open arms
for such refugees and almost no possibility of obtaining legal status. We
imagine 5,500 conscientious objectors to a bloody quagmire, soldiers like
Staff Sergeant Camilo Mejia, who strongly and eloquently protested the
Iraq war, having actually served there and witnessed civilians killed and
prisoners abused, and who was subsequently court-martialed, found guilty
of desertion, and given a year in prison. But deserters rarely leave for
purely political reasons. They usually just quietly return home and hope
no one notices.

Last summer, I read a news account of a twenty-one-year-old man caught by
the police climbing through the window of a house. It turned out to be his
house, but the cops found out he was AWOL from the Army and arrested him.
That story, in all its recognizable, bungling humanity, intrigued me. It
brought the truth of governments waging war home to me in a way that
stories of combat had not�in particular, how the ambitions and desires of
powerful men and women are borne by ordinary people: restless scrapers and
tomboys from West Virginia, teenage immigrants from Mexico, and juvenile
delinquents from Indiana; randy boys and girls, and callous ones; the
stoic, the idealist, the aimless, the boastful and the bewildered; the
highly adventurous and the deeply conformist. They carry the weight.

After reading the story of the AWOL soldier sneaking into his own house, I
contacted the G.I. Rights hot line, a national referral and counseling
service for military personnel, and on August 23, 2004, I interviewed
Robert Dove, a burly, bearded Quaker, in the Boston offices of the
American Friends Service Committee, one of the groups involved with the
hot line. Dove told me of getting frantic calls from the parents of
recruits, and of recruits who are so appalled by basic training that they
"can't eat, they literally vomit every time they put a spoon to their
mouths, they're having nightmares and wetting their beds." Down in Chatham
County, North Carolina, Steve and Lenore Woolford answer calls from the
hot line in their home. Steve was most haunted by the soldiers who want
out badly but who he can tell are not smart or self-assured enough to
accomplish it; the ones who ask the same questions over and over again and
want to know exactly what to say to their commanding officer. The G.I.
Rights hot line introduced me to deserters willing to talk, and those
soldiers put me in contact with others.

I met my first deserters in early September and over the next four months
followed some of them through the process of turning themselves in and
getting released from the military. They came from Indiana, Oregon,
Washington, California, Georgia, Connecticut, New York, and Massachusetts.
I met with the mother and sister of a Marine who was UA (Unauthorized
Absence, the Navy and Marine term for AWOL) in the mother's home in Alto,
Georgia, and at the Quantico base in Virginia one Sunday afternoon I met
with eight deserters returned to military custody, members of the Casualty
Platoon, as the Marines refer to them, since they are "lost combatants."
One of the AWOL soldiers, Jeremiah Adler, offered to show me the letters
he had written home from boot camp; a Marine called with weekly reports
from Quantico where he awaited his court-martial or administrative
release. Through these soldiers, and the counselors at the G.I. Rights hot
line, I discovered that the recruiting process and the training were keys
to understanding why soldiers desert, as is an overextended Army's
increasingly strong grip on them.

Since the mid-1990s, the Army has been quietly struggling with a manpower
crisis, as the number of desertions steadily climbed from 1,509 in 1995 to
4,739 in 2001. During this time, deserters rarely faced court-martial or
punishment. The vast majority�94 percent of the 12,000 soldiers who
deserted between I997 and 2001�were simply released from the Army with
other-than-honorable discharges. Then, in the fall of 2001, shortly after
9/11, the U.S. Army issued a new policy regarding deserters, hoping to
staunch the flow. Under the new rules, which were given little media
attention, deserters were to be returned to their original military units
to be evaluated and, when possible, integrated back into the ranks. It was
not a policy that made the hearts of Army officers sing. As one company
commander told DefenseWatch, an online newsletter for the grass-roots
organization Soldiers For The Truth, "I can't afford to baby-sit problem
children every day."

According to DefenseWatch, in the first few months after the policy went
into effect, 190 deserters were returned to military control, 89 of those
were returned to the ranks, and 101 were discharged. Statistics at the end
of the military fiscal year showed the desertion numbers dropping
slightly, due, at least in part, to the new policy, which reintegrated
almost half the runaways back into their units. It wasn't that fewer
people were leaving the military, just that fewer people were able to stay
gone.

Then we invaded Iraq, and as the war there rages on, the military has had
to evacuate an estimated 50,000 troops: the dead and the wounded, combat-
and non-combat-related casualties. Those soldiers must be replaced�and
we're committed to sending in even more. The pressure to hold on to as
many troops as possible has only increased, as is painfully evident in
internal memos such as this one from Major General Claude A. Williams of
the Army National Guard, dated May 2004: "Effective immediately, I am
holding commanders at all levels accountable for controlling manageable
losses." The memo goes on to say that commanders must retain at least 85
percent of soldiers who are scheduled to end their active duty, 90 percent
of soldiers scheduled to ship for Initial Entry Training, and "execute the
AWOL recovery procedures for every AWOL soldier." The military has issued
stop-loss orders, dug deep into the ranks of reservists and guardsmen,
extended tours of duty, and made it harder for recruits and active-duty
personnel to get out through administrative means. According to the
military's own research, this will result in more people going AWOL.

In the summer of 2002, the U.S. Army Research Institute for the Behavioral
and Social Sciences released a study titled "What We Know About AWOL and
Desertion." "Although the problem of AWOL/desertion is fairly constant, it
tends to increase in magnitude during wartime�when the Army tends to
increase its demands for troops and to lower its enlistment standards to
meet that need. It can also increase during times, such as now, when the
Army is attempting to restrict the ways that soldiers can exit service
through administrative channels." In other words, close the door, and they
will leave by the window.

At the G.I. Rights hot line, the desperation is obvious; the number of
people calling in for help has almost doubled from 17,000 in 200I to
33,000 in the last year. The majority of the calls are from people who
want out of the military�soldiers with untreated injuries or urgent family
problems, combat veterans who have developed a deep revulsion to war,
National Guardsmen primed to deal with hurricanes, blizzards, and floods
but not fighting overseas, and inactive reservists who have already
served, started families and careers, and never expected to be called up
again. And there are recruits�many, many recruits�who have decided, in a
sentiment heard hundreds of times by the people manning the phones, "The
Army's just not for me." Some of these callers were thinking about going
AWOL; others had already left and wanted to know what could happen to them
and what they should do next.

Soldiers who go AWOL have either panicked and see no other way out of
their difficulties or are well-informed and know that deserting is
sometimes the quickest, surest route out of the military. A soldier may
not be eligible for a hardship or medical discharge, for instance, but he
knows he wants out. He may not even be aware of the discharges available
to him. Young, raw recruits, in particular, know only what their drill
sergeants tell them. Counselors at the G.I. Rights hot line describe cases
in which a recruit will ask about applying for a discharge and be told
flatly by his drill sergeant, "Forget about it. Don't even think of
applying. You're not getting out." Conscientious-objector applications
have more than tripled since operations began in Iraq, but they take on
average a year and a half to process, and then, quite often, are denied.

In the Army study, which examined data from World War II, Korea, Vietnam,
and the years 1997-2001, it was found that deserters are more likely to be
younger when they enlist, less educated, to come from "broken homes," and
to have "engaged in delinquent behavior" prior to enlisting. In other
words, they are both vulnerable and rebellious. During the Vietnam war,
enlisted men were far more likely to desert than those who were drafted.
Perhaps they had higher expectations of Army life, or perhaps a man who
volunteers for service feels like he has some sense of control over his
fate, a feeling a draftee could hardly share. Only 12 percent of the
Vietnam-era deserters left specifically because of the war, according to
the same study. Then, as now, most soldiers take off because of family
problems, financial difficulties, and what the Army obliquely calls
"failure to adapt" to military life and "issues with chain of command."
Almost all of the deserters I spoke to described the kind of person they
thought succeeded in the military as "an alpha male type who can take
orders real well," as one Marine put it. "If you can't do both? Don't
join." Physical aggression and mental docility might seem an unlikely
pairing, but as the military historian Gwynne Dyer wrote in his book
titled, simply, War, "Basic training has been essentially the same in
every army in every age, because it works with the same raw material
that's always there in teenage boys: a fair amount of aggression, a strong
tendency to hang around in groups, and an absolute desperate desire to fit
in."



It's hard for me to be myself here. There's no room for dissent among the
guys. Everywhere you listen you hear an abundant amount of B.S., a few
beds over an obnoxious redneck has a crowd around him as he details a 3
some that he recently had. The vocabulary is much different here. The
bathroom is called the latrine, food is called chow, women are hitches,
sex is ass. . . . These people want to go to war and kill. It is that
simple."

�From a letter home,
Jeremiah Adler

Jeremiah Adler arrives at my door in Brooklyn in late September, four days
after he escaped Fort Benning, Georgia, with another Army recruit. At ten
at night, while a friend on guard duty looked the other way, the boys took
off out of the barracks, making a thirty-yard dash into the surrounding
forest. They had no clue as to where they were. After an hour they heard
sirens blasting, and then the baying of dogs. They spent five hours in the
woods, following a bright patch in the sky that they rightly assumed to be
the city of Columbus. When they finally reached the road, they saw cop
cars zipping past them, lights flashing in the dark. It was terribly
exciting, though the morning he arrives at my house he seems spent.
Jeremiah and I had spoken for the first time the day before. He was hiding
out at a friend's house in Atlanta, ready to hop the next plane home to
Portland, Oregon, but he agreed to meet with me in New York first.

Jeremiah is slight, and his blue-green eyes seem unusually large, though
that could be the effect of his shorn head. He has full lips and a
fine-boned face that could easily become gaunt. He's eighteen, a deeply
earnest eighteen, with a dry sense of humor. He has an odd habit for
someone so young of sighing often, and wearily. He's also very hungry. We
order a cheese pizza because he does not eat meat.

When Jeremiah announced his intention to join the military he took
everyone who knew him in Portland by surprise. "He was raised in a
pacifist, macrobiotic house," his mother exclaims. "He went to Waldorf
schools. Here is a kid who's never even had a bite of animal flesh in his
life!" Jeremiah had protested the Iraq war, in fact. He spent most of his
senior year in high school convincing his family and what he and his
mother call his "community"�a tightly knit group of families connected by
the Portland Waldorf School and Rudolf Steiner's nontraditional philosophy
of education�that joining the military was the right thing for him to do.

In the spring of his senior year, Jeremiah went on a "vision quest,"
hiking into an area called Eagle Creek, which was still covered in snow.
There he made a video explaining his reasons for joining the Army. He sits
on the ground facing the camera but looking off into the woods as he
talks. He starts by making a case for the military being a tool for
change, a possible force for good. But, "if you have a bunch of
bloodthirsty young men with an I.Q. of twenty-three in the military,
that's what the military's gonna be�until other people, other intelligent
people with morals and values and convictions and ideals [join up]. Most
people hate the military. Is the answer to distance yourself as far as you
can and just protest all the time? What am I doing? I don't know anyone in
the military. Neither do any of you. It takes a lot more balls for me to
join the military than it does for one of you guys to go to a forty-grand
liberal-arts school. Is that a huge step? You're gonna be around more
open-minded people like yourself. You're not gonna experience any
diversity there."

In this taped explanation he leaves out one reason for joining the Army, a
reason that perhaps was too amorphous to put into words, or too personal,
not something he felt the folks at Waldorf would understand. "My mom was
single until I was eight years old," he tells me. "My entire life I was
raised sensitive and compassionate. I have a craving for a sense of
machoness, honestly. A sense of toughness." He remembers the first time he
thought the military was "cool"�watching Top Gun at ten years old. Then in
his senior year of high school, the recruiting commercials became a siren
call. "I mean, it's an ingenious marketing campaign. It goes straight to
an eighteen-year-old male's testosterone. You see them and you're almost
sexually aroused," he says. He wanted to kick past the cocoon of family
and community, to know how other people thought and lived. He wanted a
coming-of-age ritual�his vision quest, which had ended with the insight
"solitude sucks," didn't quite fill the bill. He wanted to become a man.
Jeremiah took a year convincing his friends, family, and community, and
yet within seventy-two hours of arriving at Fort Benning he was writing a
letter home that began, "Hello All, You have got to get me out of here."



The recruits arrived at Reception Battalion at Fort Benning on September
16 close to midnight, completely disoriented. During the next seven days
they were introduced to military life: First, their heads were shaved, a
ritual that signifies the loss of one's individual identity, and was
historically used to control lice and identify deserters. Then the
recruits were issued boots, gear, and military I.D. They were taught how
to march and stand at attention, made to recite the Soldier's Creed again
and again, yelled at, incited, insulted, and then shipped to basic
training; that is, put on a bus and sent to a training barracks at another
location in Fort Benning.

The first day of Reception, the recruits should have been so busy and
harassed that they wouldn't have had time for second thoughts or regrets,
but Hurricane Ivan was sweeping through Georgia, and they were confined to
their barracks�104 young men, all keyed up, all on edge, about to embark
on some mysterious journey, some awesome transformation that involved
uniforms, mud, and guns. There was a constant jockeying for power, fights
narrowly averted, a lot of enthusiasm for battle, for killing, or at least
the pretense of enthusiasm. When Jeremiah suggested it might be better to
wound someone than to kill him, he was quickly put in his place. "Fuck
that. I'm putting two in the chest, one in the head just like I'm going to
be trained to do."

The men in the barracks were whiter, poorer, and less educated than
Jeremiah had expected. Guys who could barely read were astonished that
Jeremiah had enlisted even though he'd been accepted at the University of
Oregon. Skin-heads, exskinheads perhaps (since active participation by
soldiers in extremist groups is prohibited), showed off their tattoos�one
had been told by his recruiter to say that his swastika tattoo was a
"force directional signal." There were guys who had done jail time, though
Jeremiah quickly adds, "Not that they're bad people by any means, but it
kind of shows you the type of person they're recruiting."

The next day, a sergeant addressed the recruits with a speech that
Jeremiah says he'll never forget. "You know, when I joined the Army nine
years ago people would always ask me why I joined. Did I do it for college
money? Did I do it for women? People never understood. I wanted to join
the Army because I wanted to go shoot motherfuckers." The room erupted in
hoots and hollers. A drill sergeant said something about an Iraqi coming
up to them screaming, "Ah-la-la-la-la!" in a high-pitched voice, and how
he would have to be killed. After that, all Arabs were referred to by this
battle cry�the ah-la-la-la-las. In the barracks, they played war. One
recruit would come out of the shower wearing a towel on his head,
screaming, "Ah-la-la-la-la!" and the other recruits would pretend to shoot
him dead. Jeremiah thought, "Oh my God, what am I doing here?"

That evening he wrote his first letter home, beginning with the word "Wow."

"I'm horrified by some of the things that they talk about. If you were in
the civilian world and openly talked about killing people you would be an
outcast, but here people openly talk about it, like it's going to be fun."
In his second letter, written while he was doing guard duty, he tells his
parents how sad the barracks are at night. "You can hear people trying to
make sure no one hears them cry under their covers."

On his third day, Jeremiah went to one of the drill sergeants and told
him, "I'm sorry, the military's not for me. For whatever reason, I'm not
willing to kill. I had the idealistic view that it was more than that, and
I realize, since coming here, that it's not." The sergeant stared at him.
"Do you know what would happen if you came in here and talked to me fifty,
a hundred years ago?"

"Yeah, but we're not living back then," Jeremiah replied. The sergeant
said that was a shame, because if he had a 9-millimeter pistol, he'd shoot
Jeremiah right then and there. The sergeant dared Jeremiah to refuse to
ship, saying he would be sent to jail, that he, personally, would make an
example of him.

So Jeremiah cooked up a plan with another unhappy recruit to pretend they
were gay. That plan went about as badly as it could have�five drill
sergeants questioned them, called them disgusting perverts, but refused to
discharge either Jeremiah or his friend. Jeremiah was now stuck in one of
the most macho and homophobic environments as a gay man, or, more
bewilderingly, as a fake gay man. He had tried to get help from the
military chaplain, who cited Bible passages proving that God was against
murder, not killing, and told Jeremiah that Iraqis were running up to
American troops requesting Bibles.

In his last letter home, written on his sixth day, Jeremiah's handwriting
disintegrates; "HELP ME" is scrawled across one page. He was due to ship
to basic training in the morning. He had decided to refuse. "I've heard
that they try to intimidate you, ganging up on you, threatening you. I
heard that they will throw your bags on the bus, and almost force you on.
See what I am up against? I have nothing on my side.... I am so fucked up
right now. ... I feel that if I stay here much longer I am not going to be
the same person anymore. I have to GO. Please help.... Every minute you
sit at home I am stuck in a shithole, stripped of self-respect, pride,
will, hope, love, faith, worth, everything. Everything I have ever held
dear has been taken away. This fucks with your head. . . . This makes you
believe you ARE worthless shit. Please help. By the time you get this,
things will be worse."

After getting some information from his mother on a secretive call home,
Jeremiah wrote a letter requesting Entry Level Separation from the Army,
citing his aversion to killing. Entry Level Separation, which exists for
the convenience of the Army, allows for the discharge of soldiers who are
obviously not cut out for military service. The Army has to provide an
exit route for inept, unhealthy, depressed, even suicidal soldiers, but at
the same time it doesn't want to open what might turn out to be
floodgates, so soldiers cannot themselves apply for ELS, and rarely even
know about its existence. The Reception Battalion commander told Jeremiah
that if he refused to ship, he would do everything in his power to
court-martial him. Then the drill sergeants had their turn. One in
particular was apoplectic. "He started screaming at me about how killing
is the ultimate thrill in life and every single man wants to kill.
Regardless of what you think you believe, it's every man's job to kill,
it's the greatest high, it's our animal instinct, our animal desire."

When he refused to ship (he locked his duffel bag to his bed so it
couldn't be thrown on the bus), Jeremiah was sent to Excess Barracks.
About twenty other recruits were there, each of them trying to get out. It
was at Excess Barracks that Jeremiah first got the idea to go AWOL,
because there were people there who had done it already. On his ninth day
at Fort Benning, he and another recruit, Ryan Gibson, decided to leave.
They got all suited up�"a Rambo-like moment" is how Jeremiah describes it.
"I'm not gonna lie, we were really excited," he says. "We were finally
going to be able to go out into the woods and do something. Even if the
only commando stuff we ever did in our entire Army career was escaping
from the Army, we were still excited about it."

When Ryan arrived home in Indiana, his mother threatened to report him to
the police unless he returned to Fort Benning. So Ryan did return, but he
left again two days later, this time taking two other recruits with him.
When Jeremiah arrived home in Portland, he told his mother, "Well, Mom, I
guess I'm going to have to find a different way to become a man besides
learning to kill."

continued...

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