Do I Feel A Draft?

It was sometime between 1970 and 1972. In one of my rare brushes with the occult, I nervously approached the Magic 8-Ball with the question that hung over my young head: “Will this Vietnam War end before I’m old enough to be drafted?”

The answer was unclear. (The 8-Ball also waffled on urgent questions about cooties .) Now a new generation may have to sweat the answers, as Rep. Charles Rangel, D-N.Y., prepares to reintroduce legislation to revive draft registration.

A lot of the people who are unhappy with our current all-volunteer military are nostalgic for the shared sacrifices of “the last good war.” They’d love to see us return to war taxes, rationing books, curfews, air raid drills, and the like. They’d probably be ecstatic if they could dig up Clark Gable and sort of prop him up against the wall to sell war bonds. (“Frankly, my dear…my left femur fell off.”)

Yeah, we whipped Hitler with draftees, but those recruits had been toughened up by rural life and/or the Great Depression. Nowadays a drill sergeant’s call for a 10-mile hike would be met with whines of “If the jostling hurts my PlayStation 3, what is the procedure for filing a class action suit?”

I can understand the concerns about poor and minority recruits being disproportionately represented in a dangerous occupation like the service. But I wonder how the draft proponents would react if a mugger was whuppin’ up on them with a tire iron and someone who had chosen a career as a police officer came to the rescue. (“No, thanks. I’m waiting for the draftee police program to start.”)

I don’t think I would sleep a bit safer knowing that rich politicians’ sons were forced to defend me. . Cries of “Hey, cap’n, I need another tank – the ashtrays in this one are full” just don’t inspire me. And when the privileged lads get into hand-to-hand combat, I don’t think, “Have your people call my people” will cut it.

I’m concerned that forcing celebrity kids into the military would create an expensive new bureaucracy: the Department of Hey, Dad, Get Me A Deferment Or I Swear I’ll Show Up At Your Campaign Rally Stoned.

Just watch some shrewd politician exploit the draft and appeal to the hawk vote. (“My opponent is a card-carrying member of the Hug Your Kids And Tuck Them In At Night Club. A good deadbeat dad is what this country needs in Congress. Vote for me and I’ll get the job done.”)

Of course Rangel and his supporters don’t really want a draftee military going to war. They want the draftee force to make Congress “think twice” about launching a war. Instead of viewing the war in an abstract sense, congressmen would theoretically be more cautious and diplomatic if they thought they were putting youths from their own district in harm’s way. I guess that depends on what sort of relationship they have with the folks back home. (“Let’s declare war on Luxembourg! That’ll teach that snot-nosed kid not to throw my newspaper in the bushes.”)

The Associated Press gives Rangel’s legislation little hope of passage, but the soreheads out there will never ever let go of their class warfare schemes. (“I think Bush’s daughters ought to be out there on the front line. C’mon, honey, throw your walker at ‘em!”)