The American Enlisted Man

TIIE AMERICAN El

The Rank and File in Today’s Military

Charles C. Moskos, Jr.

Russell Sage Foundation, New York 1970 U766 jritXo

Publications of Russell Sage Foundation Russell Sage Foundation was established in 1907 by Mrs. Russell Sage for the improvement of social and living conditions in the United States. In carrying out its purpose the Foundation conducts research under the direction of members of the staff or in close collaboration with other institutions, and supports programs designed to develop and demonstrate productive working relations between social scientists and other professional groups. As an integral part of its operations, the Foundation from time to time publishes books or pamphlets resulting from these activities. Publication under the imprint of the Foundation does not necessarily imply agreement by the Foundation, its Trustees, or its staff with the inter¬ pretations or conclusions of the authors.

© 1970 by Russell Sage Foundation Designed by Bennett Robinson Printed in the United States of America by Connecticut Printers, Inc., Hartford, Connecticut Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 77-96113 Standard Book Number: 607-8

Contents

ix Acknowledgments

1 Chapter 1: Images of Enlisted Life

37 Chapter 2: The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military

64 Chapter 3: The Enlisted Culture

78 Chapter U: The Overseas Serviceman

108 Chapter 5: Racial Relations in the Armed Forces

134 Chapter 6: Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam

157 Chapter 7: The War and the Gi

166 Chapter 8: The Emergent Military Establishment

183 A Personal Statement

188 Appendix 1: Military Pay Grades and Rank Titles

190 Appendix 2: The NORC Manpower Survey Sample

193 Tables

231 Notes

249 Bibliography

263 Index

vii

Acknowledgments

Many men who have served in the armed forces have thought at one time or another how they would like to write a book about the military. This wish came true for me only because of the unanticipated and generous assistance I received from numer¬ ous persons. John B. Spore, senior editor of Army magazine, by desig¬ nating me as a correspondent allowed for my virtual complete access to American soldiers throughout the world. But more important, Spore’s personal blend of humanistic values and informed understanding of the military organization have greatly influenced my own thinking. It has also been through the concern of John Spore that other researchers of the military establishment have been advised and have been able to carry out their work. The dedication of this volume to Spore, a former enlisted man himself, is belated acknowledgment of the debt social science owes him. Roger W. Little was the first person to encourage me pro¬ fessionally to get on with the study. Since then I have relied exorbitantly on Little’s remarkable insights on the sociology of the military in all phases of the writing of this book. Through¬ out the preparation of this study, I have argued with and learned much from Morris Janowitz. His own landmark work on the armed forces and society continues to be a model for my own efforts. Philip M. Timpane, staff assistant for civil rights, Depart¬ ment of Defense, gave counsel and made data available on racial matters in the armed services. My dealings with military personnel at all levels was made possible by the extraordinary cooperation of military information officers and noncom¬ missioned officers, men who perform a difficult task with both efficiency and good humor. In particular, I was fortunate in Vietnam to make a friend of Master Sergeant (now retired)

ix Acknowledgments

Donald Pratt. In the proverbial manner of the noncom, Pratt was always able to arrange transportation and other material amenities to suit the needs of the moment. For their valuable suggestions to improve the manuscript, I am indebted to Howard S. Becker, Joseph A. Blake, Thomas R. Brennan, Robert C. Carroll, Hugh F. Cline, and Esequiel Sevilla, Jr. Renate Ayers not only efficiently typed a manuscript given to her in bits and pieces, but was also able to correct many of my malapropisms. The basic financial support for this study was given by the Inter-University Seminar on Armed Forces and Society spon¬ sored by the Russell Sage Foundation. The Inter-University Seminar is an ongoing enterprise that seeks to encourage sustained and systematic studies of military institutions, a research area commanding the interests of too few social scientists. A 1965 field trip to Germany, Korea, and Vietnam was made possible by a travel grant given by the University of Michigan. In 1966 and 1967, the Council for Intersocietal Stud¬ ies of Northwestern University made funds available for travel and research expenses to the Dominican Republic and return trips to Germany and Vietnam. It should also be noted that a major portion of the initial research expenses of this study was paid for out of my own pocket. Finally, and most important, deep thanks is due to those men of the 173rd Airborne Brigade, 82nd Airborne Division, and First Infantry Division with whom I lived during the field research. The otherwise nostalgic memory of the comradely reception these soldiers accorded a visiting professor is over¬ come by the fact that some never lived to return home. It must be stressed that the usual caveat that the author alone accepts responsibility for the interpretations and con¬ clusions is especially relevant in this study. Indeed, I doubt if there is another person who would be in complete agreement with what I have written.

x Images of Enlisted Life

God must love enlisted men, He made so many of them. —an anonymous Gi

Whatever God’s feelings on the matter, this parody of Lincoln’s remark accurately captures the commonness of the enlisted experience. Of some 3,500,000 American men in uniform in 1969, over 3,000,000 were serving as enlisted men. Of the over 26,000,000 living Americans who are veterans of military serv¬ ice, at least 23,000,000 were enlisted men. Put another way, about one-half of all adult American males have been in the armed forces with close to 90 per cent of them spending their entire military service in the enlisted ranks. It is not surprising, then, that the American enlisted man has come to form a durable image in our culture. Like other stereotypes, popular portrayals of enlisted men, such as the heroic fighting man or the happy-go-lucky garrison soldier, distort as much as they reveal. But enlisted stereotypes also offer a valuable and even necessary insight into the makeup and operation of the military establishment. For an overview of how the enlisted man has fared as a social type takes us part way in understanding the role of the rank and file in the mili¬ tary system as well as telling us much about the enlisted man’s position in American society. Nearly all images of enlisted life, historical and contem¬ porary, share in common a portrayal of men isolated from civilian controls and expectations. This aspect of the enlisted stereotype—the fully institutionalized quality of military life— goes back at least to the nineteenth century and undoubtedly has antecedents much further removed in time. But it is more in the changes of enlisted images, rather than in the conti¬ nuities, that we begin to discern significant ways in which

1 The American Enlisted Man variations in the structure of military organization and shifts in the nature of civil-military relations have affected the en¬ listed experience. And these changing stereotypes often high¬ light many of the more detailed findings given in the later chapters. Even in the relatively short time since the start of the Second World War, one can observe four different and more or less discrete portrayals of the enlisted man. The first period includes the years immediately preceding World War II, the actual war years, and the years immediately following the con¬ flict. A second period begins with the Korean War (1950) and ends in the middle 1950s. This is followed by a Cold War period which for our purposes can be dated from the middle 1950s through the early 1960s (although, of course, the Cold War historically speaking predates the Korean War and persists into the present). The current or Vietnam period starts from about 1964 and continues into the time of this writing (1969). In each of these periods, the mission of the military required different emphases. This in turn resulted in different kinds of modal enlisted experiences and corresponding changes in portrayals of enlisted men. These image shifts have been somewhat uniform even though coming from vantage points as diverse as movies, novels, cartoons, the writings of social commentators, and social science analyses of survey findings.

World War II. In 1939 there were approximately 340,000 men in the armed forces of the United States. By June, 1941—six months before Pearl Harbor—American mobilization was well under way and military strength reached 1,800,000 men. Once the United States entered World War II the largest military force in our history was rapidly established, and by the close of the war in 1945 over 12,000,000 persons were in uniform. Following the war’s end, there was a considerable drop in military strength as demobilization proceeded apace. In 1946 there were 3,000,000 persons in the armed forces, and from 1947 to 1950 the figure hovered around 1,500,000. The years of mass mobilization in World War II, however, shaped many of the images of military life that still persist.

2 Images of Enlisted Life

A perennial staple in our mass culture has been the drama¬ tization of the war exploits, either real or imagined, of the American serviceman. In particular, Hollywood movies dealing with World War II—almost always produced with the logistical and material cooperation of the Defense Department—have shaped many popular notions of what military service and combat are really like. It is noteworthy that, a quarter-century after its end, the Second World War still constitutes the con¬ ventional setting for war movies. Equally revealing, combat dramas on television deal exclusively with World War II. Un¬ like the subsequent wars in Korea and Vietnam, the Second World War had a clarity of purpose and clear-cut resolution which probably accounts for its continuing portrayal in the mass media. It may not be so surprising, therefore, to learn that a 1963 study found that third-grade school children be¬ lieved the major enemies of the United States to be Germany and Japan.1 Like the Western movie, the World War II movie has de¬ veloped conventions of its own. First we see a group of awk¬ ward recruits undergoing the rigors of combat training. The cadre has nothing but disdain for the trainees whose individual¬ istic traits counter the demands of military routine. After completion of training, the unit is informed that its mission is to overcome a heavily defended enemy position. The outcome of the battle will affect the course of the war. After heavy losses the position is taken. The remnant, now battle-hardened, has been transformed from a group of heterogeneous indi¬ viduals into an effective and cohesive combat team. In a coda, new replacements arrive and are subjected to the same disdain by the original group that it had experienced earlier. A two- decade sampling of representatives of this plot and its varia¬ tions are: The Story of G.I. Joe (1944), Sands of Iwo Jima (1949), Battle Cry (1954), To Hell and Back (1955), D Day (1962), Battle of the Bulge (1966), and The Devil’s Brigade (1968). Although none of these movies received critical ac¬ claim, each has been a major box-office hit. World War II novels have also been a mainstay of Ameri¬ can literary production. Unlike the conventional stereotypes of

3 The American Enlisted Man the mass media, however, novelists have characteristically given more cynical and grim accounts of military life. Although it must be kept in mind that war novelists are neither his¬ torians nor average soldiers, their special sensitivities and talents enrich our knowledge of military life. Though only a handful of war novels have been subject to much critical dis¬ cussion—most notably, Norman Mailer’s The Naked and the Dead and James Jones’ From Here to Eternity—they have had, like their movie and television counterparts, a wide popular following. Each writer’s picture of the military is unique; nevertheless, as Malcolm Cowley shows in his essay on Ameri¬ can war novels, there are recurring themes which together present a consistent picture of the serviceman and his adapta¬ tion to military life.2 A composite sketch of the World War II servicemen as seen by the novelists is as follows. The soldier is a civilian in uni¬ form for whom the war is a temporary and nasty interruption in his life. (With the notable exception of From Here to Eternity, rarely is there a sympathetic account of the career serviceman.) The soldier’s interim code of morality is directed toward momentary gratifications—gettingdrunk, having sex, keeping alive, and staying out of trouble. In combat the soldier has a high regard for the enemy’s fighting abilities, but an even higher one for his own military prowess. Despite the ever¬ present fear of being killed, he performs his combat role well, if cautiously. In garrison—particularly in rear-areas overseas and in the postwar occupation—the soldier’s interests lead to pleasures of the flesh. Although basically a decent person, he is nevertheless prone to personal corruption. Civilian foreign¬ ers play only an incidental part in the soldier’s experience and then usually in hostile or instrumental terms. There is little if any moral commitment on the part of the American serviceman toward his participation in the war. He is unaware or vaguely resentful of official pronouncements on the higher purposes of the conflict. Rather, he is simply waiting the war out. His thoughts are with day-to-day frustrations rather than ideological issues. When characters appear who are overtly anti-Fascist, they are usually disrupters of group Images of Enlisted Life cohesion and violators of soldierly norms. But despite his non- ideological nature, the American soldier is fundamentally loyal to his country—often to the point of chauvinism. Although an effective soldier, the enlisted man is portrayed as basically antagonistic toward the authoritarian system and regimentation of military life. This diffuse hostility becomes focused on the near-universal enlisted resentment of officer privileges. While the preferential status of officers is the major source of animus, the officers themselves are often pictured as inherently incompetent and career-serving. As Cowley puts it: “Majors continue to be represented as pompous fools, lieu¬ tenant colonels as butchers, generals as heartless villains— ‘And they’re all bastards,’ most of the novelists might be saying.”3 Almost without exception, a leitmotiv in the novels of World War II is the social void that separates officers from enlisted men. The enlisted man’s bitterness toward officers and the for¬ mal system of the military is counterbalanced by his strong informal ties to those in his immediate unit—both noncom¬ missioned officers and lower-ranking enlisted men. And it is the soldier’s strong primary relations with fellow enlisted men that underlie his adaption to military life. In combat and garri¬ son, on ships and airplanes, stateside or overseas, it is within the arena of the small group that the serviceman’s social horizon is defined. Informal norms arising out of small-group relations override distant goals of the larger military organi¬ zation, and completely overshadow incipient ideological con¬ cerns over the ultimate rationale of the war.4 Yet, in a way that has become a cliche, the small military unit becomes a microcosm of American society with an assortment of ethnic, regional, and class types. Reflecting the segregated military of the Second World War, however, black soldiers play no role or only a peripheral one in most white-authored novels. Other records of the enlisted experience in World War II include cartoons, among them the brilliant, bitter-comic car¬ toons of Bill Mauldin. These drawings, which appeared in many Army newspapers and achieved worldwide popularity among servicemen, were later collected in the volume Up Front. Maul-

5 The American Enlisted, Man din’s two main characters—the always unkempt and dead-tired Willie and Joe—were constant illustrations of the confronta¬ tion between enlisted realities and the formal requirements of the military organization. Like the novels, Mauldin’s car¬ toons strongly reflect the castelike distinction between officers and enlisted men. One cartoon in particular makes the point with biting effectiveness. Two officers are looking at a scenic sunset. One turns to the other and says: “Beautiful view. Is there one for enlisted men?” But for Mauldin the ultimate military distinction is between front- and rear-echelon soldiers, regardless of rank. Two cartoons come to mind. In one, a di¬ sheveled enlisted driver and an equally disheveled captain in a jeep are gazing at signs on an Officers Club and an Enlisted Club which specify that ties must be worn. The driver com¬ ments : “To hell with it, sir. Let’s go back to the front.” In the other, a sharp-looking rear-echelon sergeant is astonished at the sloppy dress and posture of Willie and Joe. The caption reads: “He’s right, Joe. When we ain’t fightin’ we should ack like sojers.” Perhaps the most valuable source of information on the World War II serviceman is found in the volumes of The American Soldier by Samuel A. Stouffer and his associates. Never before or since have so many aspects of military life been studied so systematically. During the war the Research Branch of the War Department’s Information and Education Division conducted 300 studies dealing with a broad range of materials on enlisted experiences—largely revolving around the issues of adjustment of soldiers to military life and motiva¬ tion of men in combat. These materials, which included over 600,000 interviews with soldiers, were subsequently analyzed intensely. In their final published form in 1949, the analyses not only presented a comprehensive record of the soldier’s life in World War II, but also served to break new ground in the methodology of social science and to suggest new formulations in sociological theory.5 It would take us far afield to give a de¬ tailed summary of the findings of The American Soldier. What is important, however, is to note that in basic respects the con¬ clusions of Stouffer and his associates corroborate the accounts

6 Images of Enlisted Life given in the qualitative sources already mentioned. In essence, The American Soldier further supports the story of widespread discontent among enlisted men in World War II. There was little acceptance of the military system as a positive good. Indeed, it appears that resentment toward the “caste” system of the Army and the differential treatment of officers and enlisted men generated the strongest feelings about Army life. In table after table, the data show wide discrepancies be¬ tween officer and enlisted attitudes. For example, 74 per cent of enlisted men compared with 23 per cent of officers believed the “Army places too much importance on military courtesy.” On the statement, “When the Army says it will do something the men want, most of the time it ends up by really doing it,” 60 per cent of officers agreed compared with 26 per cent of the enlisted men. Or, 27 per cent of captains contrasted with 82 per cent of enlisted men disagreed with the statement: “An officer will lose the respect of his men if he pals around with them off duty.” The tenor of the gripes indicated in these find¬ ings was succinctly typified by one of the interviewees: “What’s the matter with us enlisted men, are we dogs?” How with all this malcontent among the rank and file could the American soldier give a good account of himself in combat? The answer was not because soldiers believed in the stated purposes of the war. Quite the contrary, Stouffer’s findings revealed a profoundly non-ideological soldier. As Hans Speier writes: “The data in The American Soldier on the personal commitment and on the orientation of soldiers toward the war present a gloomy picture . . . the composite picture leaves no doubt that the American soldier had neither any strong beliefs about national war aims nor a highly developed sense of personal commitment to the war effort.”0 But, in the words of The American Soldier: “The broad picture ... is one of a matter of fact adjustment, with a minimum of idealism or heroics in which the elements which come closest to the conven¬ tional stereotypes of soldier heroism enter through the close solidarity of the combat group.”7 So it is again the primary group that is invoked in explaining effective military performance.

7 The American Enlisted Man

The centrality of the small group as the key motivating factor among combat soldiers in World War II documented in The American Soldier is further supported by accounts of other observers. S.L.A. Marshall, whose techniques of after-battle interviewing and writings on combat have become classic, states in his Men Against Fire: “I hold it to be one of the simplest truths of war that the thing which enables an infantry soldier to keep going with his weapons is the near presence or presumed presence of a comrade. .. . He must have at least some feeling of spiritual unity with him. ... He is sustained by his fellows primarily and by his weapons secondarily.”8 The philosopher J. Glenn Gray, in his penetrating memoirs on combat experiences, writes along similar lines. “This confra¬ ternity of danger and exposure is unequalled in forging links among people of unlike desire and temperament, links that are utilitarian and narrow but no less passionated because of their accidental and general character.”9 Thus, a variety of sources—the mass media, war novels, Mauldin’s cartoons, the empirical data of The American Sol¬ dier, the writings of astute observers—agree on one central point, namely, the overriding importance of primary-group relationships within the broader context of the formal military organization. Despite his undeniable resentment of military servitude, the American enlisted man in World War II was an effective soldier, effective because he was a member of a socially cohesive team.

The Korean War. The experiences of civilians who served in the armed forces during World War II generated a movement for rectification of the many abuses suffered by enlisted men. One direct outcome of this activity was the establishment in 1946 of a special board of the War Department which was to make recommendations on officer-enlisted relationships. This board—commonly identified by the name of its chairman, Air Force Lieutenant General James H. Doolittle—sought to nar¬ row differences in pay, privileges, and even uniforms of en¬ listed men and officers. As the report concluded : “There is a need for a new philosophy in the military order, a policy of

8 Images of Enlisted Life treatment of men, especially in the ranks, in terms of the ad¬ vanced concepts in social thinking. The present system does not permit full recognition of the dignities of man.”10 Largely as a result of the Doolittle Board, major changes were made in improving military justice. These were enacted by Congress in 1950 as the Uniform Code of Military Justice (ucmj) . Under the new code the power of local commanders to use military courts as personal disciplinary weapons was curtailed; suspects were to be advised of their right to counsel; defendants were entitled to full pretrial evidence; review of convictions was automatic; and a military “supreme court” of civilian judges was established—the United States Court of Military Appeals. Indeed, in some ways, the ucmj went further in safeguarding legal rights than did the civilian court system of that time. (The UCMJ underwent its first major revision in 1969. The full import of these reforms is yet to be assessed.) In other than judicial respects, however, most of the recom¬ mendations of the Doolittle Board were ignored, for example, eliminate the terms “officers” and “enlisted men” and substitute the term “soldier” for everyone; reduce privileges for officers and remove discrimination against enlisted men ; abolish the salute off-base; abolish rules that forbid social association between officers and enlisted men. Nevertheless, there was a widespread view, especially in Army circles, that military discipline had been severely eroded by the Doolittle Board. In fact, however, when the Korean War broke out in 1950, the enlisted man occupied a position within the military organiza¬ tion basically the same as that of his World War II counter¬ part. Yet it is within the context of the presumed deterioration in military authority that we are able to understand some of the reasons which facilitated the eventual characterization of many American soldiers in Korea. The seesaw course of the Korean War and its eventual termination in a stalemate contributed to a general mood of dissatisfaction on the part of the American public. Moreover, unlike World War II, the war in Korea never resulted in total mobilization. At the height of the Korean buildup in 1952, less than 3,700,000 Americans were in uniform. Where the Second

9 The American Enlisted Man

World War brought a large majority of military-age men into the armed forces, military service in the Korean War did not become the modal generational experience of young men in the early 1950s. Further, because of the operation of the Selective Service System and the manpower allocation policies of the armed services, the bulk of ground combat forces was mainly drawn from lower socioeconomic groups. Also at home, things went on pretty much as usual. The American public was never to feel the effects of the war in Korea in any way resem¬ bling their involvement in World War II. Nevertheless, the Korean War was one of America’s major wars and it had im¬ portant consequences on stereotypes of military organization and American servicemen. The hallmark of mass media portrayals of the Korean War was to be a direct reflection of that war’s political and military ambiguity. Hollywood movies depict somber small-unit en¬ gagements having apparently little strategic impact on the outcome of the war, for example, The Steel Helmet (1951), Fixed Bayonets (1951), Pork Chop Hill (1959), and All the Young Men (1960). Unlike the World War II films, combat in Korea is cinematically described as totally grim with little heroic compensation. Indeed, in striking contrast with the movies dealing with the Second World War, heroic behavior in Korea is itself directly criticized in War Hunt (1962), Men in War (1962), The Hook (1963), and War Is Hell (1965). Yet in all these movies, the American soldier is still pictured as an effective, though dispassionate, fighting man. The novelists of the Korean War are similarly pessimistic and grim in describing the war, but likewise are not critical of the actual fighting man. Despite victoryless combat and the frustrations of the military regimen, the infantrymen bear up to the war’s hardships. As was true for the writers of World War II, the novelists of the war in Korea are concerned with distinctions between officers and enlisted men. In Jere Pea¬ cock’s To Drill and Die, the democratic arguments of a junior officer are met by his senior’s rejoinder: “Your theory of giving enlisted men knowledge is all wrong. As officers, we have to see enlisted men as beasts at bay. If not, they’ll run over us.

10 Images of Enlisted Life

Give them an inch and they’ll take a mile.”11 Nevertheless, officer-enlisted conflicts are not nearly as pervasive in the fictional treatments of the Korean War as they are in the novels of the Second World War. Rather, the overriding literary characterization of the war in Korea is that of resigned, if not fatalistic, men who somehow manage to be competent soldiers. Illustrative of the prevailing enlisted mood is the Marine doggerel quoted in William Crawford’s Give Me To¬ morrow: “Not home for Christmas, but no will miss us/ So cheer up, my lads, FRIG ’EM ALL !”12 The image of the stoic but effective American soldier in Korea, however, was not to be the prevailing one. When the repatriation of American prisoners of war began in 1953, the American public was suddenly exposed to new and disquieting terms—collaboration, brainwashing, “give-up-itis.” These ominous words portended a strikingly negative image of American behavior in Communist prison camps which devel¬ oped in the years immediately following the Korean armistice. This propaganda was abetted by certain circles in the military establishment and achieved wide acceptance in newspapers and national magazines along with extensive circulation in schools, civic associations, and the information programs of the armed forces. Perhaps the two most influential of these items were a 1957 New Yorker magazine piece by Eugene Kinkead, later published as In Every War But One; and a series of arti¬ cles and speeches by Major William Mayer, an Army psychia¬ trist. Such accounts based on interviews with returned pows and Army informants painted a picture of a “sad and singular record . . . without precedent in our nation’s history.”13 The Korean POW story given by Kinkead, Mayer, and simi¬ lar spokesmen was one of “wholesale breakdown” and “whole¬ sale collaboration” with the enemy. But this massive demorali¬ zation was due not to physically harsh or cruel treatment on the part of the Chinese captors, but rather to inherent weak¬ nesses in the character of the American prisoners. Most im¬ portant, there was the assumption that these weaknesses were characteristic of a large majority of enlisted men, not just those unfortunates who were captured. That is, the faults re-

11 The American Enlisted Man vealed among- the American POWs were anchored in more basic failings within our country’s military and civil institutions. On the one hand, there was the dilution of military discipline resulting from the “democratizing” reforms of the Doolittle Board and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. At the same time, there was an alleged social decay in American society itself: the rise of the welfare state, the decline of in¬ dividualistic virtues, and the shift away from absolute stand¬ ards of right and wrong. To correct these weaknesses, there was the explicit need for reinstituting traditional military authority over the rank and file; and the implicit need to turn America back to the older verities. Moreover, to rectify the manifold failings of Americans in the rearing of their youth, it would be incumbent on the armed forces themselves to in¬ doctrinate troops in anti-Communism. A demolishment of the in-every-war-but-one thesis is Al¬ bert Biderman’s well-researched March to Calumny. Biderman initially takes strong issue with Kinkead’s claim that “one out of three” prisoners was guilty of some collaboration, and that “one out of seven” was guilty of serious collaboration with the enemy. Biderman looks at the record and finds that out of the almost 4,000 Army repatriates, only ten were ever convicted for collaboration; even in these few cases, many offenses were judged so slight as not to warrant severe punishment. In a perceptive comment on why the Air Force was much less alarmed than the Army over prisoner-of-war problems, Bider¬ man notes: “For the Air Force staff officer, the men who were captured were fellow officers and aviators, at least a few of whom he knew personally.. . . The situation of the Army officer, on the other hand, is more likely to lead him to think in terms of faceless masses of ‘troops.’ The troops who get captured, unlike himself, are largely enlisted personnel.”14 Put another way, an important factor in the negative evalua¬ tion of American POWs in Korea derived in some measure from the often invoked double standard used to evaluate officer and enlisted behavior. But more important, Biderman shows how distinctive American qualities made the average Gi particularly resistant

12 Images of Enlisted Life to Communist pressures. Foremost among these traits were a rough-and-ready sense of humor, an ability to “play it cool,” and a profound skepticism of any form of political ideology. Biderman goes on to say that those who argue for a more rigidly disciplined and ideological Army will find no support from the Korean experience. Those eager to prove American society decadent will have to find evidence elsewhere. Rather, the proper object of concern should not be the POWs, but the leaders of opinion and officials of the armed forces whose re¬ sponse to events in Korea so obliterated the truth that they were ready to believe the worst about their compatriots. The image, then, of the American enlisted man during the Korean War is mixed. The blemished and oversimplified por¬ trayal derived from his alleged pow behavior remains with us to a degree. But some amount of correction seems to have taken place. A balanced view must take into account that American soldiers were fighting a war never popularly supported back home; they were fighting while their military leaders engaged in public dispute with their civilian leaders; and they fought well despite having only a hazy conception of the purposes of the war. While the American soldier has never been a political man, this was especially the case in Korea. In comparison with his World War II counterpart, the soldier in Korea was proba¬ bly even more inclined to accept his fate in a matter-of-fact fashion. If there was a serious morale problem, it was at the top leadership levels rather than among the rank and file. Or, as Samuel Huntington has put it: “. .. if ‘professional’ summed up the attitudes of the troops, ‘frustrated’ described that of the generals. The troops were willing to accept the way the ball bounced, the generals were not.”15

Cold War. In the decade following the end of the Korean War, America’s military posture was founded on “nuclear deter¬ rence” coupled with large forces stationed abroad and in ships at sea. Between 1955 and 1965, the number of men in uniform fluctuated between 2,400,000 and 2,800,000; a figure much higher than existed between World War II and Korea. Greatly affecting the character of the Cold War military establishment

13 The American Enlisted Man was the nature of developments in technological warfare. Al¬ though the new technology was most characteristic of the Air Force, it affected all of the armed services. Where Korea was essentially fought with World War II technology, the Cold War military was predicated on vastly more complicated and sophisticated weapons, for example, long-range jet bomb¬ ers, atomic-powered submarines, tactical nuclear weapons, complex monitoring devices, and a wide array of missile systems. The changes induced by technological advances in the post- Korea period had wide ramifications on military social organi¬ zation which were particulary manifest in the officer corps. For weapons development gave rise not just to a need for increased technical proficiency, but also for men trained in managerial and modern decision-making skills. This is to say that the broader trend toward technological complexity and increase in organizational scale which was engendering more rational¬ ized and bureaucratic structures throughout American society was also having profound consequences within the military establishment. In the military as in civilian institutions, such a trend involved changes both in the qualifications and sources of leadership. In military leadership these changes have been documented in several landmark studies dealing with the Cold War military establishment. In a highly critical appraisal of these trends, C. Wright Mills described the “military warlords” as constitu¬ ent members of the power elite in the Cold War era. Mills acutely highlighted the increasing lateral access of military professionals to top economic and political positions. From a different perspective, other writers—most notably Gene Lyons and John Masland in Education and Military Leadership and Samuel Huntington in The Soldier and the State—argued that the complexities of modern warfare and international politics required new formulations of officer professionalization and civil-military relations. The most comprehensive study of America’s military leadership in the 1950s is The Professional Soldier by Morris Janowitz. The military establishment of that period is seen as increasingly sharing the characteristics typi-

U Images of Enlisted Life cal of any large-scale bureaucracy along with the ascendancy of military leaders possessing managerial skills. In effect Janowitz states that these changes characterize a movement from military organization based on “domination” to a man¬ agerial philosophy stressing persuasive incentives and indi¬ vidual initiative. While there have been outstanding and provocative studies focusing on the officer corps and civil-military relations at elite levels during the Cold War period, the enlisted ranks of the peacetime military have been generally ignored by social scientists. In fact, throughout the whole post-Korea period there was only a scattering of articles dealing with enlisted men in any of the professional social science journals.16 But these several accounts—based on the participant observations of young social scientists serving in the enlisted ranks—il¬ luminate a different military experience: the college-educated draftee in the peacetime military. Although a picture of en¬ listed bitterness again appears, its genesis directly contrasts with the sources of discontent found in the Second World War. Where officers and rear-echelon personnel were the culprits of World War II, the new objects of derision are career soldiers— NCOS more often than officers—and the demeaning aspects of military life in line units. We find here an account of a particular grievance: the mal¬ content of the college-educated enlisted man because his civilian status does not have commensurate recognition within the armed forces. The enlisted man portrayed in these articles is far more alienated from his enlisted peers of lower socioeco¬ nomic background than he is from officers with whom he shares similar class background. The “ra” (i.e., regular volunteer) versus “us” (i.e., draftee) cleavage obscures the older enlisted- officer distinction. An interpretive reading of these articles indicates that it is the egalitarian as much as the authoritarian features of the military that causes so much resentment among middle-class soldiers. Rather than objecting to the military caste system on intrinsic grounds, the college-educated enlisted man often appears to be disgruntled because he does not enjoy a commission himself.

15 The American Enlisted Man

The critical slant on enlisted life found in the writings of social scientists is reinforced by the hostile accounts given by many intellectuals who served in the Cold War military. Two quotes illustrate this general tone. William Styron in his well- known review of General MacArthur’s memoirs states: “For MacArthur, military life may be symbolized by ... ‘faint bugles sounding reveille,’ but for many if not most of his countrymen it is something else: it is reveille. It is training manuals and twenty-mile hikes, stupefying lectures on platoon tactics and the use of the Lister bag, mountains of administrative paper¬ work, compulsive neatness and hideous barracks in Missouri and Texas, sexual deprivation, hot asphalt drillfields and deafening rifle ranges, daily tedium unparalleled in its ferocity, awful food, bad pay, ignorant people, and a ritualistic demand for ass-kissing almost unique in the quality of its humilia¬ tion.”17 Or as the philosopher Carl Cohen describes enlisted mores: “Who is not familiar with the slovenly and brutish speech of military life? ... The inevitable outcome is the con¬ stant use, as adjective, adverbs, and expletives, of that same vulgar vocabulary of sex and elimination with which one is surrounded.... Attention to the fine arts is practically nil.... The music he hears is loud and coarse; the commonly available reading matter is cheap and sexy.... The abnormality and restrictions of the soldier’s condition leads to the gradual de¬ generation of the attitudes and practices of his sex life.”18 It seems that where the enlisted chroniclers of World War II were attracted, even if ambivalently, to the character and flavor of enlisted life, the enlisted intellectuals who found themselves in the Cold War military were revolted by that same enlisted behavior. Novelistic treatments of the career soldier in the peace¬ time military also present a picture of unrelieved crudeness and the armed forces as a refuge for those who cannot succeed in the civilian world. Fatuous officers, brutish noncoms, and coarse enlisted men all make their appearances in such novels as James Drought’s Mover, Gordon Weaver’s Count a Lonely Cadence, and Jack Pearl’s Stockade. The image of the service¬ man who has “found a home” in the military being incapable

16 Images of Enlisted Life

of coping with civilian life even conies through in one of the few novels that favorably portrays the career soldier in the peacetime Army—Soldier in the Rain by William Goldman. There is a telling scene when Master Sergeant Maxwell Slaughter, a man of exceptional intellectual abilities (he does The New York Times crossword puzzles), responds to the question as to why he remains in the Army. “ ‘Just this’— and he pointed toward the window—‘the world’s outside that window, Eustis, and it scares me. It’s awfully big out there.’ ”1!) Perhaps the most important thing to note in these descrip¬ tions of enlisted life in the Cold War military is not so much their critical tone but their substantive variance with the studies dealing with the officer corps of the same period. The well-documented consequences on military leadership generated by the movement toward technological complexity, persuasive incentives, and rationalized forms of bureaucracy appear to impinge hardly at all on the enlisted levels. Portrayals of enlisted life in the Cold War, whether favorable or unfavorable, are uniform in their conventional image of military life: the physical rigors of training, the subterranean enlisted culture, and the total institutional qualities of the military organiza¬ tion. Indeed, excepting the new role of blacks in the integrated military, all of the previously mentioned novels could have been set in the pre-World War II period without substantial change. The enlisted stereotype, in other words, has maintained a basic element of continuity despite the far-reaching changes occurring in the technological bases of the armed forces and in the structure of military leadership. The differential impact of these changes on officer vis-a-vis enlisted levels is graphically reflected in the movies of the Cold War period. Films dealing with officers focus on the hardships confronting older officers when technological changes make their skills obsolete, for example, Strategic Air Command (1955) and A Gathering of Eagles (1963). Yet in the mass media portrayals of enlisted life in the same period, there is the usual setting of small units within the authoritarian context of the military, and the stock convention of recruit meets sergeant, for example, the movies

17 The American Enlisted Man

Take the High Ground (1955), The DI (1957), and Soldier in the Rain (1963) ; and the television shows No Time For Sergeants and Gomer Pyle. It is apparent in the cinematic stereotypes that it is the Air Force image which is most affected by weapons development while the images of the Army and Marine Corps remain in the more traditional mold. Moreover, attitudinal surveys conducted during the Cold War period showed Americans consistently giving highest prestige to the Air Force followed, in order, by the Navy, Marine Corps, and Army.20 These surveys also found specific stereotypes associated with each of the services: Air Force, technical training and glamor; Navy, travel and excitement; Marine Corps, physical toughness and danger; Army, ponderous and routine. Significantly, an internal Army survey in 1961 showed that even among active-duty Army personnel it was the Air Force that was regarded as the most modern and glamorous of the services while the Army was seen as tradition-bound and routinized. Although the stress on the total institutional and traditional qualities of military life has been a continuing theme in enlisted stereotypes from World War II through the Cold War, this is not to say there have been no important changes in the image of the 1950s military compared with that of the preceding decade. Coming into sharp prominence in descriptions of the post-Korea military at the enlisted levels are two new elements: the racial integration of the armed services; and the adjust¬ ment of American servicemen to semi-permanent overseas assignments. Along with the already mentioned animus toward NCOS, these features, rather than the trends toward greater technical complexity and organizational scale, most affected portrayals of enlisted life in the peacetime military. Certainly from any standpoint the racial integration of the armed forces which began haltingly in the late 1940s and was largely completed shortly after the end of the Korean War stands as one of the most remarkable achievements in directed social change. In less than a decade the military was trans¬ formed from one of the most rigidly segregated institutions in American society into one that leaped into the forefront of

18 Images of Enlisted Life

racial equality. And, as was to be expected, the new racial situation in the armed forces had concomitant consequences on images of military life. One must remember that in novels dealing with black troops in World War II, such as William Gardner Smith’s Last of the Conquerors and John Oliver Killens’ And Then We Heard the Thunder, the resentment of Negro soldiers was so intense as to lead to direct confrontation with the segregated status quo. Moreover, in other World War II novels that dealt with aspects of black-white relations, most notably John Cobb’s The Gesture and James Gould Cozzens’ Guard of Honor, when liberal-minded individuals attempted to introduce Negro troops into white areas, the results were close to military disaster. Similarly in novels dealing with the actual implementation of desegregation in the early 1950s there were also pessimistic accounts of the military’s ability to adjust to racial equality, for example, Mover by James Drought (set in Fort Bragg), and A Chosen Few by Hari Rhodes (set in Camp LeJeune). Once desegregation was accomplished, however, the post- Korea novels also became racially integrated. Into the pre¬ viously heterogeneous—but all-white—squads of the military novelists, the black soldier was quickly incorporated. But more than that, black-white relations became central themes in peacetime military novels such as Gene L. Coon’s The Short End, Jack Pearl’s Stockade, and Gordon Weaver’s Count a Lonely Cadence. In an interesting merger of the anti-NCO motif with the new situation of racial integration, each of the preced¬ ing novels has a similar plot in which sensitive white enlisted men along with blacks are joint victims of sadistic noncoms. Although no movie has yet been made dealing directly with black troops or black-white relations in the armed forces, Holly¬ wood has readily adapted to cinematic portrayals of the racially integrated military. Indeed, it has become almost obligatory for any movie dealing with the military to give special promi¬ nence to black servicemen, even if it means rewriting history. In The Dirty Dozen (1967), a fictional account of a raid behind German lines in the Second World War, the combat unit is racially integrated. In FT-109 (1963), the filmed dramatization

19 The American Eyilisted Man of John F. Kennedy’s war exploits, the Navy of World War II is portrayed as racially integrated. Along with the new role of the black serviceman, there was another important respect in which the popular picture of enlisted life in the Cold War military differed from earlier images. The significance of the overseas experience for the peacetime serviceman becomes a central characteristic in the enlisted stereotype of the post-Korea period. Starting in the mid-1950s and extending into the 1960s, there appeared a series of movies with settings in American military bases over¬ seas: Germany—Verboten (1958), G./. Blues (1960), and Toivn Without Pity (1961) ; Japan—Three Stripes in the Sun (1955), Sayonara (1957),and Tokyo After Dark (1959) ; and Okinawa—Teahouse of the August Moon (1956), based on the popular play of the same name. Covering the same period of the Cold War era, novelists also recounted the significance of the overseas tour for the peacetime soldier. For some reason it has been the Far East rather than Europe which has more often been the locale of novels dealing with overseas Gis. Of particu¬ lar note in this regard are Gene Coon’s The Short End and C.D.B. Bryan’s P. S. Wilkinson, both about Korea; and Jere Peacock’s Valhalla, Duncan Thorp’s Only Akiko, and Walter Sheldon’s Tour of Duty, all set in Japan. Like the World War II accounts of overseas life, the Cold War portrayals of American servicemen abroad also present a picture of men prone to seek out the pleasures of the flesh. A novel aspect in the later accounts, however, is the existence of an entire subsociety catering to the hedonistic wants of Gis— the so-called “boomtowns” which ring most American installa¬ tions overseas. Indeed, from these accounts the boomtown is virtually an integral part of the overseas military community. Moreover, unlike the negative portrayals of non-Americans in the World War II literature, the description of the local na¬ tional's with whom the Cold War Gis come into contact is much more sympathetic. If anything, the local nationals are more favorably portrayed than American servicemen. Again in con¬ trast with the literature of the 1940s, the most meaningful social relationships of the American serviceman are no longer

20 Images of Enlisted Life with fellow soldiers but rather with local women. A recurrent theme in the later overseas-Gi literature is the gradual es¬ trangement of the sensitive American soldier from his own countrymen as he becomes increasingly involved-—first through sexual liaisons, later culturally—with the foreign community. Unlike the ethnocentrism of the Second World War, the peace¬ time literature readily acknowledges the virtues of the culture and people in the countries where Americans are stationed. It would be hard to imagine a World War II novel in the manner of Sheldon’s book on Air Force personnel which opens with the Japanese proverb: “Obey the customs of the place where you are.” The impact of the overseas experience on enlisted life in the peacetime military is perhaps most revealingly represented in a literary genre of which few civilians are aware—the multi¬ tude of cartoon books dealing exclusively with and read by Americans stationed abroad. These books, written and drawn by ex-servicemen, are usually published overseas with only a limited distribution in the United States. Such books have achieved a wide popularity since the end of the Korean War which suggests that the situations they portray resonate to the real experiences of the overseas serviceman. Dealing with the American soldier in Germany are the cartoons of Mike Lan¬ caster appearing in the Overseas Weekly (a German-published newspaper with a large enlisted readership), and the percep¬ tive Mox Nix (from the Gi mispronunciation of es macht nichts, “it doesn’t matter”) by Jack Niles and Jim Dye. Away from the Kaserne, the soldier is pictured as bewildered by the German language, potent beer, avaricious prostitutes, reckless drivers, strange toilet conditions, and other confusing ex¬ periences. As would be expected, culture shock is even more apparent in the cartoon books dealing with Japan and Korea: Bob Neumeyer’s You Speak, Jack LaBar’s Orientoons, R. Simms’ Too Much, Everett Opie’s Dress Up That Line, and the Babysan series by Bill Hume. In both Europe and the Far East, however, the portrayal of the serviceman goes beyond simple befuddle- ment with foreign folkways. The prevailing image of the over-

21 The American Enlisted Man seas soldier is more of one who spends his free time alternating between alcoholic excess and sexual indulgence. The Babysan cartoons recount the adventures of an engaging prostitute who is described in the accompanying serious commentary as a “symbol of the Japanese impact on young Americans.” A simi¬ lar point is made in a cartoon by Simms. A soldier just returned to the United States is sitting in the family living room answer¬ ing questions from his parents and relatives: “What was the closest call I had in Korea? ... Let me see ... there was the time I was at my steady’s house, and along about ten-thirty the MPs started banging at the door.” On duty, however, the life of the overseas soldier in these cartoon books is seen as extremely onerous, particularly in the field. Also, as was true with the participant observations of social scientists serving in the enlisted ranks, the main objects of derision are NCOS rather than officers. Two cartoons illus¬ trate the point. In one by Opie, two master sergeants are intimately conversing over beers. One says to the other: “Buddy, I starved on the outside.” In the same vein, a cartoon by Simms shows two skidrow derelicts sitting in the gutter. One is declaiming to the other: “I was on my way to the top— promotions, soldier-of-the-month, commendation ribbon—and then they put me in charge of the NCO club.” Contrast these with a Mauldin cartoon in which Willie and Joe back in civilian life are in a hotel lobby looking at a bellhop. The caption reads: “Major Wilson! Back in uniform, I see.” (Italics added.)

Vietnam. Though American military advisers have been in South Vietnam since the middle 1950s, the United States did not undertake a major military involvement in that country until January, 1962. This was an outcome of the increasing tenuity of the Diem regime and the new emphasis the Kennedy Administration was placing on American-supported counter¬ insurgency operations in third-world areas. The failure of this policy in Vietnam led to the direct commitment of American ground combat forces in the spring of 1965. Two years later, over 500,000 American troops were in Vietnam or adjacent areas. During the period from the early 1960s through 1968, Images of Enlisted Life the total American military manpower strength increased from about 2,500,000 to over 3,400,000. The manpower increases resulting from the war in Vietnam, however, saw markedly different buildup rates in the various armed services. Land forces experienced the greatest augmentation; from 1960 to 1969, the troop strength of the Army and Marine Corps in¬ creased 68 per cent and 61 per cent, respectively. The Navy increase was 20 per cent and that of the Air Force only 9 per cent. Though still unresolved, the conflict in Vietnam has already brought about new portrayals of military life at both the officer and enlisted levels. Perhaps the most notable development has been the deluge of books on the activities of the Special Forces or “Green Berets” in Vietnam. A partial listing of such popular novels and autobiographies includes Robin Moore’s The Green Berets, Irwin Blacker’s Search and Destroy, Gene D. Moore’s The Killing at Ngo Tho, Scott C.S. Stone’s The Coasts of War, Peter Derring’s The Pride of the Green Berets, Charles W. Runyon’s The Bloody Jungle, Roger H.C. Donlon’s Outpost of Freedom, and Barry Sadler’s I’m a Lucky One. In fact, the romanticization of the Green Berets became a minor American industry. In addition to the books just mentioned, the Special Forces have been the topic of a widely syndicated “serious” cartoon strip; an inspiration for a children’s doll complete with uniform changes; the theme of the hit record “The Ballad of the Green Berets”; and the subject of a movie starring John Wayne. The Green Beret literature describes a soldier versed not only in traditional fighting skills, but also one who is conver¬ sant in several foreign languages, knowledgeable in medical techniques, and possessing a general expertise in matters dealing with winning the “hearts and minds” of the local populace. But the Green Berets have also been critically attacked, most especially in The Neiv Legions by ex-Special Forces Master Sergeant Donald Duncan. Nevertheless, even Duncan’s account concedes that the Special Forces consist of highly trained and motivated career soldiers who are almost as separated from the regular Army as they are from civilian life.

23 The American Enlisted Man

Further, the portrayals of the Green Berets tend to minimize distinctions between officers, noncoms, and lower-ranking en¬ listed men. Rather, there is a picture of a pervasively shared identity among members of the Special Forces which results in invidious definitions of all others as outsiders. Thus, the image of the Green Berets coming through in all accounts, whether favorable or not, is of a total institution within a total institution. Ironically enough, about the same time the Special Forces were being glorified in the popular culture, the Army began to deemphasize their role. This reflected questions about the effectiveness of the Green Berets as well as the traditional Army aversion to “elite” units.* While there has been a surfeit of accounts of the atypical and numerically small Special Forces (less than 4,000 in all Southeast Asia), popular treatments of the ordinary soldier in Vietnam are surprisingly rare. After over four years of major military engagement, no movie has been produced with a plot centering on the rank-and-file soldier in Vietnam. As one Hollywood executive wTas quoted, “It’s an unpopular war, and we don’t want any part of it.”21 Novelistic descriptions of the enlisted man in Vietnam are also few. In the occasional novel that does deal with the war from the standpoint of the average Gl, however, there is an almost surrealistic portrayal of the military organization. In place of the socially cohesive combat units so important in the World War II literature-—and to a lesser extent in the military novels of the Korean War—the Vietnam writers portray a situation almost completely devoid of primary-group ties. In such novels as John Sack’s M, William Wilson’s The LBJ Brigade, and Daniel Ford’s Incident at Muc Wa, combat soldiers are described as men with com¬ pletely privatized outlooks existing in an almost anomic mili-

In the summer of 1969 widespread attention was given to charges brought against eight Green Berets—including the former commander of Special Forces in Vietnam—for the murder of a Vietnamese civilian. Although the chain of events leading to the charges will probably never be clear, the animus of the Army’s hierarchy toward the Special Forces was manifestly evident. Images of Enlisted Life

tary environment. Even in the novels with officer protagonists, such as David Halberstam’s One Very Hot Day and Victor Kol- pacoff’s The Prisoners of Quai Dong, there is a similar charac¬ terization of isolated individuals unable to relate with fellow Americans in Vietnam. Although it is premature to specify the exact forms the image of the enlisted man in Vietnam will finally take, existing accounts offer some indications. In one important respect at least, there appears to be a basic continuity between the combat literatures of World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. The irrele¬ vance of ideological motivation or patriotic appeals for rank- and-file combat soldiers remains a constant (which contrasts with the portrayals of the Green Berets where there is a fre¬ quent articulation of the war’s purposes—including the evils of Communism, nation-building in Vietnam, and fighting for America’s freedom). The participation of career soldiers in the war is explained as simply doing a job requiring little moral commitment. In Halberstam’s novel, a West Point lieutenant admonishes a weary and disillusioned captain: “That’s the name of the game, taking crap, being nice, being patient. That’s why we’re here, and that’s what we’re paid for, and it’s my job and it’s your job, and you’re senior to me which means you get paid a little better for taking a little more of it.”22 The motivation of enlisted men is described in even more basic terms. In Wilson’s book, a battle-hardened sergeant be¬ rates newly arrived troops: “Screw what you have been told in the States. You ain’t fightin the Communists. You ain’t fightin for liberty or America or the cunt next door. You’re fightin to stay alive.”23 Almost exactly the same sentiments are found in G1 Diary by David Parks. A young black combat soldier, Parks kept a day-to-day account of his experiences. As he prepares to leave for home after a year in Vietnam, Parks notes: “I never felt I was fighting for any particular cause. I fought to stay alive, and I killed to keep from being killed.”24 Like earlier combat images, the general picture coming from Vietnam is still that of steadfast but less than enthusiastic soldiers. The inevitable Gi cartoon books have also made their ap¬ pearance in Vietnam. Such books as Tony Zidek’s Choi Oi, and

25 The American Enlisted Man

Ken Melvin’s Sorry ’Bout That and Be Nice, like their counter¬ parts in other overseas areas, largely center around American servicemen in bars, their escapades with prostitutes, and their dealings with local people. (“Happiness is a taxi driver who has just the right change for your 500 piaster note.”) In this respect there is a continuity with the hedonistic picture of the Gi which began in World War II portrayals of garrison life abroad and was confirmed in the Cold War accounts of Ameri¬ cans overseas. There are, however, certain unique features in the cartoon books of Gis in Vietnam. The ubiquity of enemy behind-the-lines terrorism is indicated in a cartoon set in a bar just blacked-out by one of Saigon’s frequent power failures. The caption reads: “Hey GI. You hold satchel for me three minutes, huh?” More distinctive, however, is the presence of a certain amount of political content in the Vietnam cartoons. A perusal of both the commercial books and the Gi-drawn cartoons ap¬ pearing in military newspapers shows undeniable hostility toward the peace demonstrations of college students back in the United States. Illustrative of this mood is a Melvin cartoon in which two Vietnam veterans are watching a group of long¬ haired and bearded picket marchers at the “University of Berkeley” (sic). One says to the other: “Kind of makes you want to call for a defoliation mission.” Significantly, neither the anti-officer features of World War II nor the anti-NCO aspects of the Cold War military seem to be important for the Vietnam cartoonists. Rather, more animus appears to be directed toward peace demonstrators than toward grievances within the military system. And it may be that the cleavage between soldiers’ attitudes and those of college students augurs an eventual ominous characteristic in Vietnam portrayals. It would be an unfortunate occurrence if soldiers were to be de¬ fined as brutes in uniform by college students, and if college students were to be seen as privileged anarchists by soldiers.

The Enlisted Image in Retrospect An assessment of portrayals of enlisted men from before the Second World War to the present reveals a multifaceted pic-

26 Images of Enlisted Life

ture that belies casual generalities. But the enlisted image does show some observable regularities and divergencies over the past three decades. Looking at the continuities first, the most notable persistency is the high regard in which the actual fight¬ ing man has usually been held, especially in the popular culture. Though no single individual appeared in Korea or Vietnam rivaling the fame of Alvin York in World War I or Audie Murphy in World War II, the general image of the combat soldier follows the heroic model of mass media portrayals. Indeed, American servicemen seem to be regarded by their countrymen as the most efficient and innovative combatants in the world. Over and over again, the characteristic picture of the American combat soldier has been one of a plain-speaking-no- nonsense warrior doing an unpleasant but necessary job—and doing it well. (The partial exceptions of the opprobrious treat¬ ment of American pows in Korea and certain negative por¬ trayals of American combat soldiers in Vietnam will be dis¬ cussed shortly.) In contrast to the standard treatment of combat heroics in the mass media, most serious literary accounts of warfare re¬ ject the values of honor and valor. Soldiers are consistently portrayed in such accounts as having no meaningful under¬ standing of their role in the nation’s war aims. Rather, military life for the soldier, in combat and in garrison, is viewed as a nasty detour in his life’s direction. Moreover, when heroic acts are performed they are seen as idiosyncratic and individual and not as being motivated by ideological or patriotic sentiments. The retreat from romance is perhaps the most distinguishing feature of the war novelists. Yet, even in the most cynical novels, despite the American soldier’s lack of personal commit¬ ment to war, his fighting abilities are seldom brought into open question. Another image of enlisted men showing a remarkable per¬ sistency appears at first glance to contradict the common por¬ trayal of the actual fighting man—whether rendered as heroic or wearily cynical. This is the comic stereotype of military life. Much more than just the cartoons originally drawn for a Gi audience—from Mauldin’s Willie and Joe in the Second World

27 The American Enlisted Man

War to the most recent humorous portrayals of service life in Vietnam—the enlisted man has also come to occupy the role of a stock comic character in America’s popular culture. The comic stereotype of enlisted men has been especially ubiquitous in descriptions of peacetime garrison life or noncombat situa¬ tions in wartime. One has only to mention, among many others, such well-known portrayals as Private Hargrove, No Time for Sergeants, Beetle Bailey, Sergeant Bilko, Hogan’s Heroes, Marine recruit Gomer Pyle, McHale’s Navy, and Sad Sack. If America has in many ways been a warlike country, it does not appear to be truly militaristic. Perhaps this is because so many Americans themselves have been enlisted men; the comic im¬ ages of service life resonate to many of their own military experiences. It should be noted, however, that cartoon strips with officer protagonists are in the serious rather than comic vein and serve to propagate heroic images for the various armed services: Steven Canyon (Air Force), Buzz Sawyer (Navy), and Tales of the Green Berets (Army). In any event, there does seem to exist a perverse and humorous strain in the American character which allows the world’s foremost military power to portray its rank-and-file military men so often in comic, and even slapstick, fashion. The heroic combatant, unenthusiastic warrior, and peace¬ time comic stereotypes, though quite different in their evalu¬ ative aspects, all have in common a portrayal of enlisted life in old-fashioned terms. That is, despite the broad trends toward greater organizational scale and sophistication in weaponry, and despite the profound consequences these trends have had on the structure and recruitment of military leadership, en¬ listed images remain firmly in the traditional military mold. Enlisted occupational skills are stereotypically described not as dealing with complex technological tasks, but rather as involv¬ ing basic physical training for combat, low-level supervisory abilities, and routine performance of housekeeping duties. Further, the stereotype of the military as an institution from the enlisted standpoint is not that of a highly rationalized bureaucracy, but rather that of a near-feudal organization. Moreover, the prevailing image of the essence of enlisted life

28 Images of Enlisted Life

continues to be portrayed—in combat or garrison, at home or overseas, in humorous or tragic terms—as determined by the situational constraints arising from occupancy of a subordi¬ nate social status. It should not be too surprising that a study of occupational stereotypes on television, conducted ten years after the end of the Korean conflict, found that military en¬ listed personnel ranked last among all occupational types in the value of power (defined by a numerical count of dominant and submissive acts performed in television portrayals) ,25 The unchanging features of the enlisted image are also borne out by the available data on the relative prestige of 90 oc¬ cupations in the United States over almost a two-decade span.26 Survey findings of the National Opinion Research Center (NORC) for 1947 and 1963 show that in both years a “corporal in the regular army” ranked near the top of the lower third of the prestige scale. Comparatively this was similar to the prestige of a machine operator in a factory, garage mechanic, or truck driver. In the actual rank order, a “corporal” was in 64th place in 1947 and in 65th place in 1963. On the other hand, a “captain in the regular army” showed a small but still noticeable upgrading in prestige over the same time period. In 1947 a “captain placed 31st, but had moved to 27th place in 1963. Thus, the commissioned officer designation moved from the top of the middle third to the bottom of the top third on the prestige scale. The more recent ranking of “captain” is on the same prestige level accorded public school teachers or ac¬ countants for large business firms (and, incidentally, that en¬ joyed by sociologists). The relative occupational rankings of military personnel reported in these data must be placed in the broader context of the NORC findings; no substantial change was found in occupational prestige in the United States in the time period covered by the two national surveys. The important continuities in enlisted images over the past generation, however, must not obscure the significant changes that have also occurred in military portrayals. Perhaps the most clear-cut variation has been the shift in the primary objects of animus. The accounts of World War II pervasively reflected the enlisted man’s resentment of the privileged treatment accorded

29 The American Enlisted Man officers. To a lesser degree this pattern also held true during the Korean War. In the Cold War military, however, the focus of animosity becomes centered on noncommissioned officers and career soldiers. This is not to say that anti-NCO feelings were negligible in the Second World War, but it is to say that what¬ ever conflict existed between lower-ranking enlisted men and noncoms was generally submerged by their mutual hostility toward officers. In Vietnam, a third variant seems to be ap¬ pearing. Little attention seems to be paid to any rank-based conflict within the military organization. Rather, the emerging picture is one of solitary individuals with little affective in¬ volvement with any of their fellow soldiers. It follows that the strong emphasis on primary relations and social solidarity within small groups in descriptions of World War II are noticeably absent in the contemporary ac¬ counts of enlisted life coming from Vietnam. But this deempha¬ sis of primary groups in enlisted portrayals is not a sudden one. Roger W. Little’s participant observations of combat troops in the Korean conflict revealed that the basic unit of cohesion was a two-man or “buddy” relationship instead of the older form which followed squad or platoon boundaries.27 Eugene Uyeki, a young sociologist who served in the Cold War military, noted that primary relations were periodically dis¬ rupted by new duty assignments and that the soldier “prepared himself for this by not committing himself more than necessary to any group to which he happens to be transferred.”28 Whether in fact interpersonal relationships in the military are of a lesser intensity in more recent times than in the past cannot be an¬ swered definitively. But there is no denying that since the Second World War portrayals of enlisted life—whether popu¬ lar, novelistic, or scholarly—have increasingly downplayed the salience of primary-group processes for individual soldiers. The declining importance of primary groups in portrayals of enlisted life has a curious parallel in the accounts of rela¬ tionships between front- and rear-echelon troops. In the liter¬ ature of World War II, and to a lesser extent that of Korea, rear-echelon soldiers were negatively described in comparison with front-line troops. In fact, the differentiation of military

SO Images of Enlisted Life

personnel by echelon could often override even the enlisted- officer distinction. In the Cold War accounts, the separation between line and staff assignments remains, but the direction of animosity is reversed. The literature of the Cold War is customarily written from the viewpoint of the educated enlisted man serving in a staff position. Thus, we typically encounter descriptions of hostility toward line soldiers coupled with fears of being transferred into a line unit. In portrayals of Vietnam —reflecting the nature of that war to a partial extent—the distinction between front and rear echelon largely disappears. Another major change in enlisted portrayals since the Second World War reflects the contemporary racial integration of the armed forces. The black soldier has become a new and important element in images of military life. In World War II, Negro troops were at best on the periphery of military por¬ trayals ; in the Cold War literature, blacks have come to play a central role. This has become even more the case in accounts coming from Vietnam. For it is in Vietnam that the United States has fought its first war with a completely racially inte¬ grated military. But that the military has not become a panacea for racial relations is also evident. An increasingly dominant theme in the most recent accounts is the recurrence of racial conflict on the military scene, particularly in the contrast between on-duty integration and off-duty racial separation. The permanency of overseas assignments for American military personnel following the Second World War also engendered changes in enlisted portrayals. In the accounts of World War II, the interpersonal relations of Americans were almost always limited to fellow servicemen. It is worthy of note that not one of the multitude of surveys reported in The American Soldier dealt directly with relationships with foreign nationals. Moreover, even in those novels where foreign na¬ tionals played some role, their relations with American service¬ men were-casual and intermittent. In the overseas Cold War literature, however, the boomtown community comes promi¬ nently into the foreground and Gi-local dealings become regu¬ larized, if not institutionalized. Also contrasting with World War II, the peacetime accounts of overseas life are generally

31 The American Enlisted Man sympathetic in their treatment of foreign nationals, especially local women. In Vietnam, where there are elements of both the standard overseas peacetime tour and that of serving in a theater of war, we find a correspondingly ambivalent image of overseas life. Along with the usual descriptions of Gis enjoy¬ ing the ambience of the boomtown, there is also a marked antipathy toward Vietnamese civilians who are viewed as threatening the physical safety of American troops. In any event, the centrality of the overseas experience has become one of the hallmarks of contemporary portrayals of military life. We turn now to a consideration of what is the most impor¬ tant dimension of change in the American servicemen’s image, namely, variations in the ideological content of military stereotypes. In each of the four periods covered in this chapter, there were quite different political evaluations of the man in uniform; each period requires its own special comment. Americans gave the Second World War unparalleled sup¬ port. No other military conflict in which the United States has been involved, before or since, has equaled it. The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor followed immediately by Germany’s declaration of war united the American nation as nothing else could have done. The only organized opposition to the war —but without the slightest indication of any support of the Axis powers—was that of small religiously-based pacifist groups and the “nonsupport” policies of minuscule political groups of Trotskyist persuasion. It is within the context of the widespread popular support for World War II that we can appreciate the absence of any serious criticism of the men in uniform. At elite, intellectual, and mass levels the American serviceman received unreserved backing and favorable regard. Even the most horrific acts—the Allied fire-bombing of German cities and the atomic obliteration of Hiroshima and Nagasaki— were excused as steps to shorten the war and thereby save the lives of American servicemen. What is often forgotten, how¬ ever, is that the nation’s unquestioning commitment in pursu¬ ing victory was exceptional rather than typical. The Korean conflict, on the other hand, followed the normal American historical pattern of ambiguity toward the nation’s

32 Images of Enlisted Life war involvement. From its initial outbreak, the Korean War was plagued by political indecision. After the Chinese inter¬ vention, this was further compounded by reversals on the battlefield which aggravated the schism in America’s political thinking concerning the war’s aims. Conservatives generally took the hard line of extending the war directly to China in the quest for total victory. Most liberals and moderates, while still supporting anti-Communist policies, favored a com¬ promise solution. Some opposition to the war existed in Left- wing groups, but such radical voices were so weakened by the Joseph McCarthy era as to be hardly heard at all. The eventual stalemate of the Korean conflict contributed to an inverted placement of blame for the war’s unsatisfactory outcome. The American soldier himself was held up to question. Adverse accounts of the behavior of American pows soon became interwoven with more general criticism: the lack of troop motivation, the deterioration of military discipline, and the decay of American society itself. Significantly, it was among the staunchest patriots that the calumnious portrait of the American soldier was most readily accepted. Moreover, it must not be overlooked that the negative image of American servicemen that developed from Korea corresponded with a general resurgence of conservative thought and political activity in the United States of the 1950s. The ensuing Cold War period saw relatively slight political attention paid to the enlisted man. This is not to say that the peacetime military escaped embroilment in political contro¬ versy, but that such controversy was centered on issues of military leadership and the institutional role of the military. Command policies at the highest level were subjected to con¬ servative attack in two major Senate hearings. The military establishment found itself on the defensive in countering charges of being soft on Communism in both the McCarthy- Army hearings of 1954, and in the 1962 hearings resulting from the cause celebre following Major General Edwin Walker’s relief from command (for sponsoring troop infor¬ mation programs with extreme conservative content). During this same period, intellectuals on the Left emerged from their

33 The American Enlisted Man quiescent stance and began critically to attack the military establishment from another direction. The publication of C. Wright Mills’ The Poiver Elite in 1956 raised deep concerns on the nature of the military-industrial complex in contemporary American society. In the early 1960s, similar if less profound analyses appeared in such books as Fred Cook’s The Warfare State, Tristram Coffin’s The Armed Society, and John Swomely’s The Military Establishment. But the new critiques of the Left dealt almost exclusively with civil-military rela¬ tions at elite levels. Politically and ideologically, the enlisted soldier was the forgotten man of the Cold War. If the ideological debates concerning the military estab¬ lishment in peacetime were generally indifferent to the enlisted man, this was not to be the case once America intervened massively in Vietnam. Opposition to the war in Vietnam has come to comprise a markedly diverse assortment of individuals and groups. While it is beyond our purview here to restate the various forms the opposition to the war in Vietnam has taken, it is germane to note the ways in which the antiwar movement has affected images of military life. For at least in its more militant embodiment among student activists and New Left partisans, opposition to the war has generalized into a frontal attack on the military system itself. From a tactical stand¬ point, this assault includes harassment of military recruiters on college campuses, the organization of concerted nationwide resistance to the draft, and, most recently, the initiation of proselytizing efforts directed toward active-duty military personnel. The 1967 March on the Pentagon crossed a symbolic thresh¬ old. Not only was the war in Vietnam opposed, but for many militants the basic legitimacy of military service was brought into question. For some, moreover, to be against the war in Vietnam entailed denigrating the moral qualities of the American fighting man. Much of the radical antiwar rhetoric portrayed American soldiers as proto-Fascist automatons and wanton perpetuators of atrocities against Vietnamese civilians. Conversely, advocates of the war tended to label all Images of Enlisted Life peace proponents as physically betraying the American soldier in combat. As the war in Vietnam ground on, sep¬ arating the substantive and ethical issues of the war from the contradictory stereotypes of American soldiers in Vietnam became increasingly difficult. By an involuted leap of reason¬ ing, whether one had a favorable or unfavorable conception of the American soldier was becoming the defining characteristic of how one stood on the war in Vietnam. Very significantly, however, most accounts from Viet¬ nam—as well as my own findings to be discussed later— indicated a strong hostility on the part of servicemen toward peace demonstrators back home. Some independent empirical corroboration for this point is given in a 1968 study conducted by Rappoport and Cvetkovich.-9 Looking at attitudes toward the war held by recent veterans, the researchers found that ex- servicemen as a group were much more likely to support the war than were college students. Moreover, those who had served in Vietnam were more critical of antiwar arguments than were veterans who had not been to Vietnam. The study further reported: “All of the combat men report very negative reactions to domestic criticism of the war they heard while in Vietnam.” Many of the veterans said soldiers in Vietnam planned “to beat up protestors when they got home.”30 Contrasting circumstances in the political evaluations of American servicemen and their own reactions over three wars is revealing. In World War II, the American serviceman was almost universally held in high esteem in a popularly sup¬ ported war. But the soldier’s own enthusiasm for the war was much less evident than that displayed by the general public. After the Korean conflict, defamatory images of the American soldier were propagated by Right-wing spokesmen. Liberal commentators, on the other hand, generally defended the qualities of the American fighting man. Thus, the Korean War soldier’s own ambivalent commitment to the war corresponded somewhat with that of the citizenry back home. In the war in Vietnam a still different pattern has emerged. Many political conservatives defend the war in terms of “support the boys,”

35 The American Enlisted Man while the severest attacks on the behavior of American soldiers emanate from the Left. In turn, because of his antagonism toward peace demonstrators, the combat soldier’s support for the war appears to exceed that of the public at large.

36 TWO

The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military

There are two apparently contradictory characterizations of the American military. On the one hand, there is the view, documented in many scholarly studies, that the contemporary military establishment is increasingly sharing the attributes common to all large-scale bureaucracies in a modern complex society. It follows, therefore, that many of the administrative mechanisms and social forms of the military are converging with those of civilian society. On the other hand, there is the continuing portrayal, especially in the popular culture, of the military as a quasi-feudal organization with features quite unlike those found in the community at large. This viewpoint emphasizes the total institutional qualities of the military organization and the sharp differentiation between military and civilian structures. Though sometimes posed as such, the convergent versus divergent hypotheses of military and civilian social organiza¬ tions are not mutually exclusive. In fact, much of the antinomy can be reconciled by specifying what within the military is the referent for the generalization. As shown in the preceding chapter, studies dealing with the officer corps are most likely to discuss trends in the armed forces along the lines of con¬ vergence with civilian society, while descriptions of enlisted life typically focus on the distinctive qualities of the military system. Moreover, nearly all accounts agree that there are important differences between the armed services as well. The organizational characteristics tending toward convergence with civilian structures have been most apparent in the Air Force, somewhat less so in the Navy, and least of all in the Army and Marine Corps. In other words, to appreciate the scope of the changes induced by technological and bureaucratic factors in the military of recent times need not presume these changes have had equivalent consequences on all ranks or

37 The American Enlisted Man have been equally pervasive throughout each of the armed services. If the ensuing discussion appears to overstress the persist¬ ing and distinctive rather than the changing and convergent qualities of military life, this in fact corresponds with my own comprehension of the enlisted experience. But such a premise also serves the didactic purpose of partially redressing the extant scholarly emphasis pointing to the growing overlap between the armed forces and society. As will be subsequently apparent, the conceptual assumptions underlying this study are twofold. First, the institutional convergence of the armed forces and American society has already passed its maximum point. Although the military buildup resulting from Vietnam obscures the issue, the trend toward convergence probably reached its limits sometime in the late 1950s. (This proposi¬ tion is expanded in the concluding chapter.) Second, the organ¬ izational and attitudinal changes documented for military elites were always more muted at the enlisted levels. And it is for the rank-and-file membership that the military appears in its most traditional form. Put another way, it is within a bi¬ furcated context—the long-term institutional persistencies of enlisted life as well as the transformations within the structure of military leadership—that we are to understand the emergent social organization of the American military.

Enlisted Men and Officers Grade distributions. All conventional military forces make a sharp and formal distinction between officers and enlisted men; it is this distinction that is the paramount feature of the internal social differentiation of the military. Yet, the very term enlisted is itself somewhat of a misnomer. For enlisted refers not to a particular manner of service entry, but to all military personnel other than officers. Indeed, most officers have “enlisted” in the sense of choosing to join the armed forces, while many enlisted men are conscripted into military service against their will. Despite potential terminological ambiguity, there are no real operational difficulties in defining enlisted men. In the

38 The Enlisted Man in the “New" Military

American military, the enlisted ranks are clearly limited to pay grades E-l through E-9 : in the Army and Marine Corps, from private to sergeant major; in the Navy, from seaman recruit to master chief petty officer; and in the Air Force, from airman basic to chief master sergeant.* But within the enlisted ranks there is occasional difficulty in trying to distinguish noncommissioned officers from the lower-ranking men who make up the bulk of enlisted personnel. For example, there are frequent instances when a man may be an “acting” noncom though actually occupying a lower pay grade. To con¬ found matters further, the Army has parallel pay grades which can be either NCO or “specialist” positions (the latter having fewer military prerogatives) ; and the Navy denotes petty officer titles according to naval skill or “rating” (e.g. boatswain, gunner’s mate, storekeeper, etc.) Generally speak¬ ing, however, one is on fairly safe ground to regard pay grades E-l through E-4 as lower-ranking enlisted men, and pay grades E-5 through E-9 as noncommissioned officers.f (It should be mentioned parenthetically that there are two basic groupings of officers: commissioned and warrant. Com¬ missioned officer pay grades are designated 0-1 through 0-9, for example, from second lieutenant or ensign to general or admiral. Warrant officers—pay grades W-l through W-4— constitute about 6 per cent of all officers or less than 1 per cent of all military personnel. Though accorded many of the privileges given commissioned officers, warrant officers occupy a midposition between senior noncoms and commissioned officers in the prestige system of the military. The social back-

* A complete listing of military pay grades and title ranks is given in Appendix 1. f To be more accurate, one should make another distinction within the enlisted ranks. A serviceman who is “E-4 and over four” (i.e., pay grade E-4 with more than four years in the service) has a different status than his rank counterpart with less time in service. The “E-4 over four” is eligible for many of the benefits normally accorded noncoms, e.g., government transportation for dependents, eligibility for family quarters, greater allowances for shipment of household goods, etc.

39 The American Enlisted Man ground of warrant officers, moreover, is usually closer to that of senior noncoms than it is to that of their commissioned counterparts. In this study, unless otherwise noted, reference to officers will be to commissioned officers.) It may be a little surprising in light of the undoubted changes in the American military establishment over the past three decades to find that the ratio of officers to enlisted men has altered little during this time. In 1935 officers com¬ prised 9.7 per cent of the Army’s total personnel; in 1967 the percentage of officers was 9.9 per cent. In the Navy of 1935, officers constituted 10.6 per cent of naval personnel, while in 1967 the figure was 10.9 per cent. During the same period, the proportion of officers in the Marine Corps increased some¬ what more substantially: from 6.7 per cent in 1935 to 8.3 per cent in 1967. In the Air Force, the percentage of officers was 13.8 per cent in 1949 (the first year after its establishment as an independent service), and 15.1 per cent in 1967. The note¬ worthy comparison here is not the change in officer ratios over time, but that the Air Force has one and a half times more officers proportionately than the Army or Navy, and almost twice the proportion of the Marine Corps. Moreover, the differential pattern of officer ratios in each of the four armed services corresponds exactly to the propor¬ tional distribution of grades within the enlisted ranks. As summarized in Table 2.1*, we find the proportion of senior en¬ listed grades—E-5 and higher-—in the various armed services follows the same array characteristic of officer distributions. In other words, those services with high proportions of officers are the same ones with high proportions of senior enlisted men, and vice versa. Accordingly, the percentage of higher-ranking enlisted men is 48.1 per cent in the Air Force, 42.1 per cent in the Navy, 34.3 per cent in the Army, and 31.4 per cent in the Marine Corps. If the proportion of military personnel found in the lower ranks is construed as a kind of crude indi¬ cator of traditional “militaryness,” the most traditional of

Data cited in the text are taken from the tables which appear on pp.194-229. The Enlisted Man in the “New" Military the armed services is the Marine Corps, closely followed by the Army. The Air Force is least so, while the Navy falls somewhere in between.

Social composition. The status differences between officers and enlisted men are by no means solely predicated on the formal positions these two groups occupy within the military organi¬ zation. The differential status enjoyed by officers and enlisted men within the military also corresponds to significant varia¬ tions in social background prior to service entry. Reported in Table 2.2 are the class backgrounds of officers and enlisted men in each of the four services as measured by father’s occupation. These data are based on a secondary analysis of a service¬ wide survey conducted by the National Opinion Research Center (NORC) in 1964. The norc survey was based on a 10 per cent sample of all officers and a 5 per cent sample of all enlisted men on active duty at that time, and a national sample of civilian men, 16-34 years of age. The norc data is used for many of the tabular materials presented in this study and will henceforth be referred to simply as the 1964 NORC survey.* We find in Table 2.2 large and consistent differences— across all four services—between the father’s occupation of offi¬ cers and enlisted men. About one-half of all officers come from white-collar backgrounds, and between one-quarter and one- third have blue-collar fathers. For enlisted men, slightly over one-half come from blue-collar backgrounds, and about one- fifth have white-collar fathers. Put another way, officers are more than twice as likely to have white-collar family back¬ grounds than are enlisted men. Further, enlisted men, com¬ pared to officers, are almost twice as likely to come from homes with no male head (at age fifteen). Suffice it to say, officers typically come from middle-class backgrounds while working- class origins are characteristic of enlisted men. The marked differences in the social background of officers and enlisted men indicated by father’s occupation are even

A resume of the sampling procedures used in the NORC survey is given in Appendix 2. The American Enlisted Man more strikingly confirmed by data pertaining to educational levels. In Table 2.3, looking at 1965, the last year for which com¬ plete information is available, we find 72.3 per cent of all officers had college degrees compared to only 1.3 per cent of enlisted men. Conversely, only 9.1 per cent of officers had not gone beyond high school compared with 82.1 per cent of enlisted men. In other words, a college degree has become a virtual requirement for officers while a high school diploma is the modal educational level for enlisted personnel. But the information given in Table 2.3 tells a more interest¬ ing story than just pointing out the current educational dif¬ ferences between officers and enlisted men. The trend data also reveal a growing discrepancy between the educational levels of officers and enlisted men. That is, while there has been a consistent increase in the percentage of officers who have com¬ pleted college, this has not been paralleled by enlisted attain¬ ment of college degrees. Quite the contrary, the gap between the proportion of officers and enlisted men with college degrees has actually widened. Indeed, there has been an absolute decline in the proportion of enlisted men who have completed college from the Korean conflict to 1965. It should also be noted, however, that there will be an upgrading of enlisted educational levels resulting from the 1968 and 1969 draft calls upon recent college graduates. Nevertheless, such a higher proportion of enlisted men with college educations can be regarded as a temporary fluctuation. In all likelihood, the growing disjuncture between the socioeducational backgrounds of officers and enlisted men will resume in the post-Vietnam period. In part, of course, the educational differences between officers and enlisted men are an artifact of age. Most enlisted volunteers enter the service in their late teens while entering officers are usually about four years older. In other words, officers typically enter the service after attaining the bacca¬ laureate. Yet, that the noted educational differences do reflect class as well as age factors is not only supported inferentially by the data concerning father’s occupation, but also by more direct evidence. In the 1964 NORC survey, it was found that The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military among a nationwide sample of veterans between 28 and 34 years old, 86 per cent of the officer veterans were college grad¬ uates compared with 16 per cent of the enlisted veterans. Additionally, a detailed analysis by Walter Oi of the educa¬ tional background of incoming servicemen revealed that holding age constant officers were seven to ten times more likely to have completed college than were enlisted entrants.1 Nevertheless, it must be stressed that age is another im¬ portant differentiating characteristic in the social composition of enlisted men and officers. The 1964 NCRC survey shows that the median age of enlisted men in the four armed services was: Navy and Marine Corps, 21 years; Army, 23 years; Air Force, 24 years. For the same year, the age median of officers was: Marine Corps, 30 years; Army and Navy, 31 years; Air Force, 32 years. The more youthful cast of the enlisted ranks is in turn reflected in the differential familial status of officers and enlisted men. In 1967, Defense Depart¬ ment records showed that for the Army, Navy, and Marine Corps about 74 per cent of all officers were married compared with 36 per cent of all enlisted men, and 21 per cent of enlisted men in the lower pay grades of E-l through E-4. That Air Force personnel are more likely to be career servicemen, how¬ ever, is reflected in the noticeably higher proportion of married men at all levels in that service: 82 per cent of all officers; 56 per cent of all enlisted men; and 40 per cent of E-l through E-4 enlisted men. In brief, the available data confirm more general impres¬ sions of the social compositional differences between officers and enlisted men. Officers are characteristically college- educated married men in their early thirties coming from middle-class backgrounds. Enlisted men are typically single, high school-trained, in their early twenties, and from working- class backgrounds. But it must be kept in mind that there are many exceptions to these generalizations. Moreover, because the military deals with such tremendous numbers of people, the exceptions involve tens if not hundreds of thousands of men. And, as will be discussed shortly, it is the presence of college-educated middle-class persons in the lower enlisted

US The American Enlisted Man ranks that causes much of the internal strain within the military organization.

Stratification within the military. We turn from officer-enlisted differences resulting from pre-service background factors to a consideration of formal distinctions that inhere in the organi¬ zation of the military system itself. One of the most conven¬ tional measures of social stratification between and within large-scale organizations is the differential monetary and sundry rewards given to persons. But to compare military and civilian remuneration is a near impossible task. Valid com¬ parisons of the wage scales and costs of living in and out of the military are plagued by problematic judgments on equivalent values, for example, commissary and post exchange privileges, government quarters, uniform allowances, per diem payments, medical care, pension plans, and so forth. A 1967 Defense De¬ partment report on military pay realistically concluded: “It is doubtful that as many as 1 per cent of the officer and enlisted men know how to compute the value of these compensation elements.”2 Our purpose here, however, is more limited: to make a comparison of salaries within the military. But even this task is not without problems. Differences in overseas and stateside allowances, diverse computations of officer and enlisted benefits, individual variations in allotment policies, payments for hazardous duty, proficiency pay, among many other items, all preclude exact salary comparisons of persons in various pay grades. Nevertheless, some idea of income differentials within the military can be gained by comparing basic pay and total compensation figures across various ranks. This information, based on a Defense Department study, is presented in Table 2.4. Perhaps the most remarkable thing is that the relative range of salaries within the military is less than that found in most civilian organizations. To be sure, a lieutenant gen¬ eral makes about ten times the salary of a private, but this comparison is misleading. Comparing incomes by rank must also take into consideration time in service. When longevity is considered, we find that across the board officers average The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military

about two to three times more earnings than enlisted men. For example, a staff sergeant makes about half the earnings of a captain—each having six years on active duty. But even a three-star general earns an income only slightly over three times that of a sergeant major. One would be hard pressed to name large-scale industrial enterprises where the salary differences between line employees and top management ap¬ proach such a low ratio. Yet it is also undeniable that military pay is abysmally low for enlisted men, especially at the lower ranks. If this is not so much the case relative to the income of officers, it is too true in the absolute terms of the American economy. The financial straits in which most lower-ranking enlisted men find them¬ selves are particularly severe for those with wives and children. In many instances—perhaps more often than not—lower- ranking enlisted men must have their families stay with parents or in-laws. Another outcome of enlisted impoverish¬ ment is a high rate of moonlighting. Typical of such employ¬ ment are taxi-driving and service station attendants, jobs whose hours can be arranged around a military schedule. It has been reliably estimated that over one-third of enlisted person¬ nel stationed in the Washington, D.C., area are regularly work¬ ing off-duty. A 1964 survey conducted by the Air Force found 71,000 enlisted men holding jobs. The same survey also identi¬ fied over 5,000 active-duty airmen who were receiving some kind of welfare relief from public agencies to support their families.3 But the fact remains that relative to civilian structures, social stratification within the armed forces is not funda¬ mentally based on disparate financial remuneration. Yet, in few contemporary institutions are the lines between superiors and subordinates so sharply and consistently drawn as they are in the military establishment. In contrast with civilian life, the military organization is unique in that glaring in¬ equalities between the ranks coexist with relative monetary parity. Simply put, the internal stratification of the military is founded almost entirely on status rather than income distinctions. The serviceman witnesses a constant attention The American Enlisted Man to rank in every connection. All of his on-duty activities and much of his off-duty life directly correspond to his military status. Officers do not engage in manual labor; enlisted men do. Officers have private living quarters and in mess halls are waited upon by enlisted men; enlisted men live in barracks and pull kitchen police. Officers may leave the military base with no formalities; enlisted men must have passes signed by officers. Until recently, the invidious features of military status extended even to the distaff side. The spouses of officers were traditionally referred to as “ladies” as opposed to the “wives” of enlisted men. Many of these distinctions are too well known to bear detailed recapitulation here, but some can be mentioned for illustrative purposes. Under the rubric of “military courtesy” the enlisted man is formally indoctrinated in the deferential protocol surrounding officers. This encompasses the more ob¬ vious requirements that enlisted men initiate salutes and use “sir” when addressing officers along with more subtle intri¬ cacies covering a seemingly endless series of situations. How does one enter and leave an automobile when accompanying an officer? (The officer enters last and leaves first; but when entering a building or tent, the officer enters first.) What does one do when he is carrying packages and encounters an officer? (Salute if practicable.) How does one approach an officer in his office? (Remove headgear, knock on door, enter when told, march to within two paces of the officer’s desk, halt, salute, and report in a loud clear voice.) What happens when an officer enters a barracks unannounced? (The first man to see the officer shouts “Attention,” all others then come to attention until given permission to resume their disrupted activities.)

Attitudes toward military life. One would expect that the castelike distinctions between the ranks would result in officers having much more favorable attitudes toward military life than enlisted men. This is exactly what is shown in the 1964 NORC survey data reported in Table 2.5. We find that twice as many officers compared to enlisted men stated they liked military life very much. Looked at from the opposite direction,

U6 The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military close to three times as many enlisted men compared with officers stated they did not like service life. But the data also reveal important differences within as well as between the officer and enlisted groups. Among both officers and enlisted men, we find markedly less favorable attitudes toward military life at the lower levels (i.e., officer pay grades 0-1 and 0-2, enlisted pay grades E-l through E-4). Indeed, the discrepancies between junior and senior officers and between junior and senior enlisted men are almost as great as the differences between all officers and all enlisted men. When we order the subgroups by proportion liking military life very much, the ranking is as follows: senior officers, 67.7 per cent; senior enlisted men, 44.8 per cent; junior officers, 35.2 per cent; and lower-ranking enlisted men, 13.3 per cent. That is, enlisted noncoms are more favor¬ ably disposed toward military life than junior officers. Though the data do not allow a separation of officer com¬ ponent it can be assumed that the officer pay grades 0-1 and 0-2 (lieutenants) are predominantly staffed by ROTC graduates. Also, it can be assumed that the enlisted pay grades E-l through E-4 are almost all men in their first term of military service. From these assumptions, then, we can infer a kind of attitudinal parallel between the rotc officer and the first- term enlisted man (who in most instances is either a draftee or someone who volunteered because of the draft). That is, both the junior officer and the lower-ranking enlisted man— though entering the military at different levels—have in common a recalcitrant adaption to military life. Both groups of men typically serve just their initial term of military serv¬ ice and then return to civilian life. Less than 10 per cent of draftees and only about 15 per cent of rotc officers stay in the military for a second term. On the other hand, noncoms and senior officers are similar in their shared career commitment to military service, a commitment reflected in their favorable responses to serving in the armed forces. At least with regard to attitudes toward military life, career orientation appears to override status differences between officers and enlisted men. The American Enlisted Man

Enlisted Social Organization A perennial controversy in this nation’s social history has been the question of what is the best way to man the armed forces. This question reappeared with special force in the late 1960s when the American public witnessed one of the those Great Debates that periodically enliven the domestic scene. A multitude of positions were argued for: maintain the draft essentially as it existed; modify the draft to do away with its inequitable features; replace Selective Service with a lottery system; place the draft within a context of national service for all youth; abandon the draft entirely and rely on an all¬ volunteer military force. Moreover, the most radical critiques —arising from a general weakening of Cold War shibboleths as well as vehement opposition to the war in Vietnam— brought the very legitimacy of military service itself into question. The more conventional concern, however, was aptly phrased in the title of the 1967 Presidential Commission Re¬ port on the Selective Service: “Who Serves When Not All Serve?”4 While these issues have obvious relevancy in any discus¬ sion of the military establishment, it would be redundant here to deal with the pros and cons of the operation of the draft. For in fact, the Selective Service System has become the sub¬ ject of an extensive and rapidly growing literature.5 What does concern us at this point, however, is how different manners of service entry impinge upon the character of the enlisted ranks and the structure of the armed forces, and, beyond that, how enlisted recruitment affects and is shaped by changing patterns of military social organization.

Service entry. Military entrance standards and obligations change periodically and vary between the services. But the regulations for the past two decades or so have generally allowed for the following minimum initial enlistments: Marine Corps, two years; Army, three years; Navy and Air Force, four years. Draftees serve two years and are usually inducted into the Army. On occasion, however, some men may be drafted into the Navy or Marine Corps. During military The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military

buildups such as in the wars in Korea and Vietnam, however, the proportion of draftees increases sharply; in such times draftees can make up as much as three-quarters of the Army’s lower enlisted ranks. In peacetime, voluntary enlistments normally account for about four-fifths of all incoming enlisted military personnel. Defense Department studies, however, indicate that slightly over one-third of these volunteer enlistees were directly motivated to enter the service because of the Selective Service System (i.e., men seeking to increase their military options as the draft appears imminent). All in all, then, about one-half of enlisted personnel serving on active duty even during peacetime are either draftees or draft- motivated volunteers. An insight into the causes underlying initial enlistments can be gained by looking at the diverse reasons mentioned for entering the armed forces. Based on responses elicited in the 1964 NORC survey, the motivations of volunteers were grouped into four categories: (1) personal, for example, to get away from home, mature, travel; (2) patriotic, for example, to serve one’s country; (3) draft-motivated, for example, to choose time of entry or branch of service; and (4) self-advancement, for example, to learn a trade or receive an education, or to make the military a career. These reasons for entry among volunteers broken down by educational level are given in Table 2.6. Almost all of the variation between the educational levels is found in the differing incidence of draft-motivated versus self-advancement reasons. (Though there is also a somewhat greater likelihood for those with less than high school, compared with those of higher educational attainment, to mention personal and patriotic motivations.) Draft moti¬ vation was mentioned least by those with less than high school, somewhat more so by the high school graduates, and most of all by those who had gone to college. Conversely, self-advance- ment was mentioned by only 15.6 per cent of those with some college, 23.6 per cent of the high school graduates, and most often by those with less than high school—27.8 per cent. In other words, the draft serves as a major inducement for better-educated men to volunteer while the belief that self- The American Enlisted Man advancement will be furthered through military service is much more typical of those with lower educational levels. (This pattern holds true for both white and black service¬ men. See Chapter 5.) Assessing the proportion of American men who actually serve in the military—regardless of manner of service entry or motivation for enlistment—has long posed special problems for social researchers working in this area. This is especially the case when trying to determine military participation rates by differences in social background. Fortunately, recent detailed analyses have shed light on this important question.6 As reported in Table 2.7, the incidence of military participation varies markedly by educational level. Looking first at the proportion of the total male population aged 26 to 34 in 1964 who have served (or were serving) in the armed forces, we find that it is men with intermediate educational levels, com¬ pared with those who have either more or less education, who have the highest military participation rates: less than high school, 54.8 per cent; high school graduates, 66.1 per cent; some college, 57.5 per cent; college graduates, 42.2 per cent. This reflects the greater probability for those with low educational attainment to fail mental entrance examinations, and the greater likelihood for those with college degrees to have re¬ ceived student and occupational deferments which in many in¬ stances become de facto draft exemptions. Serving in the mili¬ tary, that is, is overproportionately characteristic of men at the middle levels of the socioeducational spectrum—the American upper-working and lower-middle classes. When we look, however, only at the “qualified population” —that is, those who can presumably pass the entrance mental and physical tests—the bell-shaped educational distribution of military participation gives way to a quite different pattern. As shown in Table 2.8, among those qualified for the armed forces, the incidence of military service is linearly correlated with lower educational levels: less than high school, 85.5 per cent; high school graduates, 76.0 per cent; some college, 74.3 per cent; and college graduates, 50.0 per cent. In brief and at the risk of some overstatement, the likeli-

50 The Enlisted Man in the “New" Military

hood and nature of military service in terms of the American socioeconomic spectrum can be characterized as follows: the top quartile is deferred or serves at the officer levels; the middle quartiles serve at the enlisted levels; and the lower quartile fails to meet the qualifying standards of military entrance.

Occupational structure. Military manpower requirements are reflected not only in the proportions and kinds of men drawn into the armed forces but also in the diverse assignments they receive once within the military organization. A long-term trend noted by virtually all students of the military establish¬ ment has been the increasing allocation of personnel to techni¬ cal functions.7 This trend toward technical specialization was already apparent in the Second World War but became espe¬ cially pronounced in the 1950s. Although this technological transformation and emergence of new skill requirements was most evident in the officer corps, it also characterized the en¬ listed ranks. Given in Table 2.9 is a breakdown of occupational specialties among Army enlisted personnel from World War II to just prior to the war in Vietnam. We find that the proportion of men assigned to traditional combat specialties (i.e., infantry, armor, and artillery) has steadily declined : from 39.3 per cent in 1945 to 28.8 per cent in 1963. For manual laborers and serv¬ ice workers there has been a parallel but smaller decline. Over the same period, on the other hand, the proportion of mechanics and craftsmen along with administrative workers has shown some increase. But it has been the technical specialties which show the greatest proportional increase: going from 10.4 per cent in 1945 to 17.7 per cent in 1963. But even in the latter year, it should be noted, there were still many more men assigned to combat rather than technical tasks. Furthermore, as Harold Wool points out in his comprehensive study of military spe¬ cialization, the most pronounced shift away from combat and manual labor occupations occurred in the first decade or so following World War II.8 In the more recent period there has been relative stability in the occupational requirements of the armed forces. It would also be naive to believe that most serv-

51 The American Enlisted Man icemen classified as craftsmen or technical specialists have the same expertise required for civilian counterparts. Another qualification in assessing these and similar trend data is also in order. Only about 20 per cent of the men in the armed forces serve beyond their initial enlistments—a propor¬ tion that has been more or less constant since the end of World War II. And it is for those for whom military service is a short¬ term obligation that the probabilities of ending up in a combat unit are greatest. We are faced with the paradox that those least committed to the military as a career are the very ones who are the most military in the sense of getting killed or wounded in combat.9 As shown in Table 2.10, derived from the 1964 NORC survey, 28.0 per cent of draftees were assigned to combat arms compared to 24.5 per cent of first-term regular volunteers and 21.2 per cent of career regulars. We also find, however, that education has an even more pronounced effect on combat assignment probabilities. Whether draftees, first-term regulars, or career regulars, those with higher educational levels are much less likely to be assigned to combat units. Thus, looking only at draftees, the proportion of those serving in com¬ bat arms is 41.2 per cent among those with less than high school, 29.1 per cent of the high school graduates, and 15.5 per cent of those with some college. A similar pattern by education applies to first-term regulars and career regulars. Nevertheless, it remains true, especially at lower educa¬ tional levels, that the independent effects of military career status maintain even when education is held constant. Thus, the proportion of draftees with less than high school in the combat arms is almost twice that of career regulars with simi¬ lar education; even looking only at servicemen with some col¬ lege, draftees are still more likely to be in combat specialties than are career regulars. More striking than these data, how¬ ever, is the situation with respect to combat probabilities con¬ cerning the war in Vietnam. The Army has calculated that a draftee has a one-in-three chance of serving in Vietnam com¬ pared to a one-in-seven chance for a man in the regular Army.10 This is another way of saying that occupational distribu-

52 The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military tions revealed in tables of organization do not adequately con¬ vey the proportional military experiences of Americans who serve in the armed forces. If one takes into account the conse¬ quences of personnel turnover in the military, the number of American men who have performed traditional military tasks—combat specialties and manual labor—is greater than indicated by static figures pertaining to Military Occupational Specialties. In other words, single-term servicemen—those who constitute the vast majority of lower-ranking enlisted person¬ nel—are those most likely to be exposed to military life in its more traditional forms. Moreover, while it is certainly true that for many enlisted careerists the emerging technical char¬ acter of the military is paramount, it must also be remembered that every soldier, no matter how technical his assignment, is at the same time a member of a permanent unit where he is usually subjected to conventional military demands—guard duty, charge of quarters, inspections, field exercises, and the like. These considerations are meant not to deny the undoubted long-term trend toward expansion of technical positions within the military, but to place it in proper context. There is additional, albeit tangential, evidence bearing on the issue of the convergence of military and civilian skills. This is survey data reporting evaluations of military personnel and veterans concerning the usefulness of their military training for post-military occupations. Table 2.11 gives these data for active-duty servicemen. In all four services officers are more likely than enlisted men to believe their military training will be of considerable use in civilian employment. Also, hardly any difference exists between the services with regard to officer attitudes on this question. For enlisted men, however, not only is there a lower anticipation of the civilian utility of military training, but there are also notable differences between the services as well. About 41 per cent of enlisted men in the Air Force and Navy expect their military experience will be of great value in civilian employment—an expectation not much lower than that of officers—compared with 28 or 29 per cent of Army and Marine Corps enlisted personnel. Given in Table 2.12 are two sets of survey findings pertain-

53 The American Enlisted Man ing to the utility of military training in civilian life as seen by veterans. Unlike the data reported in the previous table, these findings reflect actual job experiences in the civilian market¬ place. The 1955 data were collected largely from World War II veterans while the 1964 data deal mostly with those who served after the Korean conflict. Thus, if there has been a growing convergence of military and civilian occupational skills one would expect the later veterans to report greater use for their military training than those who served in an earlier period. In fact, there are only small differences between the two groups, and those differences that do exist are in an unexpected direction. For the post-Korea veterans found their military training slightly less useful than did the veterans of the Second World War. In any event, whether one takes either the 1955 or 1964 figures, only a small minority of veterans stated their military training had substantial civilian utility. Moreover, the evaluations of veterans concerning their service experi¬ ences were much less sanguine than those of the active-duty personnel previously noted. It appears that once in the real civilian occupational world, the anticipated benefits of military training—an indirect measure of presumed civilian-military convergence-—proved to be largely illusory.11 But it should also be noted that the officer-enlisted pattern holds true for veterans. When the 1964 NORC data is broken down by the re¬ spondent’s former rank in the military, almost twice as many officer veterans, 15.8 per cent, than enlisted veterans, 8.9 per cent, stated their military training had been of considerable use.

Grade structure. Trends in enlisted grade structure as well as changes in occupational specialties offer another understanding of military organization. Reported in Table 2.13 is the distribu¬ tion of Army enlisted grades from 1935 to 1967. As has often been noted by other social researchers, there has been a con¬ sistent and marked upgrading of enlisted ranks over time. We find, for example, the modal pay grade was E-l in 1935, E-2 in 1945, E-3 in 1952, and E-4 in 1967. That is, an overview of changes in enlisted grade structure shows a shift from a tradi¬ tional “pyramid” distribution to one more resembling the shape The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military of a “diamond” or more accurately, to use Kurt Lang’s term, to that of a “flask.” Again, however, certain cautions should be introduced be¬ fore reading too much into the apparent changes in enlisted grade structure. The distinction between career and single-term enlisted personnel must again be invoked. Among enlisted ca¬ reerists the pyramidal grade structure is maintained. That is, if one excludes draftees and single-term volunteers—say by setting the baseline at E-4 or E-5—the contemporary grade structure parallels that of the pre-World War II period; a time when most active-duty servicemen were making a career of the military. A second caveat concerns the actual organizational meaning of the lower enlisted pay grades in the contemporary military establishment. It may be somewhat surprising to learn that there is no permanent position for a private—either E-l or E-2 —in the entire United States Army! These pay grades are ex¬ clusively occupied by new personnel in transition to permanent Table of Organization positions requiring at least an E-3 pay grade; or by individuals who have been reduced in rank in the course of disciplinary punishment. Moreover, the current Army modal pay grade of E-4—the rank of specialist fourth class (SP4)—has no more official military prerogatives than were associated with the older private grades in previous times. Like the private of old, the current SP4 is subject to kitchen police and pulls guard details at the lowest level (significantly still called the “private” of the guard). In fact, the SP4 is fre¬ quently referred to as a “glorified private” by enlisted person¬ nel. When one looks at the enlisted grade from the standpoint of who is most liable for unpleasant housekeeping and routine military duties, the same proportion of enlisted personnel—the bottom three-quarters or so—have always performed the lowly tasks. This despite the undoubted upgrading of enlisted pay grades from before the Second World War to the present. In¬ deed, I have often heard argued from soldiers with long mem¬ ories that the private first class (E-3) of the pre-World War II period was accorded much greater respect than that given to the SP4 in the current military organization. This is simply to

55 The American Enlisted Man say that formal changes in grade distribution have masked certain basic and underlying continuities in enlisted social organization.

Career paths. The incoming serviceman begins his military life with an abrupt and complete break with the civilian world. He must undergo a two-month period of “basic training” (Army and Air Force) or “boot camp” (Navy and Marine Corps). Starting from the moment he is sworn in, every re¬ cruit goes through an identical processing phase. He is tested, issued clothing, receives a regulation haircut, and given a pay advance (the “flying twenty-five”) to buy toilet and other personal articles. This process effectively strips the new soldier from most of his pre-service social status. He is acted upon either alphabetically, by roster number, or on a first-come-first- served basis. During this initial period, the recruit is subjected to intensive training in basic combat skills—much of it grueling —and experiences military regimentation at its most severe. The new serviceman has little time to himself and even less privacy, being on call for military duty twenty-four hours a day. He becomes versed not only in weapon skills but also in the routines of military life. With varying degrees of success, the recruit is socialized into acceptance of military values (e.g., “I belong to the best damn squad in the best damn platoon in the best damn company ...”). Even in basic training, however, some differentiation appears. A few men seem to be natural “eight balls” while others seem always to “stand tall.” The vast majority merely persists. After the ordeal of basic training is over, the recruit goes on to receive advanced training. This is where the serviceman acquires a primary Military Occupational Specialty (mos) which will largely determine his eventual duty position. Ad¬ vanced training can range from as short as two months (e.g., infantry, cook, construction worker) to three to six months (e.g., medical technician, electronic specialist) to over a year (e.g., foreign language school). The Army alone operates 26 military schools giving advanced training in some 350 occupa¬ tional specialties. For most regular volunteers the nature of

56 The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military their advanced training is predetermined by conditions set forth when they joined the service. It is for these men that the military is often looked upon as a means of learning skills use¬ ful in the civilian marketplace. (But too many volunteers are disappointed when they find they are ineligible for their re¬ quested training because of results on aptitude tests given after service entry. This is despite verbal assurances given by re¬ cruiting sergeants overly eager to meet enlistment quotas.) For draftees, however, there are no options in choosing ad¬ vanced training. It is always a time of trauma for the drafted soldier as he awaits notification of his advanced training assignment. Upon completion of his advanced training the serviceman is sent to his first permanent duty assignment. Theoretically, and in fact in most cases, this duty assignment will correspond with the MOS acquired in advanced training. At the less skilled levels, however, actual duty assignments are not inflexibly de¬ termined by one’s initial MOS. In many instances the distinction between “school-trained” and “ojt” (i.e., on-the-job training) personnel becomes blurred; that is, men frequently acquire appropriate skills in the course of their work assignments rather than going through a formal training program. More¬ over, at the line-unit level, a lower-ranking enlisted man who can type is placed more often than not in a clerical position re¬ gardless of his primary MOS. Draftees and single-term volunteers will most likely have only one permanent assignment during their military tour. For enlisted careerists, however, transfers are a periodic occur¬ rence. Such transfers can come about for a variety of reasons: standard rotation between domestic and overseas posts, pri¬ ority requirements in other commands for the individual’s MOS, self-initiated transfers to maximize promotion opportunities, preferences for particular geographical assignments, and so on. It is also possible, moreover, for an enlisted careerist to change paths by requesting advanced training in a specialization other than his current MOS. This can be most easily arranged at the time he is up for reenlistment. On the average, since the end of the Korean War, about four

57 The American Enlisted Man out of every five incoming servicemen leave the military after their first tour of duty. By component, less than one in ten draftees and about one out of four or five initial volunteers en¬ list for a second term—though in the Air Force the reenlist¬ ment rate of first-term airmen is often over 30 per cent. Among those enlisted men who do sign on for more than one term, however, usually over 80 per cent continue to reenlist until retirement—a figure that is fairly constant across all four services. Under normal circumstances, eligibility for retire¬ ment and pension benefits begins after twenty years of service, while thirty years is the usual maximum period allowed on active duty. The normal procedure for promotion is assignment to a table of organization “slot” calling for a higher position than one currently occupies. At the lower levels, a first-term service¬ man can expect to make the pay grade E-3 within one year and the pay grade E-4 within two years after his service entry. These routine promotions assume that the individual is mini¬ mally competent in his work and is not a disciplinary problem. But because promotions at the lower-ranking enlisted levels are largely routine, ways must be found to distinguish within the cohort of rank equals. This is done through the artifice of “date of rank,” that is, among those of the same pay grade, time in grade gives precedence. Thus, it is customary when E-3 and E-4 promotions are made for a favored few to receive their promotions several days ahead of the bulk of the troops. Promotion to NCO positions, however, is considerably more involved. In particular, at the very highest enlisted levels— E-7 through E-9—there is no presumption whatsoever of rou¬ tine advancement and such positions are reserved for excep¬ tionally qualified individuals. Advancement policies vary some¬ what between the services, but the Army’s system is illustrative of the general procedure. To be promoted to the grade of E-5 or higher, the soldier is ranked on a standardized scoring form. A score of 1,000 points is possible, divided as follows: active federal service, 100; time in current grade, 100; enlisted evaluation score (prepared especially for the promotion hear¬ ings) , 150; civilian education (including that acquired on

58 The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military active-duty), 75 ; military education (e.g., MOS training in serv¬ ice schools), 100; physical fitness, 25 ; enlisted efficiency report (prepared annually), 250; and promotion board appraisal, 200. And it is the latter item (entailing oral questioning by a panel of officers) that becomes the determining factor when the other items—as is often the case—do not sufficiently differentiate among rival candidates. Even after he has become an noncommissioned officer, how¬ ever, the soldier must attend special military programs to meet the requirements of his rank. These are NCO schools, which, un¬ like the schools for advanced specialized MOS training, instruct the student in standard Army procedures and leadership princi¬ ples. For the recent noncom, the nco school is a requisite for future promotion and is usually regarded as beneficial to his military career. But for older noncoms, attendance at the NCO school can be an extremely unpleasant time. For the NCO school treats its students in ways resembling that of the recruit in basic training. Despite his rank the NCO must stand inspections and be subjected to diverse forms of harassment. Moreover, he cannot mitigate his plight by recourse to the informal net¬ work of complementary favors developed back in his home unit. Rather, since each student is being judged in comparison with others, older noncoms are often hard pressed to keep up with the younger men. From an institutional standpoint, how¬ ever, the NCO school serves the function of reindoctrinating the noncom of whatever age level in conventional military practices. In other words, where the specialized MOS school is reflec¬ tive of the trend toward technical specialization within the military organization, the NCO school stands as a bulwark for the more traditional side of military life. Indeed, a good indica¬ tion of whether the military is converging or diverging from civil society—at least at the enlisted levels—might be in longi¬ tudinal assessments of the relative importance of technical MOS schools versus NCO schools for career advancement within the armed forces. It should be mentioned in this regard that in 1966 the Army introduced an NCO Academy for specially quali¬ fied recruits. Under this system, recruits could go directly to

59 The American Enlisted Man the NCO Academy after basic training in a kind of enlisted parallel with the long-standing Officers Candidate School. The result would be that recent entrants would see their first perma¬ nent assignments as sergeants. Inasmuch as the NCO Academy —like the NCO schools—emphasizes traditional military prac¬ tices rather than technical specialization, this program can be viewed as a step in the direction of divergence between military and civilian structures.

Civilian education. Along with the American military’s massive internal education system for military specialties, it has also become the world’s largest institution for civilian adult educa¬ tion. The United States Armed Forces Institute (USAFi) offers more than 200 correspondence courses at elementary, high school, and college levels to servicemen on active duty. There are also more than 6,000 correspondence courses given through USAFi by 40 cooperating civilian colleges and universities. Close to 1,000,000 servicemen annually take part in the USAFI cor¬ respondence program. Additionally, USAFI arranges group study classes when enough people—usually ten or more—are interested in a particular course at a single base. In these courses instruction is given during off-duty hours and taught either by qualified military personnel or by directly hired civil¬ ian teachers. During any single year, close to 250,000 students are enrolled in USAFI off-duty group courses. Under the Tuition Aid Program, the Defense Department also pays a major part of tuition fees for servicemen en¬ rolled in college resident courses taken during off-duty time. Such financial assistance for college resident courses is avail¬ able not only to men stationed in the continental United States but also to servicemen all over the world. The largest of the overseas programs is sponsored by the University of Maryland which has resident courses in Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East. In 1966 over 20,000 military students were en¬ rolled in that university’s overseas classes. It is estimated that between 5 and 10 per cent of all military personnel acquire some college credit through either USAFI or the Tuition Aid Program. It is the General Educational Development (ged) program

60 The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military

of the armed forces, however, that has the most immediate educational value for many enlisted men. GED allows for a test¬ ing procedure that permits a person to qualify for a high school equivalency certificate. Local commanders release men from their normal training schedules allowing them to take an organ¬ ized course of study during on-duty hours leading to the high school equivalency certificate. In most cases, the serviceman’s hometown high school will accept the GED equivalency and issue a formal diploma in the serviceman’s name. Each year nearly 100,000 servicemen receive a GED high school equivalency. During peacetime (i.e., between Korea and Vietnam) between 20 and 25 per cent of all Army enlisted personnel completed their high school education while serving on active duty. For career soldiers the figure is even higher. Close to one-half of all senior Army noncoms possess the GED equivalency—about twice the number who were civilian high school graduates.

Attitudes toward military life. In fundamental respects, en¬ listed life has much in common throughout all four services: rank structure and privileges, pay scales, access to post facili¬ ties, retirement programs, legal code, and so forth. But there are obvious and important differences as well. Each of the services projects a different image and each has its unique history, tra¬ ditions, and social forms. Stereotypically, the maintenance-shop and office atmosphere of the Air Force contrasts with the isola¬ tion and discomforts of shipboard life in the Navy which in turn differs from the rigors of field duty found in the Army and Marine Corps. In reality, however, the distinction of service roles is not so clear-cut. As one astute commentator has put it: “The situation is complicated in that the Army has its own air force and a small navy; the Navy has an air force and its own army—the Marine Corps. The Marine Corps, which also has an air force, does not, however, consider itself the Navy’s army. For a long time, the Air Force had only an air force but lately, it has managed to develop its own artillery, the intercontinental ballistic missile.”12 In any event, whether one stresses cross-service similari¬ ties or differences, there are notable variations between the

61 The American Enlisted Man armed forces in enlisted attitudes toward military life. As given in Table 2.14, derived from the 1964 NORC survey, we find that the Army has the lowest level of satisfaction among its enlisted personnel while the Air Force has the highest; the Navy and Marine Corps are somewhere in between. But even in the Air Force only slightly over one-quarter of enlisted men stated they liked military life very much. Although comparable civilian occupational data is needed to assess these findings fully, never¬ theless one can hardly avoid concluding that the incidence of malcontent within the enlisted ranks is widespread in all four services. And it is this underlying resentment of participation in the military, especially in the Army, which characterizes so many attitudinal features of enlisted social organization. A more detailed understanding of enlisted attitudes toward military life is afforded by determining the effects of military status (i.e., career regulars vs. first-term regulars vs. draftees) and educational level. In fact, when these variables are intro¬ duced there is more variation within each service than between the services. Such a breakdown is given for Army enlisted men in Table 2.15, which shows that a very favorable disposition toward service life is most characteristic of career regulars, 54.3 per cent; less so of first-term regulars, 15.2 per cent; and least of all by draftees, 3.8 per cent. At the same time, educa¬ tional level also has an independent effect (i.e., regardless of military status) on attitudes toward military life. Thus, we find that higher education is inversely correlated with favorable service attitudes. Table 2.15 further reveals that not only do military status and educational level have independent effects, but that taken together they also form a perfect matrix in predicting attitudes toward military life. And it is when the two variables are in conjunction that the effects are most pro¬ nounced. Thus, 62.7 per cent of the career regulars with less than high school like military life very much, compared to 16.2 per cent of first-term regulars who are high school graduates, and a minute 2.0 per cent of draftees with at least some college. (From data not shown here, the same pattern applies to serv¬ ices other than the Army as well, that is, most favorable atti¬ tudes toward military life are found among career regulars

62 The Enlisted Man in the “New” Military with less than high school, while first-termers with some college are least favorable.) Although these findings will not surprise those familiar with service life at the enlisted levels, they nevertheless illumine some of the structural sources of conflict within the military organization—conflict which in many instances over¬ rides that between enlisted men and officers. Indeed, it is often the strain between single-term servicemen and career soldiers overlaid by the cleavage between higher- and lower-educated enlisted men that underlies so much of the enlisted culture— a topic to which we now turn.

63 iTiiiu

The Enlisted Culture

The existence of an enlisted culture is a virtual truism.* As to the factors that generate and maintain it, there is more ques¬ tion. For in addition to qualities unique to a military environ¬ ment, the enlisted culture is shaped by certain peculiar demo¬ graphic and social-class features as well. In the first place, much of enlisted life reflects the modal background traits of its members—single men in their late teens and early twenties. Moreover, the enlisted culture is to a large degree a working- class culture in the elementary sense that, to begin with, most enlisted men come from working-class origins. This configura¬ tion of social traits—young, working-class, unmarried males— would alone give the enlisted culture a distinctive character. Indeed, if, as has been convincingly argued in another context, our civilian life no longer has a heterosexual bachelor sub¬ culture, the military remains as a vestige of male sanctity.1 In this meaning at least, the enlisted culture represents an anachronism in contemporary American society. The enlisted culture is, of course, much more than the col¬ lective product of the ascriptive social characteristics of serv¬ icemen. For whatever the parameters of its social composition, the norms and styles of life that make up the enlisted culture

The term enlisted culture rather than subculture is used advisably. I am aware that purists might regard the latter term as more accurate in the sense of the enlisted experience being a variant of a more general American culture. I have elected to use culture, how¬ ever, not only because of that word’s more popular connotation, but also because American military personnel share something in com¬ mon with their opposite numbers in the armed forces of other nations. The use of the term enlisted culture, then, is designed to focus attention on the cross-societal similarities among military personnel which serve to differentiate them from their respective civilian counterparts. The Enlisted Culture are ultimately founded on the realities of the social organiza¬ tion of the military. This is to say that, once within the armed forces, enlisted men regardless of prior class background constitute the “proletariat” of the military establishment. In a related sense, the military represents an anomaly in being a labor-intensive organization persisting into a post-industrial era. Throughout the armed forces there is a pervasion of make- work and underemployment of enlisted personnel. In the Army vernacular, there are an awful lot of “bodies” getting in the way of each other. If the ensuing discussion deals largely with the enlisted culture of the Army, the service with which I am most familiar, it is with the understanding that the Army situation is but one variant of more general cross-service en¬ listed experiences.

The enlisted setting. Even the vocabulary of the soldier is a veritable lexicon of men occupying a subordinate position in a regimented setting. A few common examples suffice for illustration, “gi” is not only a noun but also a verb meaning to clean something in a rigorous fashion. This is not to be con¬ fused with the verb “soldier” which means doing everything by “the book” or by “the numbers.” Actually, “to Gi” is close in meaning to “to police,” though the latter term assumes the cleaning-up process can be done in a more lackadaisical man¬ ner. Although the unpleasantness of kitchen police or “KP” is widely known in and out of the Army, only those who have pulled this fourteen-hour stint know the distinction between the relatively soft position of “dro” (i.e., Dining Room Orderly) and the grueling toil of the “pots-and-pans man.” A “detail” is not a small item but a work assignment, for ex¬ ample, a latrine detail, a grass-cutting detail, a supply-room detail, and so on. Even during off-duty hours the soldier is still subject to never-ending details. It is to escape such “harassment” (universally mispronounced with a strong accent on the second syllable) that soldiers flee from the com¬ pany area as soon as they can. An NCO does not perform menial labor but serves as “ncoic” (i.e., noncom in charge) of details. Other NCO duties include such tasks as “head

65 The American Enlisted Man count,” the person who tallies the number of men eating at each meal; and “cq” (i.e., charge of quarters) which involves minding the company at night and conducting a “bed check” to see that all men are back in the barracks by a specified time. “At ease” is not a command to rest but an order to stop talking or making noise. It is also an expletive addressed to constant complainers by their fellow enlisted men. Such chronic “bitchers” are told to get their “TS” (tough shit) cards punched somewhere else. Though every soldier is an integral part of the tremen¬ dously large organization that is the United States Army, his social horizon is largely circumscribed by activities occurring at the level of the company (around 200 men). It is within the confines of his company that the soldier’s personal asso¬ ciations are formed, and within which he is fed, housed, and issued equipment. Moreover, much of the soldier’s everyday service life is directly affected by policy issuing from the Orderly Room (actually several offices for the company com¬ mander, first sergeant, and company clerk). It is also at the company level—under Article 15 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice—that punishment is meted out for minor offenses: traffic violations, improper wearing of the uniform, missing formations, minor insubordination, and the like.2 In brief, the Army company is not only the arena for primary group relationships, but it is also the unit in which the func¬ tions of work, administration, residence, and legal control are conterminously carried out. While all Army companies have equivalent organizational features and similar formal controls over their members, each company still has its own distinctive character. Soldiers may find themselves in companies ranging from “chicken-shit” units (those excessively concerned with strict adherence to regulations) to “route-step” outfits (a term which has gen¬ eralized from noncadence marching to describing anything slipshod or sloppy). But whatever the general ambience of the company, the arrival of a new company commander is virtually certain to be accompanied by an abrupt reemphasis on military formality and discipline. The near inevitable consequences of

66 The Enlisted Culture

a change in command are captured in the following passage from one of Jere Peacock’s military novels:

Each time a new officer took over, there were always changes in company policy. The personal nuances of each officer, who wanted things done his own certain way (“I don’t care what you’re used to doing, this is the way you’ll do it now,” was a stock vehement introduction, usually haughty and frequently illogical) took at least a week of sufferance. There were always the immediate inspections, the quick promotions, the sudden reduction to private of several unfortunate pfcs. By the end of the week the new officer would feel that he had made his monumental presence felt. Of course, after that the company would revert to its old efficient methods of accomplishment.3

It is the duty roster kept by the first sergeant, however, which most immediately impinges on the daily routine of enlisted men. This is the record of who is due for recurrent work assignments: kp and private of the guard for lower- ranking men; CQ, head count, and sergeant of the guard for NCOS. Theoretically, all men are supposed to share equally in performing routine company-level duties. In fact, there are always a fortunate few—the company clerk and other indi¬ viduals deemed indispensable in their regular work assign¬ ments—who acquire the much sought “ed” status (i.e., exempt from duty). Also exempted are athletes who compete in inter¬ unit sports activities. If the company is going in for sports in a major way, the ED status of the athletes causes severe im¬ balances in the duty roster. While sports performances are a conversational mainstay among officers, any laurels his com¬ pany achieves on the athletic field are meager compensation for the enlisted man who is pulling KP twice as often as he would if the athletes were on the duty roster. For most en¬ listed men, the sentiments of First Sergeant Warden in From Here to Eternity are as widely held today as they were in the pre-World War II Army: “ED men and jockstraps are all the

67 The American Enlisted Man same, fugitives from straight duty. They ain’t got what it takes so they ride the gravy train.”4

The married serviceman. The account of enlisted life given up to this point is generally relevant to all soldiers regardless of marital status. But some mention is in order concerning the special situation of married enlisted men. Regrettably for our purposes, the military family is a most underresearched topic. Nevertheless, the distinction between married and unmarried men is an important one in the military, and certain brief observations can be made. In the first place, because married military personnel need not live in the barracks, their off-duty activities have little to do with the routine of barracks life. This is to say that at the end of the work day married men can go home to their families, while bachelor soldiers remain within the purview of the company’s jurisdiction being subject to pass policies and a seemingly endless round of barracks details. Moreover, in most garrison assignments, married per¬ sonnel do not make reveille, but report directly to their sections two hours later at the beginning of the regular work day. Indeed, there are the frequent whimsical conversations in the barracks on the desirability of getting married just to avoid living in the company area. From the married man’s standpoint, however, the armed forces have been notably deficient in recognizing the needs of military families. This is particularly the case for lower- ranking enlisted men. Thus, while government quarters are generally available for married noncoms, lower-ranking men must make their own arrangements on the local rental market. This on a salary that would beggar a single man. In overseas areas where dependents are allowed, the wife of a noncom (or pay-grade equivalent) will be transported—along with house¬ hold furnishings—at government expense. A lower-ranking enlisted man, on the other hand, must pay for his spouse’s transportation out of his own pocket. Of course, there are certain long-standing benefits for which all military depend¬ ents are eligible regardless of the rank of the husband, the most prominent of these being free medical care. Also, family

68 The Enlisted Culture

shopping- can be done at commissaries and Post Exchanges where prices average from 20 to 25 per cent less than civilian retail prices. A 1967 Defense Department study reported that a married sergeant with three children could save up to $500 a year by shopping at service stores.5 The expenses of setting up an independent household, the inconveniences of frequent moves, or being stationed overseas, result in many married servicemen having to live away from their families. Even prior to the Vietnam buildup, it was esti¬ mated that between 100,000 and 150,000 married servicemen were geographically separated from their families. A common pattern in these cases is for the wife to reside with her parental family during her husband’s period of military service. More¬ over, even when a military family is living in a single house¬ hold, there are frequent and extended absences of the husband owing to the demands of military training requirements, for example, naval cruises, time spent in the “field,” and “tdy” (i.e., temporary assignment to a station away from the home base). All in all, even in peacetime a substantial number of married servicemen—a reasonable estimate would be be¬ tween 15 and 20 per cent—are not living with their families. In time of actual war, the figure is much higher. Put another way, though about one-third of all enlisted men are married, the essentially bachelor character of enlisted life is even greater than indicated by the two-to-one ratio of single over married men. Moreover, the available evidence suggests that the pres¬ sures on the military family are much more severe than is usually the case in civilian life. One of the few professional studies done on the military family describes a situation of marked conflict between military requirements and familial responsibilities. Ruth Lindquist’s account of family life in a Strategic Air Command (SAC) wing strongly emphasizes the deleterious consequences of periodic separations on family stability.6 This strain basically derived from the frequent absences of husbands on tdy. Along these lines Lindquist found that the permanence of marriages was endangered by such factors as: (1) the fear of extramarital philandering by one

69 The American Enlisted Man or both partners; (2) the SAC work situation fostering matriarchal families; and (3) the excessive reliance of the SAC wife on her parental family for emotional support and protective functions. Another study dealing with military families, this one by Elise Boulding, comes up with what is probably a more balanced judgment, however.7 In essence, Boulding concludes that prolonged separation had its most adverse effects on families where there were already other indications of instability. This is to say that while extended absences of husband-fathers in military households certainly presents marital problems, by itself this is not a sufficient explanation of familial strain. Although the military traditionally has never been family oriented, it has recently initiated institutional programs in this direction. Activities such as the Army’s Community Serv¬ ice and the Air Force’s Dependents Assistance Program are efforts to make available a range of new services for enlisted personnel and their families. These include such activities as orientation lectures, legal and real estate advice, family counseling, baby-sitting services, and loans of infant furnish¬ ings, linen, and china. In all likelihood, the immediate future will see a continuing expansion of family services within the military establishment. From one point of view this develop¬ ment can be regarded as belated recognition of the needs of its married personnel on the part of the armed forces. But the establishment of family-service agencies within the armed forces can also be interpreted as another indication of the emerging differentiation of the military and civilian spheres. That is, to the degree that family needs are increasingly served by the formal organization of the military, to that extent will military families be removed from ties with civilian associa¬ tions and institutions.

Structured strain. It has almost become a cliche to portray the armed forces as an entity where total regimentation precludes internal conflict, or if there is conflict it is between the indi¬ vidual qua individual and the monolithic military system. In fact, there are a series of regularized conditions that generate

70 The Enlisted Culture

conflict throughout the military organization—within, across, as well as beween the officer and enlisted ranks. Some of this conflict is inherent in the formal organization of the military; other cleavages derive from differences in social background of servicemen; still other tensions reflect an intertwining of both organizational and social compositional factors. One can¬ not begin to comprehend the enlisted culture without appre¬ ciating the variegated sources of structured strain in the military. The most obvious conflict within the military derives from differences in rank and concomitant superior-subordinate relationships. The status differences between officers and en¬ listed men are well known and have already been commented upon. But in many ways the animosity between lower-ranking enlisted men and NCOS has come to override the traditional enlisted hostility toward officers. For in most cases, it is an NCO rather than an officer who directly supervises an enlisted man on the job. Owing to this close working association within an authoritarian and hierarchical setting, the potentiality for personality conflict is correspondingly heightened. More¬ over, in the company area where the troops reside, it is the NCO who must oversee unpleasant housekeeping details. Indeed, except for periodic inspections, soldiers rarely see an officer in the barracks. Even on the job—especially in line units—officers are generally socially distant figures from the enlisted man’s standpoint. As might be expected, promotion to an NCO position frequently results in strained personal relations be¬ tween the new noncom and his former equals. He may be accused—often with more than a tinge of envy—of forsaking his old friends and turning “chicken.” On his part, the newly promoted NCO feels he is taken advantage of when he tries to be a “good guy.” For understandable reasons, it is often con¬ sidered advisable for a recently promoted NCO to be transferred from his old company to a new one. Partially conterminous with the cleavage between lower- ranking enlisted men and NCOS is another important social distinction in the Army—that between “US” and “RA.” US is the prefix of the service number of a drafted soldier, while RA

71 The American Enlisted Man signifies a regular Army volunteer. In fact, the word draftee is rarely used among enlisted men in the contemporary mili¬ tary; rather the US appellation denotes such an individual. While lower-ranking soldiers can be either draftees or volun¬ teers, virtually all NCOS are RA. In fact, the term RA is often used by draftees as a pejorative adjective to describe spit-and- polish compliance with Army rituals. It is common for draftees to denigrate noncoms—humorously as well as viciously—as “Army bums” who cannot get a decent job in civilian life. This differs somewhat from the situation of World War II where, because men served for that war’s duration regardless of how they entered the service, NCOS were often draftees themselves. From the noncom’s point of view, the US is often regarded as an obstinate and spoiled youth who performs his military duties in a recalcitrant manner. It should go without saying that the actual behavior of individual draftees and career soldiers does not necessarily conform to these charac¬ terizations. But the stereotypes of US and RA do embody contrasting perspectives and commitments to Army values. It should also be kept in mind that the real marginal man of the enlisted ranks is the first-term regular volunteer, not the draftee. For it is the first-term volunteer who is caught be¬ tween NCOS seeing him as a potential career soldier, and the anti-Army norms of his drafted peers with whom he is in constant association. (The highest compliment a draftee can give a first-term regular is: “You sure don’t act like an RA.”) A quite different set of internal Army strains revolves around a pervasive kind of role conflict which cuts across rank differences and career commitments. The soldier must function in two formal settings, each of which can make contradictory demands on him: his work section (e.g., office staff, motor pool) or platoon (in a line unit) versus his company. In his section/ platoon, the soldier is supervised by several NCOS and an officer. There the soldier is evaluated by his superiors primarily on the basis of his job performance. In the company, how¬ ever, different standards are applied—ranging from the inexorable workings of the duty roster to the passing whims of the first sergeant. When promotions to E-3 and E-4 are to be

72 The Enlisted Culture

made, the advice of section/platoon leaders is taken into consideration, but in the final reckoning it is the company commander, usually in consultation with the first sergeant, who does the promoting. An exceptional worker in his section/ platoon may be the company disgrace in inspections. More¬ over, when the soldier is called upon for company duties, his section/platoon leaders may seek to exert pressure on the Orderly Room to release the man for section/platoon duties. (“If my man isn’t in the motor pool today, there won’t be any vehicles running.”) Naturally, each section/platoon has a different reputation on how successfully it “stands up” for its men. It is only in the company headquarters itself that the problems of dual demands are avoided; in this case the section leader and the first sergeant are one and the same. The conflict between company headquarters and work sections takes an especially aggravated form when the work sections happen to be of an office nature. In these instances, lower-ranking enlisted men tend to have relatively high formal educations. Thus, to the already existing structured strain be¬ tween the company and work section is added the compounding element of civilian class differences. For no matter what his civilian background or job assignment in the Army, the soldier must still perform housekeeping details and be subjected to his company’s inspections and restrictions. In other words, while a soldier’s section responsibilities may be much like an eight-hour-a-day office job, the company still invokes tradi¬ tional standards of soldierly activity. It is also the case that middle-class soldiers in office positions engage in many more strategems to avoid identification with the Army than do working-class soldiers in line units. Typically, office soldiers change to “civies” as soon as they are off duty even when re¬ maining on post. Line soldiers, on the other hand, are much more likely to wear their uniforms even during off-duty hours spent off post.*

This statement is buttressed by more than mere impression. In the summer of 1967 I positioned myself at the main gate of an American Army post in Germany for an hour or so on a Saturday night. From

73 The American Enlisted Man

Indeed, if it is the case that the white-collar versus blue- collar distinction is becoming blurred in civilian life, it retains an almost pure form in the cleavage between office and line soldiers in the Army. This is initially apparent in the work clothing of the two groups: office workers wear “Class A” uniforms on the job, while fatigues are the duty uniform of line soldiers. In situations where dress policies may not always be clear-cut (e.g., battalion headquarters) enlisted men in office positions will in almost all cases voluntarily choose to wear the formal uniform to distinguish themselves from the manual work sections. While the office soldier may view his company life as demeaning, he still regards himself fortunate in not being a line soldier. And it is the threat of transferral to a line unit that often keeps the office worker from getting too far out of line. (“If you don’t soldier here, you know where you can be sent!”) It would be hard to overstate the typical office soldier’s dread of being assigned to a line company and spending time in the “field.” That this sentiment operates in both directions was vividly illustrated during an evening I spent in a barracks building, one side of which was occupied by line soldiers and the other by clerical staff. When among the office workers, I was told that “they live like animals on the other side” ; when among the line soldiers, I was warned in turn of the “queers and fairies” residing on the opposite side of the barracks.

Authoritarianism and Egalitarianism It is the coupling of features inherent in the Army’s internal social structure with social compositional differences of service¬ men that largely accounts for the well-known aversion toward military life of lower-ranking soldiers coming from middle- class backgrounds. The resentment of such enlisted men—

my vantage point I could observe the exits of two barracks: one housing administrative and clerical staff, the other a tank battalion. Virtually every one of the office workers left their barracks in civilian clothes, while about half of the line soldiers wore their “Class A” uniforms. The Enlisted Culture

especially draftees with college educations—is most typically articulated as a broad indictment of the authoritarian charac¬ ter of the military system.8 It is proposed here, however, that the conventional anti-authoritarian argument of many college- educated enlisted men has an element of dissimulation. For it is the egalitarian as well as the authoritarian features of the military system that exacerbate the resentments of the college- educated enlisted man. This is to say that military life is one of the few social arenas where middle-class youth must compete on a relatively equal basis with persons coming from working- and lower-class backgrounds (many of whom are also members of minority racial and ethnic groups). But, more important, the period spent in the military is the first—and probably the last—time that middle-class youth will be subordinate to individuals coming from lower socioeconomic levels. In other words, much of the college-educated soldier’s animus toward military service is reflective not only of the authoritarian setup of the armed forces, but also of the social background of many noncoms. Moreover, the characteristic scapegoating of NCOS by college-educated servicemen is not nearly as frequently accompanied by similar denigration of officers: men who in most cases have social backgrounds equivalent to that of college-educated enlisted men. Put in a more formal way, it is the mitigation of civilian ascribed status resulting from the military’s universalistic standards of evaluation and promotion that generates much of the resent¬ ment of the college-educated enlisted man. This point was made evident repeatedly during the course of the field research and my own military service when talking to soldiers of various educational and class backgrounds. Not only was there a much greater defensiveness concerning en¬ listed status on the part of the better educated soldiers, but there were also the innumberable stories of how “I should be” or how “I almost became” an officer. It is an extremely rare enlisted man coming from a middle-class background who says that, if he must serve in the military, he would prefer being an enlisted man over an officer. Of course, many working-class soldiers feel exactly the same way. Nevertheless, I could not

75 The American Enlisted Man escape the impression that the resentment of middle-class soldiers—when compared to that of their working-class counterparts—was noticeably more likely to be based on personal pique rather than on hostility to the military system per se.9 Some empirical support for this line of reasoning is found in data derived from the 1964 NORC survey. Dealing only with enlisted men who stated they disliked military service, cross¬ tabulations were made on two relevant items: (1) educational level, and (2) responses to the question “Would you remain in service if you could qualify for an officer’s appointment?” The proportions saying they would reenlist if commissioned were as follows: 34.6 per cent (N = 3,887) of those with less than high school; 35.8 per cent (N = 11,314) of the high school graduates; and 46.9 per cent (N = 5,134) of those with at least some college. In other words, a markedly higher proportion of enlisted men at the highest educational levels indicated they could overcome their dislike of the military if allowed the opportunity to change and upgrade significantly their status within the armed forces. It would appear, then, that the re¬ sentment toward military life of the college-educated enlisted man is based at least as much on personal occupancy of a sub¬ ordinate position as it is with any principled disagreement with the hierarchical and authoritarian organization of the military. It is the juxtaposition of both authoritarian and egalitarian standards that produces the distinctive character of the en¬ listed experience. Put in propositional terms, the enlisted culture is derived from a social organization which under¬ utilizes—or if one prefers penalizes—middle-class individuals while simultaneously allowing persons from lower- or working- class background to participate with minimal acknowledgment of preexisting socioeducational handicaps. Such an enforced leveling of the classes has no parallel in any other existing institution in American society. This is the elemental fact underlying the enlisted culture. The result of this state of affairs is that because so many middle-class youths are “wasting” their time in the military,

76 The Enlisted Culture it is possible for those initially less privileged to compete realistically for advantages within the military system. Much of the military’s efficacy in basic education and skill training occurs because, unlike civilian educational, commercial, and industrial organizations, equal acceptance and involvement for all members occurs before or at least during formal train¬ ing procedures. Once admitted into the military, everyone has a place in the organization, independent—again relative to civilian structures—of prior social advantage. The general implication of this argument is that any efforts on the part of civilian institutions to replicate the military’s successes in basic education and skill training for America’s underclass will be fruitless unless there is some correspond¬ ing deprivation of large numbers of middle-class persons. Such an endeavor on a societal basis would mean far-reaching and radical reform of existing civilian structures as well as running contrary to strongly held social values.

77 The Overseas Serviceman

Over 7,000,000 American servicemen—not counting those seeing wartime service in Korea and Vietnam—have been assigned overseas since 1946. In 1969 there were some 300 major American bases—excluding Vietnam—in about 25 countries. In that same year, including secondary bases, minor military installations, and training missions, United States forces were found in over 50 countries. It is in this existence of a permanent overseas force that we find one of the most distinctive characteristics of the American military establish¬ ment. For unlike the civilian, the career serviceman can routinely expect to spend about one-quarter of his working life in a foreign country before his retirement. Moreover, some¬ what over one out of three single-term servicemen, even during peacetime, will spend most of their military tours in a foreign country. Such tours can vary from three-year stays with families in “choice” locales to shorter tours in “hardship” areas where dependents are not allowed. The consequences of a large overseas force, of course, are not limited to the varied experiences offered individual service¬ men. For not only has military service itself come to be looked upon as entailing extended periods away from the United States, but, more important, the requirements of overseas duty have become an integral feature of the social organiza¬ tion of the American armed forces. Furthermore, the presence of United States forces abroad has widespread effects on the host society, the most immediate being the creation of a local occupational group that comes to depend upon the American military for its livelihood. The purpose of this chapter, then, is to examine the sociology of overseas military installations from several standpoints. We shall look at the organization of the military community abroad, the range and patterns of interaction between American servicemen and foreign na-

78 The Overseas Serviceman tionals, and some of the responses of the local community brought about by the American military presence.

American Forces Abroad The existence of a worldwide complex of permanent American bases is, strictly speaking, a development of the aftermath of World War II and the ensuing Cold War. On a lesser scale, however, overseas military commands have a history dating from an earlier period of American expansionism. During the Spanish-American War, American troops were sent to the Philippines and, excepting the World War II interregnum, the United States has since continued a military presence in that country. In the wake of the Boxer Rebellion in 1900, United States forces in China maintained river patrols and manned garrisons which lasted into the 1930s. The acquisition of the Panama Canal Zone in 1903 led to the establishment of what are today some of America’s oldest continually operating mili¬ tary installations. In other Caribbean areas, in addition to numerous military interventions, American armed forces have formally occupied sovereign nations for extended periods: Cuba, 1906-1909; the Dominican Republic, 1916-1924; Nicaragua, 1922-1933; and Haiti, 1915-1934. Of a somewhat different order, a small number of United States forces re¬ mained in Germany from 1918 to 1923 after the defeat of that country in World War I. During the same period—in a still- much-disputed occurrence—an 8,000-man American expedi¬ tionary force was stationed in Russian Siberia from 1918 to 1920. It was only after the Second World War, however, that overseas bases became a paramount feature of America’s military posture. Starting with the occupation of Germany and Japan in 1945, large numbers of American men would for the first time see peacetime military service beyond their home country. With the onset of the Cold War, military bases outside the United States were given a new permanency. Thus in Germany, the formal end of the occupation in 1953 was not accompanied by a departure of American forces. Rather, United States armed forces continued to remain at peak

79 The American Enlisted Man strength in Germany and in other European countries under the status of NATO allies. (In an exception from the general pattern, American troops were completely withdrawn from Austria following that country’s neutralization in 1955.) In Japan, however, the signing of the 1952 Peace Treaty fore¬ shadowed a sharp reduction in American military strength; from over 300,000 men during the occupation to about 40,000 by the late 1950s. The troop reduction in Japan, however, was partially redressed by the permanent assignment of a large American force in Korea following the termination of the conflict in that country in 1953. For about a decade following the Korean War the over¬ seas locale of United States forces remained fairly constant: slightly under two-thirds stationed in Western Europe; about a third in the Far East; and smaller numbers in North Africa, the Middle East, and the Caribbean. The 1960s, however, have witnessed important changes in the overseas assignment of American forces. A force approaching 30,000 men was in¬ volved in the 1965-1966 American intervention in the Domini¬ can Republic. A sizable American military presence in France extending over two decades came to an end in 1967. Most im¬ portant, of course, there occurred the massive military buildup in Southeast Asia. Although one can only surmise what the post-Vietnam War posture of the United States will be, indications are strong that large numbers of American military personnel will be stationed in Southeast Asia for an indefinite period. The British withdrawal from “East of Suez” may also lead to new American bases being established in the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea. At the same time, a reduction of United States forces in Europe seems to be in the offing. Most likely, the 1970s will see American military per¬ sonnel remaining in Europe within a reduced NATO force coupled with a larger force in Southeast Asia and the Far East. Whatever the future holds, the fact remains that since the end of the Second World War to the present a remarkably consistent 30 to 35 per cent of all American forces have been stationed overseas. It may be surprising to discover that

80 The Overseas Serviceman neither the end of the occupation in Germany and Japan, nor the Korean conflict, nor the “New Look” policy of 1954, nor the growth of Soviet nuclear capability, nor the emergence of China as a major military power, nor the war in Vietnam, nor the burgeoning American involvement in counterinsurgency warfare has led to significant change in the proportion of troops stationed abroad. Looking at the contemporary picture, there were about 1,250,000 Americans stationed outside the United States in 1968. Although the number of United States military forces in many foreign locales is a classified matter, a compilation of available official records and informed opinions offers a fairly reliable estimate as to the geographical assignment of Ameri¬ can servicemen. This estimate for early 1968 is summarized in Table 4.1. The largest number of American servicemen—about 500,000—were stationed in Vietnam (almost entirely Army and Marine Corps). There were also sizable United States forces in other areas of the Far East: Korea, 55,000 (mostly members of the Eighth Army) ; Okinawa, 45,000 (all serv¬ ices) ; Japan, 40,000 (mostly Air Force and shore-based Navy personnel) ; Thailand, 40,000 (largely Air Force) ; the Philip¬ pines, 30,000 (largely Air Force) ; Taiwan, 15,000; and Guam, 15,000. Additionally, approximately 85,000 sailors were serving in the Seventh Fleet operating in the Pacific. Although the bulk of United States forces inl968 were assigned to the Far East, there were also some 330,000 servicemen stationed in long¬ standing bases in Western Europe. By far the largest number of the European Force, 230,000 men, was located in Germany (mostly members of the Seventh Army). Another 70,000 serv¬ icemen, principally support units and air personnel, were sta¬ tioned in other NATO countries and Spain. The Sixth Fleet in the Mediterranean also accounted for 30,000 men. Finally, in addition to the European and Far Eastern forces, important American bases are located in Canada, Greenland, Iceland, Antarctica, North Africa, Iran, the Azores, Cuba, and the Panama Canal Zone. The overseas military establishment of the United States is both massive and worldwide.

81 The American Enlisted Man

The Military Community Overseas The overseas community in retrospect. A hallmark of the con¬ temporary American military establishment is its large-scale permanent overseas community. This community, however, is neither entirely American, nor entirely military (nor, for that matter, is it entirely an establishment). It is a social organiza¬ tion that has come to display significant civilian features as well as those traditionally falling within the military sphere. Moreover, whether looking at its civilian or military aspects, the overseas community has a membership recruited from both Americans and foreigners. That is, four distinctive social categories exist within the typical military community abroad : (1) armed forces personnel performing assigned military roles (most of which do not, strictly speaking, entail combat skills) ; (2) civilian dependents whose life styles are similar to those back in the United States; (3) locally-hired foreigners who staff the base’s infrastructure, and who in some instances even perform semi-combat roles; and (4) inhabitants of the boom- town who cater to the needs of off-duty servicemen. In somewhat simplified form, the cross-cutting relation¬ ships between civilian and military features with nationality groups found in the overseas community can be summarized as follows:

Military Features Civilian Features

American nationals troops dependents

Foreign nationals locally-hired boomtown

employees , inhabitants

The stereotype of the military community overseas being a transplanted Little America does in fact come close to de¬ scribing those overseas bases where military personnel are accompanied by their wives and children. For it is certainly the case that dependents constitute an integral part of the over¬ seas military community in virtually all foreign locales—

82 The Overseas Serviceman excepting- notably, Vietnam, Korea, and Thailand—where American servicemen are stationed. Indeed, according to the 1960 census, 460,000 dependents of United States servicemen were residing abroad. (There is little reason to think this figure has changed significantly since that time.) Close to 840,000 of these dependents were in NATO countries, the majority living in Germany. Some 90,000 were in major Far Eastern bases located in Okinawa, Japan, the Philippines, and Taiwan. The remainder were found in smaller installations in other parts of the world. Moreover, these census figures do not include the large number of military families in the Canal Zone, Guam, Samoa, and the American-administered Trust Territory in the Pacific. Within the typical American overseas base, one finds a self- contained community whose needs are largely met by on-post facilities staffed with English-speaking personnel. The Post Exchange in particular occupies a central role. A large PX is in fact a well-supplied department store whose merchandise includes toilet articles, household appliances, photography equipment, hi-fi sets, clothing for both sexes and all ages, and a wide assortment of sundries. Within the PX-complex are barber shops, beauty parlors, snack bars, newsstands, and a variety of repair shops. Complementing the px there are the military-managed food commissaries, gasoline sta¬ tions, libraries, movie theaters, swimming pools, and “Class 6” (i.e., liquor) stores. Most overseas posts also have American Express branches where servicemen can bank and exchange currency. Moderately priced entertainment and dining can be enjoyed at officer and NCO clubs.* Military chapels perform religious services for the major denominations. Mail fees between overseas bases and the United States are exactly the same as postal rates within the

Illicit gain on the part of some club managers was made possible by lax accounting and purchasing procedures. Following a 1969 expose of a “ring” of profiteering NCO club managers, Congress initiated independent auditing of club financial records and stricter purchasing policies.

83 The American Enlisted Man

United States. The Armed Forces Radio operates a worldwide network playing a major part in maintaining the American aura. Similarly, television stations rerunning stateside pro¬ grams are also increasingly found in military communities abroad. Children are educated in on-post schools whose cur¬ riculum parallels that of the public school system back in the United States (though the military high school in Frankfurt, Germany, went a step further in 1968 by introducing courses in Afro-American culture and history). In 1969 the Department of Defense was actually operating one of the larger American public school systems: 327 elementary and high schools em¬ ploying 6,800 civilian teachers with an enrollment of over 165,000 pupils. In most circumstances officers and noncoms with depend¬ ents are eligible to reside in family housing on the base pro¬ vided by the government. And nearly all who can move into government housing do so. But, since demand for government quarters often exceeds availability, living accommodations for many families must be found “on the economy,” that is, off- post. Thus, lower-ranking enlisted men with families must accommodate themselves to the local renting situation. Even in such cases, however, life still centers around the on-post facilities. Moreover, even for those living off-post, differences in language and culture preclude intimate contact with local residents. Rather, for the family living on the economy, visits and friendships are typically with other military families. Whether by choice or necessity, whether living on-post or off- post, nearly all military families overseas find themselves associating almost exclusively with fellow Americans.

The boomtown. The overseas situation for the single service¬ man is, as would be expected, quite different. Bachelors along with men unaccompanied by spouses live in military barracks. Like their married counterparts, single servicemen also pat¬ ronize the post facilities. But the lure of off-post activities is constant and strong. Thus one of the most ubiquitous features of military bases overseas are the adjacent locally-owned com¬ mercial establishments catering to the wants of the soldier. The Overseas Serviceman

These “boomtowns”—with their bars, laundries, tailor shops, car washes, souvenir stores, massage parlors, and houses of prostitution—are a constituent part of the overseas military community.1 In this regard it is very relevant to note that a study by William Caudill found the population of the com¬ munity outside an Army camp in Japan complemented the sex and age ratio of the base proper.2 Directly to the point, over half of the boomtown’s inhabitants were females between the ages of 16 and 30. Simply put, for most single servicemen time away from the base means going to the boomtown where the ambience is one of Gi hedonism coupled with economic oppor¬ tunism on the part of the boomtown residents.* The activities of the boomtown can be gauged by several cycles. During the day, except for occasional servicemen on shopping errands and a few on pass, the boomtown is quiet. At night, however, especially on weekends, the boomtown is a scene of busy activity. The life of the boomtown also reflects the pay schedule. Immediately after payday, the activities of the boomtown are especially hectic. As the monetary resources of the serviceman become deplenished toward the end of the month, the tempo of the boomtown slows down correspond¬ ingly. Some level of activity, however, is maintained through¬ out the month. Regular patrons have established credit, and some servicemen with forethought go to the boomtown only at the end of the month to take advantage of the slower pace. The boomtown cycle, moreover, is directly affected by military training schedules. Large numbers of men may be sent to the field on maneuvers thus effectively closing the boomtown until their return. A similar shutdown in boomtowns near Navy installations occurs when the fleet is out to sea. During such

In many bars catering to American servicemen in the Far East, it is often the practice for bar girls to drink tea for which servicemen pay whiskey prices. Trying to prevent this occurrence, Saigon-based soldiers in 1966 initiated what was known as “Operation stif” (i.e., Saigon Tea Is Fini). When asked by a bar girl to buy her a drink, the soldier was instead to show a card: “I am a member of Operation stif.” This effort at Gi organization to counter boomtown exploitation did temporarily succeed in lowering prices.

85 The American Enlisted Man lulls, girls may be temporarily moved to other boomtowns, or the boomtown entrepreneurs may find it a convenient time to take vacations.

Foreign national workers. In addition to the boomtown resi¬ dents there is one other important group of local inhabitants with whom many American servicemen have regular and re¬ peated contact. These are the large numbers of foreign na¬ tionals working in a variety of capacities within the American military base itself. There exists in Germany a separate—and highly vocal—labor union whose 95,000 membership consists entirely of German nationals directly working for United States military forces. 1968 estimates in Vietnam placed the number of Vietnamese hired by American military units close to 100,000.* All in all, there are probably around 300,000 for¬ eign nationals permanently employed on American overseas bases throughout the world. For descriptive purposes, it is convenient to distinguish three different groups of foreign employees on the basis of the hiring unit. One group consists of employees hired at the post level. Among the post employees there is a status hierarchy in descending order of the following sort: (1) translators, in¬ terpreters, and secretarial staff; (2) clerks in the px and other military-managed enterprises; (3) craftsmen and maintenance workers; and (4) supply handlers and casual laborers. Except for a small number of supervisory personnel and cowork¬ ers, few American servicemen become acquainted with post employees. Another group of foreign workers are those per¬ sons employed in officer, NCO, and enlisted clubs: bartenders, waitresses, busboys, dishwashers, and the like. In this situation there is quite extended contact between the military personnel managing the clubs and the hired help. But for most servicemen patronizing the clubs, there is little reason or opportunity to have more than casual acquaintance with club employees. There is, however, a third group of foreign employees with

This did not include Vietnamese working for American construction firms or civilian agencies of the United States government.

86 The Overseas Serviceman

whom the individual soldier usually has intimate contact. These are the personnel hired at the company level who carry out many of the recurrent housekeeping tasks arising at the small unit level. Such workers are customarily paid for by monthly garnishments levied on the paychecks of enlisted men. In Europe, company-hired personnel includes the kitchen police —and often a barber and tailor as well. In the Far East, there are also “hooch boys” who care for the soldier’s personal equip¬ ment and quarters, and “mamasans” (the Japanese expression having been carried to Korea and Vietnam) who do the laundry and other menial tasks. For most Gis the relief from unpleasant work, particularly KP, is well worth the cost of the monthly assessment. Company-hired personnel can also augment their wages by doing a variety of favors for soldiers, including oc¬ casional sub rosa dealings. In fact, company-hired workers are oftentimes more con- tinously associated with the unit than are the American mili¬ tary personnel. While individual servicemen rotate out of the unit periodically (one, two, or three years depending on the locale), certain company-hired workers become something of a permanent fixture. Such workers are extremely well versed in the intricacies of the chain of command and the nuances of military jargon. They frequently serve as focal points for com¬ pany gossip and rumor, and much of the unit’s lore resides in these foreign employees. In many instances, company-hired workers even go out on field maneuvers becoming de facto parts of the unit’s military capacity by performing essential roles, for example, supply handling, servicing vehicles, setting up the bivouac area. A brilliant treatment of this occurrence is found in Richard McKenna’s novel, The Sand Pebbles. This account of an Ameri¬ can riverboat describes how Chinese coolies gradually supplant the American crew in running the ship. In time, the crew’s reliance on the Chinese leads the Americans to neglect their military duties. Although The Sand Pebbles is overdrawn, it nevertheless offers an insight into the not always appreciated role played by locally-hired foreign nationals in many United States military units overseas. Along with the more visible

87 The American Enlisted Man boomtowns, that is, what might be termed the “Sand Pebbles effect” is also a noteworthy characteristic of the structured relationships between overseas American servicemen and for¬ eign nationals. Put another way, where the boomtown is an ecologically defined community manifestly fulfilling nonmili¬ tary demands, the employment of foreign nationals within military units points to a social group which has come to per¬ form military tasks even though technically non-American civilians.3

The Overseas Experience Although the American serviceman overseas spends most of his off-duty time in the military community (whether on the post or in the boomtown), he may also take advantage of con¬ ventional tourist opportunities.4 It is almost certainly true that, for working-class American men, military service has become the chief manner for foreign travel. Throughout Europe three- day passes and furloughs to the Continent’s major cities are common. For servicemen of second-generation stock, overseas tours are often used as ways to visit European relatives. More¬ over, because of free military air transportation on a space- available basis for nonduty personnel, it is possible for the serviceman to travel long distances during a one- or two-week leave. Thus soldiers stationed in Germany can readily fly to England, Spain, or North Africa. Air travel across the Sea of Japan is virtually a shuttle service allowing Korea-based soldiers easy access to Japan. Even in the role of tourist, however, the overseas service¬ man frequently chooses to operate within the confines of the American military organization. Military-sponsored group tours are inexpensive and often oversubscribed. In Europe one of the most popular of such tours takes the serviceman to the Garmisch Recreation Area in the Bavarian Alps. In this Army- managed resort, the visiting soldier can enjoy at a nominal cost: lodging, golfing, boating, horseback riding, skeet shoot¬ ing, and hunting. In an effort to keep Gl tourism from leaving Korea, the Korean government has developed a serviceman’s resort on the Garmisch model at Walker Hill outside Seoul.

88 The Overseas Serviceman

Even in the war zone of Vietnam, opportunities exist for a kind of tourism. Servicemen are eligible for “r&r” (i.e., rest and recuperation) tours which do not count against their ac¬ cumulated leave time. These R&R tours—usually five days— require military orders and offer the serviceman free air trans¬ portation to any one of several cities, for example, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Manila, Bangkok, Singapore. Yet such r&r excursions to Asiatic cities are not, strictly speaking, tourist activities. Rather, they are more properly viewed as airborne extensions of the boomtown community. Inevitably, r&r has come to be termed “i&i” (i.e., intercourse and intoxication) or“l&l” (i.e., liquor and love). For many married men stationed in Vietnam, however, the ideal r&r locale is Honolulu. For if a stateside wife can arrange her own transportation to Hawaii, her hus¬ band’s R&R time can be a family reunion. Although it is usually true that the ex-serviceman will regard a peacetime overseas tour as a rewarding experience in hindsight, it is also the case that while actually abroad most servicemen count the days till their return to the United States. Despite the opportunity for foreign travel as well as the greater license to indulge in hedonistic pleasures, overseas duty is gen¬ erally seen as more burdensome than stateside assignments. Evidence to support this proposition is given in Table 4.2 where attitudes toward military service are contrasted according to geographical assignment. Data based on the 1964 NORC survey shows that 52.8 per cent of all Army servicemen based overseas stated they disliked military life compared to 46.5 per cent of soldiers stationed in the United States. While this difference is not large, it holds across all educational levels (keeping con¬ stant the fact that soldiers with higher educational levels are more likely to dislike military service regardless of geographi¬ cal locale). Indeed, there is the somewhat puzzling finding that soldiers with higher educational levels are more likely to be dissatisfied with overseas military life than are soldiers with lower education. Moreover, although there is no conclusive data on this point, it is also likely that duty abroad fosters an element of American chauvinism. That is, overseas servicemen become

89 The American Enlisted Man acutely aware of their American-ness for the first time. There develops a kind of spontaneous closing of the ranks in the face of linguistic and cultural barriers. Further, there are the con¬ stant invidious comparisons between American life and that observed overseas. Some of this attitude is due to the distorted picture of the foreign society acquired from the boomtown. But, more than that, the overseas soldier is naturally inclined to compare unfavorably the material standard of living he observes locally with that of the more affluent United States. While the serviceman’s overweening pride in things American is most apparent in the Far East, it is a worldwide characteris¬ tic. Gl overseas talk is replete with pejorative phrases describ¬ ing local items, for example, “a kraut telephone” or “gook matches,” the obvious implication being that American-made products are always superior in quality. Most probably, it is such manifestations of national arrogance rather than soldierly misbehavior that underlies whatever local resentment exists toward American servicemen.5 A complete picture of American servicemen in overseas locales, however, must include those who elect to remain abroad after leaving the service, for there are small colonies of former servicemen scattered throughout Western Europe and the Far East. Although their numbers are not large, the ex-Gi expatri¬ ates consist of several distinctive groups each with quite differ¬ ent motivations for staying abroad. (The newest group of expatriates—American deserters—will be separately discussed later in Chapter 7.) On the one hand, there are the commer¬ cial entrepreneurs who see remaining abroad as an opportunity for financial gain. Included here are some owners of establish¬ ments catering to Gls, and the salesmen of automobiles, mutual funds, and encyclopedias whose clientele are exclusively Ameri¬ can servicemen. In an important sense, however, such com¬ mercial types are not authentic expatriates but rather another facet of the broader American military community. On the other hand, there are those individuals, who have become genuinely enamored with the country in which they formerly served, and who may even suffer a degree of impover¬ ishment by remaining abroad. In most such cases, the former

90 The Overseas Serviceman

serviceman has usually become fluent in the local language (a conspicuous number being graduates of the Defense Language Institute at Monterey, California) and adaptive to the local cultural milieu. Such expatriates typically earn their livings by various translating and interpreting work, or by employment on local English-language newspapers.

Relations with Local Women Any account of military life abroad must take special cogni¬ zance of the sexual relations between American servicemen and local women. Indeed, from the viewpoint of many bachelor soldiers, it is the widespread opportunity for sexual promis¬ cuity that most distinguishes overseas from stateside assign¬ ments. The sexual availability of women is, of course, directly related to local economic conditions. Until recent years, in almost all overseas locales even lower-ranking enlisted men were affluent in relation to the local economy. This is still the case in the poorer countries of the Far East (e.g., Vietnam, Korea, Taiwan, Okinawa) where some form of prostitution is often the only economic recourse for girls of impoverished backgrounds. In Germany and Japan, however, general eco¬ nomic conditions have so improved over the recent past that the number of prostitutes catering to American servicemen has noticeably declined. Nevertheless, even in the Germany and Japan of today, the openness of commercial sex is greater than usually found in the United States. (Closer to home prostitu¬ tion : Tijuana, Mexico, has long relied for much of its trade on sailors stationed in San Diego, California; similarly, Juarez, on the Mexican border, attracts soldiers from Fort Bliss, Texas.) Gl sexual relations with foreign women fall into two basic categories. The most common occurrences by far are the casual relations in the boomtown setting: episodic contacts—either “quickies” or “overnights”—with bargirls, street-walkers, prostitutes in brothels, and (in the Far East) “nurses” in “massage parlors.” It is for these types of sexual activities that the boomtown serves as a buffer community between American troops and the bulk of the local population. Caudill’s study of

91 The American Enlisted Man a boomtown near an American base in Japan reports that this buffer function was explicitly recognized and approved of by Japanese authorities. The boomtown was seen as a way of safe¬ guarding “good” girls from the sexual advances of American soldiers. Similarly, spokesmen in Korea and Vietnam have long argued for the need to segregate and institutionalize vice areas for American servicemen.6 The other pattern of sexual behavior pertains to the serv¬ iceman who has established a semi-permanent relationship with one girl. These mistresses (variously called “onlies,” “steadies,” “shack-jobs,” or even putative fiances) are given a mutually agreed upon monthly sum by the serviceman which pays for a domicile as well as the girl’s (presumed) exclusive favors. (Boomtown entrepreneurs emphatically oppose such regularized relationships inasmuch as the soldier’s spending in the boomtown is effectively curtailed.) The Gl will—as often as his unit’s pass policy permits—spend his nights with his mistress. In Korea, where this arrangement is perhaps most frequent, a soldier may acquire a “moose” (a corruption of the Japanese musume—girl) shortly after his arrival along with a “hooch” (derived from the Japanese uchi—house). In some cases a departing Gl may even sell his hooch complete with girl to an incoming soldier. Owing to a pastoral letter sent by the Reverend Ernst W. Karsten in 1965 to Lutheran churches in the United States, this state of affairs caused the Army consid¬ erable embarrassment. Based on his observations during a visit to Korea, Reverend Karsten charged that virtually all Ameri¬ can soldiers were maintaining Korean mistresses. In fact, the allegations of the Reverend Karsten were greatly overstated. Mistress relationships, while occurring to some degree in all overseas locales, characterize only a small minority of servicemen. Although the frequency of mistress relationships cannot be specified with absolute finality, some convincing empirical evidence on this issue does exist. A 1955 survey conducted by Roger Little collected data on the sexual behavior of 1,300 soldiers stationed in Japan. As shown in Table 4.3, sexual contacts with local women were grouped into four categories: 18 per cent of the soldiers had no sexual con-

92 The Overseas Serviceman tact whatsoever; 62 per cent had sexual relations with prosti¬ tutes on an episodic basis; 17 per cent had regular sexual con¬ tact with a mistress; and 3 per cent were married to Japanese women. Significantly, as also reported in Table 4.3, these 1955 figures for Japan-based soldiers are remarkably close to an¬ other large survey taken in 1965 among American soldiers in Korea. The later Korean survey showed 16 per cent of the soldiers had no sexual contact with Korean women; 62 per cent had episodic relations with prostitutes; and 22 per cent had established a mistress relationship.* Although both the 1955 Japan and 1965 Korea surveys have the usual problems involved in self-reported behavior, they do nevertheless present a consistent picture of the sexual life of servicemen overseas. These survey findings, moreover, corre¬ spond to my own impressions of the sexual behavior of Ameri¬ can soldiers stationed abroad. Generally speaking, one can say that about one-fifth of the men do not engage in any sexual activity with local women, about another one-fifth have regular mistresses, and the remaining three-fifths have casual relations with prostitutes.7

American orphans. One of the saddest legacies of America’s military presence overseas are the illegitimate babies fathered by Gls. Though the number of American-fathered illegitimate offspring will never be known, it is sufficient to have created a major social problem in all locales where large numbers of American troops have been stationed. In Germany, where American forces have been stationed since World War II, esti¬ mates place the number of Gi-illegitimate babies between 80,000 and 120,000. (Referring to these American-fathered children, there is a German saying: “In the next war just send the uni¬ forms ; you left the Army here.”) In cases of white-fathered offspring, the racial attributes of the children are such that they are indistinguishable from the general German popula-

Unlike Japan, military dependents are not allowed in Korea. Hence, ho American serviceman can be “legally” residing with his Korean wife while stationed in Korea.

93 The American Enlisted Man tion, thus partially alleviating their plight. But for black- fathered children the child is stigmatized as illegitimate and the resultant social discrimination for such misch.linge is severe. In the Far East, however, the children of American service¬ men—whether white or black—suffer both the handicaps of illegitimacy and the additional discrimination of race. The novelist Pearl S. Buck, who has established a foundation specif¬ ically to assist Gl orphans in the Far East, claims one out of ten United States servicemen in Asia leaves a child behind. Social workers in Japan place the number of konketsuji be¬ tween 30,000 and 60,000. In Korea there are an estimated 15,000 to 30,000 honhyula. By the end of 1968, American- fathered babies in Vietnam already numbered between 10,000 and 15,000. But even in the Orient, it is the black-fathered child who suffers the greatest discrimination. For whatever reason, there is a widespread assumption that a black baby’s mother was a prostitute while a white baby is the offspring of a love relationship. A social worker in Japan bluntly stated to me that the best solution for Negro-Japanese children is migration to Brazil. The official attitude—or better, the lack of it—of the United States concerning Gl orphans is an international scandal. No American governmental aid is given directly to American- fathered children or to local orphanages where such children maybe placed. (However, American servicemen overseas pe¬ riodically make donations to local orphanages on a “voluntary” basis. Appeals to the troops on such occasions usually conclude with the admonition : “Remember, all those kids are Ameri¬ cans.”) Moreover, under existing American law, such illegiti¬ mate children have no rights or even priorities for American citizenship even if paternity is acknowledged by the father. Children of American fathers and foreign mothers can qualify for United States citizenship only if their parents are legally married. The harshness of the American position toward Gl orphans can be contrasted with that of the French. Under French law, an unmarried man who officially acknowledges paternity automatically confers French citizenship upon his The Overseas Serviceman offspring without marrying the mother. Of an estimated 10,000 children born out of wedlock and fathered by French soldiers in Vietnam, about 4,000 were eventually brought to France. It is indicative of the general American attitude that even the laudable efforts of the Pearl Buck Foundation seek to adjust GI orphans into the societies in which they are born rather than opening opportunities for them to come to the United States.

Marriage. As is to be expected, overseas duty often results in marriage for American servicemen. The actual number of serv¬ icemen’s marriages to foreign wives, however, has never been compiled centrally. An informed guess would place the number of such marriages since the end of World War II as between 150,000 and 200,000 in Europe, and between 50,000 and 100,000 in the Far East. Moreover, it is extremely difficult to generalize about the social background of servicemen’s wives who were met abroad. Undoubtedly, some come from the boomtown com¬ munity. More often, they are women employed on the military base. And there are also many cases of servicemen who in one way or another met their spouses in the civilian community at large. In any event, whatever the circumstances of the couple’s meeting, a serviceman who decides to marry a foreign woman finds formidable obstacles in his way. Before the marriage can take place, he has to accomplish the following steps: (1) he must fill out a theater-of-operations application; (2) three cop¬ ies of his and the woman’s birth certificate are required; (3) he must have the approval of the commanding officer; (4) if under 21 years of age, the soldier must have written permission from his parents; (5) he must complete a Department of De¬ fense form and, (6) fill out a State Department marriage and visa questionnaire; (7) if the wife-to-be has been married or has children, the soldier must obtain records of the divorce decrees and birth certificates in both languages; (8) he must have a counseling session with the chaplain; (9) there must be an intelligence and morals investigation of the woman, and (10) a notarized affidavit that all of the preceding has been complied with. If pursued diligently and no unforeseen prob-

95 The American Enlisted Man lems arise, the actual wedding ceremony can take place about six months after submission of the first application. The intended purpose of this bureaucratic labyrinth is to discourage hastily formed marriage plans. It is evident, never¬ theless, that many servicemen do persevere and eventually manage to marry while overseas. Indeed, it can be argued that a couple willing and able to overcome such obstacles has already demonstrated a matrimonial commitment far exceeding more conventionally undertaken marriages in the United States. It is possible for an overseas soldier to avoid this long and in¬ volved process, however, by merely arranging for a civilian marriage. But if he selects this option, his wife is not eligible for post privileges, allotment checks, free medical care, and a variety of other benefits. Also, without a military approved marriage the serviceman cannot receive permission to live per¬ manently off-post. For all practical purposes, then, a bona fide marriage overseas for a serviceman entails working through the military system. The greater likelihood of career enlisted men serving mul¬ tiple overseas tours is correspondingly reflected in the con¬ spicuous proportion of noncoms with foreign-born wives. Di¬ rect evidence for this observation is found in two studies. William Kenny and Albert Kastl, in a study dealing with American-Vietnamese marriages between 1964 and 1966, re¬ ported that soldiers with four or more years of service were three times more likely to marry Vietnamese women than soldiers with less time in the military.8 Even more striking, Little’s 1955 data in Japan showed regular Army volunteers were seven times more likely to have Japanese wives than were draftees.9 It is probable, moreover, that avoidance of the prob¬ lems entailed in racially mixed marriages in civilian life is an important reason behind many decisions to remain in the armed forces. The tensions cross-national, interracial mar¬ riages (e.g., white-Oriental, black-Oriental, white-black) pro¬ voke in the American community at large are much less evident in the more racially egalitarian setting of military life. Put in a broader perspective, the existence of a worldwide American military establishment accounts in all probability

96 The Overseas Serviceman

for the bulk of cross-racial marriages in contemporary American society.

Troop Indoctrination The actual arrival of a serviceman to an overseas station usu¬ ally takes place in one of two quite distinctive ways. In one situ¬ ation he is part of an entire military unit arriving overseas en masse. In this instance all members of the unit—excepting a few noncoms who may be returning to locales where they pre¬ viously served—will be facing in common the novelty of service abroad. Moreover, primary group ties formed within the unit back in the United States carry over to a large extent and par¬ tially structure the subsequent overseas experience. In the sec¬ ond occurrence, a serviceman is assigned overseas as an indi¬ vidual replacement or “filler.” In this circumstance he will spend a few days in a receiving company before being sent on to a regular duty station. Once assigned to his permanent unit, the replacement must concurrently incorporate himself into the existing social organization of his new outfit along with adapting to overseas duty.

Official orientation. Whether he is sent overseas as a constituent member of a unit or as an individual replacement, the soldier is given a series of mandatory orientation lectures shortly after his arrival. The officer in charge of the orientation gives a rou¬ tine account of processing procedures, the area’s chain of com¬ mand, and the military facilities available to servicemen. The soldier is admonished to respect local customs, to take advan¬ tage of standard tourist attractions, and generally to behave in a responsible manner. A packet is distributed which includes attractive Department of Defense pamphlets giving thumbnail sketches of the host country’s history, geography, and culture.10 Before the orientation sessions are concluded, however, a quite different note is introduced. A noncom will give a final talk in a tone of gusto “telling it like it is.” The troops are alerted that they are entering an area where the pleasures of the flesh can be readily enjoyed, told of the prevalence of venereal disease, and forewarned of the thievery of the local population. Con-

57 The American Enlisted Man spicuously absent throughout the entire orientation period is a spokesman of the host country. While the substance of the orientation lectures and pam¬ phlets vary by locale, there is a common emphasis on America’s defensive role in protecting the “free world” from foreign Communist aggression : Germany from the Soviet Union and Warsaw Pact nations; South Korea from North Korea and China; and South Vietnam from North Vietnam. On the whole, however, the political content of the orientation materials is relatively muted. Rather, the main thrust of the formal indoc¬ trination stresses the need to maintain friendly relations with local peoples and the necessity for American servicemen to fulfill the obligations of “ambassadors in uniform.” Illustrative of this concern are the “10 Commandments” issued to Marine Corps personnel in Vietnam:

1. Wave to all Vietnamese. 2. Shake hands when meeting people, whether it be for the first time or upon subsequent meetings. 3. Respect graves, tombs, and other religious buildings or shrines. 4. Afford normal courtesies such as deference and respect to elders, respect for authority of the village and hamlet officials. 5. Give the right of way (on the road and paths) whenever possible. 6. Treat women with politeness and respect. 7. Recognize that hand-holding among Vietnamese males is a custom of comradeship in South Vietnam and not an indica¬ tion of homosexual tendencies subject to ridicule and mockery. 8. Keep your word. Be slow to make promises, but once they are made, do your best to keep them. 9. Enter into the spirit of bartering without abuse, and respect the local methods of conducting business. 10. Return what you borrow, replace what you break, and avoid unnecessary “liberation” of local items for your personal use.

98 The Overseas Serviceman

Even after the initial orientation period, the overseas soldier continues to receive ongoing formal indoctrination. Like his stateside counterpart, the overseas soldier must attend regularly scheduled lectures in Command Information (which replaced in 1964 the previously termed “ti&e,” i.e., Troop Information and Education program) and classes in Character Guidance given by chaplains. Unlike the American based serviceman, however, these lectures are devoted largely to Gi relations with local populations. Nevertheless, whether given abroad or in the United States, Command Information and Character Guidance are usually met with either bored resignation or bemused cynicism on the part of most enlisted men. Having much more immediate and continuing relevance to the American serviceman abroad are two of the Defense Department’s most venerable overseas institutions : the Stars and Stripes and the Armed Forces radio and television network. It was the First World War that brought into being the weekly Stars and Stripes—“the soldier’s newspaper”—which played a major internal propaganda role for the American Expeditionary Force. (The quality of the World War I Stars and Stripes is indicated by the names of some of its staff members who went on to achieve eminence in the field of letters and journalism: Harold Ross, Franklin P. Adams, and Alexander Woollcott.) The present daily version was founded in London in 1942. Since the end of World War II the European edition has been published in Germany and the Pacific edition in Japan. In 1969 the Stars and Stripes had a daily press run of 300,000. Its readership is probably close to one out of every three overseas servicemen. The newspaper carries no com¬ mercial advertisements and is exclusively sold overseas: ten cents in Europe, five cents in the Far East, and free to field soldiers in Vietnam. In garrison, the paper can be purchased on the day it is printed ; in the field its distribution is more irregular but still substantial. The Stars and Stripes has a permanent staff of civilian and military (officers and enlisted men) writers. The paper carries its own features (especially on sports), syndicated

99 The American Enlisted Man comic strips, and material from the American press services. All current events with political content are handled in an exceedingly cursory and bland fashion. Rather the “news” portion of the Stars and Stripes deals largely with natural disasters, major civilian accidents, and—during wartime— accounts of American military victories and soldierly heroics. In recent years, however, the newspaper has also taken a noticeable anti-deviant line (e.g., “LSD User Drills Hole in Own Skull,” “Hippie’s Arm Severed in Robbery,” “Posh Pot Party Ends in Death”). As large as is the influence of the Stars and Stripes, the Armed Forces network has an even greater media impact on the overseas soldier. Founded in World War II, the Armed Forces network today has 250 radio stations and 35 television outlets throughout the world. Listenership comes close to including all active-duty personnel overseas. Because of the ubiquity of the transistor radio, moreover, the Armed Forces network is regularly listened to even by field soldiers in combat zones. The bulk of the radio programing consists of rock ’n’ roll, country and Western music, and sports coverage. News broadcasts correspond to about what one would hear on commercial networks in the United States. The Armed Forces network also broadcasts a limited amount of classical music and “educational” programs (e.g., Meet the Press, Invitation to Learning). In general, however, the military’s official news¬ paper and broadcasting services are not well received by the intellectually inclined serviceman. As the college-educated protagonist in C.D.B. Bryan’s novel writes home: “The idiot Armed Forces radio feeds its same old pap to the sub-teen (mentally) audience which listens to it. And that symbol of enlightened reporting, the Pacific edition of the Stars and Stripes, tells us nothing.”11 Such condescension probably says as much about the college-educated soldier’s alienation from the enlisted culture as it does about the content of the official media. Although both the Stars and Stripes and the Armed Forces network are house organs, each in a modest way had tradi¬ tionally maintained some independence from the Pentagon.

100 The Overseas Serviceman

The radio network in particular has been one of America’s best unsung advertisements. (Armed Forces radio has an eavesdropping audience of foreigners estimated at twenty times that of Voice of America English-language broadcasts!) Two recent policy decisions, however, curtailed what little autonomy existed. In 1967 the Armed Forces network was changed from being run by civilian professional broadcasters loosely controlled by the Army into a network directly managed by the military. Independent news broadcasts were discouraged and petty censoring introduced (e.g., the National Liberation Front must be called the Viet Cong, news of the neo-Nazi German National Democratic Party is downplayed). Also in 1967 the regional editions of the Stars and Stripes could no longer print material directly from the wire services. Under the new regulations the news reported in all Stars and Stripes editions concerning national and international issues is pre¬ packaged by the Armed Forces News Bureau in the Pentagon. Staffers in both the Stars and Stripes and the Armed Forces network have vigorously protested the moves toward greater centralized control of the military media. Considering the widespread impact of the official media on American military personnel overseas, it is distressing that so little public atten¬ tion has been given to these new restrictive policies.

Independent media. American soldiers overseas are not limited solely to official military media for their printed news and entertainment. In Vietnam alone, the Army Post Office esti¬ mates that 2,000,000 copies of United States newspapers are received each month by American servicemen. (Many news¬ papers have reduced or free subscription policies for hometown men serving overseas.) Hometown newspapers—which being sent by surface mail arrive quite late—are read not for their coverage of national and international events but rather for local news. Soldiers from smaller towns are particularly inter¬ ested in high school sports events on the local scene and wedding announcements. Magazine subscriptions are also common. Far and away the most popular magazine is Playboy which has come to occupy a privileged position in the soldier’s

101 The American Enlisted Man reading. Not only is it individually subscribed to, but many companies also have collective subscriptions to the magazine paid for from unit funds. Whether individually or collectively subscribed to, however. Playboy (and any girly magazine) is often “liberated” before it reaches the intended reader. The most significant independent newspaper for the Ameri¬ can soldier abroad is the Overseas Weekly. Published in Europe since 1950, the newspaper under its publisher Mrs. Marion Rospach has developed into a unique periodical—a commercial enterprise aimed at an enlisted military audience. With its headquarters in Frankfurt, Germany, the Overseas Weekly has a press run of around 50,000. Most of the newspaper’s staff are ex-Gis who joined the Overseas Weekly after com¬ pleting military service overseas. The Overseas Weekly has no news agency ties and confines itself almost entirely to three subjects: sports; court-martial stories in which testimony about sex cases is explicit; and what is happening to the Gi, particularly what the officers are doing to him. The paper long ago acquired the nickname of the Oversexed Weekly by blending pinups with come-on headlines: “Torso Killer Lt Mad, Headshrinkers Rule,” “Captain Seduced My Wife, Genius Gi Tells Court,” “Raped Twice in boq, Army Nurse Charges,” “Old Sarge Drops Dead on Gen’s pt March.” Yet along with its lurid tabloid qualities, the Overseas Weekly has a consistent editorial viewpoint. The newspaper is for racial equality, articulates a kind of democratic populism, and is forthrightly concerned with Gi rights. Most character¬ istically, it has continually exposed the sometimes unbelievable antics of officers. For example, the battalion commander who made a practice of roping up soldiers who returned late from leave and having them led around the base; or the lieutenant colonel who dressed his twelve-year-old son in a military uni¬ form to help conduct troop inspections. It was the Overseas Weekly that in 1961 first broke the story of Major General Edwin Walker’s efforts to indoctrinate the men under his command (the 24th Infantry Division) with a program of extreme conservative political content. In his subsequent testimony before the Senate subcommittee in-

102 The Overseas Serviceman vestigating his relief from command, General Walker stated : “We have Communists and we have the Overseas Weekly. Neither is one of God’s blessings to the American people or their soldier sons overseas. Immoral, unscrupulous, corrupt and destructive are words which could be applied to either.”12 (General Walker further testified why he used the standards of the rightist Americans for Constitutional Action as proper guidelines for troop voting: “The Stars and Stripes is as much biased to the left as the aca Index is biased to conservatism.”1'*) Although most officers generally concede that the Overseas Weekly gets its facts right, the paper is nevertheless regarded as encouraging disrespect for the military establishment. In fact, the paper is paying a price for its candid coverage of the indiscretions of military officialdom. In 1966 the Overseas Weekly set up a Far Eastern edition (published in Hong Kong) but has had its circulation effectively limited by being denied space on military newsstands in Asia. The Defense Depart¬ ment’s official argument is that there is no available newsstand space. The Overseas Weekly has taken its case to the federal courts charging a violation of freedom of the press. Whether or not the Overseas Weekly is allowed on military newsstands, it will continue to have a large and loyal reader- ship within the military community. To a large degree the popularity of the Overseas Weekly is due to the innocuous quality and government-laundered features of the Stars and Stripes. Where in World War II, the “B-Bag” letters-to-the- editor column of the Stars and Stripes and the cartoons of Bill Mauldin served as an outlet for Gi grievances, it is the Overseas Weekly that now performs this function for the armed forces overseas. It would not be much of an exaggeration to state that the Overseas Weekly has become the enlisted man’s newspaper in contemporary times.

Host Country Attitudes Toivard American Servicemen From the viewpoint of the overseas soldier, it frequently seems that much of the local population is directly involved with American military personnel. Yet because virtually all GI interaction with foreigners occurs within the boomtown

103 The American Enlisted Man setting or with military-hired foreign nationals, the over¬ whelming majority of the local population has in fact little if any personal contact with American servicemen. Some docu¬ mentation on the attitudes of certain host countries toward American military personnel is found in the United States Information Agency (usia) surveys periodically conducted in countries where American forces are stationed. This informa¬ tion, however, is not usually released for public record until ten years after its collection. Thus the USIA data for Germany, France, and Japan given in Tables 4.4 and 4.5 are based on in¬ formation collected in 1958. Although the reported findings are admittedly dated, nevertheless they do offer a revealing pic¬ ture of cross-national reactions to the American military presence. Except for recent activities directed against the war in Vietnam, moreover, there is little reason to believe that the underlying pattern of Gi-foreigner relations indicated in these tables has changed much in the past decade. As reported in Table 4.4, there is a remarkable consistency across all three countries in the degree of contact between local populations and American servicemen. That is, whether look¬ ing at Germans, Frenchmen, or Japanese, about one in five had never even seen a soldier from the United States, and about seven out of eight persons had never met an American service¬ man. Similarly, in each of the three countries only about 3 or 4 per cent of the local population had come to know an American serviceman fairly well. These parallel but cross-national find¬ ings are somewhat surprising if one takes into account the obvious cultural differences and varying American military roles between the three countries. Although the degree of contact between local populations and American servicemen in Germany, France, and Japan were similar, significant differences existed between the three countries’ evaluations of the behavior of American service¬ men. As shown in Table 4.5, we find the behavior of American soldiers was regarded much more favorably in Germany when contrasted to either France or Japan. Among those having an opinion on the matter, 57 per cent of the Germans compared The Overseas Serviceman

to 23 per cent of the French and 21 per cent of the Japanese stated they found the behavior of American soldiers to be good. Conversely, 28 per cent of the French and 19 per cent of the Japanese compared with 6 per cent of the Germans described American troop behavior as poor. The 1958 USIA data given in Table 4.5 also allows for cross¬ national comparisons by socioeconomic status. (However, the manner in which the USIA defined these class groupings is not specified.) In Germany and Japan, the differences between the classes were not large; although there was a definite tendency for favorable opinions of American servicemen to be correlated with higher social status. In France and Japan, class attitudes toward American troops were not only in the same direction but also much more clear-cut. Almost twice as many Frenchmen and Japanese from the upper-middle class gave good evaluations of United States forces as did persons from the working class. To some degree the French findings reflected the anti-NATO policies of the French Com¬ munist Party—the working-class party of that country—as well as personal disapproval of American troop behavior. (Since the 1958 data were collected, of course, even Gaullist policies veered toward an anti-NATO position.) In Japan, likewise, the working-class-supported Socialist Party has adopted an anti-American stance at least with regard to revising Japanese-American security agreements. Without supplementary data, it is difficult to unravel the interplay between the political programs of working-class parties and working-class attitudes toward American service¬ men. Nevertheless, it is very probable that working-class sentiments toward American troops are more than just an outcome of political party membership. For it is also the case that even in Germany, where the Social Democrats are sup¬ porters of the American military presence, there was also a disproportionate likelihood for the working class to have less favorable opinions of United States forces. It is in the social organization of the boomtown that much of the differential class attitudes toward American servicemen can probably be

105 The American Enlisted Man explained.* For the boomtown serves not only as a buffer between United States military personnel and the middle classes of the host country, but also recruits its inhabitants primarily from the working and lower classes. In other words, while the local middle and upper classes can comfortably adopt an attitude of bemused tolerance toward troop peccadilloes, working- and lower-class men and American troops are much more likely to find themselves in direct or indirect competition for the same women. It is only in times of massive troop buildups—before the buffer function of the boomtown has become institutionalized— that American servicemen have any serious impingement on the social horizon of the local middle classes. This was the state of affairs in the early years of the American occupation in Germany and Japan. (Apropos reactions to American troop behavior, there was the aphorism in wartime England: “Overfed, oversexed, and over here.”) In Vietnam, middle- class resentment toward Gis was most endemic from about 1965 to 1967, but diminished somewhat after American installations were set up away from urban centers. This policy to locate garrison troops away from urban centers was im¬ plemented to reduce Gi-Vietnamese friction in noncombat areas as much as for logistical reasons. Put simply, the rather low-order resentment on the whole toward American service-

One way of assessing the local establishment’s view of American soldiers is by examining press coverage of U.S. military forces. This was practicable in Germany where the Bundespresseamt maintains a topical clipping service for that country’s leading newspapers. For the period 1962 through 1964, there were 221 newspaper stories dealing with American forces in Germany. A content analysis of these press accounts showed the following distribution: 53 per cent of the articles were laudatory accounts of American servicemen, e.g., Gis helping individuals out of trouble, American military aid in natural disasters; 20 per cent were stories dealing with gi crime and rowdyism; 10 per cent were factual reports giving information of training procedures or transfers of troop units; another 10 per cent covered life on American bases—the Klein-Amerikas; and the remaining 7 per cent focused on black soldiers living on the German economy.

106 The Overseas Serviceman men abroad is due to the distinctive organization of the over¬ seas military community. Because of their isolation from the general society, the off-duty behavior of servicemen is seldom regarded locally as a major social problem. This is not to say that agitation against American service¬ men is insignificant. But it is to say that such agitation is not usually directed against American troops as such. Rather, it is a generic product of broader and more fundamental opposition to the global policies of the United States. When all is said and done, the use of the American military in the newspeak of “pacification,” “civic action,” and “nation-building” has done more harm to the name of the United States than the overseas Gl behaving in his own artless manner.

107 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces

On July 28,1948, President Truman issued an Executive Order abolishing racial segregation in the armed forces of the United States. By the middle 1950s this policy was an accomplished fact. The lessons of the racial integration of the military are many. Within a remarkably short period the makeup of a major American institution underwent a far-reaching trans¬ formation.1 Because of the favorable contrast in the military performance of integrated black servicemen with that of all- Negro units, the integration of the armed forces is a demon¬ stration of how changes in social organization can bring about a marked and rapid improvement in individual and group achievement. The desegregated military, moreover, offers itself as a graphic example of the abilities of both whites and blacks to adjust to egalitarian racial practices albeit with some strain. Further, an examination of the racial situation in the contemporary armed services can serve as a partial guide¬ line as to what one might expect in a racially integrated America. At the same time, the desegregation of the military can also be used to trace some of the mutual permeations between the internal organization of the military and the racial and social cleavages found in the larger American society. For it is also the case that the military establishment— as other areas of American life—will be increasingly sub¬ ject to the new challenges of black separatism as well as the persistencies of white racism.

Desegregating the Military2 Blacks have taken part in all of this country’s wars. An esti¬ mated 5,000 blacks, mostly in integrated units, fought on the American side in the War of Independence. (But over 20,000 black slaves—on the promise of manumission—joined the

108 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces

British as soldiers, supply handlers, and scouts.) Several thousand blacks saw service in the War of 1812. During the Civil War 180,000 blacks were recruited into the Union Army and served in segregated regiments. Following the Civil War four Negro regiments were established and were active in the Indian Wars on the Western frontier and later fought with distinction in Cuba during the Spanish-American War. In the early twentieth century, however, owing to a general rise in American racial tensions and specific outbreaks of violence between black troops and whites, official opinion began to turn against the use of black soldiers. Evaluation of black soldiers was further lowered by events in World War I. The combat performance of the all-Negro 92nd Infantry Division, one of its regiments having fled in the German offensive at Meuse- Argonne, came under heavy criticism. Yet it was also observed that black units operating under French command, in a more racially tolerant situation, performed well. In the interval between the two World Wars, the Army not only remained segregated but also adopted a policy of a Negro quota that was to keep the number of blacks in the Army proportionate to the total population.* Never in the pre-World War II period, however, did the number of blacks approach this quota. On the eve of Pearl Harbor, blacks constituted 5.9 per cent of the Army; and there were only five black officers,

Blacks have not been the only racial or ethnic group to occupy a special position in the American military. Indians served in separate battalions in the Civil War and were used as scouts in the frontier wars. Filipinos have long been a major source of recruitment for stewards in the Navy. The much decorated 442nd (“Go for Broke”) Infantry Regiment of World War II was comprised entirely of Japan- ese-Americans. Also in World War II, a separate battalion of Norwegian-Americans was drawn up for intended service in Scandinavia. The participation of Puerto Ricans in the American military deserves special attention. A recent case of large-scale use of non-American soldiers are the Korean fillers or “Katusas” (from Korean Augmentation to the U.S. Army) who make up roughly one-sixth of the troop strength of the Eighth Army.

109 The American Enlisted Man three of whom were chaplains. During World War II blacks entered the Army in larger numbers, but at no time did they exceed 10 per cent of total personnel. Black soldiers remained in segregated units, and approximately three-quarters served in the quartermaster, engineer, and transportation corps. To make matters worse from the viewpoint of “the right to fight,” a slogan loudly echoed by Negro organizations in the United States, even black combat units were frequently used for heavy-duty labor. This was highlighted when the 2nd Cavalry was broken up into service units owing to command apprehen¬ sion over the combat qualities, as yet untested, of this all-Negro division. The record of those black units that did see combat in World War II was mixed. The performance of the 92nd Infantry Division again came under heavy criticism, this time for alleged unreliability in the Italian campaign. An important exception to the general pattern of utilization of black troops in World War II occurred in the winter months of 1944-1945 in the Ardennes battle. Desperate shortages of combat personnel resulted in the Army asking for black volunteers. The plan was to have platoons (approximately 40 men) of blacks serve in companies (approximately 200 men) previously all-white. Some 2,500 blacks volunteered for this assignment. Both in terms of black combat performance and white soldiers’ reactions, the Ardennes experiment was an un¬ qualified success. This incident would later be used to support arguments for integration. After World War II, pressure from Negro and liberal groups coupled with an acknowledgment that black soldiers were being poorly utilized led the Army to reexamine its racial policies. A report by an Army board in 1945, while holding racial integration to be a desirable goal and while making recommendations to improve black opportunity in the Army, concluded that practical considerations required a maintenance of segregation and the quota system. In light of World War II experiences, the report further recommended that black per¬ sonnel be assigned exclusively to support units rather than combat units. Another Army board report came out in 1950

110 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces with essentially the same conclusions.* Both reports placed heavy stress on the supervisory and disciplinary problems resulting from the disproportionate number of blacks found in the lower mental and aptitude levels as established by Army entrance examinations. In 1950, for example, 60 per cent of the black personnel fell into the Army’s lowest cate¬ gories compared with 29 per cent of the white soldiers. From the standpoint of the performance requirements of the mili¬ tary, such facts could not be dismissed lightly. After the Truman desegregation order of 1948, however, the die was cast. The President followed his edict by setting up a committee, chaired by Charles Fahy, to pursue the im¬ plementation of equal treatment and opportunity for armed forces personnel. Under the impetus of the Fahy committee, the Army abolished the quota system in 1950, and was be¬ ginning to integrate some training camps when the conflict in Korea broke out. The Korean conflict was the coup de grace for segregation in the Army. Manpower requirements in the field for combat soldiers resulted in many instances of ad hoc integration. As was true in the Ardennes experience, black soldiers in previously all-white units performed well in combat. As integration in Korea became more standard, observers consistently noted that the fighting abilities of blacks differed little from those of whites.3 This contrasted with the blemished record of the all-Negro 24th Infantry Regiment.4 Its perform¬ ance in the Korean conflict was judged to be so poor that its division commander recommended the unit be dissolved as quickly as possible. Concurrent with events in Korea, inte¬ gration was introduced in the United States. By 1956, three years after the end of the Korean conflict, the remnants of Army Jim Crow disappeared at home and in overseas instal¬ lations. At the time of the Truman order, blacks constituted

The 1945 and 1950 Army board reports are commonly referred to by the names of the officers who headed these boards : respectively, Lieutenant General Alvan C. Gillem, Jr., and Lieutenant General S. J. Chamberlin.

Ill The American Enlisted Man

8.8 per cent of Army personnel. In 1967 the figure was 11.2 per cent. In each of the other services, the history of desegregation varied from the Army pattern. The Army Air Corps, like its parent body, generally assigned blacks to segregated support units. (However, a unique military venture taken during the war was the formation of three all-Negro, including officers, air combat units.) At the end of World War II the proportion of blacks in the Army Air Corps was only 4 per cent, less than half what it was in the Army. Upon its establishment as an independent service in 1947, the Air Force began to take steps toward integration even before the Truman order. By the time of the Fahy committee report in 1950, the Air Force was already largely integrated. Since integration there has been a substantial increase in the proportion of blacks serving in the Air Force, from less than 5 per cent in 1949 to 9.1 per cent in 1967. Although large numbers of blacks had served in the Navy during the Civil War and for some period afterward, restric¬ tive policies were introduced in the early 1900s, and by the end of World War I only about 1 per cent of Navy personnel were blacks. In 1920 the Navy adopted a policy of total racial exclusion and barred all black enlistments. This policy was slightly changed in 1932 when blacks, along with Filipinos, were again allowed to join the Navy but only as stewards in the messman’s branch. Further modifications wTere made in Navy policy in 1942 when some openings in general service were created. Black sailors in these positions, however, were limited to segregated harbor and shore assignments. In 1944, in the first effort toward desegregation in any of the armed services, a small number of black sailors in general service were integrated on oceangoing vessels. After the end of World War II the Navy, again ahead of the other services, began to take major steps toward elimination of racial barriers. Even in the integrated Navy of today, however, black sailors are still overproportionately concentrated in the messman’s branch. Also, despite the early steps toward integration taken by the Navy, the proportion of black sailors has remained

112 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces fairly constant over the past two decades, averaging between 4 and 5 per cent of total personnel. The Marine Corps has gone from a policy of exclusion to segregation to integration. Before World War II there were no black Marines. In 1942 blacks were accepted into the Marine Corps but assigned to segregated units where they were heavy-duty laborers, ammunition handlers, and anti¬ aircraft gunners. After the war small-scale integration of black Marines into white units was begun. In 1949 and 1950 Marine Corps training units were integrated, and by 1954 the color line was largely erased throughout the Corps. Since integration began, the proportion of blacks has increased markedly. In 1949 less than 2 per cent of all Marines were black compared with 9.6 per cent in 1967. Although the various military services are all similar in being formally integrated today, they differ in their proportion of blacks. As shown in Table 5.1, black membership in the total armed forces in 1967 was 9.0 per cent, lower than the 11-12 per cent constituting the black proportion in the total popula¬ tion. It is certain, however, that among these eligible, a higher proportion of blacks than whites enter the armed forces. That is, a much larger number of blacks do not meet the entrance standards required by the military services. For the years 1960 through 1966, about 55 per cent of blacks did not pass the pre¬ induction mental examinations given to Selective Service registrants, almost four times the approximately 15 per cent of whites who failed these same tests.5 Because of the relatively low number of blacks obtaining student or occupational defer¬ ments, however, it is the Army drawing upon the draft that is the only military service where the percentage of blacks approximates the national proportion. Thus, despite the high number of blacks who fail to meet induction standards, Army statistics for 1960-1967 show blacks constituted about 15 per cent of those drafted. Even if one takes into account the Army’s reliance on the Selective Service for much of its personnel, the figures in Table 5.1 also show important differences in the number of blacks in those services meeting their manpower requirements

113 The American Enlisted Man solely through voluntary enlistments; in 1967, for example, the 4.3 per cent black in the Navy is lower than 9.6 per cent for the Marine Corps or the 9.1 per cent for the Air Force. Moreover, the Army, besides its drawing upon the draft, also has the highest black initial enlistment rate of any of the services. For the 1961—1966 period, the Army drew 10.9 per cent of its volunteer incoming personnel from blacks as com¬ pared with 9.8 per cent for the Air Force, 7.2 per cent for the Marine Corps, and 4.2 per cent for the Navy. There are also diverse patterns between the individual services as to the rank or grade distribution of blacks. Look¬ ing at Table 5.2, we find the ratio of black to white officers in 1967 was roughly 1 to 30 in the Army, 1 to 60 in the Air Force, 1 to 150 in the Marine Corps, and 1 to 300 in the Navy. Among enlisted men across all four services, blacks are underrepre¬ sented in the very top enlisted ranks (but least so in the Army). We also find a disproportionate concentration of blacks in the lower NCO levels in each of the armed forces. This is especially so in the Army where one out of every five staff sergeants is a black. An assessment of these data reveals that the Army, followed by the Air Force, has not only the largest proportion of blacks in its total personnel, but also the most equitable distribution of blacks throughout its ranks. Although the Navy was the first service to integrate and the Army the last, in a kind of tortoise and hare fashion, it is the Army that has be¬ come the most representative service for blacks.

Changing Military Requirements and Black Participation A pervasive trend within the military establishment singled out by students of this institution is the long-term trend toward greater technical complexity and narrowing of civilian-military occupational skills. An indicator, albeit a crude one, of this trend is the decreasing proportion of men assigned to combat arms. Given in Table 5.3, along with concomitant white-black distributions, are figures comparing the percentage of Army enlisted personnel in combat arms (e.g., infantry, armor, artillery) for the years 1945,1962, and 1967. We find that the proportion of men in combat arms—that is, traditional mili- Racial Relations in the Armed Forces tary specialties—drops from 44.5 per cent in 1945 to 26.0 per cent in 1962 and 23.5 per cent in 1967. Also, the percentages of white personnel in traditional military specialties closely approximate the total proportional decrease in the combat arms over the twenty-two-year period. For black soldiers, however, a different picture emerges. While the percentage of black enlisted men in the Army in¬ creased only slightly, the likelihood of a black serving in a combat arm is well over two times greater in the 1960s than it was at the end of World War II. Further, when impression¬ istic observations are made within the combat arms, the black proportion is noticeably higher in line rather than staff assign¬ ments, and in infantry rather than other combat arms. In many airborne and Marine line companies, the number of blacks approaches half the unit strength. Put another way, the direction of assignment of black soldiers in the desegregated military is testimony to the continuing consequences of dif¬ ferential racial opportunity originating in the larger society. That is, even though integration of the military has led to great improvement in the performance of black servicemen, the social and particularly educational deprivations suffered by the black in American society can be mitigated but not eliminated by the racial egalitarian policies of the armed forces.6 Yet it is also true that the probabilities of a black being assigned to a combat arm are noticeably greater even when certain control variables are introduced. The data given in Table 5.4 are derived from complete Department of Defense manpower statistics for the year ending December 31, 1965. To sharpen the analysis, the grade and cohort that is modal for permanently assigned enlisted men in the Army and Marine Corps is used : servicemen who occupy the pay grade E-4 (corporal or specialist fourth class) with less than four years of military service. These manpower statistics concerning proportional assignment in combat arms, in addition to racial breakdowns, also allow for categorization based on the Armed Forces Qualification Test (afqt) , a prime indicator of civilian socioeducational background.

115 The American Enlisted Man

Table 5.4 reveals that combat arms assignment is markedly higher for blacks compared to whites even within each of the afqt levels. It is also the case, however, that regardless of race, the lower the afqt level, the greater the likelihood of combat assignment. These Department of Defense statistics also show that when AFQT level and race are looked at in unison, there are pronounced effects on assignment probabilities. Thus, blacks in the lowest afqt levels (IV and V) are about four times more likely to be assigned to combat arms than are whites in afqt level 1: 37.1 per cent to 9.4 per cent in the Army; and 64.5 per cent to 16.1 per cent in the Marine Corps. These findings, however, need not be interpreted as a reflec¬ tion on the “status” of the black in the integrated military. Actually there is evidence that higher prestige—but not envy— is generally accorded combat personnel by those in noncombat activities within the military.7 And taken within the historical context of the “right to fight” voiced by Negro organizations with reference to the segregated military of World War II, the black soldier’s current overrepresentation in the combat arms might be construed as a kind of ironic step forward.8 As is to be expected, the overconcentration of blacks in combat units is all too obviously shown in the casualty reports from Vietnam. As documented in Table 5.5, during the 1961- 1966 period, blacks constituted 10.6 per cent of military per¬ sonnel in Southeast Asia while accounting for 16.0 per cent of those killed in action. This reflects the high casualties suffered by the Army and Marine Corps—about 95 per cent of all American losses in Vietnam—compared to the Navy and Air Force. In 1967 and the first six months of 1968, however, the proportion of black combat deaths dropped to between 13 and 14 per cent. Yet even in these later figures, black combat deaths were still about one-third above the proportion of blacks stationed in Southeast Asia, and about one and a half times the total black proportion in the American military. Despite the greater likelihood for blacks to be assigned to combat arms and their resultant high casualty rates in war¬ time, the fact remains that the military at the enlisted ranks has become a major avenue of career mobility for many black

116 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces men.9 This state of affairs reflects not only the “pull” of the appeals offered by a racially integrated institution, but also the “push” generated by the plight of the black in the Ameri¬ can economy. Indeed, there is rather conclusive evidence that the gap between black and white job opportunities in the civilian economy has not significantly altered over the past quarter-century. An insight into the causes underlying volun¬ teer initial enlistments can be gained by looking at reasons given for entering the armed forces. Based on responses elicited in the 1964 NORC survey, the motivations of volunteers were grouped into four categories: (1) personal, for example, to get away from home, to travel, for excitement; (2) patriotic, for example, to serve one’s country; (3) draft motivated, for example, to increase options in choice of service and time of entry; and (4) self-advancement, for example, to learn a trade, to receive an education, to make the military a career. As shown in Table 5.6, reasons for service entry among volun¬ teers are reported by race holding educational level constant. There are only slight differences between whites and blacks with regard to personal or patriotic motivations for service entry. The variation between the races is found almost entirely in their differing mentions of draft-motivated versus self¬ advancement reasons. Within each educational level, black volunteers mention self-advancement almost twice as often as whites. Conversely, whites are markedly more likely to state they entered the service to avoid the draft. In other words, the draft serves as a major inducement for whites to volunteer, while the belief that self-advancement will be furthered in the military is much more typical of black enlistees. Moreover, once within the military the black serviceman is much more likely than his white counterpart to have “found a home.” As noted earlier, in all four services there is an over¬ representation of black NCOS, especially at the junior levels. The disproportionate concentration of blacks at these grades implies a higher than average reenlistment rate as such ranks are not normally attained until after a second enlistment. This assumption is supported by the data presented in Table 5.7. We find for the years 1964-1967 that the service-wide black re-

117 The American Enlisted Man enlistment rate is approximately twice that of white service¬ men. (Data from the 1964 NORC survey also show that 50.0 per cent of blacks who were making a career of military life were initially draftees, as contrasted with 21.3 per cent of the white career soldiers who similarly first entered the service through the draft.) Indeed, except for 1967, about half of all first-term black servicemen chose to remain in the armed forces for at least a second term. Even in 1967 when there is a sharp (but cross-racial) drop in reenlistments, the black re¬ enlistment rate remains at twice that of whites.10 The greater likelihood of blacks to select a service career suggests that the military establishment is undergoing a significant change in its NCO core. At the minimum, it is very probable that as the present cohort of black junior NCOS attains seniority there will be much greater black representation in the very top NCO grades. The expansion of the armed forces arising from the war in Vietnam and the resulting “opening up of rank” has undoubtedly accelerated this development. That black servicemen have a more favorable view of military life than whites is indicated not only in their higher reenlistment rates, but also more directly in the 1964 NORC survey data reported in Table 5.8. Whether broken down by branch of service, educational level, pay grade, or military occupational specialty, black servicemen compared with whites consistently have a less negative view of life in the military. In fact, there is no category or subgroup in which whites are more favorably disposed toward military service than their black counterparts. It should be reiterated, however, that the relatively benign terms in which black men regard military life speak not only of the racial desegregation of the armed forces, but, more profoundly, of the existing state of affairs for blacks in American society at large.

Attitudes of Soldiers So far the discussion has sought to document the degree of penetration and the kind of distribution characterizing black servicemen in the integrated military establishment. We now

118 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces turn to certain survey and interview data dealing more directly with the question of soldiers’ attitudes toward military de¬ segregation. Commenting on the difficulties of social analysis, the authors of The American Soldier wrote that few problems are “more formidable than that of obtaining dependable records of attitudes toward racial separation in the Army.”11 Without underestimating the continuing difficulty of this problem, an opportunity exists to compare attitudes toward racial integration held by American soldiers in two different periods. This is done by contrasting reponses to equivalent items given in World War II as reported in The American Soldier with those reported in Project Clear, a study sponsored by the Defense Department during the Korean War. The Project Clear surveys, conducted by the Operations Research Office (ORO) of Johns Hopkins University, queried several thousand servicemen in both Korea and the United States on a variety of items relating to attitudes toward racial integration in the Army.12 In both The American Soldier and Project Clear (the surveys under consideration were conducted in 1943 and 1951, respectively) large samples of Army personnel in segregated military settings were categorized as to whether they were favorable, indifferent, or opposed to racial integration in Army units. We find, as presented in Table 5.9, massive shifts in soldiers’ attitudes over the eight-year period, shifts showing a much more positive disposition toward racial integration among both whites and blacks in the later year. A look at the distribution of attitudes held by white soldiers reveals opposi¬ tion to integration goes from 84 per cent in 1943 to less than half in 1951. That such a change could occur in less than a decade counters viewpoints that see basic social attitudes in large populations being prone to glacial-like changes. Yet, an even more remarkable change is found among the black soldiers. Where in 1945, favorable, indifferent, or op¬ posing attitudes were roughly equally distributed among the black soldiers, by 1951 opposition or indifference to racial integration had become negligible. Such a finding is strongly indicative of a reformation in black public opinion from tra-

119 The American Enlisted Man ditional acquiescence to Jim Crow to the groundswell that laid the basis for the subsequent civil rights movement. It may be argued, of course, that recent developments—separatist ten¬ dencies within the black community in the late 1960s—have eclipsed the 1951 findings. Nevertheless, the data is still con¬ vincing that on the eve of integration, black soldiers over¬ whelmingly rejected a segregated armed forces. Moreover, while the data on black responses toward inte¬ gration given in Table 5.9 were elicited during the segregated military of 1943 and 1951, we also have evidence on how black soldiers react to military integration in a more contemporary setting. As reported in Table 5.10, the Army is thought to be much more racially egalitarian than civilian life. Only 16 per cent of 67 black soldiers interviewed in 1965 said civilian life was more racially equal or no different than the Army. By region, as might be expected, we find southern blacks more likely than northern blacks to take a favorable view of racial relations in the Army when these are compared to civilian life. The data support the proposition that, despite existing deviations from military policy at the level of informal discrimination, the military establishment stands in sharp and favorable contrast to the racial relations prevalent in the larger American society. One of the most celebrated findings of The American Soldier was the discovery that the more contact white soldiers had with black troops, the more favorable was their reaction toward racial integration.13 This conclusion is consistently supported in the surveys conducted by Project Clear. Again and again, comparisons of white soldiers in integrated units with those in segregated units show the former to be more supportive of desegregation. Illustrative of this pattern are the data shown in Table 5.11. Among combat infantrymen in Korea, 51 per cent in all-white units prefer segregation compared with 31 per cent in integrated units. For enlisted personnel sta¬ tioned in the United States, strong objection to integration characterizes 44 per cent serving in segregated units while less than one-fifth of the men in integrated units feel the same way. Seventy-nine per cent of officers on segregated posts rate

120 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces

blacks worse than white soldiers as compared with 28 per cent holding similar beliefs on integrated posts.

Official Policy and Actual Practice For the man newly entering the armed forces, it is hard to conceive that the military was one of America’s most segre¬ gated institutions some two decades ago. Today, color barriers at the formal level are absent throughout the military estab¬ lishment. Equal treatment regardless of race is official policy in such nonduty facilities as swimming pools, chapels, barber¬ shops, Post Exchanges, movie theaters, snack bars, and depend¬ ents’ housing as well as in the more strictly military endeavors involved in the assignment, promotion, and living conditions of members of the armed services.14 Moreover, white personnel are often commanded by black superiors, a situation rarely obtaining in civilian life. In brief, military life is characterized by an interracial equalitarianism of a quantity and of a kind that is seldom found in the other major institutions of Ameri¬ can society. Some measure of the extent and thoroughness of military desegregation is found in comparing the 1950 President’s Committee (“Fahy committee”) report dealing with racial integration and the 1963 and 1964 reports of a second Presi¬ dent’s Committee (“Gesell committee”). Where the earlier report dealt entirely with internal military organization, the later reports address themselves primarily to off-base dis¬ crimination.15 Thus in order to implement its policy of equal opportunity, the military began to exert pressure on local communities where segregated residential patterns affected military personnel. Since 1963 commanders of military instal¬ lations have been under instructions to persuade apartment and trailer court owners to end segregation voluntarily. These informal efforts had little or no success. In 1967 an important precedent was set when segregated housing was declared off- limits to all military personnel in the area adjacent to Andrews Air Force Base, Maryland. In 1968 the Defense Department announced a nationwide policy forbidding any serviceman to

121 The American Enlisted Man rent lodgings where racial discrimination was practiced. Whatever one’s value priorities—concern over military influ¬ ence on civilian society versus integrated housing—the rami¬ fications of this policy are significant and deserve careful examination. In their performance of military duties, whites and blacks work together with little open display of racial animosity. Incidents between the races do occur (and are occurring more frequently), but such confrontations are almost always off- duty, if not off-base. (Excepting, importantly, military stock¬ ades where racial strife is compounded by the problems of incarceration.) Additionally it must be stressed that conflict situations stemming from nonracial causes also characterize sources of friction in the military establishment, for example, enlisted men versus officers, lower-ranking enlisted men versus noncommissioned officers, soldiers of middle-class back¬ ground versus those of the working class, draftees versus volunteers, line units versus staff units, rear echelon versus front echelon, newly arrived units versus earlier stationed units, and so on. Yet the fact remains that the general pattern of day-to-day relationships off the job is usually one of mutual racial ex- clusivism. As one black soldier put it, “A man can be my best buddy in the Army, but he won’t ask me to go to town with him.” Closest friendships normally develop within races be¬ tween individuals of similar educational and social background. Beyond one’s hard core of friends there exists a level of friendly acquaintances. Here the pattern seems to be one of educational similarities overriding racial differences. On the whole, racial integration at informal levels works best on-duty vis-a-vis off-duty, on-base vis-a-vis off-base, basic training and maneuvers vis-a-vis garrison, sea duty vis-a-vis shore duty, and—most especially—combat vis-a-vis noncombat. In other words, the behavior of servicemen resembles the racial (and class) separatism of the larger American society, the more they are removed from the military environment. For nearly all white soldiers the military is a first experi¬ ence with close and equal contact with a large group of blacks.

122 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces

There has developed what has become practically a military custom: the look over the shoulder, upon the telling of a racial joke, to see if there are any blacks in hearing distance. Some racial animosity is reflected in accusations that black soldiers use the defense of racial discrimination to avoid disciplinary punishment. Many white soldiers claim they like Negroes as individuals but “can’t stand them in bunches.” In a few ex¬ treme cases, white married personnel even live off the military base and pay higher rents rather than live in integrated mili¬ tary housing. On the whole, however, the segregationist- inclined white soldier regards racial integration as something to be accepted pragmatically, if reluctantly, as are so many situations in military life. The most overt source of racial unrest in the military community centers in dancing situations. A commentary on American mores is a finding reported in Project Clear: Three- quarters of a large sample of white soldiers said they would not mind Negro couples on the same dance floor, but approxi¬ mately the same number strongly disapproved of Negro soldiers dancing with white girls.16 In many noncommissioned officer (nco) clubs, the likelihood of interracial dancing partners is a constant producer of tension. In fact, the only major exception to integration within the military community is on a number of large posts where there are two or more NCO clubs. In such situations one of the clubs usually becomes tacitly designated as the black club. Although there is general support for racial integration by black soldiers, tensions are also' evident among black military personnel. Black officers are sometimes seen as being too strict or “chicken” when it comes to enforcing military discipline on black enlisted men. As one black soldier said, “I’m proud when I see a Negro officer, but not in my company.” Similarly, black noncoms are alleged to pick on blacks when it comes time to assign men unpleasant duties. There is also the tendency among some of the lower-ranking black enlisted men, especially draftees, to view black NCOS as “Uncle Toms” or “handker¬ chief heads.” This view may be expected to become somewhat more prevalent in the wake of the growing militancy among

123 The American Enlisted Man black youths in civilian society. In the same vein, self-imposed informal segregation on the part of many blacks will become more overt. Nevertheless, the fact remains, and will indefinitely be so, that the military is a sought-after career choice for many black men. One black writer, who served in the segregated Army and later had two sons in the integrated military, has proposed that what was thought by soldiers in all-Negro units to be racial discrimination was often nothing more than routine harassment of lower-ranking enlisted personnel.17 In fact, the analogy between enlisted men vis-a-vis officers in the mili¬ tary and blacks vis-a-vis whites in the larger society has often been noted.18 It has been less frequently observed, however, that enlisted men’s behavior is often similar to many of the stereotypes associated with Negroes, for example, laziness, boisterousness, emphasis on sexual prowess, consciously acting stupid, obsequiousness in front of superiors combined with ridicule of absent superiors, and the like. Placement of white adult males in a subordinate position within a rigidly stratified system appears to produce behavior not all that different from the so-called personality traits commonly held to be an out¬ come of cultural or psychological patterns unique to Negro life. Indeed, it might be argued that relatively little adjust¬ ment on the part of the command structure was required when the infusion of blacks into the enlisted ranks occurred as the military establishment was desegregated. In other words, it is suggested that one factor contributing to the generally smooth racial integration of the military was due to the standard treatment—“like Negroes”—accorded to all lower-ranking enlisted personnel.

The Black Soldier Overseas Some special remarks are needed concerning black servicemen overseas. Suffice it to say for prefatory purposes, the American soldier, be he either white or black, is usually in a place where he does not understand the language, is received with mixed feelings by the local population, spends the greater part of his Racial Relations in the Armed Forces time in a transplanted American environment, sometimes plays the role of tourist, is relatively affluent in relation to the local economy, takes advantage and is at the mercy of a comprador class, and in comparison with his counterpart at home is more heavily involved in military duties. In general, the pattern of racial relations observed among soldiers in the United States—integration in the military setting and racial exclusivism off-duty—prevails in overseas assignments as well. This norm is reflected in one of the most characteristic features of American military life overseas, a bifurcation of the vice structure into groups that pander almost exclusively (or assert they do) to only one of the races. A frequent claim of local bar owners is that they discourage racially mixed trade because of the demands of their Gi clientele. And, indeed, many of the establishments catering to American personnel that ring most military installations are segregated in practice. To a similar degree this is true of shore towns where Navy personnel take liberty. Violation of these implicit taboos can lead to physical threat and often violence. The pattern of off-duty separatism is most pronounced in Japan and Germany, and somewhat less so in Korea (though the Sam Gak Chi area in Seoul has long been a gathering point for black servicemen). Combat conditions in Vietnam make the issue of off-duty racial relations academic for those troops in the field. In the cities, however, racial separatism off-duty is readily apparent. It is said that the riverfront district in Saigon, Kanh Hoi, frequented by black American soldiers, was formerly patronized by Senegalese troops during the French occupation. In off-duty areas on Okinawa racial separatism is complicated by interservice rivalries and a four¬ fold ecological pattern shows up: white-Army, black-Army, white-Marines, and black-Marines. A major exception to the norm of off-duty racial separatism occurred in the Dominican Republic. There all troops were restricted and leaving the military compound necessitated soldiers collaborating if they were not to be detected; such ventures were often as not interracial.

125 The American Enlisted Man

In Germany one impact of that country’s economic boom has been to depress the relative position of the American soldier vis-a-vis the German working man. In the Germany of ten or fifteen years ago (or the Korea and Vietnam of today) all American military personnel were affluent by local stand¬ ards. This was (and is today in Korea and Vietnam) an especially novel experience for the black soldier. The status drop of American soldiers in Germany has particularly affected the black serviceman who has the additional handicap of being black in a country where there are no black women. The old “good duty” days for black soldiers in Germany have come to an end as he finds his previous access to other than prostitutes severely reduced. The German economic boom has affected black soldiers in another way. In recent years there has been some friction between foreign laborers (mostly from Mediter¬ ranean countries) and black soldiers. Both groups of men ap¬ parently are competing for the same girls. At the same time, the foreign workers have little contact with white American soldiers who move in a different segment of the vice structure. Nonetheless, overseas duty for the black serviceman, in Germany as well as in the Far East, gives him an opportunity, even if peripheral, to witness societies where racial discrimi¬ nation is less practiced than it is in his home country. Al¬ though the level of black acceptance in societies other than America is usually exaggerated, the black soldier is hard put not to make invidious comparisons with the American scene.19 In interviews conducted in 1965 with black servicemen in Germany, 64 per cent said there was more racial equality in Germany than America, 30 per cent saw little difference be¬ tween the two countries, and only 6 per cent believed blacks were treated better in the United States. Observers of overseas American personnel have told the writer that black soldiers are more likely than whites to learn local languages (though for both groups of servicemen this is a very small number). Evidence for this supposition is given in Table 5.12. Three German-national barbers, who were per¬ manently hired to cut the hair of all the men in one battalion, were asked by the writer to evaluate the German-language

126 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces proficiency of the individual personnel in that battalion.* When these evaluations were correlated with race, it was found that black soldiers were five times more likely to know “conversa¬ tional” German, and three times more likely to know “some” German than were white soldiers.20 Actually, the likelihood of black soldiers compared with whites in learning the language of the country in which they are stationed may be even greater than indicated. Several of the German-speaking white soldiers were of German ethnic background and acquired some knowl¬ edge of the language in their home environments back in the United States. It is more than coincidence that a widely seen German television commercial in 1965—in which white and black American soldiers were portrayed—only the black soldiers spoke German. Similarly, a study of American troops in Japan reported: “In general, Negro soldiers learned to speak Japanese more quickly and expertly than did the white soldiers (whose efforts in this direction were very halting) .”21 The strong weight of evidence, then, is that black servicemen over¬ seas, perhaps because of the more favorable racial climate, are more willing to take advantage of informal participation and interaction with local populations.

Race at Home and War Abroad It is important to remember that the desegregation of the armed forces antedated both the beginnings of the civil rights movement in the late 1950s and the black power movement a decade later. In the light of subsequent developments in the domestic racial picture, it is likely that severe disciplinary problems—if not outright organized mutiny—would have occurred had military integration not come about when it did. The timing of desegregation in the military defused an in¬ gredient—all-black units—that would have been explosive in this nation’s current racial strife. One has only to be reminded

These barbers were focal points of much of the battalion’s gossip and among them saw every man in the battalion on the average of twice a month.

127 The American Enlisted Man of the embroilments between black units and whites that were an ever-present problem in the segregated military. On the other hand, the armed forces were remarkably free of racial turmoil from the middle 1950s through the middle 1960s. Nevertheless, it is also the case that the military establish¬ ment—at least into the foreseeable future—will not be immune from the racial and class conflicts occurring in the larger American society. Incidents with racial overtones have be¬ come more frequent in recent years. Two of the most dramatic occurred in the summer of 1968. Over 250 black prisoners took part in a race riot in the Long Binh stockade outside Saigon. The stockade was not brought under complete military control for close to a month. At about the same time in the United States, 43 black soldiers at Fort Hood, Texas, refused to leave as part of the force assigned to guard the Democratic Con¬ vention. The soldiers feared they might be used to combat Chicago blacks. That black soldiers may find they owe higher fealty to the black community than to the United States Army is a possibility that haunts commanders. The likelihood of such an eventuality, however, will be serious only if the Army is regularly summoned into action in black ghettos. Sensitive to the civil rights issue and specter of black power in the military, the armed forces have been surprisingly mild (up to this writing) in their handling of black servicemen involved in racial incidents. Neither the Long Binh rioters nor the “Fort Hood 43” received anything approaching maximum sentences, many cases being dismissed outright. Such a policy of lenient treatment coupled with internal racially egalitarian practices will most likely be sufficient—barring repeated mili¬ tary interventions in black ghettos—to preclude any wide¬ spread black disaffection within the armed forces.*

In the wake of outbi’eaks of racial violence on or near several military bases in the summer of 1969, the Army and Marine Corps announced new guidelines giving greater leeway for black salutes, “Afro” haircuts, and other manifestations of black solidarity among troops. The Pentagon was also considering establishment of biracial councils consisting of officers and enlisted men on all major bases to minimize racial friction.

128 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces

The nature of black participation in the military organiza¬ tion has also become inextricable with broader criticisms of America’s politico-military policies. Though originally focusing on the war in Vietnam, radical attacks have come to include a questioning of the very legitimacy of military service.22 Much attention has been given to the relationship between elements of the black militant movement with the movement against the war in Vietnam. Yet the black movement as a whole has remained largely removed from those white radical groups vociferously attacking the military services. (Ironically enough, the emergence of black separatism has worked against white radicals seeking to appeal to black servicemen.) Indeed, the antiwar movement has aggravated not only the already existing cleavages between black moderate and black militant leaders but has also revealed differences between black demands and the goals of white radicals. The pertinent ques¬ tion appears to be not so much what are the implications of the black movement for the military establishment, but what are the effects of the Vietnam War on internal developments within the black movement itself. Although it would be pre¬ mature to offer a definite statement on any future interpene¬ trations between the black movement and anti-military groups, a major turning away of blacks per se from military com¬ mitment is viewed as highly doubtful. Most likely, and some¬ what paradoxically, we will witness more vocal anti-military sentiment within certain black militant groups at the same time that the armed forces increasingly become a leading avenue of career opportunity for many black men. Nevertheless, there has usually been and is today a pre¬ sumption on the part of America’s military opponents that blacks should be less committed soldiers than whites. Whether for tactical or ideological reasons, the black service¬ man has been frequently defined as a special target for propaganda by forces opposing America in military conflicts. In World War II the Japanese directed radio appeals specifi¬ cally to Negro servicemen in the Pacific theater. In the Korean conflict the Chinese used racial arguments on Negro prisoners of war. Yet a careful study of American POW behavior in

129 The American Enlisted Man

Korea made no mention of differences in black and white behavior except to note that the resegregation of black POWs by the Chinese had a boomerang effect on Communist indoctrina¬ tion methods.23 The recent military interventions of the United States on the international scene raise again the question of the motiva¬ tion and performance of black soldiers in combat. A spokes¬ man for the National Liberation Front of South Vietnam asserted as early as 1965 that “liberation forces have a special attitude toward American soldiers who happen to be Negroes.” In the same vein, upon release of three American POWs (two of them black) in early 1968, the clandestine Viet Cong radio announced it was a gesture of “solidarity and support for American Negroes.” My observations as well as those of others found no differences in white or black combat performance in Vietnam. In the Dominican Republic, where the proportion of blacks in line units ran as high as 40 per cent, a pamphlet was distributed to black soldiers exhorting them to “turn your guns on your white oppressors and join your Dominican brothers.”24 Again, my personal observations buttressed by comment from Dominicans revealed no significant differences between white and black military performance.25 My appraisal is that among officers and NCOS there was no discernible difference between the races concerning military commitment in either the Dominican Republic or Vietnam. Among black soldiers in the lower enlisted ranks, however, there was a somewhat greater disenchantment compared to white as to the merits of America’s recent military ventures. Such unease, however, has little effect on military performance, most especially in the actual combat situation. Close living, strict discipline, and common danger all serve to preclude racial conflict between whites and blacks in field units. The evidence strongly suggests that the racial integration of the armed forces, coming about when it did, effectively precluded any large-scale success on the part of America’s military opponents to differentiate black from white soldiers. It is also probable, however, that military experience will contribute to an activist posture on the part of black service-

180 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces men returning to civilian life. The black ex-serviceman, that is, will be less willing to accommodate himself to second-class citizenship after participating in the racially egalitarian military system. Further, especially in situations where blacks are intimidated by physical threat or force, techniques of violence and organizational skills acquired in military service will be a new factor in the black movement. Robert F. Williams, the first leading advocate of armed self-defense for blacks, explicitly states that his Marine Corps experience led to his beliefs.26 It also seems more than coincidence that the ten founders of the Deacons for Defense and Justice, a para¬ military group organized in 1964 to counter Ku Klux Klan terrorism, were all veterans of Korea or World War II.27 Moreover, black veterans returning from Vietnam are alleged to be prominent in the membership of newly formed paramilitary groups in urban ghettos (e.g., the Black Panthers in the San Francisco Bay area, the Zulu 1200s in St. Louis, the Invaders in Memphis, the us organization in Los Angeles). Yet, the future role of the Vietnam veteran in the black move¬ ment is hard to assess. Undoubtedly, most black veterans— like most people in general—will eschew politico-revolutionary activity and seek to improve their lives along individual lines. But we can also expect, as was the case after previous Ameri¬ can wars, that black veterans will play a leading role in their race’s struggle for dignity and equality.

Although the military was until recent times one of America’s most segregated institutions, it has leaped into the forefront of racial equality in the past decades. What features of the military establishment can account for this about-face? There is a combination of mutually supporting factors that operate in the generally successful racial integration of the armed forces. For one thing, the military—an institution revolving around techniques of violence—is to an important degree discontinuous from other areas of social life. And this apart¬ ness served to allow, once the course had been decided, a rapid and complete racial integration. The path of desegregation was further made easier by characteristics peculiar to or at

131 The American Enlisted Man least more pronounced in the military. With its hierarchical power structure, predicated on stable and patterned relation¬ ships, decisions need take relatively little account of the per¬ sonal desires of service personnel. Additionally, because roles and activities are more defined and specific in the military than in most other social arenas, conflicts that might have ensued within a more diffuse and ambiguous setting were largely ab¬ sent. Likewise, desegregation was facilitated by the pervasive¬ ness in the military of a bureaucratic ethos, with its concomi¬ tant formality and high social distance, that mitigated tensions arising from individual or personal feelings. At the same time it must also be remembered that the mili¬ tary establishment has means of coercion not readily available in most civilian pursuits. Violations of norms are both more visible and subject to quicker sanctions. The military is premised, moreover, on the accountability of its members for effective performance. Owing to the aptly termed “chain of command,” failures in policy implementation can be pin¬ pointed. This in turn means that satisfactory carrying-out of stated policy advances one’s own position. In other words, it is to each individual’s personal interest, if he anticipates re¬ ceiving the rewards of a military career, to insure that deci¬ sions going through him are executed with minimum difficulty. Or, put another way, whatever the internal policy decided upon, racial integration being a paramount but only one ex¬ ample, the military establishment is uniquely suited to realize its implementation. What implications does the military integration experience have for civilian society? Although it is certainly true that the means by which racial desegregation was accomplished in the military establishment are not easily transferable to the civilian community, the end result of integration in the con¬ temporary armed forces can suggest some qualities of what an integrated American society would be within the context of the prevailing structural and value system. Equality of treatment would be the rule in formal and task-specific relationships. Racial animosity would diminish but not disappear. Primary group ties and informal association would remain largely

132 Racial Relations in the Armed Forces within one’s own racial group. But even at primary group levels, the integrated society would exhibit a much higher interracial intimacy than exists in the nonintegrated society. We would also expect a sharp improvement in black mobility and performance in the occupational sphere, even taking into consideration ongoing social and educational handicaps arising from existing inequities. Yet, because of these inequities, blacks would still be overconcentrated in less skilled and less rewarded positions. Such a description of the racially integrated society is, of course, what one finds in today’s military establishment. More¬ over, despite inequities suffered by blacks both in being more likely to be drafted and once in the service being more likely to assignment in combat units, blacks, nevertheless, are still much more favorably disposed toward military life than whites. It is a commentary on our nation that many black youths, by seeking to enter and remain in the armed forces, are saying that it is even worth the risk of being killed in order to have a chance to learn a trade, to make it in a small way, to get away from a dead-end existence, and to become part of the only institution in this society that seems really to be inte¬ grated.

133 Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam

That men too often find themselves fighting wars is a depress¬ ing commentary on both history and contemporary life. That many of these same men endure situations where they can be killed and kill others is a perplexing fact of human behavior. It is not surprising, then, that interpretations of the motiva¬ tions of men in combat are many. From among diverse ac¬ counts, however, we can distinguish some recurring themes that seek to explain the bases of combat performance. The viewpoint with perhaps the earliest antecedents finds combat motivation resting on the presumed national character of the general populace. The varying effectiveness of different national armies has often been popularly ascribed to the putative martial spirit of their respective citizenries. The use of national character explanations of military effectiveness, however, is not unique to popular folklore. In our own coun¬ try’s recent history, certain prominent spokesmen invoked such broad cultural determinants to explain the alleged poor performance of American prisoners of war in the Korean War as a result of a “softening” of the American character.1 A contrasting viewpoint sees combat performance as essentially resulting from the operation of the formal military organization. Combat motivation results from effective mili¬ tary training and discipline, and unit esprit de corps.2 Al¬ though such a viewpoint is typically associated with tradi¬ tionalist military thought, the importance of military sociali¬ zation is similarly emphasized—albeit from different premises —by commentators concerned with the assumed deleterious consequences of military life on personality development.3 Thus, we frequently find both supporters and opponents of the goals of the military organization giving great weight to the total or all-inclusive features of military life.4 Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam

Another interpretation of combat behavior holds that the effective soldier is motivated either by a sense of national patriotism, or by a belief that he is fighting for a just cause. Such a viewpoint holds that combat performance depends on the soldier’s commitment to abstract values or the symbols of the larger society. The effective soldier, in other words, is an ideologically inspired soldier. Combat performance directly varies with the soldier’s conscious allegiance to the stated purposes of the war. It is usually assumed in this regard that such allegiance preexists the soldier’s entry into the formal military organization. The ideological explanation in its various forms has become the hallmark of virtually all official rhetoric as well as much of the conventional wisdom. A quite different explanation of combat motivation, largely arising from the social science studies of World War II, de- emphasizes ideological considerations (and, to a lesser extent, formal organizational factors as well). It focuses attention instead on the role of face-to-face or “primary” groups, and explains the motivation of the individual combat soldier as a function of his solidarity and social intimacy with fellow sol¬ diers at small group levels.5 Significantly, the rediscovery of the importance of primary groups by social scientists paralleled corresponding accounts given by journalists, novelists, and other combat observers.6 In its more extreme formulation, combat primary relationships were viewed as so intense that they overrode not only preexisting civilian values and formal military goals, but even the individual’s own sense of self¬ concern. Although I will refer here to the national character and formal military organization explanations, my major attention will be directed to the considerations raised in the ideological and primary-group interpretations of combat performance. Put most simply, I argue that combat motivation arises out of the linkages between individual self-concern, primary-group processes, and the shared beliefs of soldiers. The ideological and primary-group explanations are not contradictory. Rather, an understanding of the combat soldier’s motivation requires a

135 The American Enlisted Man simultaneous appreciation of the role of small groups and underlying value commitments as they are shaped by the immediate combat situation.

Collection of Data The information for the ensuing discussion is based on my ob¬ servations of American soldiers in combat made during two separate stays in South Vietnam. During the first field trip in 1965,1 spent two weeks with a weapons squad in a rifle platoon of an airborne (paratrooper) unit. The second field trip in 1967 included a six-day stay with an infantry rifle squad, and shorter periods with several other combat squads. Although I identified myself as a university professor and sociologist, I had little difficulty gaining access to the troops because of my official status as an accredited correspondent. I entered combat units by simply requesting permission from the local head¬ quarters to move into a squad. Once within a squad, I experi¬ enced the same living conditions as the squad members. The novelty of my presence soon dissipated as I became a regular participant in the day-to-day activities of the squad. The soldiers with whom I was staying were performing combat missions of a patroling nature, the most typical type of combat operation in Vietnam, at least through 1968. Patrols are normally small-unit operations involving squads (9-12 men) or platoons (30-40 men). Such small units made up patrols whose usual mission was to locate enemy forces that could then be subjected to group, artillery, or air attack. Patrol’s normally last one or several days and are manned by lower-ranking enlisted men, noncommissioned officers leading squads, and lieutenants heading platoons. In the vast majority of instances these patrols turn out to be a “walk in the sun,” meeting no or only sporadic enemy resistance. Even when enemy contact is not made, however, patrols suffer casualties from land mines and booby traps. But it is primarliy on those occasions when enemy forces are en¬ countered that casualty rates are extremely high. Indeed, casualty surveys through mid-1967 report that 65 per cent of all American losses in Vietnam occurred on patrol-type

136 Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam operations.1 Upon return to the permanent base camp, mem¬ bers of the patrol are able to enjoy a modicum of physical comfort. They live in large tents, eat hot food, get their mail more or less regularly, see movies, and can purchase beer, cigarettes, and toilet articles at field Post Exchanges. The bulk of the time in the base camp is spent on guard duty and maintaining equipment. In both the 1965 and 1967 field trips, I collected data through informal observations and personal interviewing of combat soldiers. During the second field trip, however, I made an additional effort to obtain information in a somewhat more systematic manner as well. Toward this end, I conducted 34 standardized interviews dealing with some of the issues pre¬ sented in this chapter. I interviewed not only the men of the particular squads I was living with, but also, when the oppor¬ tunity arose, combat soldiers of other squads in the same com¬ pany. Some of the information contained in these 34 inter¬ views is amenable to tabular ordering and is so presented. Yet even when given in tabular form the data are not to be con¬ ceived as self-contained, but rather as supportive of more broadly based observations. I know that it is hazardous, if not presumptuous, to gen¬ eralize about the contemporary American combat soldier from observations of such limited scope. But I think it worthwhile. In the first place, I regard the men interviewed and observed as typical and representative of American combat soldiers. The attitudes expressed by the formally interviewed soldiers constantly reappeared in shorter conversations I had with numerous other combat soldiers in both 1965 and 1967. Again and again, I was struck by the common reactions of soldiers to the combat experience and their participation in the war. Moreover, since the data is not of the survey-sample kind, but relies instead on intimate interviewing and participant ob¬ servations, the materials gathered allow certain kinds of qualitative inferences. What was being tapped were the deeply held values and world views of these soldiers. By being in the combat situation, I could go beyond ritualistic answers to pat questions. In any event, I assert with some confidence that the

137 The American Enlisted Man findings reflect a set of beliefs widely shared by American combat soldiers throughout Vietnam during the period of the field work. Before looking at the attitudes and behavior of American combat soldiers in Vietnam, some prefatory comment is in order on the proportional numbers of military personnel in combat situations and on the social composition of combat groups. How many men are actually combat soldiers? Despite a commonly held view that danger to American soldiers was widespread throughout Vietnam and pervasive for all echelons, the fact remains that in any large-scale military organization— even in the actual theater of war—only a fraction of men under arms personally experience combat. As in other modern Ameri¬ can wars, nearly all casualties in Vietnam are suffered by that small group of men in the front or first echelon of the military organization: the soldiers taking part in patrols, major battles, and air operations. Although rear-echelon units may be sub¬ jected to occasional commando-type raids by the enemy as well as sporadic rocket bombardment, observers in Vietnam agree that only a small proportion of casualties occur in other than front-echelon units. Interestingly, there is a strong element of formal organi¬ zational support for defining the conflict in Vietnam as a “no front war.” Combat pay is given to all military personnel in Vietnam regardless of duties; income tax benefits and postal franking privileges are given to all soldiers stationed “in¬ country” ; and, most important, the one-year rotation cycle applies equally to the supply clerk in Saigon and to the rifle¬ man who has spent all his time in the field. Moreover, the notion that danger is widespread throughout Vietnam is one, as would be expected, that is informally fostered by many rear-area personnel. Yet, as has been true in other, if not all, wars, the front-echelon soldier makes a sharp distinction be¬ tween his position and that of rear-area servicemen. But coming up with definite figures on the proportion of men actually in combat is extremely difficult. The unavail¬ ability of casualty statistics by unit designation, conflicting definitions of what constitutes combat, and changing numbers

138 Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam of men, all preclude a final answer to how many men can be considered combat soldiers. Press reports in mid-1967 placed the proportion of American soldiers in the first echelon—that is, directly engaging with the enemy—at 14 per cent.8 This estimate closely corresponds with the views of other informed observers. To this one can add about the same proportion of the total forces who are in close combat-support units. In other words, approximately 70 per cent of the men in Vietnam can¬ not be considered combat soldiers except by the loosest of definitions. And the proportion of military noncombatants would be even higher if one added to the men physically sta¬ tioned in South Vietnam those American military personnel assigned to bases in the wider war theater and naval units offshore. If the combat numbers in the Vietnam War were proportioned over the entire 3,400,000 men in the American armed forces for this period only about 2 per cent of the total active-duty personnel were directly experiencing combat. At this point it is exceedingly important to reiterate a crucial set of findings documented earlier. Namely, once within the military organization, persons coming from the lower socioeducational levels and racial minority groups of our society are overproportionately assigned to combat units. This general state of affairs is directly reflected in the social com¬ position of the combat squads I observed. As summarized in Table 6.1, the 34 soldiers interviewed had the following civilian backgrounds prior to entering the service: 10 were high school dropouts, only 2 of whom were ever regularly employed; 21 were high school graduates, 6 directly entering the service after finishing school; and 3 were college dropouts. None were college graduates. Eighteen of the 34 combat soldiers had full-time employment before entering the service, 12 in blue- collar jobs and 6 in white-collar employment. In terms of con¬ ventional categories, about two-thirds of the soldiers were from working-class backgrounds with the remainder being from the lower middle class. As for other social background characteristics: 8 were black; 1 was a Navajo; another was from Guam; the other 20 men were white, including 3 Mexican-Americans and 1

139 The American Enlisted Man

Puerto Rican. Only 7 of the squad members were married (three after entering the service). All the men, except the 2 sergeants, were in their late teens and early twenties, the average age being 20. Again excepting the sergeants, all were on their initial enlistments. Twenty of the men were draftees and 14 were regular Army volunteers. Importantly, except for occasional sardonic comments directed toward the regulars by the draftees, the behavior and attitudes of the soldiers toward the war were very similar regardless of how they en¬ tered the service.

The Combat Situation To convey the immediacy of the combat situation is hard enough for the novelist, not to say the sociologist. But to understand the way the soldier’s attitudes and behavior are shaped, one must try to comprehend the extreme physical con¬ ditions under which he must manage. It is only in the context of the immediate combat situation that one can appreciate the nature of the primary-group processes developed in combat squads. For within the network of interpersonal relationships with fellow squad members, the combat soldier is also fighting a very private war, a war he hopes to leave alive and unscathed.

Absolute deprivation. The concept of relative deprivation, as an interpretive variable, suggests that an individual’s evaluation of his situation can be understood by knowing the reference group of comparison. We should not, however, lose sight of those extreme conditions where deprivation is absolute as well as relative. In the combat situation of absolute deprivation, the individual’s social horizon is narrowly determined by his immediate life chances, in the most literal sense. The combat soldier, as an absolutely deprived person, responds to direct- situational exigencies. He acts pragmatically to maximize short-run advantages in whatever form they exist. Though combat soldiers do not display what C. Wright Mills termed the “sociological imagination” (i.e., relating personal situations to broader societal conditions), this is not simply a default in political sophistication.9 Rather, for the soldier concerned Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam with his own day-to-day survival, the decisions of state that brought him into combat are simply irrelevant. It is in this sense that the pros and cons of the basic issues of national policy become meaningless to the combat soldier. In the combat situation, the soldier not only faces the im¬ minent danger of loss of life and, more frightening for most, limb, but also witnesses combat wounds and deaths suffered by “buddies.” Moreover, there are the routine physical stresses of combat existence: the weight of the pack, tasteless food, diarrhea, lack of water, leeches, mosquitos, rain, torrid heat, mud, and loss of sleep. In an actual firefight with the enemy, the scene is generally one of utmost chaos and confusion. Deadening fear intermingles with acts of bravery and, strangely enough, even moments of exhilaration and comedy. If enemy prisoners are taken, they may be subjected to atroci¬ ties in the rage of battle or its immediate aftermath. The soldier’s distaste of endangering civilians is overcome by his fear that Vietnamese, of any age or sex, can be responsible for his own death. Where the opportunity arises, looting often occurs. War souvenirs are frequently collected either to be kept personally or later sold to rear-echelon servicemen. Once the combat engagement is over, the soldier still has little idea in a strategic sense of what has been accomplished. His view of the war is limited to his own personal observations and subsequent talks with others in the same platoon or com¬ pany. The often-noted reluctance of combat soldiers to dis¬ cuss their experiences when back home is not present in the field. They make a conversational mainstay of recounting battles and skirmishes with the enemy. They engage in such discussions not so much for their intrinsic interest but, more importantly, to specify tactical procedures that may save lives in future encounters with the enemy.

Rotation. For the individual soldier, the paramount factor affecting combat motivation is the operation of the rotation system. Under assignment policies during the period of the field study, military personnel served a twelve-month tour of duty in Vietnam. Barring his being killed or severely wounded,

HI The American Enlisted Man then, every soldier knows his exact departure date from Viet¬ nam. The combat soldier’s whole being centers on reaching his personal DEROS (from Date Expected Return Overseas). It would be hard to overstate the soldier’s constant concern with how much more time—down to the day—he has remaining in Vietnam. The Vietnam rotation policy differs importantly from previous wartime assignment policies. In the First and Second World Wars, men served for the duration until final military victory was achieved. In the war in Korea, a rotation policy was introduced, but Army men assigned to rear echelons served a longer period than those in combat units. In Vietnam, on the other hand, no distinction is made for rotation purposes be¬ tween front- and rear-echelon units. In other words, a uni- versalist assignment policy further compounds imbalances in sharing the risks of combat. Within the combat unit itself, the rotation system has many consequences for social cohesion and individual motivation. The rapid turnover of personnel hinders the development of primary-group ties as well as rotating out of the unit men who have attained combat experience. It also, however, mitigates those strains (noted in World War II) when new replacements are confronted by seasoned combat veterans.10 Also, because of the tactical nature of patrols and the somewhat random likelihood of encountering the enemy, a new arrival may soon experience more actual combat than many of the men in the same company who are nearing the end of their tour in Viet¬ nam. In any event, whatever its effects on the long-term com¬ bat effectiveness of the American forces as a whole, the rotation system largely accounts for the usually high morale of the individual combat soldier. During his one-year tour in Vietnam, the combat soldier undergoes definite changes in attitude toward his situation. Although such attitudes vary depending on individual per¬ sonality and combat experience, they typically follow this course. Upon arrival to his unit and for several weeks follow¬ ing, the soldier is excited to be in the war zone and looks forward to engaging the enemy. After the first serious en-

U2 Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam

counter, however, he loses his enthusiasm for combat. The soldier becomes highly respectful of the enemy’s fighting abilities and begins to develop anti-South Vietnamese senti¬ ments. He is dubious of victory statements issued from higher headquarters and official reports of enemy casualties. From about the third to the eight month of his tour in Vietnam, the soldier operates on a kind of plateau of moderate commitment to the combat role. Toward the ninth and tenth months, the soldier’s esprit picks up as he begins to regard himself as an “old soldier.” It is usually at this point that the soldier is generally most combat-effective. As he approaches the end of his tour in Vietnam, however, he begins noticeably to withdraw his efficiency. He now becomes reluctant to engage in offensive combat operations. Stories are repeated of the men killed the day they were to rotate back to the United States. “Short- timer’s fever” is implicitly recognized by the others and de¬ mands on short-timers are informally reduced. The final dis¬ engagement period of the combat soldier is considered a kind of earned prerogative which those earlier in the rotation cycle hope eventually to enjoy. In other words, short-timer’s fever is a tacitly approved way of cutting short the soldier’s ex¬ posure to combat dangers.* Overall, the rotation system reinforces a perspective that is essentially private and self-concerned. Thus, somewhat remarkably, I found little difference in the attitudes of combat soldiers in Vietnam over a two-year interval. This attitudinal consistency was due largely to each soldier’s going through a similar rotation experience. The end of the war is marked by the individual’s rotation date and not by its eventual outcome— whether victory, defeat, or stalemate. Even discussion of broader military strategy and the progress of the war—except

In August, 1969, wide press coverage was given to the “Alpha Company incident” in Vietnam. This centered around the refusal of some men in the combat unit to return to battle. Although the incident was greatly ovei'blown, it is significant that Alpha was known at the time to be a “short-timer’s” company. The American Enlisted Man when directly impinging on one’s unit—appears irrelevant to the combat soldier: “My war is over when I go home.” When the soldier feels concern over the fate of others, it is for those he personally knows in his own outfit. His concern does not extend to those unknown persons who have preceded him or will eventually replace him. Rather, the attitude is typically, “I’ve done my time, let the others do their’s.” Or, as put in the soldier’s vernacular, he is waiting to make the final entry on his “figmo” chart—“fuck it, got my orders [to return to the United States].” Whatever incipient identi¬ fication there might be with abstract comrades-in-arms is cir¬ cumvented by the privatized view of the war fostered by the rotation system.

Primary groups and self-interest. As a sociological concept, the notion of primary groups has been one of the most fruitful in furthering our knowledge of the makeup of human society and the operation of large-scale organizations. Indeed, the com¬ ponents of all institutions consist to some extent of small groups whose members associate with each other over extended periods of time, and develop some sense of shared cohesion and intimacy. In its pure-type formulation, the primary group consists of personal relationships in which the group’s main¬ tenance and ends are intrinsically valued for their own sake, rather than mechanisms which serve individual self-interests. Descriptions of combat motivation in military organiza¬ tions have heavily relied on the importance of social groupings governed by intimate face-to-face relations. I particularly have in mind the germinal studies of World War II found in The American Soldier by Stouffer and his associates, and the analysis of the Wehrmacht by Shils and Janowitz.11 These and similar studies saw combat behavior as largely dependent upon the individual’s identification and solidarity with fellow squad and platoon members. Little’s participant observations in an infantry rifle company during the war in Korea, although within the general framework of primary-group analyses, dilfer by describing the basic unit of social cohesion as two- Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam

man relationships rather than following squad or platoon boundaries.12 My observations in Vietnam, however, indicate that the concept of primary groups has certain limitations in explain¬ ing combat behavior and motivation even beyond that sug¬ gested by Little. At least in Vietnam, the instrumental and self-serving aspects of primary relations in combat units must be more fully appreciated. If the individual soldier is realisti¬ cally to improve his survival chances, he must necessarily develop and take part in primary-group relations. Moreover, as Little has pointed out, such reciprocal behavior is likely to be most intense at dyadic levels in the form of two-man “buddy” relationships. But even the buddy relationship, at its core, consists of a mutually pragmatic effort to minimize personal risk. In other words, under the extreme conditions of ground warfare, an individual’s survival is directly related to the support—moral, physical, and technical—he can expect from his fellow soldiers. He gets such support largely to the degree that he reciprocates to the others in his group in general, and to his buddy in particular. Interpreting the solidarity of combat squads as outcomes of individual self-interest within a particular situational con¬ text can be corroborated by two illustrations. The first instance deals with the behavior of the man on “point” in a patroling operation. The point man is usually placed well in front of the main body, thereby being in the most exposed position. Soldiers naturally dread this dangerous assignment, but a good point man is a safeguard for the entire patrol. What happens often as not is that men on point behave in a noticeably careless manner in order to avoid regular placement in that position. (At the same time, the point man must not be so incautious as to put himself completely at the mercy of an encountered enemy force.) In plain language, soldiers do not typically perform at their best when on point; personal safety overrides group interest. The paramouncy of individual self-interest in combat units is also indicated by looking at the pattern of letter-writing. Squad members who have returned to the United States seldom The American Enlisted Man write to those remaining behind. It most cases, nothing more is heard from a soldier after he leaves the unit. Once a soldier’s personal situation undergoes a dramatic change—going home —he makes little or no effort to keep in contact with his old squad. Perhaps even more revealing, those still in the combat area seldom attempt to initiate mail contact with a former squad member. The rupture of communication is mutual despite protestations of lifelong friendship during the shared combat period. The soldier writes almost exclusively to those with whom he anticipates renewed personal contact upon leaving the service: his family and relatives, girl friends, and civilian male friends. Do the contrasting interpretations of the network of social relations in combat units—the primary groups of World War II, the two-man relationships of the Korean conflict, and the essentially individualistic soldier in Vietnam described here— result from conceptual differences on the part of the com¬ mentators, or do they reflect substantive differences in the social cohesion of the American soldiers being described? If substantive differences do obtain, particularly between World War II and the wars in Korea and Vietnam, much of this variation could be accounted for by the disruptive effects on combat solidarity caused by the introduction of the rotation system in the latter two wars.13 It is also relevant to note, however, that even in World War II certain students of Ameri¬ can soldiers found the primacy of an individualistic ethos. In a comparison of the American and German armies, Spindler came to the conclusion that a central quality of the American’s orientation toward the military was “self-interest to the point of domination of all other values.”14 Likewise, Rose attributed similar consequences to the American tradition of “looking out for Number One.”15

Latent Ideology Even if we could decide whether combat primary groups are essentially entities sui generis or outcomes of pragmatic self- interest, there remain other difficulties in understanding the part they play in maintaining organizational effectiveness. For Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam it has been amply demonstrated in many contexts that primary groups can serve to hinder as well as to serve attaining the formal goals of the larger organization. Thus, to describe effective combat motivation principally in terms of primary- group ties leaves unanswered the question of why various armies—independent of training and equipment—perform differently in times of war. Indeed, because of the very ubiquity of primary groups in military organizations, we must look for supplementary factors to explain variations in combat motivation. I propose that primary groups maintain the soldier in his combat role only when he has an underlying commitment to the worth of the larger social system for which he is fighting. This commitment need not be formally articulated, nor even perhaps consciously recognized. But he must at some level accept, if not the specific purposes of the war, then at least the broader rectitude of the social system of which he is a member. Although American combat soldiers do not espouse overtly ideological sentiments and are extremely reluctant to voice patriotic rhetoric, this should not obscure the existence of more latent beliefs in the legitimacy, and even superiority, of the American way of life. Although the heuristic utility of the concept of ideology has been a source of special controversy in a quite extensive litera¬ ture, I want only to specify some of the more salient values held by American combat soldiers in Vietnam. At the risk of further compounding an already confusing lexicon, I have used the term latent ideology to describe the social and cultural sources of those beliefs manifest in the attitudes toward the war held by American soldiers. Latent ideology, in this context, refers to those widely shared sentiments of soldiers which, though not overtly political or even necessarily substantively political, nevertheless have concrete consequences for combat motivation. This conception of combat motivation draws upon the recent emphasis in diverse social science writings on the nature of those underlying aspects of belief systems which may set the context for political behavior. In particular, I have in mind

U7 The American Enlisted Man those ideas couched in such terms as political culture,16 basic value orientations,17 ideological dimensions,18 central value sys¬ tem,19 and political ideology.20 These notions have been devel¬ oped to bridge the gap between the level of microanalysis based on individual behavior and the level of macroanalysis based on variables common to political sociology. It is with this kind of understanding that we can best examine the dynamics of atti¬ tude formation among American combat soldiers. As Robert Lane has convincingly argued in his study of the “American common man,” students of political behavior have too often asked questions which are important only to political sci¬ entists.21 When the individual responds in a way that seems either ideologically confused or apathetic, he is considered to have no political ideology. Moreover, since an individual’s in¬ volvement in the polity is usually peripheral, it is quite likely that his political attitudes will be organized quite differently from those of ideologues or political theorists. But by focusing on underlying value orientations, we may find a set of attitudes having a definite coherence—especially within the context of that individual’s life situation.

Anti-ideology. Quite consistently, the American combat soldier displays a profound skepticism of political and ideological appeals. Somewhat paradoxically, then, anti-ideology itself is a recurrent and integral part of the soldier’s belief system.22 They dismiss patriotic slogans or exhortations to defend democracy with “What a crock,” “Be serious, man,” or “Who’s kidding who?” In particular, they have little belief that they are protecting an outpost of democracy in South Vietnam. United States Command Information pronouncements stress¬ ing defense of South Vietnam as an outpost of the “free world” are almost as dubiously received as those of Radio Hanoi which accuse Americans of imperialist aggression. As one soldier put it, “Maybe we’re supposed to be here and maybe not. But you don’t have time to think about things like that. You worry about getting zapped and dry socks tomorrow. The other stuff is a joke.” In this same vein, when the soldier responds to the question

U8 Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam as to why he is in Vietnam, his answers are couched in a quite individualistic frame of reference. He sees little relationship between his presence in Vietnam and the national policies which brought him there. Twenty-seven of the 34 interviewed combat soldiers defined their presence in the war in terms of personal misfortune. (See Table 6.2.) Typical responses were: “My outfit was sent over here and me with it”; “My tough luck in getting drafted” ; “I happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time”; “I was fool enough to join this man’s Army”; and “My own stupidity for listening to the recruiting ser¬ geant.” Only five soldiers initially mentioned broader policy implications—to stop Communist aggression. Two soldiers stated they requested assignment in Vietnam because they wanted to be “where the action is.” Because of the combat soldier’s overwhelming propensity to see the war in private and personal terms, I had to ask specifically what the United States was doing in Vietnam. When the question was rephrased in this manner, the soldiers most often said they were in Vietnam “to stop Communism.” “To stop Communism” is about the only ideological slogan the American combat soldier can be brought to utter. As reported in Table 6.2, 19 of the 34 interviewed soldiers saw stopping Communism as the purpose of the war. But when they ex¬ pressed this view it was almost always in terms of defending the United States, not the “free world” in general or South Vietnam in particular. They said : “The only way we’ll keep them out of the States is to kill them here”; “Let’s get it over now, before they’re too strong to stop”; “They have to be stopped somewhere” ; “Better to zap this country than let them do the same to us.” Fifteen of the soldiers gave responses other than stopping Communism. Three gave frankly cynical explanations of the war by stating that domestic prosperity in the United States depended on a war economy. Two soldiers held that the Amer¬ ican intervention was a serious mistake initially, but that it was now too late to withdraw because of the national com¬ mitment. One man even gave a Malthusian interpretation, arguing that war was needed to limit population growth. Nine The American Enlisted Man of the soldiers could give no reason for the war even after extensive discussion. Within this group, one heard responses such as: “I only wish I knew”; “Maybe Johnson knows, but I don’t”; and “I’ve been wondering about that ever since I got here.” I asked each of the 19 soldiers who mentioned stopping Communism as the purpose of the war what was so bad about Communism that it must be stopped at the risk of his own life. The first reaction to such a question was usually perplexity or rueful shrugging. After thinking about it, and with some prodding, 12 of the men expressed their distaste for Commu¬ nism by stressing its authoritarian aspects in social relations. They saw Communism as a system of excessive social regi¬ mentation that allows the individual no autonomy in the pur¬ suit of his own happiness. Typical descriptions of Communism were: “That’s when you can’t do what you want to do” ; “Some¬ body’s always telling you what to do” ; or “You’re told where you work, what you eat, and when you shit.” As one man wryly put it, “Communism is something like the Army.” While the most frequently mentioned features of Com¬ munism concerned the individual’s relationship to higher authority, other descriptions were also given. As summarized in Table 6.3, three soldiers mentioned the atheistic and anti¬ church aspects of Communism; two specifically talked of the absence of political parties and democratic political institu¬ tions ; and one man said Communism was good in theory, but could never work in practice because human beings were “too selfish.” Only one soldier mentioned the issue of public versus private property ownership. It should be repeated and heavily stressed that the reasons given for the war and the descriptions of Communism offered by the combat soldiers were nearly always the result of extended discussion and questioning. When left to themselves, the soldiers rarely discussed the reasons for America’s military intervention in Vietnam, the nature of Communist systems, or other political issues.23

Americanism. The fact that the American soldier is not overtly

150 Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam

ideological should not obscure the existence of those salient values which do contribute to his motivation in combat. Despite the soldier’s ideological unconcern and his pronounced embarrassment in the face of patriotic rhetoric, he neverthe¬ less displays an elemental American nationalism in the belief that the United States is the best country in the world. Even though he hates being in the war, the combat soldier typically believes—in a kind of joyless patriotism—he is fighting for his American homeland. As already reported, when the soldier does articulate the purposes of the war, the view is most often expressed that if Communist aggression is not stopped in Southeast Asia, it will be only a matter of time before the United States itself is in jeopardy. The suasion of the so-called “domino theory” is powerful among combat soldiers as well as the general public back home. The soldier definitely does not see himself fighting for South Vietnam per se. Quite the contrary, he thinks South Vietnam a worthless country. Indeed, the soldier’s high evalua¬ tion of his American homeland has its obverse side in a wide¬ spread dislike of the Vietnamese. The low regard in which the Vietnamese—“slopes” or “dinks”—are held is constantly present in the derogatory comments on the avarice of those who pander the Gls, the treachery of the Vietnamese people, and the numbers of Vietnamese young men in the cities who are not in the armed forces. Anti-Vietnamese sentiment is most glaringly apparent in the hostility toward the arvn (from “Army of the Republic of Vietnam,” pronounced “Arvin”) who are supposed military allies. Disparaging remarks about the fighting qualities of the South Vietnamese forces are endemic. In marked contrast to the ridicule and antipathy toward the ARVN is the respect American combat soldiers show for enemy forces, either Viet Cong or North Vietnamese regulars. In particular, the Viet Cong’s ability to improvise tactically and make do with rudimentary weaponry is ruefully admired. There are frequent remarks along the line of: “If arvn had only a couple of guys like the VC, we could go home today” ; “Why do our Vietnamese fight so lousy and theirs fight so

151 The American Enlisted Man good.” Yet, the American soldier is somewhat puzzled as to the reasons behind his opponent’s excellent fighting abilities and valor in combat. One occasionally hears serious explanations attributing the bravery of the enemy to their using marijuana or narcotics.

Materialism. A variety of factors underlie the soldier’s funda¬ mental pro-Americanism, not the least of them is his immediate reliance on fellow Americans for mutual support in a country where virtually all indigenous people are seen as actual or potential threats to his physical safety. He also has deep con¬ cern for his family and loved ones back home. These considera¬ tions, however, are general to any army fighting in a foreign land. It is on another level, then, that I tried to uncover those aspects of American society as a unique whole that were most relevant to the combat soldier. To obtain such a general picture of the soldier’s conception of his homeland, I asked the following question: “Tell me in your own words, what makes America different from other countries?” The overriding feature in the soldier’s perception of the American way of life is the creature comforts that life can offer. (See Table 6.4.) Twenty-two of the soldiers described the United States by its high-paying jobs, automobiles, con¬ sumer goods, and leisure activities. No other description of America came close to being mentioned as often as the high— and apparently uniquely American—material standard of living. Thus, only four of the soldiers emphasized America’s democratic political institutions; three mentioned religious and spiritual values; two spoke of the general characteristics of the American people; and one said America was where the in¬ dividual advanced on his own worth ; another talked of America’s natural and physical beauties; and one black soldier described America as racist. Put another way, it is the mate¬ rialistic—and the word is not used pejoratively—aspects of life in America that are most salient to combat soldiers.’24 The soldier’s belief in the superiority of the American way of life is further reinforced by the contrast with the Viet¬ namese standard of living. The combat soldier cannot help

152 Behavior of Coynbat Soldiers in Vietnam

making invidious comparisons between the life he led in the United States—even if he is working class—and what he sees in Vietnam. Although it is more pronounced in the Orient, it must be remembered that Americans abroad, whether military or civilian, usually find themselves in locales that compare un¬ favorably with the material affluence of the United States. Indeed, in the hypothetical situation where American soldiers would be stationed in a country with a markedly higher mate¬ rial standard of living than that of the United States, it is very likely they would be severely shaken in their belief as to the merits of American society. Moreover, the combat soldier, by the very fact of being a combat soldier, also leads an existence that is not only more dangerous than civilian life, but that is additionally more primi¬ tive and physically harsh. The soldier’s somewhat romanticized view of life back home is buttressed not only by his direct obser¬ vation of the Vietnamese scene, but also by his own immediate and personal lower standard of living. It has often been noted that front-line soldiers bitterly contrast their plight with the physical amenities enjoyed by their fellow countrymen, both rear-echelon soldiers as well as civilians back home.* While this is superficially true, the attitudes of American combat soldiers toward their compatriots are actually somewhat more ambiva¬ lent. For at the same time the soldier is begrudging the civilian his physical comforts, it is these very comforts for which he fights. Similarly, combat soldiers envy, rather than disapprove, those rear-echelon personnel who engage in sub rosct profiteer¬ ing. The materialistic ethic is reflected in another characteristic of American servicemen. Even among front-line combat sol¬ diers, one cannot help but be impressed by the plethora of in¬ dividually owned mechanical equipment. Transistor radios are

Nevertheless, the monetary rewards of combat service are not to be dismissed lightly. In 1968 an airborne staff sergeant, for example, earned monthly about $210 more than his counterpart in rank (pay grade E-6) stationed in the United States: $70 income tax benefit, $65 combat zone pay, $55 “jump” pay, and $20 overseas pay.

153 The American Enlisted Man practically de rigueur. Cameras and other photographic acces¬ sories are widely evident and used. Even the traditional letter¬ writing home is becoming displaced by tape recordings. It seems more than coincidental that American soldiers commonly refer to the United States as “The Land of the Big PX.”

Manly honor. Another factor that plays a part in combat moti¬ vation is found in the notions of masculinity and physical toughness which pervade the soldier's outlook toward warfare. Being a combat soldier is a man’s job. Front-line soldiers often make invidious comparisons with the virility of rear-echelon personnel. A soldier who has not experienced combat is called a “cherry” (i.e., virgin). Likewise, paratroopers express disdain for “legs” (as non-airborne soldiers are called). This he-man attitude is also found in the countless joking references to the movie roles embodied in the persons of John Wayne and Lee Marvin. That the military organization seeks to capitalize on these tendencies in American life is reflected in such perennial recruiting slogans as “The Marine Corps Builds Men” and “Join the Army and Feel Like a Man.” In this regard, the observations made on the ethic of mas¬ culinity among Wehrmacht soldiers during World War II seem equally appropriate to American soldiers in Vietnam:

Among young males in middle and late adolescence, the challenges of love and vocation aggravate anxieties about weakness. At this stage fears about potency are considera¬ ble. When men who have passed through this stage are placed in the entirely male society of a military unit, freed from the control of adult civilian society and missing its gratifications, they tend to regress to the adolescent condi¬ tion. The show of “toughness” and hardness which is re¬ garded as a virtue among soldiers is a response to these reactivated adolescent anxieties about weakness.”25

It should be underscored, however, that an exaggerated masculine ethic is much less evident among soldiers after their units have been bloodied. As the realities of combat are faced, Behavior of Combat Soldiers in Vietnam more prosaic definitions of manly honor emerge. (Also, there is more frequent expression of the male role in manifestly sexual rather than combative terms, e.g., the repeatedly heard “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”) That is, notions of masculinity serve to create initial motivation to enter combat, but recede once the life-and-death facts of warfare are confronted. More¬ over, once the unit is tempered by combat, definitions of manly honor are not seen to encompass individual heroics. Quite the opposite, the very word “hero” is used to describe negatively any soldier who recklessly jeopardizes the unit’s welfare.26 Men try to avoid going out on patrols with individuals who are overly anxious to make contact with the enemy. Much like the slacker at the other end of the spectrum, the “hero” is also seen as one who endangers the safety of others. As is the case with virtually all combat behavior, the ultimate standard rests on keeping alive.

This account of American combat soldiers in Vietnam has ad¬ dressed itself to some of the prevailing assumptions on combat performance; particularly those social science viewpoints which deemphasized the salience of ideological considerations for combat soldiers and which stressed instead the determina¬ tive nature of primary relationships in combat groups. I have sought to demonstrate that these assumptions require modifica¬ tion in certain major ways. Moreover, rather than conceiving the ideological and primary-group explanations as mutually exclusive, our knowledge of combat motivation must be in¬ formed by an awareness of the manner in which both of these considerations are interrelated. That the American soldier has a general aversion to overt ideological symbols and patriotic appeals should not obscure those latent ideological factors which serve as pre-conditions in supporting the soldier to exert himself under dangerous condi¬ tions. For the individual behavior and small-group processes occurring in combat squads operate within a widespread at- titudinal context of underlying value commitments; most notably, an anti-political outlook coupled with a belief in the worthwhileness of American society. These values—whether

155 The American Enlisted Man misguided or not—must be taken into account in explaining the generally good combat performance American soldiers have given of themselves. The findings reported in this study also reveal that the in¬ tensity of primary-group ties so often reported in combat units are best viewed as mandatory necessities arising from immedi¬ ate life-and-death exigencies. Much like the Hobbesian descrip¬ tion of primitive life, the combat situation also reaches the state of being nasty, brutish and short. To carry the Hobbes¬ ian analogy a step further; one can view primary-group processes in the combat situation as a kind of rudimentary social contract; a contract which is entered into because of advantages to individual self-interest. Rather than viewing soldiers’ primary groups as some kind of semi-mystical bond of comradeship, they can be better understood as pragmatic and situational responses. Furthermore, the American soldier’s essentially individualistic frame of reference is structurally reinforced by the operation of formal organizational assign¬ ment policies—the rotation system—which sets a private ter¬ minal date for each soldier’s participation in the war. This is not to deny the existence of strong interpersonal ties within combat squads, but only to reinterpret them as derivative from the very private war each individual is fighting for his own survival.

156 SEVEN

The War and the GI

As the 1960s drew to a close, it became apparent that the move¬ ment against the Vietnam War was beginning to take sporadic form within the military itself. Much media attention was fo¬ cused on this occurrence. Indeed, if one believed the more ex¬ treme accounts, the armed forces were rife with internal dis¬ sension and plagued with unprecedented desertion rates. In fact, the antiwar movement was having an impact on military personnel, but not always in expected ways. It was certainly true, however, that until the most recent period, radical and student groups customarily either de¬ meaned or ignored the American serviceman. But as the war in Vietnam developed into a major conflict, it was evident that a new appraisal of American soldiers had taken place. There de¬ veloped, along with the New Left’s visceral repugnance of any¬ thing having to do with the military, a tactical awareness on the part of some young radicals that servicemen could be a potential source of support. For some of the more doctrinaire groups, the soldier himself could be seen as playing an impor¬ tant role in the broader revolutionary struggle. At one level, activities directed toward military personnel entailed distribution of antiwar pamphlets to servicemen, and setting up coffee houses near military installations where off- duty servicemen could be engaged in political conversations. The movement against the war in Vietnam also brought forth a whole new genre of protest newspapers—the “gi under¬ ground” press aimed at the enlisted ranks of the military. At least forty such newspapers have been surreptitiously pub¬ lished on or near military posts, one apparently from within then confines of the Pentagon itself.1 Steps were being taken in 1969 to establish a “Gi Press Service” to service these news¬ papers. More significant, there were direct efforts to organize Gls

157 The American Enlisted Man within the military organization itself. The most notable of such activities is the Trotskyist-influenced American Service¬ men’s Union (asu) founded in 1967. Headed by former Private Andrew Stapp, the ASU program includes the election of officers by enlisted men, collective bargaining for servicemen, and the right to refuse illegal and immoral orders—such as fighting in Vietnam. The ASU regularly publishes a well-edited newspaper, The Bond, which though grossly overstating the level of in¬ ternal military strife, nevertheless reports incidents that rarely see print in the standard press. In 1969 the ASU claimed an en¬ listed membership of 5,000 with representation on all major military posts. Officially, servicemen can take part in organized political activity only under very limited circumstances. Military regu¬ lations state that servicemen may participate in demonstra¬ tions only when they are not required for military duty, when they are not in uniform, when they are not on a military in¬ stallation, when the activity does not constitute a breach of law and order, and when violence is reasonably not likely to hap¬ pen.2 Despite these restrictions, it was undeniable that antiwar activities were creating serious problems for military com¬ manders in the late 1960s. One of the most significant occurred at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, in early 1969. A group of a hundred or so soldiers called “gis United Against the War in Vietnam” managed to hold a genuine antiwar demonstration on the base itself. Of a different order was the sitdown strike (legally adjudged a mutiny) in late 1968 of twenty-seven pris¬ oners of the Presidio stockade in San Francisco. This incident received national attention owing to the extreme severity of the penalties meted by military authorities (initial fifteen-year sentences, however, were subsequently greatly reduced). Al¬ though portrayed as a political act by some observers, the Presidio incident was in reality a local protest against stockade conditions with little if any premeditated ideological intent. In May, 1969, the Army set a significant precedent by issuing new guidelines for its commanding officers on how to handle dissension among their troops. The Army memorandum— entitled “Guidance on Dissent”—required officers to impose

158 The War and the GI

only the “minimum restraints necessary to enable the Army to perform its mission, and to safeguard the service member’s right of expression to the maximum extent possible.” Specifi¬ cally, the memorandum requires a commander not to prevent the distribution of a publication “simply because he does not like its contents.... The fact that a publication is critical —even unfairly critical—of government policies or officials is not in itself a ground for denial.” While a commander cannot prohibit the possession of an unauthorized publication, an attempt to distribute such a publication can be a violation of post regulations. Also, a commander may not prevent his men from going to a coffee house “unless it can be shown that activities taking place in the coffee house include counseling soldiers to refuse to perform duty or to desert or to otherwise involve illegal acts.” Finally, the memorandum stipulates that commanders understand that membership in a servicemen’s union is not against current Army regulations, although commanders “are not authorized to recognize or to bargain with such a union.” Although attempts to subvert military personnel in the United States are not inconsequential, it has been primarily in Western Europe—where the political climate is more conducive to overt anti-Americanism—that antimilitary groups have been most active.* There has come to exist a loose-knit network of Europeans and some Americans who distribute antiwar litera¬ ture to American servicemen and who assist Gis wishing to desert. Although united in their opposition to the United States in Vietnam, the European antiwar groups cover a wide ide¬ ological spectrum. They include, variously, pacifist organiza¬ tions such as Quakers and the War Resisters International, the mildly left-wing Swedish Vietnam Committee, Marxist-Lenin- ist groups of diverse persuasions, the hippie-anarchist Provos of the Netherlands, and the ultra-radical Student Socialist League in Germany.

Local groups aiding American deserters are also found in Japan. The most active is the Beheiren—Japan Peace for Vietnam Com¬ mittee.

159 The American Enlisted Man

By early 1969 American deserters in foreign countries numbered about 800, the principal sanctuary being Sweden.3 (It should be noted that the term “deserter” applies from the military standpoint to those who are absent from duty for a period of over 30 days. This is an administrative application of the term. It is only after conviction specifically on the charge of desertion that one is a deserter in the full legal sense.) Once arriving in a foreign country, the deserter usually must take up permanent residence if he is to be eligible for public welfare or employment on the local labor market. It is also the case, how¬ ever, that many deserters, either realizing the gravity of their decision or because of difficulty in adjusting to a foreign coun¬ try, have voluntarily turned themselves over to American juris¬ diction. In 1967 and 1968, military authorities were following a policy of relative lenity toward returning deserters. However, a 1969 Senate subcommittee report severely criticized the De¬ fense Department for what it termed “overemphasis on ex¬ tended leniency” which “reflects overconcern as to the plight of the wrongdoer.”4 The desertion figures for the Vietnam period, however, must be put into perspective. The 1967-1968 deser¬ tion rates in the armed forces were less than those of the World War II years and only slightly higher than during the Korean conflict.5 With the aid of European and American sympathizers, there has also been formed an organization called RITA—Resist¬ ers Inside The Army—whose membership is drawn principally from deserters from European-based units. RITA began its of¬ fensive against the Army in 1967 with a newsletter called Act, whose motto is: “American servicemen unite! You have noth¬ ing to lose but your stripes!” Act has since published on a pe¬ riodic basis and claims that over 50,000 servicemen have read it at one time or another.* Act carefully notes: “We don’t urge you to desert—that’s a totally personal decision.” But in case some of its readers should decide to desert, the newsletter

Act, which is Paris based, is not the only underground newspaper directed to American servicemen in Europe. Having essentially the same message are the Berlin-published Where It’s At and The Second Front coming from Stockholm.

160 The War and the GI offers the following advice on “Where Soldiers Have Gone— In Order From Best To Worst.”

THE SAFEST country to go is Sweden : Sweden has given full political rights to deserters. This means safety from being sent back to the Army, closer at hand to GERMANY AND ALMOST EQUALLY SAFE IS FRANCE : France has granted short-term, regularly renewed residence to every deserter. Switzerland is ok once you are inside : But sometimes they give you trouble at the border. NORWAY, DENMARK, HOLLAND AND BELGIUM are supposed to be un¬ friendly, but in fact they try hard to avoid seeing things. ENGLAND IS STILL A RISKY PLACE TO BE. ITALY IS BAD AND POLICE ARE UNFRIENDLY. WEST GERMANY ARRESTS AND RETURNS.

When antiwar activities directed toward American servicemen first began to attract publicity, the United States military command in Europe initially adopted a policy of downplaying or dismissing such activities. Since 1967, how¬ ever, all military personnel are officially warned to report immediately any approaches, even if only by mail, made by antiwar groups. Yet, despite the military’s growing concern over antiwar activities and despite the international attention that has been given to American deserters, the prevailing at¬ titude of European-based troops is not what one might expect. For not only were antiwar appeals having little suasion on the vast majority of servicemen, but, to the contrary, many soldiers were actually requesting duty in Vietnam. According to a press report, one in five European-based servicemen in 1966 and 1967 had submitted “1049s”—transfer requests— for Vietnam.0 My own observations among American troops in Germany during the summer of 1967 readily lead me to accept this figure. Rather than hearing expressions of concern over the war, I was repeatedly being asked by soldiers—who knew I had myself just come from Vietnam—how would it be possible to be transferred there. Several factors account for this desire to be sent to Vietnam

161 The American Enlisted Man

on the part of many servicemen. In the first place, there are always plenty of soldiers who for one reason or another are disgruntled with their present unit and who believe any transfer can only be a change for the better. Moreover, there was the widespread belief that promotions were more rapid in Vietnam. Further, there was also a mood—which is elusive to articulate—that by being stationed in Europe they were being left out of something important; a feeling that by not being in Vietnam they were in the backwash of the significant event of their generation. The ultimate irony of it all is that rather than causing antimilitary sentiments among soldiers, vicarious participation in the war in Vietnam was more likely to strengthen the legitimacy of the military.

Combat Soldiers’ Attitudes Toward Peace Demonstrators In both of my field trips to Vietnam I repeatedly heard combat soldiers—almost to a man—vehemently denounce peace demonstrators back in the United States. On first appearance such an attitude might be viewed as surprising. After all, com¬ bat soldiers would seem to be in agreement with peace demon¬ strators in their mutual desire to have American soldiers re¬ turn home. Yet such was not the case. In fact, overt political sentiments were forcefully expressed only when soldiers talked about antiwar demonstrations. Such denunciations were by no means invoked by the interview situation as they usually emerged in natural conversations. This was the only important exception to the combat soldier’s general unconcern with public events. Significantly, the soldier perceived the peace demonstra¬ tions as being directed against himself personally and not against the war in general. As one Gi heatedly told me: “Do they think I voted myself to come here? Why pick on the poor grunt [i.e., average foot soldier] ? You’d think I wanted this war.” There was also a widespread feeling that if peace demonstrators were in Vietnam, they would change their minds. As one man stated: “How can they know what’s hap¬ pening if they’re sitting on their asses in the States? Bring them here and they’d shape up quick enough.” Or as one

162 The War and the GI of the more philosophically inclined put it, “I’d probably feel the same way if I were back home. But once you’re here and your buddies are getting zapped, you see things differently.” Typically, the soldier’s reaction toward peace demonstrators was “Draft the son of a bitch so he can find what it’s all about” rather than any sympathetic disposition to weigh the merits of the antiwar arguments. To some extent the soldier’s dislike of peace demonstrators is also an outcome of class hostility. To many combat soldiers— themselves largely working class—peace demonstrators are regarded as socially privileged college students. Illustrative of this sentiment are the following remarks. “I’m fighting for those candy-asses who have it made just because I don’t have an old man to support me.” “I’m stuck here and those rich draft dodgers are having a ball raising hell.” “You’d think those guys would have more sense with all that education.” On another level, the peace demonstrators were seen as undercutting and demeaning the losses and hardships already suffered by American soldiers. “If we get out now, then every GI died for nothing. Is that why I’ve been putting my neck on the line?” Here we seem to have an illustration of what may be a more general social pattern : the tendency in human beings to justify to themselves sacrifices which they have already made. As Kenneth Boulding argues in another context, sacrifice itself can create legitimacy for an institution over a short period of time.7 Something of this sort undoubtedly contributed to the noticeable hawklike sentiments of combat soldiers. Boulding continues, however, that at some point sacrifices suddenly seem too much. The legitimacy of the whole enter¬ prise comes under critical reevaluation. But this point of sharp questioning of past and future sacrifices does not gen¬ erally occur among combat soldiers in Vietnam. I believe this is largely because the 12-month rotation system removes the soldier from the combat theater while his personal stake re¬ mains high and before he might begin to question the whole operation. The rotation system, in other words, not only main¬ tains individual morale but also fosters a collective commitment to justify American sacrifices.

163 The American Enlisted Man

The soldier’s situational predisposition to be hostile toward peace demonstrators is reinforced by his negative reactions to the substance of certain antiwar arguments. Where the combat soldier is constantly concerned with his own and fellow American’s safety, is a fundamental believer in the American way of life, and is profoundly apolitical, the radical element of the peace movement mourns the suffering of the Vietnamese, is vehement in its anti-Americanism, and is self-consciously ideological. At almost every point, the militant peace move¬ ment articulates sentiments in direct opposition to the basic values of the American soldier. Statements bemoaning civilian Vietnamese casualties are interpreted as wishes for greater American losses. Assertions of the United States’ immorality for its interventionist policies run contrary to the soldier’s elemental belief in the rectitude of the American nation. Argu¬ ments demonstrating the Viet Cong are legitimate revolu¬ tionaries have no suasion both because of the soldier’s igno¬ rance of Vietnamese history and, more importantly, because the Viet Cong are his military adversary. As one man summed it: “I don’t know who are the good guys or the bad guys, us or the v.c. But anybody who shoots at me ain’t my friend. Those college punks who want Charlie [the Viet Cong] to win are going to answer to a lot of us when we get back.” It must be stressed, however, that the soldier’s dislike of peace demonstrators is reactive and not engendered by pre¬ existing sentiments supporting the war. Paradoxically, then, the more militant peace demonstrations have probably created a level of support for the war among combat soldiers which would otherwise be absent. This is not to say that the soldier is immune to antiwar arguments. But the kind of arguments that would resonate among soldiers (e.g., Vietnam is not worth American blood, South Vietnam is manipulating the United States, the corruptness of the Saigon regime and ineptitude of the arvn make for needless United States casualties) are not the ones usually voiced by radical peace groups. Put in another way, the combat soldier is anti-peace demonstrator rather than pro-war. For it should be known as well that he also had scant affection for “support-the-boys” campaigns in the United The War and the GI

States. Again, the “they-don’t-know-what-it’s-all-about” attitude applied. As one soldier succinctly put it—and his words spoke for many: “The only support I want is out.” The vehement anti-demonstrator sentiments of combat Gis in Vietnam were paralleled, but with a different object, during my stay with American servicemen stationed in the Dominican Republic in 1966. United States Marines and soldiers in that country were subjected to extreme verbal abuse by Dominicans opposing the American intervention. The substance of the invective ranged from statements with ideo¬ logical content (i.e., American support of the Dominican oligarchy), to general “Yanqui-Go-Home” slogans, to ridicule of the troops’ masculinity (e.g., “If you’re so brave, why aren’t you in Vietnam!”). The outcome of this abuse from “constitutionalist rebel” elements was that American troops turned anti-rebel and pro-junta. What happened was that the Gis—who all wanted to go home immediately—came to view the rebel forces as the cause of their remaining in the Domini¬ can Republic. Again, as in Vietnam, the American troops were not pro¬ intervention but rather reacting against attacks perceived as personally directed toward Gis. (Indeed, in the Dominican Republic, there was some initial sympathy among American soldiers for the rebel cause in their belief that the rebels were for the “poor people.”) The difference between the two situa¬ tions was that in Vietnam troop resentment focused on Ameri¬ can demonstrators back home, while in Santo Domingo GI hostility was vented on anti-American Dominicans. In both occurrences, however, any incipient political questioning of American policies was reversed in the wake of antiwar or anti-Gi demonstrations.

165 m r§i The Emergent Military Establishment

In trying- to assess the relationship of the armed forces to American society, it is useful to conceive of a continuum ranging from a military organization highly differentiated from civilian society to a military system that is highly con¬ vergent with civilian structures. Concretely, of course, Amer¬ ica’s military forces have never been either entirely separate or entirely conterminous with civilian society. But conceiving of a scale along which the military has been more or less over¬ lapping with civilian society serves the heuristic purpose of highlighting the ever-changing interphase between the armed forces and American society. It is also in this way that we can be alerted to emergent trends within the military establish¬ ment ; trends that appear to augur a fundamental change in the social characteristics of the armed forces within the near future. The convergent-divergent model of armed forces and society, however, must account for several levels of variation. One variable centers around the way in which the membership of the armed forces is representative of the broader society. A second variation is the degree to which there are institutional parallels (or discontinuities) in the social organization of military and civilian structures. Differences in required skills between military and civilian occupations are a third aspect. A fourth variable refers to ideological (dis) similarities be¬ tween civilians and military men. Furthermore, internal distinctions within the armed forces cut across each of the preceding variables : differences between officers and enlisted men; differences between services; differences between branches within the services; differences between echelons within branches. Needless to add, there are formidable problems in ascer¬ taining the meaningful evidence on the degree of convergence

166 The Emergent Military Establishment or divergence between the armed forces and society.1 Dealing with this issue, some of the more important findings of previous researchers along with the introduction of new materials have been presented throughout this study. There appears to be general agreement among students of the subject that rela¬ tionships between military and civilian structures have gone through several distinctive and successive phases over the past generation. Prior to World War II (1939), the military forces of this country constituted less than 1 per cent of the male labor force. Armed forces personnel were exclusively volunteers, most of whom were making a career out of military service. Enlisted men were almost entirely of working-class or rural origin, and officers were overproportionately drawn from Southern Protestant middle-class families. Within the military organization itself, the vast majority of servicemen was assigned to combat or manual labor positions. Socially, the pre-World War II military was a self-contained institution with marked separation from civilian society. In its essential qualities, the “From-Here-to-Eternity” Army was a garrison force predicated upon military tradition, ceremony, hierarchy, and authority. The Second World War was a period of mass mobilization. By 1945 the number of men in uniform came close to 20 per cent of the total labor force, representing a proportionately much higher figure for young adult males. Although technical specialization proceeded apace during the war, the large majority of ground forces was still assigned to combat or service units. Even in the Navy and Air Corps—services where specialization was most pronounced—only about one- third of personnel was in technical or administrative spe¬ cialties. The membership of the World War II force was largely conscripted or draft-induced volunteers. Serving only for the duration of the war, the typical serviceman was essentially a civilian in uniform; a man who found distasteful the tradi¬ tional military forms of command, discipline, and social con¬ trol. To put it another way, the military of World War II, while socially representative of American society, was still

167 The American Enlisted Man an institution whose internal organization contrasted markedly with that of civilian structures. During the Cold War period the military—excepting for the buildups arising from the wars in Korea and Vietnam— accounted for between 3 and 4 per cent of the total labor force. Especially significant, technical specialization became a perva¬ sive trend throughout the military during the 1950s and early 1960s. The proportion of men assigned to combat or service units for all of the armed forces declined from 41 per cent at the end of World War II to 26 per cent in 1963. Conversely, the proportion assigned to electronics and technical specialties over the same time period increased from 13 to 22 per cent. These trends were most apparent in the Air Force which, because of the post-Korea doctrine of nuclear deterrence and massive retaliation, was also the military service experiencing the greatest proportional growth. In 1950, prior to the out¬ break of the Korean conflict, the Army constituted 41 per cent of total military manpower compared to 28 per cent for the Air Force. By 1960, the figure was 35 per cent for the Army and 33 per cent for the Air Force. These changes in the emphases of the military’s mission and the shifts in skill requirements had major consequences on the authority structure of the officer corps. Following the Korean War there was a movement away from the military system based on traditional authority to one placing greater stress on persuasion and individual incentive. Concurrently, a college degree became more and more a requisite for an officer’s commission. There was also an increase in the number of non¬ academy graduates at the highest levels of the military estab¬ lishment, and a broadening of the social origins of officers to include a more representative sampling of America’s regions and religious groups. More ominous, there was at the same time a growing lateral movement of military elites to top positions in the corporate and political world.2 Much of this concern was legitimized in President Eisenhower’s farewell address in which he warned of the “unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex.” Even sympathetic observers of the changing nature of the military

168 The Emergent Military Establishment establishment were in accord that there was a convergence in the managerial skills required in both civilian and military organizations. At the enlisted levels, however, the trend toward con¬ vergence with civilian society was much more muted. Espe¬ cially in the ground forces, the inert qualities of enlisted social organization persisted. For many draftees and single-term volunteers of the Cold War, military life was still experienced in its traditional forms. The membership of the enlisted ranks, moreover, was only partially representative of the larger American society. Broadly speaking, the Cold War enlisted man was typically of working- or lower-middle-class back¬ ground. The upper-middle-class youth was often deferred, or served as an officer. (But the small number of college-educated enlisted men was still sufficient to be defined as a special problem by many noncoms.) The lower-class youth, on the other hand, because of raised mental entrance standards, was generally excluded from military service during the Cold War period. The war in Vietnam has ushered in another phase in the relationships between the armed forces and society. There has been the obvious increase in troop strength: from 2,500,000 in 1961 to 3,500,000 in 1969. Because of the nature of the con¬ flict in Vietnam, moreover, the Army and Marine Corps have come to bear the brunt of the war (correspondingly diminish¬ ing the role of the Air Force and, to a lesser extent, that of the Navy as well). Concomitantly, there has been an ascendancy of the use of ground combat forces halting the long-term trend toward increasing technical specialization. The Vietnam War has also led to deviations from the Cold War policies of manpower procurement. In 1966, entrance standards were lowered to allow the induction of persons from lower mental levels—overproportionately lower class and black—formerly excluded from military service. In 1968, the manpower pool was again enlarged; this time by terminating draft deferments for recent college graduates—-largely middle-class whites. For the first time since the Korean conflict, the member¬ ship of the armed forces was again bearing some

169 The American Enlisted Man resemblance to the composition of the larger society. The immediate question is whether the Vietnam period represents a temporary aberration in the basic trends set since World War II or whether it portends a new and different type of military establishment. Put plainly, what is the likely shape of the armed forces in the foreseeable future? It is to this central issue that we now turn.

Toward a, Divergent Military A major insistence of this study has been that the armed forces at the enlisted levels have always been more disparate from civilian structures than the officer corps. But it is further proposed that the over-two-decade-long institutional con¬ vergence of the armed forces and American society is begin¬ ning to reverse itself. It appears highly likely, in other words, that the military in the post-Vietnam period will increasingly diverge along a variety of dimensions from the mainstream of developments in the general society. This emerging apartness of the military will be reflective of society-wide trends as well as indigenous efforts toward institutional autonomy on the part of the armed forces. This is not to argue that the military establishment will occupy a position reminiscent of the pre- World War II situation. The sheer size of the post-Vietnam military—in all likelihood over 2,500,000 men—and the proba¬ ble maintenance of Cold War policies preclude that. But it is to say that the military is undergoing a fundamental turning inward in its relations to the civilian structures of American society. Some of the more significant indicators of this growing divergence are summarized immediately below.

Enlisted membership. Historically speaking, the enlisted ranks have always been grossly overrepresentative of working- class youth. It must be recognized, nevertheless, that large numbers of middle-class youth have also served at the enlisted level over the past quarter-century. Indeed, as has been argued in this study, it is the enforced juxtaposition of working- and middle-class youth that gives the enlisted culture much of its distinctive quality. While middle-class men are most likely to

170 The Emergent Military Establishment

be drafted during times of military buildups, it is also true that even during the Cold War years between wars, the selective service system, directly or indirectly, infused a middle-class component into the military’s rank and file. Since the end of World War II, however, there has been a discernible and growing discrepancy between the educational levels of officers and enlisted men. The 1968 decision to draft a higher propor¬ tion of college graduates to meet the manpower needs of the Vietnam War can be regarded as only a temporary fluctuation in this trend. It is also the case, moreover, that the earlier 1966 decision to induct persons from lower mental levels more than counterbalanced the college inductees. Whatever the immediate effects of the Vietnam War on enlisted membership, it is almost certain that the social un¬ representativeness of the enlisted ranks will become much more marked in the post-Vietnam period. The high probability of a curtailed draft and major increases in military pay will serve to reduce significantly the degree of middle-class par¬ ticipation in the enlisted ranks. This state of affairs will become acutely pronounced if the Selective Service System is aban¬ doned entirely in favor of an all-volunteer force. For an armed forces not dependent upon either draftees or draft-motivated volunteers will of necessity increasingly draw its membership from America’s economic and racial underclasses. Further¬ more, such an enlisted membership coupled with an almost entirely college-educated officer corps will most likely con¬ tribute to a more rigid and sharp definition of the castelike distinctions between officers and enlisted men within the mili¬ tary organization of the 1970s.

Welfare role. Starting in 1966, the Department of Defense initiated a program of accepting recruits from Selective Serv¬ ice categories previously excluded from military service. The plan was for the military to accept 100,000 youths each year who, because of mental test score deficiencies, or in some cases minor physical defects, would otherwise have been rejected. Figures through June, 1968, show that a total of 118,000 such men were recruited into the military. Some 40 per cent were

171 The American Enlisted Man nonwhite and more than half had not completed high school. While the official rationale behind “Project 100,000” is that the military is uniquely suited to “salvage” poverty-scarred youth, the program in effect also opened up an essentially lower-class manpower pool from which to recruit enlisted personnel in the eventuality of an all-volunteer military force. 4nd in fact, from the military’s standpoint, the preliminary results of Project 100,000 have been encouraging. Ninety-six per cent of the men entering the military under the new program have successfully completed basic training, a figure only 2 per cent less than that of regular entrants. Another new program having deprived youth as its primary object is “Project Transition.” This program, initiated in 1968, is designed to provide marketable skills— through job training, formal education, and counseling—for servicemen soon to be discharged. Once in full operation, Project Transition is to train over 500,000 men leaving the service each year in a variety of civilian occupations. In time Project Transition may be as significant a development for lower-class veterans (viz. vocational training) as the Gl Bill was for middle-class veterans (viz. higher education). Although the military has traditionally served as a career avenue for many working-class youth, its welfare role has never been primary, nor even officially acknowledged.3 What is novel in programs along the lines of Project 100,000 and Project Transition is that the armed forces are now manifestly being used to prepare youth for the larger society and civilian marketplace. What is happening is that the armed forces are being used to correct the structural failures—socioeducational and socioeconomic—that now confront American society. The military establishment, in other words, is being charged with massive and unprecedented responsibilities for America’s underclasses. All this at the very same time that the post- Vietnam military appears to be heading toward less middle- class representation in its enlisted ranks.

Racial relations. The transformation of the armed forces from a totally segregated into a fully integrated institution is an

172 The Emergent Military Establishment impressive achievement in directed social change. Although the military is by no means a panacea for racial relations, it nevertheless stands in marked and favorable contrast to the racial situation in the country at large. Paradoxically enough, though, the very integration of the armed forces can be viewed as a divergence, if only in the short run, of the military from civilian society. This is to say that the sharpened polarization of the races—at least symbolically—occurring in contemporary American society is at odds with racial developments within the military. On this point, it is also probably true that racial integration of military life has not served to increase the acceptance or prestige of the armed forces. In fact, the reverse may be the case. Those sections of the civilian community who are egalitarian on racial matters are most often the least sym¬ pathetic to the military. Many of those who espouse militaristic values, on the other hand, are those who find racial integration distasteful. Put in another way, the racial integration of the armed forces has probably cost the military support among some of its traditional defenders, while not gaining any increased military support among liberal-radical groups.

Skill-transferability. The well-documented trend toward in¬ creasing technical specialization within the military has al¬ ready reached its maximal point. The end of this trend clearly implies a lessened transferability between military and civilian skills. A careful and detailed analysis of military occupational trends by Harold Wool reveals that the most pronounced shift away from combat and manual labor occupations occurred be¬ tween 1945 and 1957.4 Since that time there has been relative stability in the occupational requirements of the armed forces. In fact, developments in the 1960s resulted in a partial reversal of the long-term trend toward greater specialization. Shortly after coming into office, the Kennedy Administration decided to emphasize limited-war capabilities, a decision resulting in a higher proportion of enlisted men required for ground-combat specialties. While the greater reliance on ground forces has been abnormally accelerated by the war in Vietnam, limited-

775 The American Enlisted Man

war capabilities will apparently remain a cardinal tenet of this country’s military posture in the post-Vietnam period. Moreover, as Wool points out, it is often the technical jobs (e.g., specialized radio operators, warning systems personnel) that are most likely to be automated, thereby indirectly in¬ creasing the numbers of combat personal. Another factor that will contribute to a rising proportion of combat and manual labor specialties within the military is the Defense Department’s 1965 decision to replace servicemen with civil¬ ians in support-type military functions, particularly in ad¬ ministrative and clerical positions. By 1967 over 110,000 such formerly military positions were scheduled for civilian replacements. The almost certain maintenance of this policy into the 1970s will significantly increase the proportion of traditional military occupations within the enlisted ranks. The use of civilians in support-type positions, moreover, can be expected to be even more notable in the event of an all¬ volunteer military force.

Family life. Before the Second World War, the military at the enlisted levels was glaringly indifferent to family needs. In fact, excepting some noncoms, enlisted men were typically un¬ married men who spent most of their time within the confines of the military post and adjacent “boomtowns.” Indeed, prior to 1940 all enlisted men had to be bachelors at the time of their service entry. In World War II, millions of married men were recruited into the armed forces; except for allotment checks, however, families of servicemen more or less fended for themselves. Starting with the Cold War, the military began to take steps to deal with some of the practical problems faced by married personnel. An array of on-post privileges (e.g., free medical care, px and commissary privileges, government quarters for married noncoms) were established or expanded to meet the needs of military families. This greater concern for service families on the part of the military became especially evident in the late 1960s. Activities such as the Army’s Community Service and the Air Force’s Dependents Assistance Program are recent efforts to make The Emergent Military Establishment

available a wide range of services for enlisted families: legal and real estate advice; family counseling; baby-sitting serv¬ ices ; employment opportunities for wives; loans of infant furnishings, linen, and china; and the like. In one sense, the military’s belated recognition of family needs is a movement toward paralleling civilian society. From another perspective, however, we may expect a diminishment of ties with civilian institutions as family needs are increasingly met by family- service agencies within the armed forces. In this sense, then, we encounter another indication of an emerging divergence between the military and civilian worlds. At the risk of some overstatement, the pre-World War II military might be seen as a total institution encapsulating bachelors, while the post- Vietnam military may well encapsulate the family along with the serviceman husband-father.

Overseas forces. In 1940 about one-fourth of America’s mili¬ tary forces was deployed overseas—mainly in Hawaii, the Philippines, and the Panama Canal Zone. Since the end of World War II, the overseas proportion in peacetime has been about 30 per cent in foreign locales and another 10 per cent in possessions and noncontiguous states of the United States. The overseas proportion of our military forces is even higher during times of war such as in Korea and Vietnam. This is all to say that next to combat the most distinguishing characteris¬ tic of military compared to civilian life is the high probability of extended duty outside the continental United States. Another important consequence of a permanent overseas military force is the incorporation of large numbers of foreign nationals into the broader American system. It is not so gen¬ erally recognized that, unlike civilian structures, the American military has a sizable component of foreign nationals. These include, variously, those catering to gi hedonistic wants, the clerical and maintenance staff of overseas installations, and those persons hired by company-level units to perform menial and service work. In all but the narrowest of definitions, such foreign nationals must be considered an integral part of the overseas military community.

175 The American Enlisted Man

At a more significant level, there is another important non- American element in the American military system: the for¬ eign-national military personnel who come under the direct operational control of the American command. In Korea, the katusa (from “Korean Augmentation to the u.s. Army”) program has been in operation for almost two decades. In fact, the “Katusas”—Korean soldiers who formally occupy Table of Organization positions and live in American units—con¬ stitute one-sixth of the “American” Eighth Army. A somewhat different use of local troops has occurred in Vietnam. The Marine Corps has what is known as “combined action pla¬ toons,” that is, a squad of American Marines placed within a platoon of South Vietnamese Popular Forces. The Army’s 25th Infantry Division has a variation of the above called “combined lightning teams.” Whether the “integrated” model of Korea or the “fusion” pattern of Vietnam, the utilization of non- American forces under American command is a paramount indicator of a military force divergent from American society. Moreover, now that significant precedents have been set, we may find American forces being increasingly augmented by foreign nationals in future years.

The citizen-soldier. The troop strength of the American mili¬ tary consists of nonactive as well as active-duty forces. These nonactive forces in 1968 numbered about 2,300,000 federal reservists (under Pentagon administration) in the various military services, and some 500,000 men in National and Air Guard units (normally under state control in peacetime) .* As a general rule, nonactive military personnel attend weekly drill meetings and spend two weeks in training every summer. Dur¬ ing certain specified times of emergency—ranging from full- scale war to quelling local violence—reservists or Guardsmen

As of January, 1968, the strength of the various nonactive military components was: Army Reserve, 1,235,000; Navy Reserve, 470,000; Air Force Reserve, 415,000; Marine Corps Reserve, 145,000; Coast Guard Reserve, 30,000; National Guard (Army), 420,000; Air National Guard, 85,000.

176 The Emergent Military Establishment may be called into service. Practically speaking, however, only a few reserve or Guard units have been called upon for ex¬ tended active duty since the end of the Korean conflict. From a historical perspective, the concept of the citizen- soldier has been a central premise of this country’s military thinking. Nevertheless, since the late 1950s and especially since 1963, there has been a determined effort by the Defense Department to reduce the role of nonactive forces. The propor¬ tion of reserve and Guard servicemen of the total military force (i.e., both active and nonactive military personnel) declined from 61 per cent in 1957 to 45 per cent in 1964. As William Levantrosser points out in his comprehensive study on the sub¬ ject, the Chief Executive’s position toward reservists has changed from one of strong support during Truman’s time, to deemphasis under the Eisenhower Administration, to pressure for fewer but better trained reservists under Kennedy, to con¬ certed steps to curtail reserve forces under Johnson.5 In 1964, Secretary of Defense McNamara proposed to eliminate the federal reserves entirely by merging them with the National Guard. Although this plan was not carried out—owing to Con¬ gressional opposition—the Army Reserve was subsequently reduced from eight to five divisions, a reduction in strength of 55,000 men. In 1967, the National Guard itself was reorganized —over the resistance of state leaders—by reducing it from 23 to 8 divisions. The post-Vietnam period promises to witness further ero¬ sion of reserve and Guard support. For one thing, the declining role of reserve forces is somewhat conterminous with the long¬ term accretion of power by the Executive Branch at the ex¬ pense of Congress and state legislatures—the traditional cham¬ pions of reserve forces. Moreover, present experience with limited wars points to the strategic need for highly trained and readily operational combat units thereby undercutting much of the military justification for large reserve forces. Further, the public controversies centering around reservists called to ac¬ tive duty have not been favorable from the military standpoint. The complaints of many reservists activated during the Berlin crisis of 1961 and National Guardsmen called up in 1968 for

177 The American Enlisted Man

Vietnam approached a major scandal. A variety of considera¬ tions, then, indicate that the lessened importance of the reserve serviceman will be another factor contributing to the diver¬ gence of the military from civilian society. The impending eclipse of the citizen-soldier concept is sug¬ gested from another vantage point as well. It is relevant to compare the conclusions of two Presidential Commissions deal¬ ing with policies toward veterans.6 In 1956, the Commission on Veterans’ Pensions held that military service—whether in time of war or peace—is an obligation of citizenship and should not be considered inherently as a basis for future government benefits. In particular, the 1956 report held that the veteran qua veteran had no priorities for government assistance (as distinct from service-connected disabilities). Instead, it recom¬ mended the integration of veterans’ needs with social programs existing for the citizenry at large. In 1968, on the other hand, the Veterans Advisory Commission advocated a much more separate treatment of veterans. The 1968 Commission con¬ cluded that even nonservice-connected ailments of veterans should be the special province of the Veterans Administration. Unlike the situation of the veteran of old, it is now recom¬ mended that the ex-serviceman should have distinctive prereq¬ uisites in governmental assistance. From this perspective, it appears that the emerging institutional differentiation of the military will correspondingly carry over into the post-service lives of many servicemen. Indeed, the very category “veteran” may come more and more to designate not the single-term serviceman but rather the retired career serviceman.

Antimilitarism. It is fair to assert that the original opposition to the war in Vietnam began with this country’s intellectual and academic community. The antiwar movement has since come to encompass a diverse constituency including, variously, college students, some Establishment spokesmen, black mili¬ tants, eminent professionals, and suburban housewives. More¬ over, as the opposition to the specifics of the war increased, the very legitimacy of military service itself has been impugned. Intellectuals and student radicals, in particular, have vocifer-

178 The Emergent Military Establishment ously turned upon the military on a number of fronts. Illustra¬ tive of this passion are the harassment of military recruiters on campuses, the efforts to remove the ROTC from the college curriculum, and the frontal challenge of the ties between major universities and military research. More broadly, the entire framework of America’s military policies have come under critical scrutiny. It is my belief that the resurgence of antimilitarism among intellectuals and college students will not dissipate once the war in Vietnam is concluded—though the volume of the attack will undoubtedly subside. Contrary to the views of many ob¬ servers, however, the emergent antimilitarism is not all that aberrant in the American context. Quite the opposite. The anomaly lies in the unquestioned acceptance of the military’s role which started in World War II and continued through the early 1960s. What should not be forgotten is that the United States has normally looked upon its military with some dis¬ favor. In this sense, our society appears to be moving toward its more conventional social definition of the military. This is to suggest that the antimilitarism engendered by the war in Vietnam may be returning this country to its traditional low regard of the armed forces.7 Put another way, while intellec¬ tuals and radicals have been in the forefront of the antimilitary movement, it is also more than possible that the quarter-cen¬ tury-old honeymoon between the American public and the mili¬ tary establishment is likewise coming to an end. Marcus Cunliffe, in his insightful study of American atti¬ tudes toward civil-military relations in our country’s early history, delineates three diverse normative standards: (1) the “Chevalier” or professional militarist; (2) the “Rifleman” or anti-professional militarist; and (3) the “Quaker” or anti¬ militarist.8 Applying Cunliffe’s typology to the convergent- divergent model of the armed forces and society, the Chevalier stands for a divergent military while the Rifleman represents a military infused with civilians in uniform. What is striking in much of the current mood is the confluence of two usually opposing schools of thought. Thus, we find the necessity of an all-volunteer and career military force being argued for by both

179 The American Enlisted Man the antimilitarists and the professional militarists; the former because of the repugnance of military service and their aliena¬ tion from America, the latter because of practical considera¬ tions and their desire to strengthen America militarily. Curiously enough, together the supporters and opponents of America’s armed might were both establishing a rationale for a military force highly differentiated from civilian society.

Armed Forces and American Society Over a quarter-century ago, Harold Lasswell first stated his theory of modern civil-military relations in the concept of the garrison state.9 Forecasting a particular form of social organi¬ zation, the garrison state would be characterized by the mili¬ tarization of the civil order as the military system became conterminous with the larger society. The subordination of societal goals to the preparations for war would lead to the obliteration of the distinction between civilians and military personnel. The convergence of the armed forces and American society which began in World War II and continued through the Cold War decades of the fifties and sixties seemed in certain respects to confirm the emergence of the garrison state. But the prospects for the 1970s require a reformulation of the gar¬ rison-state concept. For we are entering a time in which the armed forces are becoming more distinct and segmented from civilian society. In the enlisted component, the bases of military recruit¬ ment are shifting away from conscription and toward ascrip¬ tion, from being somewhat representative of American youth to excessively reliant upon young men coming from our so¬ ciety’s depressed levels. The move toward a nonconscripted military force will effectively end any equitable sharing of en¬ listed participation on the part of America’s middle classes and college-educated youth. Indeed, much like the “civic action” theories applied by American strategists to underdeveloped countries—the use of the military for purposes of social engi¬ neering—the military is now being charged with an analogous role regarding America’s underclasses. At elite levels, the divergence of armed forces and society

180 The Emergent Military Establishment

will be reflected in closer and more critical scrutiny of the mili¬ tary’s budgetary and force demands. But it is highly improba¬ ble that this new skepticism will result in any severe curtail¬ ment of the dominant role the military establishment has come to play in our country’s economic output. It is also unlikely that the United States will fundamentally alter what it con¬ siders to be its global politico-economic-military interests. In fact, the institution of an all-volunteer, fully professional mili¬ tary force may mean that overseas interventionist policies will engender fewer political repercussions at home. Witness to this proposition is the acceleration of opposition to the war in Viet¬ nam as the personal interests of middle-class youth became involved. The immediate future, then, points to a new phase in American civil-military relations. The character of the post- Vietnam period will be the conjunction of a military force divergent from civilian society coupled with the continuance— in its essentials—of America’s worldwide strategic policies. To rephrase Lasswell, it might be more accurate to speak of our society moving toward a split-level garrison state. This is to say that the imminent danger to a democratic society is not the specter of overt military control of national policy, but the more subtle one of a military segmented from the general citi¬ zenry, allowing for greater international irresponsibility by its civilian leaders. It is only when the consequences of such irre¬ sponsibility are uniformly felt throughout the body politic that some constraints develop on the use of violence to implement national policy. Another implication of the split-level garrison state will be in the sharpening contrast between the internal social or¬ ganization of the military and the institutional developments occurring in civilian society. Throughout the American nation of the late 1960s there was a movement toward greater control of institutional decisions by persons most affected by those decisions. There has been a shift—at least in style and probably in substance—toward a more participative or democratic model of social organization. Insensitive administrators, ob¬ solete structures, and encumbering procedures were being

181 The American Enlisted Man challenged in an unprecedented way. Police and welfare de¬ partments, schools and colleges, political parties and labor unions, churches and hospitals, were all subjected to the grow¬ ing norm of participation. What is important is that these in¬ stitutions were coming under attack from the inside. Even the military of the Vietnam period was beginning to feel such internal pressures. Small numbers of men in uniform —white radicals, black separatists, disgruntled enlisted men, antiwar officers—were starting to communicate their dissatis¬ factions to other servicemen as well as to groups in the larger society. It is not improbable that before this manuscript reaches print the military establishment will be confronted by a major outbreak of racial or antiwar dissension from within its own ranks. Unlike civilian institutions, however, the military has at its command the coercive power that can rigorously sup¬ press internal agitation. Moreover, efforts on the part of the military to “democratize” itself would probably be self-defeat¬ ing. Steps taken in the direction of more recognition of indi¬ vidual rights and less rigidity in social control would in all likelihood seriously disaffect career personnel while making military service only marginally more palatable to its resistant members. In any event, the probability of sustained internal agitation or even questioning of the military system is very unlikely once the war in Vietnam ends. With the advent of a curtailed draft or all-volunteer force, the military will find its member¬ ship much more acquiescent to established procedures and or¬ ganizational goals. Without broadly based civilian representa¬ tion, the leavening effect of recalcitrant servicemen—many serving under a form of duress—will be no more. It appears that while our civilian institutions are heading toward more participative definition and control, the post-Vietnam military will follow a more conventional and authoritarian social or¬ ganization. This partial reversion to traditional forms will be the paradoxical quality of the “new” military of the 1970s.

182 A Personal Statement

An objective effort to study the American enlisted man will unavoidably run against certain widely held and preconceived notions of military life. There is the view, characteristic of academicians and intellectuals, that regards military service as an especially dehumanizing experience. On the other hand, there is the chauvinistic current in much of American thought that sees the soldier—particularly in wartime—as a folk hero and military service as a kind of ennobling experience. Neither of these views is supported by the findings and in¬ terpretations given in this study. In fact, I anticipate that many of the conclusions that have been presented will upset antimilitary polemicists as well as apologists of the warfare state. Although I tried to steer a course between the Charybdis of romanticizing military life and the Scylla of portraying soldiers as brutes in uniform, it is only proper that I explicitly state my personal views on military life and the armed forces. In 1956 I volunteered for the draft immediately after graduating from college. I served two years as an enlisted man, most of it with a combat engineer battalion in Germany. I traveled widely throughout Europe, enjoyed the comradeship of my fellow soldiers, and even took pride in my eventual duties as a noncommissioned officer in charge of training. A decade or so later, in the course of the field research for this study, I again spent extended periods with Army units. My field trips involved stays with Army units in Vietnam (1965 and 1967), Germany (1965 and 1967), Korea (1965), and the Dominican Republic (1966). Again I found I enjoyed the company of sol¬ diers and, excepting combat, the routines of military life. In plain language, I liked the Army while serving in it and I still do. But, it must be emphatically underscored, I am in total op¬ position to the national policies that generate American adven-

183 The American Enlisted Man turism overseas. From any standpoint—moral, physical, prag¬ matic, or symbolic—the American intervention in Vietnam is unconscionable and unjustifiable. It must be remembered, how¬ ever, that the grievous chain of events that led us into Vietnam arose out of a broader Cold War mentality that has been most forcefully articulated by civilian advisers and policy makers of so-called “liberal” persuasion. Rather than castigating the men in uniform, it is the civilian militarists stoking the fires of anti-Communism who ought to be our critical concern. It is with some sense of despair that I observe the com¬ pletely justified hostility toward the war in Vietnam focus into a concerted attack on the armed forces per se. At the least, the concerned citizen—whether social scientist or not—must al¬ ways keep in mind the profound distinction between actions of individuals arising out of placement in particular situations and the structural and historical determinants which result in the creation of such situations. It is only in this way that the insights of the sociological imagination can be brought into being. This is to argue that the blanket hostility toward mili¬ tary life so endemic among most of my colleagues and students actually misdirects attention away from the causes underlying our country’s adventuristic policies. The war in Vietnam is just the latest intervention of the United States against social revolution. Our national interests have been so defined as to cause our intervention against social revolutions in Guatemala, Iran, Cuba, the Dominican Republic, as well as Vietnam. One ought critically to appraise the social system which brings forth this counterrevolutionary concep¬ tion of national interest, rather than falling into a short¬ sighted attack on the “Pentagon” and “militarism.” In approaching this study of the military’s rank and file, then, I find myself in a peculiar position. While in accord with most of the institutional features of the military organization, I view with unmitigated alarm the course of our country’s politico-military policies. While empathizing with enlisted men, I am distraught by the uses to which they are put. My ambi¬ guity is resolved by the belief that if our society is ever to ful¬ fill its democratic promise, the relationships between its civilian A Personal Statement and military structures require especially informed and sus¬ tained attention. This will not be accomplished by scapegoating the military—whether for reasons of moral outrage or pur¬ poses of tactical expediency. Indeed, in many ways our Ameri¬ can nation has a much better military than it deserves. Finally, I must add that studying the American military is far easier than most social researchers assume. All the data presented in this volume are either a matter of public record, or survey findings routinely available to social scientists, or based on participant observations made possible as a press cor¬ respondent. There was no need for access to classified material, thus eliminating any requirement for security clearances. At no time and in no way was I ever subjected to official discour¬ agement or constraint in the collection of the information re¬ quired for the preparation of this study.

Evanston, Illinois August, 1969

185

Appendices APPENDIX 1. MILITARY PAY GRADES AND RANK TITLES (OFFICERS) • o ts p Qh © £ © © S-s a CO © ?> ^5 8 s- e Army Air Force < P • H rH o O £ Sh 1 General General General O r-H O • rH 4-3 4-3 • rH > "p O -+43 3 4-3 o C5 Q) B o Sh P 5h P P P 5-i p p p Sh P Sh be P p P P o o» £ B c o o P P P P Sh Sh P i u .£ +-> p o ft b B I Colonel Colonel Colonel O O 'o JD ,_, 'p •rH 4-3 n • rH 4-3 4-3 R P O u 'o -H 3 43 lf5 o o P o P P P P P P P p P P P P P P P P P Sh o £ P P o P P P P P P P 1 Q P 4-3 +H o p P P Sh o £ P d P p P P p p p i Major Major Major 4-3 ■+j o CO p p p P P p 1 Captain Captain Captain £ -M +2 fe • rH J 4-3 4-3 4-3 o P 43 p J • rH 44 4-3 J • rH Er B 0) Sh o cu p rH m B B B Ul Sh 1

0-1 Second Lieutenant Ensign Second Lieutenant Second Lieutenant APPENDIX 1 (CONTINUED) . MILITARY PAY GRADES AND RANK TITLES (ENLISTED MEN) Oh C5 S3 o fa o to fa 8 Si 3 e <£> c- g fa >5 O 03 s> a e s Si CO o £ CO O CO fa to Ci S CL *3 O 56 3 O to -3 a; '3 Sh 3 D w g 3< c a; 3 be d 3 3 * I—5 3 3 - o 3 m d 3 CD a) bo 3 tn I d 3 & * cd a;a) .. %3 cj O Sh 1 o L_| w d O CD 3 in ^ 3 3 3 D 3 >i fa 00 § fa In "m «2 £ CO CL '6 £ O £ ° 3 5h co •3 t« 3 ^ 3 S fa co & a) U) 5-7 ^ 3 he ctf cu c 3 -g d o 3 a> I _ K^i c a> 3 s 3 CC a; 3 3 cn d 3 a; 3 bO 3 o 56 m 3 3 5-1 tn d 3 bo a) 3 fa Cl co CO m .3 l ■I * fH "a -4-P O X 5£ 3l D P-i 3 3 CO 3 O 3 o to o 3 (D 3 bo (D 3 3 ft (D m • -3 CD o CD fa 3 tn I D 3 0) 3 be D 3 3 3 3 3 a) 5h K*i D 3 bo 0) 3 3 fa 3 D 5h bo D 3 3 tn 3 cn tn Appendix 1 189 fa cr> to 53 to -3 CO .6 co CL O 3 56 -3 H co -3 be •3 3 to 3 53 CO D 3 3 be D 3 3 ft D o D fa O D 3 D CD « 3 3 a) O 3 3 I 3 D 3 be D 3 3 fa -3 cn 3 cn cn fa lO CO 3 CO '6 ^3 .tn 3 lO fa N o ^ 3! cn -3 53 cn 3 ’T3 in 53 CO -3 D to 3 be D 3 3 ft D CD £ >5 fa CD D 3 3 D 3 be D 3 I 3 D 3 bo D 3 3 H O m '6 ^3 3 CL co O 3 56 g S ^ £ 6 CO fa O 3 ft O 3 3 ft D cn 3 D 3 D bo D 3 3 I O 3 ft O 3 3 fa CO PL| O fa-p <1 O fa _3 hL O c3 CD CO CQ CD ctf Oj 3 3 3 cn I 3 D 3 O O 3 ft O 3 3 cn 3 cn fa (M CL _> *3 3 CO <1 <5 CL O -m #5h 3 D 3 6 3 D 3 3 I ^ 3 3 3 -6 > C/2 C^ CQ a> m ft ft O D fa CL ’3 _> 3 CO fa CP _o CL *3 3 3 D D 3 6 3 3 D O 3 3 3 3 3 cn > 3 D APPENDIX 2. THE NORC MANPOWER SURVEY SAMPLE

Much of the tabular material presented in this study is derived from a secondary analysis of data collected by the National Opinion Research Center (NORC) of the University of Chicago. The NORC data was originally collected in 1964 during the course of the Military Manpower Policy Study, a part of a large-scale review of selective service policies ordered by President Lyndon B. Johnson. A distinctive feature of the Manpower Study was the col¬ laborative relationships between NORC and five survey agencies of the federal government: the Demographic Surveys Division of the Bureau of the Census, and the military survey organiza¬ tions of the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps. Al¬ though the task of planning the study and collating the data was performed by members of the NORC staff, the actual col¬ lection of the data was carried out by the five federal survey organizations. Over a hundred separate items were included on the questionnaires, covering the topics of personal back¬ ground information, military occupation and training, occupa¬ tional values, future career plans, and attitudes toward mili¬ tary service and the draft. The 1964 NORC data is based on two populations: active duty military personnel, and civilian men, 16-34 years of age. Within these populations, ten samples were constructed : offi¬ cers on active duty in each of the four services; enlisted men on active duty in each of the four services; civilians who were veterans of military service; and civilians with no military service. The military personnel surveys were based on a 10 per cent sample of all officers, and a 5 per cent sample of all en¬ listed men. The civilian samples were drawn by the Bureau of

190 Appendix 2

the Census in line with standard procedures. The total number of questionnaires distributed and completed for each of the ten samples is summarized below:

Questionnaires Questionnaires Response Distributed Completed Rate

Army Officers 10,250 7,232 70.5% Army Enlisted Men 42,650 28,239 66.2 Navy Officers 6,871 4,565 66.4 Navy Enlisted Men 27,049 17,842 66.0 Air Force Officers 11,941 9,650 80.8 Air Force Enlisted Men 31,629 28,442 89.9 Marine Corps Officers 1,980 1,230 62.1 Marine Corps Enlisted Men 6,295 5,082 80.8 Veterans 3,568 3,045 85.3 Non-Veterans 8,107 6,548 80.8

A detailed discussion of the methodological procedures used in the collection of the data is found in Ramon J. Rivera, “Sam¬ pling Procedures on the Military Manpower Surveys,” Mili¬ tary Manpower Survey Working Paper No. 3, NORC, University of Chicago, September, 1965, mimeographed. Also relevant are James A. Davis, “Some Preliminary Findings from the Mili¬ tary Manpower Surveys,” Military Manpower Survey Working Paper No. 1, NORC, University of Chicago, July, 1965, mimeo¬ graphed ; and Albert D. Klassen, Jr., Military Service in Ameri¬ can Life Since World War II: An Overview, Report No. 117 (Chicago: NORC, University of Chicago, September, 1966). The 1964 Military Manpower survey data collected by NORC were generously made available to the Inter-University Semi¬ nar on Armed Forces and Society by Peter H. Rossi. I am especially indebted to Albert D. Klassen, Jr., for his technical competence in preparing the NORC tabulations and for his help in making sense out of the data presented in this volume.

191

Tables Table 2.1

CO Ph o O CO CO rH CD o •£ p 00 CO 00 © e (M © o rH

fa u t-H > Pi w CQ CO CO w P o t-H © 05 O k \6 CO rH © p w *h pi c H HH 05 Cvl 05 o P Pi P © rH P © e rH CO U5 o co fa 1-1 c© O xn o Z HH Ph p o m Pi u o O 05 p CO o PO W H CO 05 '—' s—' G) H P P G m CD -t-> +-> V. xn m S S 'rH ,r~] e COPh h g "P

19 U TABLE 2.2. FATHER’S OCCUPATION OF OFFICERS AND ENLISTED MEN, BY SERVICE o fe, o ■«4 fe. £ 44) 60 S 60 o 8 8 60 60 60 S a 8 o s 60 60 § 8 ? S) O o £ O 'o oi cot>moo 60 oih U0 COM ^ Sh G 0) G go o rH f- 1—1 Co © S o EH rH © q © ' o O 4-> O c3 Table Z.2 o ? 195 a Sh o X G © H 4—1 £ o> cn 0) £ G ho d ojcoi—5 £ 2 4J l—l HOrH t> ®j4—!©° © ooq th i—i©q. 0) o o l m G m G o> Sh G O id ©^ o OJ 00 ©^ o o 00 ? p< Ph o ctf X

Source: 1961 N0RC survey. No male head in household at age 15. TABLE 2.3. EDUCATIONAL LEVELS OF MILITARY PERSONNEL, 1952-1965 "8 •2 "e G) ■"1 ■H >1 <35 <35 lo Oi 50 s <0 u 8 S> O 'S a?cd G3 O-o? OG 3 id G o o 03 m lOM g °o w g;g g CD CD Nffi© ai cocdo t> tHO C\i 00© DO (D00COO ® 8 be -h Sh 03 aj be (OCOo K ^Eh GD DG rH ■G O 03 3 03 o bC 03-G CD o bo be Sh X a3 3 X G O CD -h DG rG 3 H © t> © a) o 03 IS o3 G © © O o tH Table 2.3 w § 038 3 5 cw . 3o 03 03 G T3 0) cd 00 00 13505O -G n doio H NdDOo 105 ©CD03 H lOCDh6 i—1 cdoo-do to Tt;NHO be r-H G 03 G 3 o3 03 03 05 rH U5COO i—( U5(MO CO H<03© rH UOO]© ffi hdEh -g> G 03 G 03 o G3 lO Tji cd 00 t> iO id evi CD 00 © ■rH IC¬ o 03 be 03 G G

Source: Department of Defense, Selected Manpower Statistics, 1968, 37. TABLE 2.4. ANNUAL BASIC PAY AND TOTAL COMPENSATION FOR MILITARY PERSONNEL IN SELECTED GRADES (1968) ft ft 83 ft ft ■jf 8 ft g 8 8 o ^s • so 8 8 ft © © © £ CO e g © £ o fl o toH o (MMin a oo CD t cS I _ ft O 3 ^(N •'—s 4-3'—- 4 *g8.£ t> of co ast- O 00 co inoo of CDTfCO cq co^ w uiQ* it ”a^ TjH T—I(M (MONO s 05 bOCh O 'ft ft I ft ft s .§ SO »-o 83 4-^ •8 8 S 5>2 ^ C)O 7 »8 ft -g Q S go g S-s +3 S- o O 8g 8 s83 8 ft -° 8 g * c8 g 8 S3 83 g 8 ■+4 a, • O © ’42 g § ® g so 8 _ 8 SO C -g 6m . Oi 8 ? 8 >> 8 CO g s? ft © P © © V. © £ P g g © ft * 4— 4-. 83 -5 o to ® 8 g sc. 8 83 83 k© * so 8 * '"■O 8 CO SO -O 'g. ft 8 ft o g e P © Ph © © i Co $? © © © co e e £ © © co © © e

retirement accruals, federal tax savings, etc. Table 2.5

,-V ,-v ,—i. ,—s ,—., o eg 00 05 © © CO CO © 05 © © © CO eg 1"H CO ZO H of 00* ©“ eg* 2 CO rH CO s w w w

•*~o © © © © © ©

<£>

fa Sfa O CO fa; 00 00 05 eg £ o 16 oo [fa eg rH C0 w Q t“H eg eg uo S Q fa H HO m e H—I fa § 2 fa g Q o 2 CO < © © o U5 CO iq 00 CO tfa CO CO CO m eg eg CO PS CO CO CO fa o HH fa fa o fa 1 o S) fa fa fa t—I fa; fa; eg fa; 00 CO fa >faC >H •

rH LO rH CO 1 1 1 1 £ o o W o H H '—' x' '—- -—' CO co CO CO S> 02 o> Cl) > fas fas « EH to d c3 73 d d O a> £ < fa a Oh -fa a a CO fa fa Hj- ia § oo s .2 _o o Os eg 56 -2 fl fa o fa S fa &> d 02 ►"D d 03 '-s v CQ so -fa -fa fa O s <1 e O o Eh O E-h EH CO

198 Table 2.6

,—, t> 00 t- CM OP 10 00 1—1 «q op t-D co~ 00" 01 g

o o 0 0 S3 -+o o © 0 0 o o o 0 0 E*s T-p T—1 T"P T“P

£ CD D3 g CD H CD > £ W e D3 00 pd PD rH pj tD CO 16 CO C Co ^ (M CM 1—1 (M & O >—I H P3 < CD C_> • 'S P J40 £> !>; t~H Q e ■« © OP ^ o H 16 00 PD PD (M CO CO PQ aT p3 .CD -W O H * t>> Z so5*. O uq iq e rj5 © O rH J &H rH t-H T“P t—P o > Q W "§ H §s co O t—i ►J co U5 OP 00 00 2; CD 06 H CO (M CM p Pi H 0) Ss> 2: o pn w o 3 £> H -C 3 £ U o 'O Co t—I ce m 3 O > u £> rG Ph PS <3 o CD _be be OJ w -H> w e CD m JO H 3 **CD CQ m _be s PH < 0) 0 0 o H ^ 1 J s m H CO

199 TABLE 2.7. ESTIMATED MILITARY PARTICIPATION RATES AND MANNER OF SERVICE ENTRY, BY EDUCATIONAL LEVEL (MEN AGED 26-34, 1964) -8 53 ^ 1 ^ o L?" Sr. Eh CO o o £ o co ^ CO ^ e ^ 8s x "o <3 "8 O -2 O r-O CO -«S> tq Eh s 8 8 O HO 8s 8 o 8s 8 o o so o 3* e o 00 tH CM CO 05 tq sR uo CD CO CO CM o 'ft -h "2 w o> cm c- CM CD CO CO CM CD 05 CM rH rH CM 00 "ft CH Q -H 0) ei Table 2.7 uo lO CM CM T—1 uo CO o £ 200 Sh ft s CO ft 5h o bo O 0> 3 o O CO 00 00 00 t> CM CO rH CD © Ph 3 CO u 0) co o ft ft > CO CO 03 05 © CD t-H CM CO CM CD CO tH £ 0) CO ft Si o a 5h >s o S t-H o o o o © tH © o d o d © rH © rH o d H -H o ft

Source: Adapted and recomputed from Harold Wool, The Military Specialist, 1968,106 Table 2.8

8 s '■8 e s~ <3 «> TO8> Q '■'O CO W O © o O 10 ft <3 <» cd P H>0 O* O 03 W o « 10 CO H o oi ft H 0Q lO w £ o Q o cT £ -8TO C to Co to £ Ol to o o> p HH *c* lP CO U5 t> m H &0 « <3 e g O "p ° P O TOA pHi ft £ o 1 e*h CO 0) M -S£ M Co 00 iq P CO 53s o co 05 16 W ft 00 w H 8S < s 03 8 £ to S O e o tH ft to O ft £*s 10 t- ^ -8 1—1 i—1 +r s. Eh *3 1 03 Q p g < P Q e Oh O f-o * a> 8 >H CO 05 _c Hi 03 « _o H S C H ft o iH to 8> P 13 H S' 1—1 co +3 g (N ft 8 8 o (2 3 Q £ "ft ft W W ft ftS s § H g o a> <3 C- ft eft Os e8 W IS . • a P -p IS Eh o ft CO ~p ft C£ W > HO 03 «H «H «^o H O O 00 CO £ e -P -p ft "8 (M o3 Si ft ft W O o a) a> § 8> o a P ft P ^ 05 HOTO p p aj <0 8 « <5 8 0 > EH O Ph Ah Co ft<

201 TABLE 2.9. TRENDS IN OCCUPATIONAL DISTRIBUTION OF ARMY ENLISTED PERSONNEL O 2 * >H »o ®0 03 £3 'S Eh .o £ CD £ o i> i—H t~HrH t> 00lO co cdid CO r-H rH tH rH © id s o GO O (D £5 4-> Table 2.9 £ Sh > lO co rH C\1 oq rH rH CO rH rf 03 "£H £2 i—H m as Sh £ O Sh rO o O s £ o Sh O D

Source: Adapted from Harold Wool, The Military Specialist, US. Table 2.10

CO S ►2 00 H CO 50 o as \o PC to CO io rH CO Gp lO of t- CO £ to ® 5h rH 5D t> CM e pc’ CO CM rH O CM CM rH CM

£ o ►—I H < co U D SSJ s CJ5 <0 /-S /—V /-V Q 04 CO 00 t> 00 £ CD 00 as pc < rH ia ia CO H to w CO OS 00 lO lO S- z ' SI pc cm id pc o £ CO CM rH Ph fc. CM § o o

CO in § <& < s—n. S H CD CO pc CO < O pc CD rH CO CO 05 O CO § CO rH rH ip pc' o CD £ ' W w w u CM t“H in © z rH OS id 00 pc CM rH CM zw z o m 00 w Ph Q H E-i m HH s> H aS s rp P S >-c o CO m T3 a o <£> p0 Ch os PO ?> be o <0 .be a> 2 o be p- O o so r-P m o w e a> 00 PI m pP p cs •P Sh pp m be £ S

203 Table 2.11

W CO ft W ft P3

o

w S S. s. PQ CP CO CO CO ID ft CO 00 O ft CO 00 Tf 0 00 10 CP 13 CO T“t CO t- o '—' w w z CD 0 Tf S tft O rH CP ID CO CO CO <5 Pi H

Pi < ft

CO ID O O t- Pi CO CD ID CO t> HH H CO ID CO CO CD t> Tf op" t“H co" ft CO H cc Z; w w w O S- z CO ID CO CD HH CD t> CD CD CD >1 o £ -cf if co ft W Z z o co EH Pi W § Ph S

H O P ft Q Ph g § HH> ft H £ m 2 c ft ft h d O rH > 0) . HH 0 O Hi CO P 0) w z <£> O fi P ft • *s PQ S> Ph c3 c3 H CQ < £ < § Source: 1964 NORC survey.

20 U TABLE 2.12. VETERANS’ EVALUATIONS OF THEIR MILITARY TRAINING FOR CIVILIAN EMPLOYMENT 05 in m 05 CO C £ Q * ‘ ■+i • HO • s> e e Oi S o o § e s s as O 3 © P CO t- CM rH CM O C m o> 05 c3 m o o o tH o © © o o o CO © 03 o o ft ft 5h o

Source: 1955 data from President’s Commission, Veterans’ Benefits, 1956; 91; 196U data from norc survey. TABLE 2.13. TRENDS IN GRADE DISTRIBUTION OF ARMY ENLISTED PERSONNEL, 1935-1967 *8 8 CM 05 1 1 1 1 t-H © T—1 CO W 00 00 1 1 1 Cl no CO © o i—i H 05 b- i CO in 00 00 cm 05 W r-i CO Table 2.13 I 206 <50 r—l CO 00 rH T—i rji 00 CO T—< CO CO no i CM rH in (M b* t- CO CM cm' CO Tt rH 05 w 1 T—1 tb 00 00 in CM © 05 CM © CM 05 H CO 1 rH rH CO T—i T-1 t> CM © no CM 05 00 CM in CM ■ t~H T—1 T—1 05 00 CO CO no CM CM 05 w rH 1

Source: 1935-1962 data from Kurt Lang in Morris Janowitz (ed.), The New Military 196U, 69; 1967 data from Department of Defense, Selected Manpower Statistics, 1968, 26. Table 2.11+

207 TABLE 2.15 ATTITUDES OF ARMY ENLISTED MEN TOWARD MILITARY LIFE, BY COMPONENT AND EDUCATION O Hi ►sj to *•4 ►a Eh 8 so © C=> o 5- Ss 3a © © 8* S d © © 8 O © o © O tf UO COU5rtf tR CO t> d cmo- d t?h tH Oi t>toId uj NlO00 M Nhiq o o © CO CM ^ oddo 05 lOCOt> aj w .. 0) M 05 is & ^ m X X a> m m m o O O W TO 1i a 'o o rO -M CO CO d (M w o r- a; O ^ o k® bo Sh a 3 a3 as CO CO 00 oi n iqNCDooooo CO rtf t- m d tH o dodo CU CO co CO X X ^ 70 co x ol 3 CM 06 cq CO CO CO C0 co 03 be w a O o ccS 2 os e X CM CO 10 t> CO CO CM o CO o o bi a ro J2 rH d CM 00 CM 00 o o be 0) as

Total—less than high school 20.0 33.8 46.2 100.0 (4,324) Total—high school graduate 19.7 31.1 49.2 100.0 (9,722) Total—some college 14.7 25.0 60.3 100.0 (3,871) TABLE 4.1. U.S. ARMED FORCES, BY LOCALE OF ASSIGNMENT, JANUARY, 1968 (ESTIMATED) p ’2 33 m -3 -3 -3 cvT T—I o_ o'" o o O H 00 NOOlO^Tf^cOHHHOO ooLoiooooioioirjijO 00. 0000o 00000000000 00000000000 0) 3 3 m 3 3 3 in > m 42 -3 3 C P £ 5 hrt 0 © -3 Q 1 a 3 s V .3 w COH o 101a °~ °„© 00000 00000 3 m w 3 H 3 a 3 § a 3 m 3 3 p 3 j 3 3 £ 3 d O 0) S3 33 o 22 _c 3 o3 03 £ POP O csa Eh 3: 33 iH 3 g 3 P £ ©% 3 3 3 3 o 3 2 3 Hj P 3 P a -H o3 P. 3 33 o a 33 3 3 3 3 3 c$ 3 a 3 a c m 3 03 Table b.l Eh 3 209 P O CO > 3 3m m P (72 P a -M *HH "S 3 2 33 m ■ < P P «3 ’o 3 be o £ 3 > 3 3 3 3 3 O a H O Eh 22 33 P ’2 m CO 10 o 33 -3 -3 -3 -3 tH CO

Turkey 15,000 North Africa 15,000 Table U-%

P < o

W P-. 03 < S Oh O 00 o Sfci OS °o CO H •HH CO <3© O Q £ 16 Q Z < Z ^-v H—H O Tt< CO T-1 h—( t- CM 00 00 H U0 OD ia 03 <

Z< Pi ^ S—S ^“v < 'a H 03 00 TP CO lO HH 03 lO r-H TP i-h P a oa CO PS 5h § s> be Pi W <£> _bc o> p < § PS o be z a o cm o X HH o c3 o o m PS c/2 o m ■+■> m a CD p < 03 m oa a m be s -4—> • r—1

210 TABLE 4.3. RELATIONSHIPS OF ARMY ENLISTED MEN WITH WOMEN IN JAPAN AND KOREA • <£> s o CO a h"S Vo 05 a a, a <3* o 5? £ 13 N—' O xn CL> X 3 o oo tR o £ ctf O i-H ZD o> be u m 2 03 't'. 0 S p a a 9, a o * s7 1955 survey conducted by Roger W. Little, 1955; 1965 Korea data from 5 per cent of Eighth xy. TABLE 4.4. CONTACTS OF LOCAL POPULATIONS WITH AMERICAN SERVICEMEN IN GERMANY, FRANCE, AND JAPAN, 1958 Table I/..U 212

Source: U.S. Information Agency, Research and Reference Service, WE-58 and FE-19,1959. TABLE 4.5. ATTITUDES TOWARD AMERICAN SERVICEMEN IN GERMANY, FRANCE, JAPAN, BY SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS, 1958 52 *8 rO • *40 • r-O • "8 o § £ o o o CD 8 r«0 CO O'¬ l o 'S CO 0 CO HO i CO ■0 8 £ fc. 0 s 0 W 0 *40 § *40 K 0 0 s 8 O 0 a £ S O 8 0 O O at Sh to IH tH £ Pj^ DO s a0k >5 .5 213 CO WlflCD © t—05CO a cc3 r—I rHCM 05 tHO c i—I r—HrHtH O O O NID 00 CM CO DOO05 N H O lOtH*0< N CdCDTf 05> tHi—IO H CO(MCD 5 j£ TJ Tj a a at S-i at ^ o £ at ai A .5 g be o CO £> t>2 1? rC CQ o "8 • rH Co CD o o g © v. O OS Oi £ SD ?5> U1 c$ CD o o3 £ c O CD > o

* Total of those expressing an opinion. TABLE 5.1. BLACKS IN THE ARMED FORCES AS A PERCENTAGE OF TOTAL PERSONNEL, BY SELECTED YEARS fc, fc. O En © S* O g Si e o £ o s> >5 © O C£> S a CO 8 5- © o * W3 TfcoM5 © Olt>OJ Tji tj!t> CO 05 05 00 00 CD © us CO CD Tt< us 1—H 05 US t- tH U5t> 05 CCS© Tji 05 r-H 05 Table 5.1 CO 2U 1—i US 05 CO t> 05 oo 03 00 05 03 1C 05 CD

Source: Defense Department statistics. * 19U5 Air Force figures refer to Army Air Corps. TABLE 5.2. BLACKS AS PERCENTAGE OF TOTAL PERSONNEL BY GRADE AND SERVICE (DECEMBER 31, 1967) * -a £ fe. o 8 © v. ?> Si © © © s © a to 8 S- © O 56 T3 o t> PU3^CO(MH 75 »o ^CO|(M* « NHC-TflOt> NCO(Dl>Ht>OJCO o o> 5h 02 P ft P P a> r- < H COio^ h MlOTf(flt> o O o P a> P Oi-H CO Table 5.2 215 w 75 -m O200SP«3t|IC0(MH^ ,—„ .02 Tf acoffld6 O) U3ffiffl®CO HNM®P^C0Tjiu5'8 WCOOiM'Cf^OOlOt'C' C003C5l>oqcD0300HCO H-co^i>c6Na)doi6 oohioo-^iomoo^^ i-HC'jL(5rHO06c303C'jo 02 02 a; p co G bo c o c-i irLP 6 3 P 5h I -1o . CO m o bo ti 02 co oo ' “s.> . Sfcibeo ^ c.2 bo grG w §>.6. CZ m 4-3 co co o -M > P P

Source: Defense Department statistics. Army titles given in parentheses have equivalent pay grades in other services. TABLE 5.3. WHITE AND BLACK ARMY ENLISTED PERSONNEL IN COMBAT ARMS, BY SELECTED YEARS So Oi * O S> 8 s rX 0 be CD CD Ph CD Ph O c xn ctf m ccS 0 rH cvi 1—1 tH cvi CVI 120 © -P -P 0 0) a 02 0 c 02 P O r—< -P -p Pp -P 05 P 02 0 s a 02 O c3 t>0 02 O Pi o3 Pi 0 0) 02 K5 Cvl CO Table 5.3 CVI CO 0 ID rO 4-> • rH PS cn cS Ph c c3 0 ph £ P 0 216 • rH !—H <4H 4-> •p Ph o> O c3 £ b. O 0) c3 be 0 o> p CD Ph 00 CVI ci CVI H 05 CV] CO •+n #P Xfl c$ PH P a ccS O P P O a> 0 PS P a) Ph Xfl Ph r-H Jvj 3 rS f—H «H -P pn -P Ph O o3 O 02 O o3 bo fl 02 P O 02 CO CO CVI CO CO (M 4^> .s P—H Xfl P C c3 Ph c3 0 £ 0 CD PS Ph 02 0 p Ph 0)

Source: Defense Department statistics.

* Excludes Army Air Corps. TABLE 5.4. ARMY AND MARINE CORPS ENLISTED PERSONNEL (PAY GRADE E-4) IN COMBAT ARMS, BY AFQT LEVEL AND RACE (DECEMBER 31, 1965) o ■c^ s> $«. © £ © ** CO o •+o £ £ £ 8 © ?s> © ►4 as UO - < in 00 CO in fa & T—1 to CO Tfa TP in as OS £ £ -fa as - in T-H tfa rfa as CD - fa T—1 CV] <05 as Table 5.U £ £ -fa rH CO no - CV1 to as 00 (M as - oo~ CO 00 CD 217 M -fa - Cvl d rH r—1 o as uo - d •d d tfa a) M -fa Cvl 00 lO - - ,—, id o tfa tfa uo rfa T3 CO d tfa - rH d CV] CO - oT m in of O a> cS c £ -fa — Ol to Ol 00 CO to U5 - tH CD cr> Cvl cvi as r—i 0) m -fa co - id rH in 00 t- to I—i rH o d in - a o TS * H -fa Is O w Cvl d Tfa rH ,_, o of o lO to CO 00 rH rfa I £ d -fa rH 00 - CO 00 d 00 T-i to ,_s as 00 CO to tfa os'" tfa Tfa as s -fa CO — rH CO rH •d rH rH 00 CO uo 00 in CO CVJ o

Source: Defense Department statistics. Pay grade E-4 with under four years of military service. TABLE 5.5 BLACKS AS PERCENTAGE OF MEN ASSIGNED TO SOUTHEAST ASIA* AND KILLED IN ACTION, FOR EACH SERVICE (1961-JUNE, 1968) ’--o SO O 8 O •5 a •<>> H3 Oh 5a & <£> *- © • 5 < m -M r* m m m ci 3 CD O GO a o CD 00lOOt> rH i-Ht-Ht—|t—I o oi6cd(>ico 00 COo © (NrH CO »ow © o xri HoiN ■to -T—Htr—OlOCOrH rH (M oj h6wco 05 co 50 05 rH t> Table 5.5 t- 00lOffl®M 218 rH 00 rH 05 co H-S 3 fl 3 s 3 3 a 1 < _o TO 3 o a> £ in NlOl> rH LCt)CVl 50 <50 rH 05 rH 50 rH 05 | 00 1—I oi H 50 rH 05 CD 00 t-H CTi 0) £ 5h 3 1 •s CD 00 Oi t-H '“S 50 rH 05 rH 3 3

Source: Defense Department statistics. * Vietnam, Thailand, and offshore ships. TABLE 5.6. SERVICE ENTRY REASONS OF ENLISTED VOLUNTEERS, BY EDUCATION AND RACE to O *40 Os *+o Ho e <» o K CO s ?> e £ o o e S £ H XI -h> xi rC bo m o o be a a H x O) 219 £ 3 -H> '—' CM tH 00 d tH CO rH CO io d ID CM rH CO rH o d © CM d tH t- 0> PQ 00 CM 00 CD s—' CM ID ID CO 00 o d © cm" Hh Ht< O rH a o m JV a» o o o 0) bo £ 3 H CM IH ID d td ih t- CM rH CD rH 05 tH o d © tH Hf tH

Source: 196b NORC survey. TABLE 5.7. FIRST-TERM REENLISTMENT RATES IN THE ARMED SERVICES, BY RACE, 1964-1967 O • £ a CO e *>. <£> O o ?> >5 e e <0 <£) r—i CO ID cm id CO T—I cd CO rH CM CM CM © CO lO CO 00 CO rH ^ & PQ PQ Co © CO U0 1C rH od © © rH CM cd o 0) rH CO © ■d CM ID id HO a o io rH CO co id E~ CO co rH rH «d rH 00 CM £ IS CM id CO HO CM CM CO rH s o ci

Source: Defense Department Statistics. TABLE 5.8. ENLISTED PERSONNEL NOT LIKING MILITARY LIFE, BY RACE AND SELECTED GROUPINGS O vo •ts> £ s so e Os S) o o m • I—I 05 5-i o 0) > '—' CO> r—s 50 T—1 w rH 50" 16 Ol of i-H > . O 5-i £ 1C 00 CO '—' CO ft ,. < '-' ✓“s. '—" 50 t-H rH T—1 CO Ol o T—1 CO CO of ft S-i O 05 O '—' w 50 co" CO co 50 CO co o O CO (N Ol a3 P. CQ 5-i 05 o H rO -M "05 -H> H-> o S tn c3 >—1 G 03 c3 >> 05 O o c3 O C s ' rG 2 rC X '—' rH r-v Ol oo’ 50 00 X-V oi 00 oo" CO T—1 ^ cS G be m C5 O o W co w £5 ° rG 2 T—1 CO ^-v +-> CO Ol Ol o oi t> CO of ft 00 50 o O o c3 D cj be £ m o o be 05 Table 5.8 x—n '—' 50 w 221 ft CO ft" CO O) CO 00 ft ft 00 50 05 be CD .S ts .2 5h >. r°~. 0) c G | 05 £ CD £ c3 o o o D P, ctf G w 50 ''—' ft Ol CO CO rH l> ft co" 1—1 w ✓—V '-H ft o CO 50 CO 50 50 CO -G ’£ .05 50 ft CO cq oi o c3 ^ w CO ^^ CO 50 CO 50 ,—v t- 50 Ol < "05 ~4—* P 50 t-H of ft CQ c3 > £ G Sh 05 ''—-■ t-H /-—V w oa CO CO o CO ft o m *> .2 50 oi 50 'cf oa 0) CD "G TO rft -|H X/l £ 05 g >> ft G 5h c3 05 G 05 c 05 r*> be H ft O] CO ft ft 50 t> rH 50 ft -rH H Ol of w Ol 1 1 s s""' /-s 00 CO 00 ft T—t t—( ft o co oi cq rH W w CO Tf< 1 1 1 ^ CO w ^^ 00 Ol t—H t- ft c- Ol 50 50 CO H 50 W CO 1 1 1 CO w s—^ ■rH ft oo rH oi Oi rH w L" W co 1 1

Source: 196U norc Survey. TABLE 5.9. ATTITUDES OF WHITE AND BLACK SOLDIERS TOWARD RACIAL INTEGRATION IN THE SEGREGATED T—I 05 HO t“H 05 T}H CO < £ o § < 05 CO CQ '<>> Co 2 • so CO e cd o CO o *53 * <>5 E"*H so § a s» o Oi Oi *o> >*s oo Go so so s £ CD C* C* O ^ CO 03o HO 3 ctf CD o3 > o Table 5.9 222 co 5B -1-3 *0 • f-H i—i fH g ■ 05 o Tf 00 O m 05 ft o ft rH o o tH o o o o H c3 o CO 00 CO CO 05 CO 00 o o

Source: 19U3 data from Stouffer et al., The American Soldier, I, 568; 1951 data from oro, Project Clear, 1955, 322, U33. Table 5.10

£ <5 I-H HH HH> u Q < >H 05 <5

>h H »—i J *5 P S 00 o O’ o 05 o CO W 0Q

< l—( o s <5 o 05 &! «> O 05 Z t-H 05 s- lO CD 05 O CD o <5 t> O CO Oh £ § O o lO co 05

CO CO O 02 o 00 O CD 05 Eh W ►—i S z o 2 m o

M « 05 o <5 W J § 03 o On W O >H M 03 w Q Q 1= £ Eh l-H Eh «5 Eh <5 B 02 <5 Eh O 05 CO a) O 55 Eh «H a) Eh hEs 02 lO w Eh 55 Oh 3 -S3 £ w 03 2 1-5 S § 'B a3 03 V o -o> S & o Eh 2: t3 6 H

223 TABLE 5.11. RACIAL ATTITUDES OF WHITE SOLDIERS IN SEGREGATED AND INTEGRATED MILITARY no cn m Z o H H ►—I m W b s a s «> s £ £ C£ CO 'H o S pi 5h ci P O Table 5.11 4-> #g w c3 CD 5h CD bfl CD bQ m m c3 0) cj o O CO no C5 no r-Q 4^> 22 U CD 0) m o 3 P5 £ • S1—5 .t/2 ^ 4-> ._* w 0) P P ^ C Y>~i « ° O ^ ^ CO O) $H 5h o m P S c/} Q |4-^ Pi r-Q be o CO CO 00 T““< tH 0-1 t" 00 co 00 CTJ 'Cf ’~p .2 -IJ o p Sh P 0) b£ cs o O Sh 2, e= •F5 ,p o g a> in m O 9 2 be 5 c p 5h oS CQ 5h M OJ O Sh £

Source: 0R0, Project Clear, 1^1, 322,333, 356. Table 5.12

ui

Q W GO < Mi 2 < § ci H o < 2 I—I CO « W HH Q hJ O Tfl w o <5 CQ Q 2 -i io g fa 0$ P C ffl < Eh

225 Table 6.1

® N H H CD N © ^ o T—I 03 03

K*}

a w 0) o •rH > Ph 5 © • rH >> Ph 2 ?H HH P HH Q 03 H S3 w 03 0) HH £ 03 O S3 W s • rH HH jft >> > > o Ph Ph m 03 CO ID (CD 03 03 > 2 W 'ft rS O CO 4—> H o Ph h3 W B h H W s o 1 a> a> Z o «H rS 03 • r-H H a> O GO 1 -4—' <+H Ph 03 • rH 'bo Ph H O h* H O co S3 Ph bo <3 P3 ’& riP 03 £_l 15 S3 OS aS 03 #-4-> > B B O B w « r—I S3 Ph P CO § ft3 Ph Ph CO CO CO I—I • rH ffl £ ft **H Q S3 > cO c3 aS hP • rH O o PS CO H C PP s o O 1-H CO o ffl t* H Ifl CO hH r—i O 00 03 03 rH 03 H S P3 <3

CO ft o co o HH H co Ph ft! S3 H aS o © O o HH <3 ’?h o aS Ph © ft3 S3 < o CO T3 K 03 cS o HH riP Ph • rH be bo (J rS3 03 <3 bo HH £ IS o aS O a> a S3 S3 o P o m to O aS riP m Cfl CO CG C0 o o CO 5h Ph 'rH ?H u Ph S3 ftP o s S3 HH CO c3 ft c3 aS c3 aS ft3 a> op o Ph HH -|_) ?H _o 03 CD CD © CD 03 CD 03 © CO riP CD K*i >i bd h HH CO be w IS IS a) is as 03 s 00 O o rH 03 £ O P ffi CO ft © o £ £ ft CQ bo oS "ft C W H << Ph

226 TABLE 6.2. ATTITUDES TOWARD PERSONAL AND U.S. ROLE IN VIETNAM GIVEN BY 34 COMBAT SOLDIERS -a -a a a >5 o s PP «+H Sh m QJ O S3 cS a § cn O 5h 3 e O) (XI CO t> W)M^ c/2 PhH +i a;o Co 0) r< w •2 >> 4J .rH .2 a o ^-o a Sh^ I 2 5 ^3 oi ,5 S3 63 c bo P* U) ^ Sh CD a> -O m a m O S3 r- Table 6.2 227 -a -a .£ ^ •5 £ Si u a as Ol gi m -M O ’2 o a o 2 2 o m 2 0) |-J ^!h ^ 4ic .33 O ~ Os;; C/2 ^ ■+f > +-> cQ m 0) CO (XI K £ S3 rX 0> Q) c a O QJ 2 V 5h >i 2 * o 2 M <3 bo bo Sh QJ CQ M o S3 S m a Sh o xn

U.S. made mistake, but now committed

Population control H C5 Don’t know

Total CO Table 6.3

£ H « H Q HH -< PP 2 W > HH O

s to l-H 2 a § a

S HH 0 0 2 a a 0 § m g 2 0 0 0 HH a H 0 m >» Ph H m <0 a HH xn B Sh Ph s Sh dJ O 0 s B O H § § h7 HH < a 'Si * O Sh 'Sh Pi 73 73 a O a Ph 2 e SH B H -o a g a CO W d) B o ^ o HH coo .2 g o a o W 2 m .2 B lg B _ 2 HH d> d) d) 73 o> cd CQ a m o OT Oj -Sj 3 ^ X> O

228 Table 64

£ H HHW >

£ m 02 HHW Q J raO Eh < oa Ol Vl* CO (01 t~H rH rH

§ CO o u

CO

>H CQ

£ w > HH o < co o

w £ s s o •JH -+-J o > CO > 5h m fn "ft e T3 O Ph «h 02 #t> « f3 < pH ft o3 S c3 'ft ° c ft ft 02 CO a3 3 s ft o > fa 02 fa ft .2 s o3 ft 7:3 Oh o g "co Ptf cl Sh Cg •«—'i ci o '■p c2 CQ <3 « « 3 -+J CO e Sh ft ft ^3 o 3 ft 1—( W o .2 2 r—l > 'co cS bo 2 • r—H ctf ea 8 s ftj c3 o

229

Notes

Chapter One 1. Cited in Melvin L. De Fleur, “Occupational Roles as Portrayed on Television,” Public Opinion Quarterly, 28 (Spring, 1964), 58. 2. Malcolm Cowley, “War Novels: After Two Wars,” in his The Literary Situation (New York: The Viking Press, Inc. 1958), 23-42. See also Chester E. Eisinger, “The War Novel,” in his Fiction of the Forties (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963), 21-61. 3. Cowley, op. cit., 32. 4. A parallel set of observations is found in the American Journal of Sociology, 51 (March, 1946), a special issue devoted to “Human Behavior in Military Society.” This volume consists entirely of articles by social scientists who served in the military during World War II. Though encompassing an assorted range of experi¬ ences, the prevailing theme is one of widespread enlisted discontent within a rigidly feudal-bureaucratic institution. But the harsher aspects of the formal system are partially mitigated by the network of small groups and informal associations operating within a distinctive enlisted subculture. For related findings pertaining to World War II, see George C. Homans, “The Small Warship,” American Sociological Review, 11 (June, 1946), 294-300; Morroe Berger, “Law and Custom in the Army,” Social Forces, 25 (October, 1946), 82-87; and Felton D. Freeman, “The Army as a Social Structure,” Social Forces, 27 (October, 1948), 78-83. 5. See, for example, Robert K. Merton and Paul F. Lazarsfeld (eds.), Continuities in Social Research (New York: Free Press, 1950) ; Paul F. Lazarsfeld, “The American Soldier—An Expository Review,” Public Opinion Quarterly, 13 (Fall, 1949), 377-404; and Maurice R. Stein, “World War II and Military Communities,” in his The Eclipse of Community (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1960),175-198. 6. Hans Speier, “ 'The American Soldier’ and the Sociology of Military Organization,” in Merton and Lazarsfeld, op. cit., 116. 7. Samuel A. Stouffer et al., The American Soldier (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1949), I, 112. 8. S.L.A. Marshall, Men Against Fire (New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1964), 42-43. 9. J. Glenn Gray, The Warriors (New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1967),27.

231 Notes

10. Report of the Secretary of War’s Board on Officer-Enlisted Relation¬ ships (Doolittle Report) (Washington, D.C.: Infantry Journal Press, 1946), para. III-10. 11. Jere Peacock, To Drill and Die (New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1964),44. 12. William Crawford, Give Me Tomorrow (New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1966), 202-203. 13. Eugene Kinkead, In Every War But Oyie (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1959), 15—16. For similar Hollywood treatment of “brainwashed” American prisoners of war in Korea, see the movies The Rack (1956) and Time Limit (1957). 14. Albert D. Biderman, March to Calumny (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1963), 241. 15. Samuel P. Huntington, The Soldier and the State (New York: Vintage Books, Inc., 1964), 390. 16. Eugene S. Uyeki, “Draftee Behavior in the Cold-War Army,” Social Problems, 8 (Fall, 1960), 151-158; Charles Bidwell, “The Young Professional in the Army,” American Sociological Review, 26 (June, 1961), 360-372; and John Lofland, “Priority Inversion in an Army Reserve Company,” Berkeley Journal of Sociology, 9 (1964), 1-15. 17. William Styron, New York Review of Books, October 8, 1964, 3-4. 18. Carl Cohen, “The Military in a Democracy,” Centennial Review, 7 (Winter, 1963), 84, 85, 87. 19. William Goldman, Soldier in the Rain (New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1966), 55-56. 20. Survey data pertaining to public attitudes toward military life are listed and summarized in Normand A. Ste. Marie, “The Image of the USMA and the Military Profession,” Research Report 67-5, U.S. Military Academy, Office of Military Psychology and Leadership (mimeographed; October, 1967). 21. The New York Times, October 1, 1966, 36. 22. David Halberstam, One Very Hot Day (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1968), 65. 23. William Wilson, The LBJ Brigade (New York: Pyramid Books, Inc., 1966),68. 24. David Parks, G.I. Diary (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1968),131. 25. De Fleur, op. cit., 57-74. 26. Robert W. Hodge, Paul M. Siegal, and Peter H. Rossi, “Occupational Prestige in the United States, 1925-1963,” American Journal of Sociology, 70 (November, 1964), 286-302. 27. Roger W. Little, “Buddy Relations and Combat Role Performance,” in Morris Janowitz (ed.), The New Military (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1965), 194-224. 28. Uyeki, op. cit., 156.

232 Notes

29. A partial summary of these findings is given in Leon Rappoport and George Cvetkovieh, “Opinions on Vietnam: Some Findings from three Studies,” Proceedings, 76th Annual Convention, American Psychological Association, 1968, 381-382. See also the author’s mimeographed data abstract. 30. Ibid., 382.

Chapter Two

1. Walter Y. Oi, “The Costs and Implications of an All-Volunteer Force,” in Sol Tax (ed.), The Draft (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1967), 226-228. 2. Department of Defense, Modernizing Military Pay, Report of the First Quadrennial Review of Military Compensation (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1967), S-3. 3. Reported in The Neiv York Times, March 5, 1965, 15. 4. National Advisory Commission on Selective Service, In Pursuit of Equity: Who Serves When Not All Serve? (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1967). 5. Representative of the burgeoning “draft” literature are: Jean Carper, Bitter Greetings (New York: Grossman, 1967) ; Bruce Chapman, Wrong Man in Uniform (New York: Trident, 1967) ; Civilian Advisory Panel on Military Manpower Procurement, Report to the Committee on Armed Services, 89th Cong., 1st Sess. (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1967) ; James W. Davis, Jr. and Kenneth M. Dolbeare, Little Groups of Neighbors (Chicago: Markham, 1968) ; Albert D. Klassen, Jr., Military Service in American Life Since World War II: An Overview (Chicago: National Opinion Research Center, 1966) ; Roger W. Little (ed.), Selective Service in American Society (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1969) ; Harry A. Marmion, Selective Service (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1968) ; James C. Miller III (ed.), Why the Draft (Baltimore^ Md.: Penguin Books, Inc., 1968) ; National Advisory Commission, op. cit.; Tax, op. cit.; and George Walton, Let’s End the Draft Mess (New York: David McKay, 1967). 6. Students of military manpower sources are especially indebted to Harold Wool, The Military Specialist (Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins Press, 1968) ; Oi,- op. cit.; and Klassen, op. cit. 7. See, for example, Morris Janowitz, The Professional Soldier (New York: Free Press, 1960) ; Harold D. Lasswell, “The Garrison-State Hypothesis Today,” in Samuel P. Huntington (ed.), Changing Patterns of Military Politics (New York: Free Press, 1962), 51-70; Kurt Lang, “Technology and Career Management in the Military Establishment,” in Morris Janowitz (ed.), The New Military (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1964), 39-81; Charles H. Coates and

233 Notes

Roland J. Pellegrin, Military Sociology (University Park, Md.: Social Science Press, 1965) ; Albert D. Biderman and Laure M. Sharp, “The Convergence of Military and Civilian Occupation Structures Evidence from Studies of Military Retired Employment,” American Journal of Sociology, 73 (January, 1968), 381-399; and Wool, op. cit. 8. Ibid., 41-49. 9. Albert D. Biderman, “What is Military?” in Tax, op. cit., 132. 10. Loc. cit. 11. The reported findings of low transferability of military skills to civilian occupations refer essentially to the experience of veterans who had served only a single term in the military. For a full treat¬ ment of the post-service occupations of retired military personnel, see Biderman and Sharpe, op. cit. 12. Carl W. Borklund, Men of the Pentagon (New York: Frederick Praeger, 1966), 9.

Chapter Three

1. Ned Polsky, “Poolrooms: End of the Male Sanctuary,” Trans- Action (March, 1967), 32-40. 2. The handling of deviancy within the military setting is a complex question. Though the Uniform Code of Military Justice often operates with a heavy hand, the fact also remains that the military estab¬ lishment in certain respects has a much more lenient definition of personal deviancy than is usually the case in civilian life. Several examples can illustrate this point. Drunkenness and rowdiness— unless carried to great extreme—are usually ignored or handled by informal sanctions. Even when such behavior involves official punishment, it is most often meted out at the company level (no prison sentence and no permanent record) rather than by court- martial. One might assume that homosexuality would be a serious problem in the military. Yet, whatever the incidence of homo¬ sexuality—and I believe it to be fairly low—there are few homo¬ sexual incidents. The military neither deals with homosexual behavior in orientation lectures, nor publicizes known homosexual cases, nor does it engage in entrapment of homosexuals. The ques¬ tion of marijuana smoking—especially in Vietnam—has received much attention owing to the headline-making statements of ex- servicemen. It must be noted, however, that it was not the military authorities but self-professed marijuana smokers who publicized this kind of deviancy among soldiers. This is all to say that the armed forces as an institution often mitigates problems arising from personal deviancy by in effect not labeling and avoiding recognition of deviant behavior. For a fuller

2SU Notes

explication of this general line of reasoning, see Howard S. Becker, Outsiders (New York: Free Press, 1963) ; John I. Kitsuse, “Societal Reaction to Deviant Behavior,” in Howard S. Becker (ed.), The Other Side (New York: Free Press, 1964), 87-102; and Kai Erikson, Wayward Puritans (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1966). 3. Jere Peacock, To Drill and Die (New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1964), 124. Permission to quote this passage was generously given by Bantam Books, Inc., publishers. 4. James Jones, From Here to Eternity (New York: Signet Books 1953),52. 5. “Pay Study Shows Savings of Patrons at Stores,” Military Market (April, 1967), 25. 6. Ruth Lindquist Marriage and Family Life of Officers and Airmen in a Strategic Air Command Wing, Technical Report No. 5, Air Force Project (Chapel Hill: Institute for Research in Social Science, University of North Carolina, October, 1952). It should be brought to the reader’s attention that the pattern of instability described for

SAC families resembles in many respects the reported characteristics of lower-class families in the black ghetto, e.g., absent fathers, matriarchal families, extramarital philandering, etc. Cf. ibid., and Lee Rainwater and William L. Yancey (eds.), The Moynihan Report and the Politics of Controversy (Cambridge, Mass.: Massachusetts Institute of Technology Press, 1967), passim. But it should be recognized that the obvious parallels between the two groups inhere in situational similarities rather than any cultural correspondence. 7. Elise Boulding, “Family Adjustments to War Separation and Re¬ union,” The Annals of the American Academy, Symposium Issue on “Toward Family Stability” (November, 1950), 59-67. 8. It is relevant to note here the findings pertaining to the proposition that military life fosters authoritarian personality traits. That is, inasmuch as the military is a highly authoritarian setting, one would expect a strengthening of authoritarian attitudes as meas¬ ured by the so-called F scale, i.e., a predisposition to dominate others of lower status arbitrarily and simultaneously to submit to arbitrary higher authority. In fact, there is no empirical evidence whatsoever to support this proposition. Three separate studies of Army, Air Force, and Marine Corps recruits found no statistically significant increase in authoritarian traits over the period of basic training. See, respectively, Richard Christie, “Changes in Authoritarianism as Related to Situational Factors,” American Psychologist, 7 (July, 1952), 307-308; Elizabeth G. French and Raymond R. Ernest, “The Relation Between Authoritarianism and Acceptance of Military Ideology,” Journal of Personality, 24 (December, 1955), 181-191; and R. W. Firestone, “Social Conformity and Authoritarianism in the Marine Corps,” Dissertation Abstracts, 1959, abstoact 394, cited in

235 Notes

Kurt Lang, “Military Organizations,” in James C. March (ed.), Handbook of Organizations (Chicago: Rand McNally & Company, 1965),851. Another study explicitly sought to test the hypothesis over a longer time span. Attitudes of air cadets toward authority were measured at the beginning of their training and again over a year later. The results were a significant decrease in F scores. This finding was so surprising that the authors concluded their research design was inadequate. See Donald T. Campbell and Thelma H. McCormack, “Military Experience and Attitudes Toward Authority,” American Journal of Sociology, 52 (March, 1957), 482-490. Although the evidence on this important question is not con¬ clusive, the available data certainly runs contrary to the conventional view that military life generates authoritarian personality traits. 9. My characterization of the sources of resentment endemic among college-educated enlisted men is close to what W.G. Runciman— in his study of workers’ social attitudes in England—aptly called “egoistic deprivation,” i.e., a sense of individual deprivation because one is unable to move from the working to the middle class. By this he means a sense of deprivation based on personal status rather than an inherent resentment of the stratification system. Runciman con¬ trasts this with “fraternal deprivation,” i.e., a sense of collective deprivation for workers as a social category. See W.G. Runciman, Relative Deprivation and Social Justice (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1966). As has been-evident in my exposition, there is little fraternal feeling on the part of middle-class soldiers toward working-class enlisted men despite their mutual occupancy of a subordinate social position.

Chapter Four 1. The leading researcher in this area is Felix Moos, University of Kansas, whose work on boomtowns in Korea has greatly informed my own understanding of this feature of the overseas military community. 2. William Caudill, “American Soldiers in a Japanese Community” (unpublished manuscript). Data collected in 1955. 3. These foreign-national civilian employees are not to be confused with foreign-national military personnel who operate under the American command. The latter occurrence is most evident in Korea where Korean servicemen occupy formal Table of Organization positions in the American Eighth Army. See John W. McCrary, Human Factors in the Operation of U.S. Military Units Augmented with Indigeneous Troops, Professional Paper 48-67 (Washington,

236 Notes

D C.: Human Resources Research Office, The George Washington University, November, 1967). 4. Arthur Frommer, whose Europe on $5 a Day is one of the best-selling travel guidebooks of all time, started his book while serving as a draftee in Germany. 5. Yeoman work—theoretical and practical—to foster more favorable attitudes of Gls toward foreign societies has been done by Robert Humphries. See his Fight the Cold War (Washington, D.C.: Inter¬ national Research Institute of the American Institute for Research, n.d.). 6. An Eighth Army survey conducted in 1965 reported over 90 per cent of Koreans believed girls who went out with Americans were prostitutes. Similarly, a 1966 survey conducted by the Marine Corps in Vietnam found that 98 per cent of a Vietnamese sample regarded girls seen in the company of Americans as “bad.” Viet Nam Observer, February 13, 1967, 4. A recurrent theme in much of contemporary Korean popular literature is the plight of young girls abandoned by callous Ameri¬ can lovers. A recent bestseller was an autobiographical novel of a young girl, herself fathered by a Gi, whose life is a succession of tragedies eventually forcing her to follow her mother in the life of a Gi prostitute. See Annie Park with Kwak Hak Song, The Forsaken Star (Seoul: Wanji Publishing Co., 1965). Perhaps reflecting a different cultural ambience, the popular press in Vietnam plays up suicides of Vietnamese men whose wives have taken up with American servicemen. 7. Apparently Gi sexual behavior overseas has not changed all that much over two generations. The medical officer in charge of the venereal disease section of the American Expeditionary Force from 1918 to 1922, Colonel George Walker, concluded that about 71 per cent of all American soldiers in France had sex relations during their stay abroad. This estimate was based on prophylactic records and the results of a questionnaire. Cited in Dixon Wecter, When Johnny Comes Marching Home (Cambridge, Mass.: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1944), 332. 8. Reported in The New York Times, February 26, 1967, 7. 9. Roger Little, unpublished survey data collected from 1,303 American soldiers, Japan, 1955. 10. The 6,000-word pamphlet on Germany devotes only two sentences to Hitler and the Nazi era: “Adolf Hitler and his National Socialists came to power (1933) on promises they would repair Germany’s economic health and make the country a world power again. But Hitler’s expansionist policies led to World War II (1939-45), in which Germany was again defeated.” The word “Nazi” is not used

237 Notes

once in the pamphlet. See Orientation Germany, U.S. Army Europe, Troop Information Pamphlet. For some unknown reason the pamphlet on Italy—Orientation Italy—gives four full paragraphs to Mussolini and Fascism. 11. C.D.B. Bryan, P. S. Wilkinson (Greenwich, Conn.: Fawcett Crest Books, 1966), 81. 12. Hearings, Military Cold, War Education and Speech Review Policies, U.S. Senate Special Preparedness Subcommittee of the Committee on Armed Services, 87th Cong. 2nd sess. (Washington, D.C.: Govern¬ ment Printing Office, 1962), 1395. A vindictive account of the Overseas Weekly is given in Arch E. Roberts, Victory Denied (Chicago: Chas. Hallberg, 1966). Major Roberts instituted the “Pro-Blue” Troop Information program in the 24th Infantry Divi¬ sion which led to the eventual relief from command of General Walker. 13. Hearings, Military Cold War Education, op. cit., 1431.

Chapter Five

1. Materials covering racial matters in the military are quite extensive. A primary source are those United States government reports deal¬ ing with racial relations in the armed forces: President’s Committee on Equality of Treatment and Opportunity in the Armed Forces (“Fahy Committee”), Freedom, to Serve: Equality of Treatment and Opportunity in the Armed Forces (Washington, D.C.: Govern¬ ment Printing Office, 1950) ; U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, “The Negro in the Armed Forces, Civil Rights ’63 (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1963), 169-224; President’s Com¬ mittee on Equal Opportunity in the Armed Forces (“Gesell Commit¬ tee”), “Initial Report: Equality of Treatment and Opportunity for Negro Personnel Stationed within the United States” (mimeo¬ graphed; June, 1963), and “Final Report: Military Personnel Stationed Overseas and Membership and Participation in the Na¬ tional Guard” (mimeographed; November, 1964). An invaluable source of information pertaining to racial composition rates within the armed forces are the statistical breakdowns periodically issued by the office of Civil Rights and Industrial Relations (cr&ir) in the Department of Defense. Another source of data is found in Operations Research Office (oro) , Project Clear: The Utilization of Negro Manpower in the Army (Chevy Chase, Md.: Operations Research Office, Johns Hopkins University, April, 1955). The oro surveys queried several thousand servicemen during the Korean conflict on a variety of items relating to attitudes toward racial integration in the Army. The

238 Notes

findings of Project Clear, classified until 1965, are now available for professional scrutiny. A convenient summary of the Project Clear findings as well as an incisive account of how the survey was planned and carried out is found in Leo Bogart, Social Research and the Desegregation of the U.S. Army (Chicago: Markham Press, 1969). Some comparable World War II data were obtained from the section dealing with Negro soldiers in Samuel A. Stouffer et al., The American Soldier: Adjustment During Army Life (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1949), I, 486-599. Much of the information for the findings presented in this chapter are based on my participant observations while on active duty in the Army (1956-1958), and subsequent field trips as a re¬ searcher to various overseas military installations: Germany and Korea in 1965, the Dominican Republic in 1966; and Vietnam in 1965 and 1967. Additionally, 67 formal interviews with black soldiers in Germany were conducted in 1965. These interviews were with soldiers who made up almost all of the total black enlisted per¬ sonnel in two Army companies. 2. This background of the black serviceman’s role in the American military is derived, in addition to the sources cited above, from Seymour J. Schoenfeld, The Negro in the Armed Forces (Wash¬ ington, D.C.: Associated Publishers, 1945) ; Herbert Aptheker, Essays in the History of the Arnerican Negro (New York: Inter¬ national Publishers, 1945) ; Arnold M. Rose, “Army Policies Toward Negro Soldiers,” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 244 (March, 1946), 90-94; Paul C. Davis, “The Negro in the Armed Services,” Virginia Quarterly, 24 (Autumn, 1948), 499-520; David G. Mandelbaum, Soldiers Groups and Negro Groups (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1952) ; Lee Nichols, Breakthrough on the Color Front (New York: Random House, Inc., 1954) ; Eli Ginzburg, “The Negro Soldier,” in his The Negro Potential (New York: Columbia University Press, 1956), 61-91; Benjamin Quarles, The Negro in the Making of America (New York: Collier Books, 1964), passim; Ulysses Lee, The Employ¬ ment of Negro Troops, Special Studies on the United States Army in World War II by the Office of the Chief of Military History (Wash¬ ington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1966) ; and Richard J. Stillman, II, Integration of the Negro in the U.S. Armed Forces (New York: Frederick Praeger, 1968). 3. These evaluations are summarized in ORO, op. cit., 16-19, 47-105, 582-583. 4. The notoriety of the 24th Infantry Regiment was aggravated by a song, “The Bug-Out Boogie,” attributed to it: “When them Chinese mortars begin to thud/ The old Deuce-Four begin to bug/ When they

239 Notes

started falling ’round the CP [command post] tent/ Everybody wonder where the high brass went/ They were buggin’ out/ Just movin’ on.” 5. Bernard D. Karpinos, Supplement to Health of the Army (Wash¬ ington, D.C.: Office of the Surgeon General, Department of the Army, 1967), 14-15. 6. World War II evidence shows much of the incidence of psycho¬ neurotic breakdown among Negro soldiers, compared with Cau¬ casians, was associated with psychological handicaps originating before entrance into military service. Arnold M. Rose, “Psycho¬ neurotic Breakdown Among Negro Soldiers,” Phylon, 17 (1956), 61-73. 7. Stouffer et al., op. cit., II, 242-289; Raymond W. Mack, “The Prestige System of an Air Base,” American Sociological Review, 19 (June, 1954), 281-287; Morris Janowitz, The Professional Soldier (New York: Free Press, 1960), 31-36. 8. There are, as should be expected, differences among black soldiers as to their desire to see combat. From data not shown here, 1965 interviews with black soldiers stationed in Germany revealed re¬ luctance to go to Vietnam was greatest among those with high school or better education, and Northern home residence. This is in direct contrast with the findings reported in The American Soldier. In the segregated Army of World War II, Northern and more highly educated Negro soldiers were most likely to want to get into combat, an outcome of the onus of inferiority felt to accompany service in support units. Stouffer et al., op. cit., I, 523-524. 9. The emphasis on academic education for officer careers effectively limits most black opportunities to the enlisted levels. On this point, see Kurt Lang, “Technology and Career Management in the Military Establishment,” in Morris Janowitz (ed.), The New Military (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1964), 39-81. 10. Some have attributed the sharp drop in the 1967 reenlistment rate to servicemen seeking to avoid a second tour of duty in Vietnam. Although this factor undoubtedly explains some of the decline, the 1967 reenlistment data is suspect on other grounds. A substantial change in the mix of “first-term enlistees” and “inductees” (i.e., the greater number of draftees making up first-term servicemen) has made comparison of reenlistments for 1967 with earlier years ques¬ tionable. 11. Stouffer et al., op. cit., 566. 12. What methodological bias exists is that the Korean conflict question was a stronger description of racial integration than the item used in World War II. Compare, “What is your feeling about serving in a platoon containing both whites and colored soldiers, all working and training together, sleeping in the same barracks and eating in

zuo Notes

the same mess hall?” with “Do you think white and Negro soldiers should be in separate outfits or should they be together in the same outfits?” Respectively, ORO, op. cit., 453, and Stouffer et al., op. cit., 568. 13. Ibid., 594. 14. The comprehensive scope of military integration is found in the official guidelines set forth under “Equal Opportunity and Treat¬ ment of Military Personnel,” in Army Regulation 66-21, Air Force Regulation 35-78, and Secretary of the Navy Instruction 5350.6. 15. Cf. the Fahy committee report (1950) with the Gesell committee reports (1963 and 1964). 16. ORO, op. cit., 388. 17. James Anderson, “Father and Sons: An Evaluation of Military Racial Relations in Two Generations” (term paper, University of Michigan, December, 1965). 18. Stouffer and his associates, for example, report enlisted men as compared with officers, as Negro soldiers with white soldiers, were more prone to have “low spirits,” to be less desirous of entering combat, and to be more dissatisfied than perceived by others. Stouffer et al., op. cit., II, 345, and I, 392-394, 506, 521, 538. 19. A social-distance study conducted among Korean college students found the following placement, from near to far: Chinese, Europeans, and white Americans, Filipinos, Indians (from India), and black Americans. Personal communication, Man Gap Lee, Seoul National University. The less than favorable reception of black soldiers—compared with whites—in overseas locales is also illustrated in the Japanese film The Saga of Postwar Cruelty (1968), a portrayal of the Ameri¬ can occupation from 1945 to 1952. Made by one of Japan’s leading directors, Tetsuji Takechi, the film loses no time in making its point. Even before the titles are completed, a Japanese girl is seized, raped, and killed by a drunken black soldier. 20. These same data, in tables not shown here, reveal that there is an inverse correlation between formal education (as ascertained from battalion personnel records) and likelihood of learning German! This reflects the greater probability of black soldiers, compared with whites, to learn German while averaging fewer years of formal education. 21. William Caudill, “American Soldiers in a Japanese Community” (unpublished manuscript), 34. 22. Even in the Civil War there were black spokesmen who opposed black participation in the Union Army. Frederick Douglass attacked them as follows. “They tell you this is the ‘white man’s’ war; that you will be no ‘better off after than before the war’; that the getting of you into the army is to ‘sacrifice you on the first

21+1 Notes

opportunity.’ Believe them not; cowards themselves, they do not wish to have their cowardice shamed by your brave example. Leave them to their timidity, or to whatever motive may hold them back.” Quoted in Ronald Segal, The Race War (Bantam Books, Inc., 1967), 198-199. 23. Albert D. Biderman, March to Calumny (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1964), 60. 24. A copy of the entire pamphlet is reproduced in the Dominican news magazine Ahora, No. 108 (September 18, 1965). Although many whites were unaware of the pamphlet’s existence, virtually every black soldier I talked to in Santo Domingo said he had seen the pamphlet. The effectiveness of the pamphlet on black soldiers was minimal, among other reasons, because it asserted black equality existed in the Dominican Republic, a statement belied by brief observation of the Dominican scene. 25. Similarly in an interview with a black reporter, the commandant of “constitutionalist rebel” forces in Santo Domingo stated that to his dismay Negro American soldiers fought no differently than whites. Laurence Harvey, “Report from the Dominican Republic,” Realist (June, 1965), 18. 26. Robert F. Williams, Negroes with Guns (New York: Marzani and Munsell, 1962). 27. The Militant, November 22, 1965, 1.

Chapter Six

1. See especially Eugene Kinkead, In Every War But One (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1959) ; and the rebuttal by Albert D. Biderman, March to Calumny (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1963). 2. See, for example, Field Manual 22-100, Military Leadership (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1965) ; and Russell B. Reynolds, The Officer’s Guide (Harrisburg, Pa.: Stackpole Press, 1966), passim. 3. See, for example, Arthur J. Vidich and Maurice R. Stein, “The Dissolved Identity in Military Life,” in Maurice R. Stein et al. (eds.), Identity and Anxiety (New York: Free Press, 1960),493— 506; and Carl Cohen, “The Military in a Democracy,” Centennial Review, 7 (Winter, 1963), 75-94. 4. Thus two bestsellers on the American Special Forces in Vietnam are in central agreement on the socialization processes occurring among these troops, but have opposite conclusions as to the moral outcome. Cf. the romanticized view of Special Forces in Robin Moore, The Green Berets (New York, Avon Publications, Inc., 1965), with

2k2 Notes

the negative picture given in Donald Duncan, The New Legions (New York: Random House, Inc., 1967). 5. Samuel A. Stouffer et al., The American Soldier (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1949), II, 105-191; Edward A. Shils and Morris Janowitz, “Cohesion and Disintegration in the Wehrmacht in World War II,” Public Opinion Quarterly, 12 (Summer, 1948), 280-315; George C. Homans, “The Small Warship,” American Sociological Review, 11 (June, 1946), 294-300; Paul F. Lazarsfeld, “The American Soldier—An Expository Review,” Public Opinion Quarterly, 13 (Fall, 1949), 377-404; Edward A. Shils, “Primary Groups in the American Army,” in Robert K. Merton and Paul F. Lazarsfeld (eds.), Coyitinuities in Social Research : Studies in the Scope and Method of “The American Soldier" (New York: Free Press, 1950), 16-39; David G. Mandelbaum, Soldiers Groups and Negro Soldiers (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1952), 5-87; Norman A. Hilmar, “The Dynamics of Military Group Behavior,” in Charles H. Coates and Roland J. Pellegrin (eds.), Military Sociology (University Park, Md.: Social Science Press, 1965), 311-335; and Roy R. Grinker and John P. Spiegel, Men Under Stress (New York: McGraw-Hill, Inc., 1963), 443-460. It should be noted, however, that caveats were introduced in several of the World War II descriptions of primary-group deter¬ minants in combat motivation. Thus, Shils and Janowitz, op. cit., directed some attention toward the role of “secondary symbols” (e.g., respect for the Fiihrer) among German soldiers. Also, Shils’s discussion of The American Soldier, while generally stressing the importance of primary-group processes, nevertheless cautioned: “Yet it would be a mistake to say that the tacit patriotism of the soldiers played no significant part in disposing the men to accept¬ ance, obedience and initiative. The widespread character of their acceptance of the legitimacy of the war although in itself not a strong combat motivation must still be viewed as flowing both directly and indirectly into combat motivation.” Shils, op. cit., 24. 6. Among the better known of such accounts are: S.L.A. Marshall, Men Against Fire (New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1947) ; J. Glenn Gray, The Warriors (New York: Harcourt, Brace, & World, Inc., 1959) ; Bill Mauldin, Up Front (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1945) ; Norman Mailer, The Naked and the Dead (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1948) ; and James Jones, The Thin Red Line (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1962). 7. The New York Times, June 1, 1967, 15. 8. Ibid., July 13, 1967, 16. 9. C. Wright Mills, The Sociological Imagination (New York: Oxford

2U3 Notes

University Press, 1959). The emphasis in my discussion on the constraints of situational determinants on attitude formation is directly indebted to Allison Davis’s description of “practical cultural systems” in his “The Motivation of the Underprivileged Worker,” in William F. Whyte (ed.), Industry and Society (New York: McGraw-Hill, Inc., 1946), 84-106. For a rebuttal of the Davis position see, Lewis A. Coser, “Unanticipated Conservative Conse¬ quences of Liberal Theorizing,” Social Problems, 16 (Winter, 1969), 263-272. 10. Stouffer et al., op. cit., II, 242-289. 11. Ibid.; and Shils and Janowitz, op. cit. 12. Roger W. Little, “Buddy Relations and Combat Performance,” in Morris Janowitz (ed.), The New Military (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1964), 195-223. See also the chapter “Primary Groups and Military Effectiveness” in Morris Janowitz with Roger W. Little, Sociology and the Military Establishment (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1965), 77-99. 13. Uyeki, in his discussion of the post-Korea peacetime Army, makes a similar point. He noted primary groups were weakened by rapid personnel turnover in units and the individual soldier knowing his own time of separation from the service. See Eugene S. Uyeki, “Draftee Behavior in the Cold-War Army, Social Problems, 8 (Fall, 1960),151-158. 14. Cited in Kurt Lang, “Military Organizations,” in James G. March (ed.), Handbook of Organizations (Chicago: Rand McNally & Company, 1965), 868. 15. Loc. cit. 16. Lucian W. Pye and Sidney Verba (eds.), Political Culture and Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1965) 17. Seymour M. Lipset, The First New Nation (New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1963), 1-11. 18. Philip E. Converse, “The Nature of Belief Systems in Mass Politics,” in David E. Apter (ed.), Ideology and Discoyitent (New York: Free Press, 1964), 206-261. 19. Edward A. Shils, “The Macrosociological Problem: Consensus and Dissensus in the Larger Society,” in Donald P. Ray (ed.), Trends in Social Science (New York: Philosophical Library, 1961), 60-83. 20. Robert E. Lane, Political Ideology (New York: Free Press, 1962). 21. Ibid., 439-459. 22. As Biderman insightfully states in his study of American prisoners of war in Korea: “The most common attitude was not only rela¬ tively apolitical, it was antipolitical. The almost universal way of referring to Communist indoctrination and indoctrination matter was ‘all that political crap.’ It was ‘crap’ not only because it was

2U Notes

Communist, but because it was political.” (Italics in the original.) Biderman, op. cit., 258. 23. Two revealing press reports further corroborate the nonsalience of ideology for American troops in Vietnam. An executive of the Star Publishing Company (an American-owned Okinawa-based concern handling commercial book and magazine distribution for U.S. forces in Vietnam) stated: “A genre not popular are ideo¬ logical books on the war itself.” (Italics in the original.) Best¬ sellers among servicemen were, in descending order: westerns, mysteries, sexy novels, science fiction, war novels, and comic books. See Richard R. Lingeman, “Back At the Front,” New York Times Book Review, February 25, 1968, 2-3. Similarly, Bob Hope and his writers confessed to surprise that servicemen in Vietnam did not enjoy jokes based on “political material.” Rather, comedy routines centering on stock Army situations were the best received. Reported in the New York Post, December 20, 1967, 6. In another context, the nonpolitical sentiments of Gis were shown in the testimony of former Major General Edwin A. Walker before a Senate subcommittee in 1962. Walker had, among other things, placed an announcement in the newspaper of the 24th Infantry Division requesting those under his command to call a telephone number to receive guidelines, based on the index of the rightist Americans for Constitutional Action, on how to vote. Questioned as to how many troops followed his advice, the General responded: “I did not answer the telephone, sir. A sergeant did. And we had, for your interest, which is sad, and I hate to admit, only five calls from 13,000 men.” See United States Senate, Military Cold War Education and Speech Review Policies, Hearings before the Special Prepared¬ ness Subcommittee of the Committee on Armed Services, 87th Cong., 2nd Sess. (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1962),1433. 24. This description of how Americans perceive their country based on interviews with a small number of combat soldiers is in direct opposition to that found in a large-scale survey measuring citizen beliefs in five countries. When asked what aspects of their country they were most proud of, Americans overwhelmingly mentioned governmental and political institutions. See Gabriel A. Almond and Sidney Verba, The Civic Culture (Princeton: Princeton Uni¬ versity Press, 1963), 102. Yet the finding of a materialistic primacy among combat soldiers given here parallels those given in ethno¬ graphic studies of working- and lower-middle class Americans in civilian contexts. See, for example, Arthur J. Vidich and Joseph Bensman, Small Town in Mass Society (New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1960) ; Ely Chinoy, Automobile Workers and the

2k5 Notes

American Dream (Boston: Beacon Press, Inc., 1965) ; Herbert J. Gans, The Urban Villagers (New York: Free Press, 1965) ; and Herbert J. Gans, The Levittowners (New York: Pantheon Books, Inc., 1966). 25. Shils and Janowitz, op. cit., 293-294. For relevant discussions on the question of masculine identity in the American armed forces, see Henry Elkin, “Aggressive and Erotic Tendencies in Army Life,” American Journal of Sociology, 51 (March, 1946), 408—413; D.W. Heyder and H.S. Wambach, “Sexuality and Affect in Frogmen,” Arch. General Psychiatry, 11 (September, 1964), 286-289; and Peter G. Bourne, “Observations on Group Behavior in a Special Forces ‘A’ Team Under Threat of Attack” (paper delivered at the Annual Meetings of the American Psychiatric Association, 1967). Furthermore, Bourne’s observations of a Special Forces unit in Vietnam strongly corroborate my own findings on the essentially individualistic frame of reference of combat soldiers. 26. On this same point with regard to American soldiers in the Korean conflict, see Little, op. cit., 202-204.

Chapter Seven

1. A partial list of these sporadically published GI underground newspapers in the late 1960s is: About-Face (Camp Pendleton, California), The Ally (Berkeley, California), Fatigue Press (Fort Hood, Texas), FT A (Fort Knox, Kentucky), Four-Year Bummer (Chanute AFB, Illinois), Gig-Line (Fort Bliss, Texas), Head-On (Camp Lejeune, North Carolina), The Last Harass (Fort Gordon, Georgia), Marine Blue (Fort Wilson, California), Reveille (Fort Ord, California), Shakedown (Fort Dix, New Jersey), The Short Times (Fort Jackson, South Carolina), and Vietnam GI (Chicago, Illinois). 2. See Army Regulation, 600-20, para. 46, dated January, 1967. 3. As of January 21, 1969, there were, according to Defense Depart¬ ment records, 749 military absentees who had gone to foreign countries. Of this total, 170 had returned to U.S. jurisdiction, leaving at that date a net of 579 deserters residing in foreign countries. Report, Treatment of Deserters from Military Service, U.S. Senate Subcommittee on Treatment of Deserters from Military Service of the Committee on Armed Services, 91st Cong. 1st sess. (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1969), 7. About 140 deserters were living in Sweden in early 1969 according to the Senate Subcommittee report, though Stockholm sources claimed the number was over 300. 4. Ibid., 9. 5. Ibid., 29.

2U6 Notes

6. Christian Science Monitor, March 26, 1968, 5. 7. Kenneth E. Boulding, “The Impact of the Draft on the Legitimacy of the National State,” in Sol Tax (ed.), The Draft (Chicago: Uni¬ versity of Chicago Press, 1967), 191-196.

Chapter Eight

1. For a somewhat different formulation than that given here of the variables involved in a convergent-divergent model of armed forces and society, see Albert D. Biderman and Laure M. Sharp, “The Convergence of Military and Civilian Occupational Structures Evidence from Studies of Military Retired Employment,” American Journal of Sociology, 73 (January, 1968), 383. 2. See, especially, C. Wright Mills, The Power Elite (New York: Oxford University Press, 1956) ; Irving Louis Horowitz, The War Game (New York: Ballantine Books, Inc., 1963) ; and Marc Pilisuk and Thomas Hayden, “Is There a Military Industrial Complex Which Prevents Peace,” Journal of Social Issues, 21 (July, 1965), 67-117. 3. For an especially creative and insightful treatment of the unique attributes of the military which impinge upon its social welfare role, see Bernard Beck, “The Military as a Welfare Institution” (paper read at the Annual Meetings of the American Sociological Association, Boston, Mass., 1968). Beck argues essentially that the military has been successful in its welfare role because it is legit¬ imated on other than conventional welfare grounds, e.g., national defense, manly honor, esprit de corps. On the question of the mili¬ tary’s efficacy as a remedial institution, see Roger W. Little, “Basic Education and Youth Socialization in the Armed Forces,” American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 38 (October, 1968), 869-876. 4. Harold Wool, The Military Specialists (Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins Press, 1968). This book is a major contribution to studies of the armed forces and American society. 5. William F. Levantrosser, Congress and the Citizen-Soldier (Columbus, Ohio: Ohio State University Press, 1967). This is an excellent study of the whole issue of reserve components in the American military establishment. 6. President’s Commission on Veterans’ Pensions, Veterans’ Benefits in the United States (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1956). The 1968 report of the U.S. Veterans Advisory Com¬ mission is summarized in The New York Times, April 23, 1968, 7. 7. The domestic opposition to the war in Vietnam should be placed in historical perspective. One writer on the subject has ranked the support given American wars in the following order, from most popular to least: (1) the Indian Wars on the Western frontier,

2U7 Notes

(2) World War II, (3) Spanish-American War (but not late Philippines), (4) Korean War, (5) World War I, (6) Vietnam War, (7) Civil War (North), (8) Revolutionary War, (9) Mexican War, and (10) War of 1812. See Sol Tax, “War and the Draft,” in Morton Fried et al., War: The Anthropology of Armed Conflict and Aggression (Garden City, N.Y.: Natural History Press, 1968), 200. 8. Marcus Cunliffe, Soldiers and Civilians: The Martial Spirit in America, 1775-1865 (Boston, Mass.: Little, Brown and Company, 1968). 9. Harold D. Lasswell, “The Garrison State,” American Journal of Sociology, 46 (January, 1941), 455-468; and Lasswell, “The Garrison State Hypothesis Today,” in Samuel P. Huntington (ed.), Changing Patterns of Military Politics (New York: Free Press, 1962), 51-70. For valuable critiques of the garrison-state concept, see Heinz Eulau, “H.D. Lasswell’s Developmental Analysis,” Western Political Quarterly, 11 (June, 1958), 229-242; and Samuel P. Huntington, The Soldier and the State (New York: Random House, Inc., 1957), 346-354. Bibliography

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2U9 Bibliography

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Cook, Fred J. The Warfare State. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1962. Coon, Gene L. The Short End. New York: Dell Books, 1964. Cowley, Malcolm. “War Novels: After Two Wars,” in his The Literary Situation. New York: The Viking Press, Inc., 1958, 23-42. Cozzens, James Gould. Guard of Honor. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1948. Crawford, William. Give Me Tomorrow. New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1966. Cunlilfe, Marcus. Soldiers and Civilians: The Martial Spirit in America, 1775-1865. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1968. Davis, James A. “Some Preliminary Findings from the Mili¬ tary Manpower Surveys.” Military Manpower Survey Working Paper No. 1, National Opinion Research Center, University of Chicago, July, 1965. Mimeographed. Davis, James W., Jr., and Kenneth M. Dolbeare. Little Groups of Neighbors. Chicago: Markham Press, 1968. Davis, Paul C. “The Negro in the Armed Services,” Virginia Quarterly, 24 (Autumn, 1948), 499-520. Derring, Peter. The Pride of the Green Berets. New York: Paperback Library, 1966. Dollard, John. Fear in Battle. New Haven, Conn.: Institute of Human Relations, Yale University, 1943. Donlon, Roger H.C. Outpost of Freedom. New York: McGraw- Hill, Inc., 1965. Drought, James. Mover. New York: Avon Publications, Inc., 1963. Duncan, Donald. The New Legions. New York: Random House, Inc., 1967. Dupuy, R. Ernest, and Trevor N. Dupuy. Military Heritage of America. New York: McGraw-Hill, Inc., 1Q56. Eisinger, Chester E. “The War Novel,” in his Fiction of the Forties. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963, 21-61. Elkin, Frederick. “The Soldier’s Language,” American Journal of Sociology, 51 (March, 1946), 414-422.

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Elkin, Henry. “Aggressive and Erotic Tendencies in Army Life,” American Journal of Sociology, 51 (March, 1946), 408-413. Feld, Maury D. “Information and Authority: The Structure of Military Organization,” American Sociological Review, 24 (February, 1959), 15-22. Ford, Daniel. Incident at Muc Wa. New York : Pyramid Books, 1967. Freeman, Felton, D. “The Army as a Social Structure,” Social Forces, 27 (October, 1948), 78-83. French, Elizabeth G., and Raymond R. Ernest. “The Relation Between Authoritarianism and Acceptance of Military Ideology,” Journal of Personality, 24 (December, 1955), 181-191. Ginzburg, Eli, et al. The Lost Divisions. New York: Columbia University Press, 1959. -. Patterns of Performance. New York: Columbia Uni¬ versity Press, 1959. Glaser, Daniel. “The Sentiments of American Soldiers Abroad Toward Europeans,” American Journal of Sociology, 51 (March, 1946), 433-438. Goldman, William. Soldier in the Rain. New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1966. Gray, J. Glenn. The Warriors. New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1967. Grinker, Roy R., and John P. Spiegel. Men Under Stress. New York: McGraw-Hill, Inc., 1945. Halberstam. One Very Hot Day. Boston : Houghton Mifflin Company, 1968. Hays, Samuel H. Essays on American Military Institutions. West Point, N.Y.: Office of Military Psychology and Lead¬ ership, U.S. Military Academy, 1969. Hays, Samuel H., and William N. Thomas (eds.). Taking Com¬ mand. Harrisburg, Pa.: Harold Stackpole Co., 1967. Heller, Joseph. Catch-22. New York: Dell Books, 1962. Heyder, D.W., and H.S. Wambach. “Sexuality and Affect in Frogmen,” Arch. General Psychiatry, 11 (September, 1964),286-289.

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Hicken, Victor. The American Fighting Man. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1969. Hollingshead, August B. “Adjustment to Military Life,” American Journal of Sociology, 51 (March, 1946), 439-447. Homans, George C. “The Small Warship,” American Sociologi¬ cal Review, 11 (June, 1946), 294-300. Horowitz, Irving Louis. The War Game. New York: Ballantine Books, Inc., 1963. Hume, Bill. Babysan. Rutland, Vt.: Charles E. Tuttle Co., 1953. -. Babysan’s World. Rutland, Vt.: Charles E. Tuttle Co., 1954. Humphrey, Robert L. Fight the Cold War. Washington, D.C.: International Research Institute of the American Institute for Research, n.d. Hunter, Floyd. Host Community and Air Force Base. Air Force Base Project, Chapel Hill, N.C.: Institute for Re¬ search in Social Science, University of North Carolina, November, 1952. Huntington, Samuel P. The Soldier and the State. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1957. Janowitz, Morris. The Professional Soldier. New York: Free Press, 1960. Janowitz, Morris (ed.). The Neiv Military: Changing Patterns of Organization. New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1964. Janowitz, Morris, and Roger W. Little. Sociology and the Mili¬ tary Establishment. New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1965. Jones, James. From Here to Eternity. New York: Signet Books, 1953. -. The Thin Red Line. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1962. Karpinos, Bernard D. Supplement to Health of the Army. Washington, D.C.: Office of the Surgeon General, Depart¬ ment of the Army, 1968. Killens, John Oliver. And Then We Heard the Thunder. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1963. Kinkead, Eugene. In Every War But One. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1959.

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Klassen, Albert D., Jr. Military Service in American Life Since World War II: An Overview. Report No. 117, Chicago: National Opinion Research Center, University of Chicago, September, 1966. Kolpacoff, Victor. The Prisoners of Quai Dong. New York: New American Library, 1967. LaBar, Jack. Too Much. Rutland, Vt.: Charles E. Tuttle Co., 1955. Lang, Kurt. “Military Organizations,” in J. G. March (ed.), Handbook of Social Organizations. Chicago: Rand McNally & Company, 1964, 838-878. -. “Technology and Career Management in the Military Establishment,” in Morris Janowitz (ed.), The New Mili¬ tary. New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1964, 39-81. Lasswell, Harold D. “The Garrison State,” A merican Journal of Sociology, 46 (January, 1941), 455-468. -. “The Garrison-State Hypothesis Today,” in Samuel P. Huntington (ed.), Changing Patterns of Military Politics. New York: Free Press, 1962, 51-70. Lazarsfeld, Paul F. “The American Soldier—an Expository Review,” Public Opinion Quarterly, 13 (Fall, 1949), 377- 404. Lee, Ulysses. The Employment of Negro Troops. Special Studies on the United States Army in World War II by the Office of the Chief of Military History. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1966. Levantrosser, William F. Congress and the Citizen-Soldier. Columbus, Ohio: Ohio State University Press, 1967. Levy, Alan, et al. Draftee’s Confidential Guide. New York: Signet Books, 1966. Linakis, Steven. In the Spring the War Ended. New York: Dell Books, 1966. Lindquist, Ruth. Marriage and Family Life of Officers and Airmen in a Strategic Air Command Wing. Air Force Base Project, Chapel Hill, N.C.: Institute for Research in Social Science, University of North Carolina, October, 1952. Little, Roger W. “Buddy Relations and Combat Role Per¬ formance,” in Morris Janowitz (ed.), The New Military.

25U Bibliography

New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1965, 194-224. -. “Basic Education and Youth Socialization in the Armed Forces,” American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 38 (Octo¬ ber, 1968),869-876. -. “The Dossier in Military Organization,” in Stanton Wheeler (ed.), On Record. New York: Russell Sage Foun¬ dation, 1970. --. “Field Research in Military Organization,” in Robert W. Habenstein and Howard S. Becker (eds.), Pathways to Data. Chicago: Aldine Publishing Co., in press. Little, Roger W. (ed.). Selective Service in American Society. New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1969. Lofland, John. “Priority Inversion in an Army Reserve Com¬ pany,” Berkeley Journal of Sociology, 9 (1964), 1-15. Lyons, Gene M., and John W. Masland. Education and Military Leadership. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1959. Mack, Raymond W. “The Prestige System of an Air Base,” American Sociological Review, 19 (June, 1954), 281-287. Mailer, Norman. The Naked and the Dead. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1948. Mandelbaum, David G. Soldiers’ Groups and Negro Groups. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1952. Marmion, Harry A. Selective Service. New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1968. Marshall, S.L.A. Men Against Fire. New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1964. Martin, Ralph G. The GI War. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1967. Mauldin, Bill. Up Front. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1945. -. Bill Mauldin in Korea. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1952. Mayer, Albert J., and Thomas F. Hoult. “Social Stratification and Combat Survival,” Social Forces, 34 (December, 1955), 155-159. McCrary, John W. Human Factors in the Operation of U.S. Military Units Augmented with Indigenous Troops.

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Washington, D.C.: Human Resources Research Office, The George Washington University, November, 1967. McKenna, Richard. The Sand Pebbles. New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1962. Melvin, Ken. Be Nice. Tokyo: Wayward Press, 1967. _. Sorry ’Bout That. Tokyo: Wayward Press, 1966. Merton, Robert K., and Paul F. Lazarsfeld, (eds.). Conti¬ nuities in Social Research: Studies in the Scope and Method of “The American Soldier.” New York: Free Press, 1950. Miller, James C., Ill (ed.). Why the Draft? Baltimore, Md.: Penguin Books, Inc., 1968. Millis, Walter. Arms and Men. New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1956. Mills, C. Wright. The Power Elite. New York: Oxford Uni¬ versity Press, 1956. Moskos, Charles C., Jr., “Has the Army Killed Jim Crow?” Negro History Bulletin (November, 1957), 27-29. _. “Racial Integration in the Armed Forces,” American Journal of Sociology, 72 (September, 1966), 132-148. _. “A Sociologist Appraises the G.I.,” The New York Times Magazine, September 24,1967, 32 ff. Moore, Gene, D. The Killing at Ngo Tho. New York: Pyramid Books, Inc., 1967. Moore, Robin. The Green Berets. New York: Avon Publica¬ tions, Inc., 1965. Mulligan, Hugh A. No Place to Die. New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1967. Murphy, Arthur A. “The Soldier’s Right to a Private Life,” Military Law Review (April, 1964), 97-124. National Advisory Commission on Selective Service. In Pursuit of Equity: Who Serves When Not All Serve? Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1967. Neumeyer, Bob. You Speak. Rutland, Vt.: Charles E. Tuttle Co., 1957. Nichols, Lee. Breakthrough on the Color Front. New York: Random House, Inc., 1954. Niles, Jack, and Jim Dye. Mox Nix. n.p., 1962.

256 Bibliography

Noncom’s Guide, The. Harrisburg, Pa.: Harold Stackpole Com¬ pany, 1966. Oi, Walter Y. “The Cost and Implications of an All-Volunteer Force,” in Sol Tax (ed.), The Draft. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1967, 221-251. Operations Research Office. Project Clear: The Utilization of Negro Manpower in the Army. Chevy Chase, Md.: Opera¬ tions Research Office, Johns Hopkins University, April, 1955. Opie, Everett. Dress Up That Line. Rutland, Vt.: Charles E. Tuttle, 1959. Parks, David. G.I. Diary. New York: Harper & Row, Pub¬ lishers, 1968. Peacock, Jere. Valhalla. New York : Dell Books, 1961. -. To Drill and Die. New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1964. Pearl, Jack. Stockade. New York: Pocket Books, Inc., 1965. Pilisuk, Marc, and Thomas Hayden. “Is There a Military In¬ dustrial Complex Which Prevents Peace?” Journal of So¬ cial Issues, 21 (July, 1965), 67-117. President’s Committee on Equal Opportunity in the Armed Forces (“Gessell Committee”). “Initial Report: Equality of Treatment and Opportunity for Negro Personnel Stationed within the United States.” Mimeographed, June, 1963. “Final Report: Military Personnel Stationed Overseas and Membership and Participation in the National Guard.” Mimeographed, November, 1964. President’s Committee on Equality of Treatment and Op¬ portunity in the Armed Forces (“Fahy Committee”). Freedom to Serve. Washington, D.C.: Government Print¬ ing Office, 1950. President’s Commission on Veterans’ Pensions. Veterans’ Benefits in the United States. Washington, D.C.: Govern¬ ment Printing Office, 1956. Rappoport, Leon, and George Cvetkovich. “Opinions on Viet¬ nam : Some Findings from Three Studies,” Proceedings, 76th Annual Convention, American Psychological Associa¬ tion, 1968, 381-382.

257 Bibliography

Raymond, Jack. Power at the Pentagon. New York: Harper & Row, Publisher, 1964. Report of the Secretary of War’s Board on Officer-Enlisted Re¬ lationships, (“Doolittle Report”). Washington, D.C.: In¬ fantry Journal Press, 1946. Rhodes, Hari. A Chosen Few. New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1965. Rigg, Robert B. How to Stay Alive in Viet Nam. Harrisburg, Pa.: Harold Stackpole Company, 1966. Rivera, Ramon J. “Sampling Procedures on the Military Man¬ power Surveys.” Military Manpower Survey Working Paper No. 3, National Opinion Research Center, University of Chicago, September, 1965. Mimeographed. Roberts, Arch E. Victory Denied. Chicago: Chas. Hallberg. 1966. Rose, Arnold M. “Army Policies Toward Negro Soldiers,” Journal of Social Issues, 3 (Fall, 1947), 26-31. Runyon, Charles W. The Bloody Jungle. New York: Ace Books, 1966. Sack, John. M. New York : New American Library, 1967. Sadler, Barry. I’m a Lucky One. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1967. Schoenfeld, Seymour J. The Negro in the Armed Forces. Wash¬ ington, D.C.: Associated Publishers, 1945. Scott, John F. “Soldiers on the Screen,” Army (November, 1967),51-55. Sharff, Lee E. (ed.). Uniformed Services Almanac. Washing¬ ton, D.C.: Moore and Moore, issued annually. Sheldon, Walter J. Tour of Duty. Rutland, Vt.: Charles E. Tuttle Co., 1959. Shils, Edward A. “Primary Groups in the American Army,” in Robert K. Merton and Paul F. Lazarsfeld (eds.). Continui¬ ties in Social Research. New York.: Free Press, 1950, 16- 39. Shils, Edward A., and Morris Janowitz. “Cohesion and Disin¬ tegration in the Wehrmacht in World War II,” Public Opinion Quarterly, 12 (Summer, 1948), 280-315. Simpson, Richard L., and N. J. Demerath. The U.S. Air Force

258 Bibliography

in England. Air Force Base Project, Chapel Hill, N.C.: Institute for Research in Social Science, University of North Carolina, n.d. Smith, William Gardner. Last of the Conquerors. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1948. Speier, Hans. “ ‘The American Soldier’ and the Sociology of Military Organization,” in Robert K. Merton and Paul F. Lazarsfeld (eds.), Continuities in Social Research. New York: Free Press, 1950, 106-132. Spindler, G. Dearborn. “The Military—A Systematic Analy¬ sis,” Social Forces, 27 (October, 1948), 83-88. Stambuck, George. American Military Forces Abroad. Colum¬ bus, Ohio: Ohio State University Press, 1963. Stein, Maurice, R. “World War II and Military Communities,” in his The Eclipse of Community. Princeton, N.J.: Prince¬ ton University Press, 1960,175-198. Stillman, Richard J., II. Integration of the Negro in the U.S. Armed Forces. New York: Frederick Praeger, 1968. Stone, Scott C.S. The Coasts of War. New York: Pyramid Books, 1966. Stouffer, Samuel A., et al. The American Soldier; Vol. 1, Adjustment to Army Life; Vol. 2, Combat and Its After- math. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1949. Swomley, John M., Jr. The Military Establishment. Boston: Beacon Press, 1964. Tax, Sol (ed.). The Draft. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1967. Thorp, Duncan. Only Akiko. Boston : Little, Brown and Com¬ pany, 1958. U.S. Commission on Civil Rights. “The Negro in the Armed Forces,” Civil Rights ’63. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1963, 169-224. U.S. Congress, House. Committee on Armed Services. Review of the Administration and Operation of the Selective Serv¬ ice System, Hearings. 89th Cong., 2nd sess. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1966. U.S. Congress, Senate. Committee on Armed Services. Military Cold War Education and Speech Review Policies. Hearings

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Before the Special Preparedness Subcommittee. 87th Cong., 2nd sess. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1962. _. Treatment of Deserters from Military Service. Report of Subcommittee. 91st Cong., 1st sess. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1969. U.S. Department of Defense. Modernizing Military Pay (“Hubbell Report”). Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, November, 1967. -. Selected Manpower Statistics. Washington, D.C.: Direc¬ torate for Statistical Services, Office of the Secretary of Defense, issued annually. Uyeki, Eugene S. “Draftee Behavior in the Cold-War Army,” Social Problems, 8 (Fall, 1960), 151-158. Vidich, Arthur J., and Maurice R. Stein. “The Dissolved Iden¬ tity in Military Life,” in Maurice R. Stein et al. (eds.). Identity and Anxiety. New York: Free Press, 1960, 493— 506. Walton, George. Let’s End the Draft Mess. New York: David McKay, 1967. Weaver, Gordon. Count a Lonely Cadence. Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1968. Wecter, Dixon. When Johnny Comes Marching Home. Cam¬ bridge, Mass.: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1944. Wilson, William. The LBJ Brigade. New York: Pyramid Books, 1966. Wool, Harold. The Military Specialist. Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins Press, 1968. Zidek, Tony. Choi Oi. Rutland, Vt.: Charles E. Tuttle Co., 1965. Zurcher, Louis A., Jr. “The Sailor Aboard Ship,” Social Forces, 43 (March, 1965), 389-400.

Periodicals Virtually all large military units, including ships at sea, and all major military installations, publish newspapers. Such house organs, however, contain little other than public relations infor¬ mation. The Stars and Stripes is the authorized daily newspaper in overseas areas and publishes European and Pacific editions.

260 Bibliography

(The daily press run is over 300,000.) Giving detailed accounts of new regulations and departmental policies for each of the services are the weekly Army Times, Navy Times, and Air Force Times. These newspapers are directed toward career military personnel at both the enlisted and officer levels. There are also the well- edited monthly journals published by supporting civilian organi¬ zations which are geared toward officers and civilian appointees of the services : Army (Association of the U.S. Army) ; Navy (Navy League of the U.S.) ; Air Force (Air Force Association) ; and Marine Corps Gazette (Marine Corps Association). Though all of the above contain valuable information for the student of military organization, they necessarily avoid printing material derogatory to the armed services. The movement against the war in Vietnam has brought forth a whole new genre of protest newspapers—the “gi under¬ ground” press aimed at the enlisted ranks of the military. The most durable of the underground periodicals is the Trotskyist- influenced The Bond, the regularly issued newspaper of the American Servicemen’s Union. Though grossly overstating the level of internal military dissension, these underground news¬ papers frequently report incidents that rarely see print in the standard press. (However, the left-wing National Guardian is a readily available newspaper that gives extensive coverage to racial and political incidents in the armed forces.) Occupying a midposition between the authorized or semi¬ official press of the military and the underground press is the Overseas Weekly. A unique commercial enterprise with its head¬ quarters in Frankfurt, Germany, the Overseas Weekly has a readership consisting almost entirely of enlisted military person¬ nel stationed abroad (the paper publishes both European and Pacific editions). The Overseas Weekly is must reading for anyone interested in the day-to-day concerns of enlisted men.

261 . Index

Act, 160-161 Andrews Air Force Base, 121 Adams, Franklin P., 99 And Then We Heard Thunder, 19 Adaptation to military life, 4-5, Anti-Americanism, 164 47, 56 Anti-ideology, 148-150 Administrative workers, 51 Antimilitarism, 34-35, 129, 178- Adult education, 60-61 179,184 Advanced training, 56-57 Vietnam War and, 157-165 Afro-American culture, 84, 128n. Antiwar movement, 34-35, 129, Age, 42-43 157-165, 178-180 Air Force, 12, 14, 18, 21, 23, 28, 37, Aptitude tests, 57 39,40-41, 43, 45, 48, 53, 56, Arabian Sea, 80 58, 61, 62, 70, 81, 112, 114, Armed forces abroad, 79-88 116,167,168,169,174 Armed forces and society, Air Force Reserve, 176-177 convergent-divergent model Air National Guard, 176-177 of, 166-182 Alienation, 8-9, 15, 180 Armed Forces Qualification Test Allotments, 44, 96, 174 (afqt),115-116 Allowances, 39n., 44 Armed Forces Radio, 84, 99, All the Young Men, 10 100-101 Alpha Company incident, 143w. Armed Society, The, 34 “Ambassadors in uniform,” 98 Army, 12, 18, 23, 24, 28, 37, 39, 40- American Expeditionary Force, 41, 43, 48, 52, 53,54, 55, 56, 58, 99 61, 62, 65, 70, 72, 73, 81, 85, 92, American Express Company, 83 101, 109, 110, 111-112, 114, Americanism, 150-152 115, 116, 119, 120, 124, 125, see also Chauvinism, 128w., 140, 169, 174, 176, 183 Patriotism antiwar movement and, 158- American Servicemen’s Union 159 (asu),158 survey of combat soldiers in Americans for Constitutional Vietnam, 136, 144 Action, 103 Army of the Republic of Vietnam, American society, 12, 13, 18, 64, 151-152 108, 118, 120,122,132,153, Army Reserve, 176-177 155-156 Atheism, 150 emergent military establish¬ Atom bomb, 32 ment and,166-182 Atrocities, 34, 141 American Soldier, The, 6-8, 31, Attitudes of soldiers toward mili¬ 119, 120, 144 tary life, 18, 46-47, 61-63

263 Index

Attitudes of soldiers toward racial “Buddy” relationship, 30, 141, integration, 118-121 144-146 Austria, 80 Bureaucracy, 28, 37, 132 Authoritarianism, 5-8, 15, 17, Buzz Sawyer, 28 74-77 Authority, deterioration of, 9, 12 Canada, 81 Axis powers, 32 Career paths, 56-60 Azores, 81 Career serviceman, 4, 15, 17, 25, 55, 57, 61, 62, 72, 78, 96 Babysan series, 21, 22 Negro, 116-118 Basic training, 56, 59 Caribbean, 79, 80 Battle Cry, 3 Cartoons, 2, 5-6, 8, 21, 23, 25, 27— Battle of the Bulge, 3 28 Behavior, 4, 10, 16, 20, 22, 26, 33, Caste system, 15, 46, 171 85, 90, 91-93, 97, 104-106, Casualties, 136-137, 138-139, 164 124, 129-130 Caudill, William, 85, 91 of combat soldiers in Vietnam, Chamberlin, Lieutenant General 134-156 S. J., llln. latent ideology and, 148 Changing military requirements, Belgium, 161 114-118 Be Nice, 26 Character Guidance, 99 Berlin crisis, 177 Chauvinism, 5, 89-90, 183 Biderman, Albert, 12-13 see also Americanism, Blacker, Irwin, 23 Patriotism Black Panthers, 131 Children, 84, 94-95 Black power movement, 123, 127, China, 33, 79, 81,87, 98, 129 128,131 Choi Oi, 25-26 see also Racial relations Chosen Few, A, 19 Blacks, 5, 18-20, 31,94, Citizenship of Vietnam orphans, 108-113, 116-118, 119-121 94-95 Black-white relations. See Racial Citizen-soldiers, 176-177 relations. Civilians, 1, 4, 8, 13, 23, 37, 44, 62, Bloody Jungle, The, 23 77, 120, 146, 153, 173 Bond, The, 158 Civilians in uniform, 4,167 Boomtowns, 20, 31-32, 82, 84-86, Civil-Military organizations, 37, 88, 90, 91, 95, 103-104, 105- 44, 53, 59-60, 70, 77, 82, 120, 106,174 121 Boulding, Elise, 70 emergent military establish¬ Boulding, Kenneth, 163 ment and,166-182 Boxer Rebellion, 79 Civil rights movement, 120, 127, Bragg, Fort, 19 128 Brainwashing, 11-13 see also Racial relations Brazil, 94 Civil War, 109, 112 Bryan, C. D. B., 20, 100 Coast Guard Reserve, 176-177 Buck, Pearl S., 94 Coasts of War, The, 23

26h Index

Cobb, John, 19 Cunliffe, Marcus, 179 Coffin, Tristram, 34 Cvetkovich, George, 35 Cohen, Carl, 16 Cold War, 2, 13-22, 30, 31, 33, 48, Danger, 138-139, 141, 143, 152, 79,168,169,170,180,184 153,155-156, 164 Collaboration with enemy, 11-13 D Day, 3 College-educated draftees, 15, 31, Deacons for Defense and Justice, 42, 74-77 131 see also Students Defense, Department of, 3, 43, 44, Combat, 4, 7, 8, 10, 27, 51, 52, 53, 49, 69, 84, 95, 99, 103, 115, 116, 82,114-116, 168, 169 119,121,160, 171,174,177 see also Combat soldiers in Defense Language Institute, 91 Vietnam Deferments, 50, 113, 169 Combat groups. See Small groups Democratic Convention (1968), 128 Combat pay, 138, 153m Denmark, 161 Combat soldiers in Vietnam, 134- Dependents, 39m, 68, 78, 82-84, 156 93m, 121, 174-175 attitude toward peace demon¬ Dependents Assistance Program, strators of, 162-165 70, 174-175 data collection on, 136-140 Deprivation, 140-141 deprivation of, 140-141 Derring, Peter, 23 ideology of, 146-156 Desegregation. See Racial inte¬ rotation system and, 141-144 gration small groups and, 144-146 Deserters, 90, 157, 159-162 Comic stereotypes, 28 Devil’s Brigade, The, 3 Command Information, 99 Diem regime in Vietnam, 22 Commission on Veterans’ Pensions, Differential treatment of soldiers, 7 178 Dirty Dozen, The, 19 Communism, 11-13, 25, 33, 98, 105, Discipline, 9, 58, 66-67, 110, 127, 130,149-150, 184 130,134 Community Service, 70, 174 deterioration of, 33 Company level activities, 66-67, Discontent, 7-8, 15 72-73 see also Hostility Conservatives, 33, 35-36 Dissent. See Antiwar movement, Cook, Fred, 34 Peace demonstrations Coon, Gene L., 19, 20 Dominican Republic, 79, 80, 125, Correspondence courses, 60 130, 165, 183, 184 Count a Lonely Cadence, 16, 19 “Domino theory,” 151 Counterinsurgency warfare, 81 Donlon, Roger H. C., 23 Cowley, Malcolm, 4, 5 Doolittle Board, 9, 12 Cozzens, James Gould, 19 Doolittle, Lieutenant General Crawford, William, 11 James H., 8 Cross-service differences, 61-62, Draft. See Selective Service 65,111-114, 166 System Cuba, 79, 81, 109, 184 Draftees, 15, 47, 48-49, 52, 55, 57,

265 Index

Fahy committee, 121 Draftees (cont.) 62,71-72,75, 96,113,117,118, Families, 45, 68-70, 82-84, 96, 122,123,140, 169,171,182 174-175 Family-service agencies, 70 Draft exemptions, 50 see also Deferments Far East, 20, 21, 80, 81, 83, 85n., 87, 90, 91, 94, 95, 99, 103, 126 Dress policies, 74 Dress Up That Line, 21 Fascism, 4, 34 Drought, James, 16, 19 Fear, 141 Field trip survey (Vietnam), 136- Drugs, 162 Duncan, Donald, 23 144 Duty assignments, 57 Fixed Bayonets, 10 Duty roster, 67-68, 72 Ford, Daniel, 24 Foreigners, 4, 20-22, 31-32, 82, 86, Dye, Jim, 21 103-107, 175-176

Educational levels, 42-43, 49, 52, “Fort Hood 43,” 128 62, 89, 117 France, 80, 94—95, 104—106, 125, of post-Vietnam military, 171 161 of Vietnam combat soldiers From Here to Eternity, 4, 67 surveyed, 139 Front-echelon soldiers, 6, 30-31, Educational programs, 60-61 122,138,142,153, 154 Education and Military Leader¬ ship, 14 Garmisch Recreation Area, 88 Effective performance, 5-6, 7-8, 27, Garrison soldiers, 5, 26, 27, 68, 99, 134-135 167 of combat soldiers in Vietnam, Garrison state, 180-181 140-146 Gathering of Eagles, A, 17 Egalitarianism, 15,19, 74-77, General Educational Development 108,115, 121, 173 (ged) , 60-61 Eisenhower Administration, 177 German National Democratic Eisenhower, General Dwight D., Party, 101 168,177 Germany, 20, 21, 32, 73n., 79—80, 81, England, 88, 106,161 83, 84, 86, 88, 91, 93, 98, 99, Enlisted clubs, 6, 84 102, 104-106, 106n., 125, 126- Enlisted culture, 64-77 127,159,161,183 Entrance tests, 50, 111, 113, 169 Gesell committee, 121 Establishment, emergent military, Gesture, The, 19 166-182 Ghettos, 128 see also Military life Gl Bill, 172 Ethnocentrism, 21 G.I. Blues, 20 Europe, 20, 21, 60, 80, 81, 87, 88, GI Diary, 25 90, 95, 99,102 Gillem, Lieutenant General Alvan antiwar groups in, 159-162 C., llln. Expatriates, 90-91 Gi Press Service, 157-158 Give Me Tomorrow, 11 Fahy, Charles, 111, 112 Goldman, William, 17

266 Index

Gomer Pyle, 18 Institutionalization, 1, 5, 17, 18, Government housing, 84 31, 37, 59,170-182 Grade distributions, 38-41, 54-56 Intellectuals, 16, 32, 33-34, 178- Gray, J. Glenn, 8 180,183 Green Berets, 23-24 Interventionist policies of U.S., Greenland, 81 164,165, 181-182, 183-185 Guam, 81, 83, 139 Interviews with combat soldiers in Guard of Honor, 19 Vietnam, 137-144 Guatemala, 184 Invitation to Learming, 100 Iran,184 Haiti, 79 Isolation, 1, 25, 61, 107, 140-141 Halberstam, David, 25 Italy, 161 “Hardship” areas, 78 Hawaii, 89, 175 Jackson, Fort, 158 Heroism, 3, 7, 10, 27, 141, 155, 183 Janowitz, Morris, 14-15, 144 Hogan’s Heroes, 28 Japan, 20, 21, 32, 79, 81, 83, 85, Hollywood, 3, 10, 19 87, 88, 91,92, 93n., 94, 96, 99, Hong Kong, 103 104-106, 125, 127, 129, 159n. Hood, Fort, 128 Japanese-Americans, 109 Hook, The, 10 Japan Peace for Vietnam Com¬ “Hootch boys,” 87 mittee, 159m Host country attitudes toward Johns Hopkins University, 119 American serviceman, 103-107 Johnson, Lyndon B., 150, 177 Hostility, 5, 16, 26, 35, 62, 76 Jones, James, 4 of soldiers toward peace demonstrations, 162-165 Karsten, Reverend Ernst W., 92 Housing, 121-122 Kastl, Albert, 96 Hume, Bill, 21 “Katusas,” 109, 176 Huntington, Samuel, 13, 14 Kennedy Administration, 22, 173 Kennedy, John F., 20, 177 Iceland, 81 Kenny, William, 96 Ideology, 4-5,13, 25, 27, 34, 129, Killens, John Oliver, 19 135, 155-156, 166 Killing at Ngo Tho, The, 23 latent, 146-156 Kinkead, Eugene, 11, 12 of peace demonstrators, 164 Kolpacoff, Victor, 25 Illegitimate babies, 93-95 Korea, 2, 8-13, 18, 20, 21, 24, 26, Images of enlisted life. See 30, 32-33, 35, 49, 54, 57, 80, 81, Stereotypes 83, 87, 88, 91, 92, 93m, 94, 98, I’m a Lucky One, 23 111, 119, 120, 125, 126,129, Incident at Muc Wa, 24 131, 134, 142,144, 146, 160, Indian Wars, 109 168, 175, 176, 177, 183 Individualism, 15, 168 Ku Klux Klan, 131 Indoctrination of overseas troops, 97-102 LaBar, Jack, 21 In Every War But One, 11 Lancaster, Mike, 21

267 Index

Lane, Robert, 148 McCarthy, Joseph, 33 Lang, Kurt, 55 McHale’s Navy, 28 Lasswell, Harold, 180, 181 McKenna, Richard, 87 Last of the Conquerors, 19 McNamara, Robert, 177 LBJ Brigade, The, 24 Medical care, 174 Leadership. See Military leaders Meet the Press, 100 Left-wing groups, 33-34, 36 Melvin, Ken, 26 LeJeune, Camp, 19 Men Against Fire, 8 Levantrosser, William, 177 Men in War, 10 Liberals, 19, 33-34, 35,110, 173,184 Mexico, 91, 13lf Lindquist, Ruth, 69 Middle class, 15, 41, 43, 50, 74-77, Line soldiers, 73-74 122,139,169,170-171, 181 Little, Roger W., 30, 92, 96, 144, 145 Middle East, 60, 80, 81 Long Binh stockade, 128 Militarism, 14, 28, 179-180 Looting, 141 Military Establishment, The, 34 Lottery recruitment system, 48 Military f orces abroad, 79-88, 175- Lyons, Gene, 14 176 Military-industrial complex, 34, MacArthur, General Douglas, 16 168-169 Mail, 83-84, 145-146, 161 Military justice, 9 Mailer, Norman, 4 Military leaders, 13, 14-15, 17, 28, Make-work, 65 33, 38 “Mamasans,” 87 Military life Manpower requirements, 48, 51—54, adaption to, 4-5, 47, 56 168,169, 171 antimilitarism and, 178-180 Manual laborers, 51, 53 antiwar groups’ effect on, 157- March on the Pentagon, 34 165 March to Calumny, 12 apartness from civilian society Marine Corps, 18, 23, 28, 37, 39, of, 170-182 40-41, 43, 48, 53, 56, 61, 62, 81, attitudes toward, 46-47, 61-63, 98, 113, 114, 115, 116, 128n., 118 169,176 authoritarianism and egali¬ Marine Corps Reserve, 176-177 tarianism in, 74-77 Marriage to foreign women, 95-97 careers in, 56-61, 116-118 Married servicemen, 43, 68-70, caste system of, 7, 15, 46,171 82-84, 174-175 combat soldiers in Vietnam Marshall, S. L. A., 8 and,134-156 Marvin, Lee, 154 discipline and, 9,12, 33 Masculinity, 154-155, 165 draftee vs. regular volunteer Masland, John, 14 in, 15-16, 30-31, 62-63, 71-72 Mass media, 3, 4, 8, 10, 27 emergent military establish¬ antiwar groups and, 157 ment and,166-182 Materialism, 152-154 enlisted culture and, 64-77 Mauldin, Bill, 5-6, 8, 22, 27,103 families and, 68-70, 82-84, 95- Mayer, Major William, 11 97,174-175

268 Index

Military life (cont.) Military media, 99-103 grade distribution in, 38-81, Military Occupational Specialties 54-56 (mos) , 53, 56-59 ideological aspects of, 4-5, 33- Military pay. See Wage scales 34, 134-135, 146-156 Military service, legitimacy of, images of, 1-36 34-35, 48, 129, 178-180 institutionalized quality of, Mills, C. Wright, 14, 34, 40 1-2, 5, 7, 17-18,37,56 Minority groups. See Racial inte¬ manner of service entry and, gration 48-51 Mobilization, 2, 9, 13, 23, 167 mass media and, 2-26 Moonlighting, 45 Negroes in, 108-133 Moore, Gene D., 23 “new” military and, 37-63, Moore, Robin, 23 166-182 Moral commitment. See Ideology occupational specialties in, Morale, 13, 163 51-54 Morality, 4, 12, 16, 20, 22, 26, 85, officers vs. enlisted men in, 5-8, 91-93, 164 10-11,15, 17,29-30, 38-62, 71 Motivation, 25, 49, 90, 117, 142,147 organizational changes in, of combat soldiers in Vietnam, 14- 15 134,146-156 overseas duty in, 20-22, 78- Mover, 16, 19 107,175-176 Movies, 2-4, 10, 19, 23, 24 peace demonstrators and, 162— Mox Nix, 21 165 Murphy, Audie, 27 post-Vietnam military and, 170-182 Naked and the Dead, The, 4 racial integration in, 18-20, National Guard (Army), 176-177 108-133 National Liberation Front, 101, resentments of, 5-9, 10-11, 130,151-152, 164 15- 17, 29-31, 46-48, 62, 76 National Opinion Research Center role conflicts in, 72-73 (norc) surveys, 29, 41, 42- small group units in, 5-6, 7-8, 43, 46, 49, 52, 58, 65-66, 144-146, 155-156 75, 76,89, 117,118,190-191 social class backgrounds and, NATO, 80, 81, 83 15-16, 39-40, 41-44, 64-65, Navy, 18, 23, 28, 37, 39, 40-41, 73-77 43, 48, 53, 56, 61, 62, 81, 85, stereotypes of, 1-36, 61, 72 112, 114, 116, 125, 167, 169 stratification within, 44-46, Navy Reserve, 176-177 71-74 Negroes, 5, 18-20, 31, 94, 108-113 subversion of personnel in, attitudes toward integrated 158-162 military of, 119-121 Vietnam survey of combat as career servicemen, 116-118 soldiers and, 136-144 see also Racial relations vocabulary of, 65-68 Netherlands, 159, 161 wage scales in, 44-46 Neumeyer, Bob, 21

269 Index

Overseas duty, 18, 20—22, 31—32, 57, New Left, 34, 157 New Legions, The, 23 68,78-107, 175-176 “New” military, 37-63 allowances for, 44 Newspapers, military, 99-103, 139 boomtowns and, 84-86 underground,157-158,160-162 foreign national worker^ and, New Yorker, The, 11 86-88 host country attitudes and, New York Times, The, 17 Nicaragua, 79 103-107 military forces and, 79-88 Niles, Jack, 21 Noncommissioned officers, 5, 15, 16, Negroes and, 124-127 18, 19, 30, 39, 47, 59-60, 61, relations with local women 71, 72, 84, 97, 122, 123 and,91-96 black,117-118 tourism and, 88-90 Noncommissioned officers clubs, 86, troop indoctrination and, 97-102 123 Overseas Weekly, 21, 102—103 NORC. See National Opinion Re¬ search Center North Africa, 60, 80, 81, 88 Pacifism, 159, 179 see also Antiwar movement North Vietnam, 98, 151-152 Panama Canal Zone, 79, 81, 83, 175 Norway, 161 Norwegian-Americans, 109 Parks, David, 25 No Time For Sergeants, 18, 28 Patriotism, 27, 33, 49, 117, 135, Novels, 2, 3-4, 5, 8, 10, 16, 19, 27 147, 148, 151 Nuclear deterrence, 13, 168 Peace demonstrations, 26, 35 combat soldiers’ attitude

Occupational specialties, 51-54 toward, 162—165 Officer-enlisted conflicts, 5-8, 10-11 Peacetime military, 15, 16, 18, 20, Officers, 5, 7, 9, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 28, 33, 34, 49, 61, 78, 79, 168 30, 71, 75, 84, 102,120-121, Peacock, Jere, 10, 20, 67 122, 170 Pearl Buck Foundation, 95 clubs for, 6, 86 Pearl Harbor, 2, 32, 109 compared with enlisted men, Pearl, Jack, 16, 19 38-62 Pension benefits, 58 Office soldiers, 73-74 Pentagon, 100, 101, 128n., 157, Oi, Walter, 43 176,184 Okinawa, 20, 81, 83, 91; 125 Performance. See Effective per¬ One Very Hot Day, 25 formance Only Akiko, 20 Personal relations within military, On-the-job training, 57 71-74, 140, 144-146 “Operation stif,” 85n. Petty officers, 39 Opie, Everett, 21, 22 Philippines, 79, 81, 83,109, 112, 175 Orientation lectures, 97-99 Playboy, 101 Orientoons, 21 “Point” man, 145 Orphanages, 94-95 Policy vs. practice in racial inte¬ Outpost of Freedom, 23 gration, 121-124

270 Index

Politics, 26, 33-34, 102, 105, 150, Racial integration (cont.) 181,184 post-Vietnam military and, antiwar movement in, 157-165 172-174 latent ideology and, 148 Racially mixed marriages, 96-97 peace demonstrations and, Racial relations, 108-133, 152, 182 162-165 attitudes of soldiers toward, Popular Forces, 176 118-121 Pork Chop Hill, 10 black soldiers overseas and, Post Exchanges, 44, 69, 83, 121, 124-127 137 changing military require¬ Post-Vietnam military, 170-182 ments and,114-118 Poverty, 171-172 desegregating the military see also Racial integration, and,108-114 Social welfare, Working class policy vs. practice in, 121-124 Power Elite, The, 34 strife in, 122, 123, 128 Pragmatism, 140-141, 144, 146 Racism. See Racial relations Presidio stockade, 158 Radicals, 129, 173, 178-180, 182 Pride of the Green Berets, The, 23 Radio Hanoi, 148 Primary groups. See Small groups Rank,45-46, 54-55, 71, 188-189 Prisoners of Quai Dong, The, 25 Rappoport, Leon, 35 Prisoners of war, 11-13, 27, 33, Rear-echelon soldiers, 6, 15, 30-31, 129-130, 134 122,138,142,153,154 Professional militarists, 179-180, Recruiters, military, 34, 180 184 Reenlistments, 58, 76, 117-118 Professional Soldier, The, 14 Regimentation, 5, 56, 70-71 Project Clear, 119, 120, 123 Regular volunteers, 15, 49, 52, 55, Project 100,000, 172 56, 58, 62, 71-72, 96, 122, 140, Project Transition, 172 169 Promotions, 57, 58-60, 72-73, 121 Religion, 83, 168 Propaganda,11-13, 99, 129, 165 Replacements, 97, 142 Prostitution, 91-93, 94, 126 see also Rotation system Protestants, 167 Reservists, 176-177 Protocol, 46 Resisters Inside the Army, 160 Provos, 159 Retaliation, 168 PT-109, 19-20 Rhodes, Hari, 19 Public school system, 84 Riflemen, 179-180 Public support of military , 10, 13, “Right to fight,” 116 24, 32, 34-35 Right-wing groups, 35 Puerto Rico, 109, 140 Riots, 128 Role conflicts, 72-73 Quakers, 159, 179 Rose, Arnold M., 146 Rospach, Marion, 102 Racial exclusivism, 122 Ross, Harold, 99 Racial integration, 18-20, 31, 108- Rotation system, 87, 141-144, 163 114,139 rotc graduates, 47

271 Index

R&R tours, 89 Social class backgrounds, 5, 10, 15, Runyon, Charles W., 23 39-40, 41-44, 50, 51, 64-65, 71, 77, 95, 105 Sack, John,24 peace demonstrations and, 163 Sadler, Barry, 23 of Vietnam combat soldiers Saigon, 26, 125, 128, 164 surveyed, 139—140 Salaries. See Wage scales see also Middle class, Working Samoa, 83 class Sand Pebbles, The, 87 Social organization of enlisted Sands of Iwo Jima, 3 ranks, 48-63 Sayonara, 20 Social relationships, 20-21, 146 Scandinavia, 109 see also Personal relations Scapegoating, 75 Social science analyses, 2, 6-8, 15- Schools, military, 56, 59-61, 84 16, 50, 54, 85, 92, 96, 119, 135 Search and Destroy, 23 of combat soldiers in Vietnam, Second Front, The, 160n. 136-144 Segregation, 5, 18, 108, 110, 112, Social stratification in military, 113,120,121,124,125 44-46 Selective Service System, 10, 48, Social welfare, 45, 171-172 49, 169, 171 Socioeconomic groups. See Social Self-advancement, 49-50, 117 class backgrounds Self-interest, 135, 143, 144-146 Socioeducational backgrounds, 42- Separatists, black, 120, 122 43, 50, 76, 115 Service entry, manner of, 38, 41, Soldier and the State, The, 14 48-51, 117 Soldier in the Rain, 17 Service workers, 51 Solidarity of combat group. See Sexual relations with foreign Small groups women, 91-93 Sorry ’Bout That, 26 Sheldon, Walter, 20, 21 Southeast Asia, 80, 116, 151 Shils, Edward A., 144 South Vietnam, 22, 98, 130, 176 Short End, The, 19, 20 combat soldiers in, 134-156 “Short-timer’s fever,” 143 Soviet Union, 81, 98 Siberia, 79 Spain, 81, 88 Simms, R., 21, 22 Spanish-American War, 79, 109 Skepticism, 148-150, 181 Special Forces. See Green Berets Skills, 14-15, 17, 28, 39, 51-54, 56, Specialization, 39, 51-54, 167, 168, 57, 77, 114, 131, 166 169,173 transferability of, 173-174 Speier, Hans, 7 see also Utility of military Spiritual values, 152 training Sports activities, 67-68 Small groups, 5, 7-8, 17, 30, 97, Standard of living, 41, 152-153 135-136, 142, 144-146, 147, Stapp, Andrew, 158 155-156 Stars and Stripes, 99-101 Smith, William Gardner, 19 State Department, 95

272 Index

Stateside duty, 5, 89, 91 Terrorism, 26, 131 allowances and, 44 Thailand, 81, 83 Status, 15, 29, 39, 46, 47, 56, 62, Third-world areas, 22 71, 76, 86, 116,126 Thorp, Duncan, 20 Steel Helmet, The, 10 Three Stripes in the Sun, 20 Stereotypes, military, 1-36, 72, 124 To Drill and Die, 10 in Cold War, 13-22 To Hell and Back, 3 comic, 28 Tokyo After Dark, 20 in Korean War, 8-13 Too Much, 21 truths in, 27-36 Tourism, 88-90, 97 in Vietnam, 22-26 Tour of Duty, 20 in World War II, 2-8 Town Without Pity, 20 Steve Canyon, 28 Tradition, military, 12, 18, 24, 28, Stockade, 16, 19 40-41, 53, 59, 70, 167, 168, Stone, Scott, C. S. 23 169, 174 Story of G.I. Joe, The, 3 Travel, 88-90 Stouffer, Samuel A., 6-8,144 Troop Information and Education, Strategic Air Command (sac), 17, 99 69 Trotskyists, 32, 158 Students, 26, 34, 50, 60, 178-180 Truman, Harry S., 108, 111, 112, Student Socialist League, 159 177 Styron, William, 16 Trust Territory, 83 Subculture. See Enlisted culture Tuition Aid Program, 60 Subversion, 159-162 “Support-the-boys” campaigns, Underground press, 157-158, 160- 164-165 162 Survey findings, 2, 6-8, 18, 29, 35, Uniform Code of Military Justice 41-49, 52, 62, 76, 89, 104, 117, (UCMJ), 9, 12, 66 118 Uniforms, 74 on combat soldiers in Vietnam, University of Maryland, 60 136-144 Up Front, 5-6 Survival, 144-146, 155 U.S. Armed Forces Institute Sweden, 160, 161 (usafi) , 60 Swedish Vietnam Committee, 159 U.S. Command Information, 148 Switzerland, 161 U.S. Congress, 9, 83n., 160, 177 Swomely, John, 34 U.S. Court of Military Appeals, 9 U.S. Information Agency (USIA), Taiwan, 81, 83, 91 104 Take the High Ground, 17-18 US (organization), 131 Tales of the Green Berets, 28 Utility of military training in Teahouse of the August Moon, 20 civilian life, 53-54, 57, 172 Technological warfare, 14-15, 17, Uyeki, Eugene, 30 28, 37, 51, 174 Television, 3, 29, 84 Valhalla, 20

273 Index

Venereal disease, 97 War of Independence, 108 Verboten, 20 Warrant officers, 39 Veterans, 54, 172, 178 War Registers International, 159 black, 180-131 Warsaw Pact, 98 Veterans Advisory Commission, War zone survey (Vietnam), 136- 178 144 Veterans Administration, 178 Wayne, John, 23, 154 Vice areas. See Boomtowns Weaponry, 14, 28, 56 Viet Cong, 101, 130, 151-152, 164 Weaver, Gordon, 16,19 Vietnam, 2, 22-26, 27, 31, 34-35, 38, W ehrmacht, 144, 154 48, 49, 51, 52, 80, 81, 83, 86, Where It’s At, 16071. 87, 89, 91, 92, 94, 95, 99, 106, Wilkinson, P. S., 20 116, 118, 125, 126, 129, 168, Williams, Robert F., 131 169, 171, 173, 175, 179, 181, Wilson, William, 24, 25 183,184 Wool, Harold, 51, 173, 174 antiwar groups and, 157-165 Woollcott, Alexander, 99 casualty surveys in, 136-137, Working class, 41, 43, 50, 64, 75, 138-139 105, 122, 139, 169, 170-171 combat soldiers m, 134-156 Work sections, 72-73 Vocabulary, enlisted man’s, 65-68 World War I, 27, 79, 109, 142 Voice of America, 101 16, 19, 20, 21, 24, 27, 29, 30, Voluntary enlistments. See Regu¬ 31, 32, 35, 51, 52, 54, 55, 72, lar volunteers 79, 93, 95, 99, 100, 103, 109- Volunteer army, 48,171, 174, 182 110, 112, 113, 115, 119,129, 131, 142, 144, 146, 154, 160, Wage scales, 44-46, 171, 188-189 167, 168, 170, 171, 174, Walker, Major General Edwin, 33, 175, 179, 180 102-103 War Department, 6, 8 York, Alvin, 27 Warfare State, The, 34 You Speak, 21 War Hunt, 10 War is Hell, 10 Zidek, Tony, 25-26 War of 1812, 109 Zulu 1200s, 131