The Call of the Trumpet (a belated Independence Day Remembrance)

Memorial Day, Veterans Day, and Independence rank in order as my top three holidays (not including Christmas and Easter as they remain sacred). Memorial Day is first, because of the loss of my father in WWII and all the others who have fallen on the field of battle, from the sky, or or to the bottom of the oceans.

In the 1960s during the Vietnam War and post college, I was a high school football and baseball coach in Roanoke, VA. I worked for and with some terrific administrators and coaches and coached some fine young men. Seemingly, all was perfect; I was doing what I had always wanted to do and at a High School that any new coach would envy. Moreover, I was exempt from the draft as a “sole surviving son” of a deceased veteran.

Each evening during the 6:00 pm news, I watched the horrors and bravery of the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines serving in South Vietnam. Life was good coaching the who sports I loved, teaching young people commitment, and watching them develop into young men of substance (I did teach or coach girls). But something was missing. Deep down I wanted to strap on that cartridge belt, carry an M-14 (the M-16 had not been fielded then), meet the enemy and coach/lead in an environment where the stakes were higher and there was less recognition.

It was then that I felt (not heard) the call of the trumpet and in less than a year, I had completed Officers Candidate School, infantry training at Quantico, VA, and was a platoon commander in the rice paddies of Quang Nam Province, South Vietnam.

In 1970, I returned from a year in the bush (documented in my Witness to War video on UTUBE and in my blog at www.jhbenson.turnarounds.squarespace.com, and in my two books: So You Want to Be a Leader - Advice and Counsel for Young Leaders, and Executive Courage - Sometimes You Have to Walk Point.. I returned home from Vietnam to little recognition but not the “spit in your face” reception some experienced upon return at the airport in Los Angeles. When I arrived home, my friends seemed a bit distant and few if any asked me a question about my experience or observations, which seemed strange I thought.

I remained in the Marine Corps for 26 years. After all, I was still coaching and was fortunate to hold some of the most prestigious positions in the Corps. I served mostly with volunteers who sought to test their manhood, travel, discover adventure and/or be part of something bigger than themselves. I experienced many other dangerous and tense times (especially in the mountains and populated areas in Nicaragua during the mid-1980s during the Sandinista and Contra War).

Subsequent to retirement from the Corps, I served in two very senior positions at my college alma mater under a superb president and great friend who gave me the opportunity to alter and hone my Marine leadership style, essentially to work with and appreciate civilians in academia.

Later, I moved on to the presidency of a fine military two-year college in the great state of Alabama (I mean that literally) and later to my twilight tour as President of Riverside Military Academy in Gainesville, GA. In both instances, Mary and I loved the people (with few exceptions), the cadets, and the environment.

Fifty years after graduation, I returned to my college alma mater for our 50 year reunion. A couple of weeks before the event, I was asked by an alumnus and former classmate to participate as a member of a panel of classmates to discuss the trials and tribulations of the 1960s with other alumni in the audience. After some reflection, I called back and declined, concluding that Vietnam would be a centerpiece of the debate/discussion, and I preferred not to get into a tense debate relative to the war.

When I arrived, I walked over to the student union to observe some of the panel discussion and see classmates and immediately was shown my chair on the panel even though I had declined the invitation. Thus, rather than create a disturbance of any kind, I took the chair. Next to me sat a football teammate and good friend throughout college. Sitting side by side, he never greeted me or even made eye contact. Others on the panel were conscientious objectors to the war and/or pacifists of Church of the Brethren denomination. I immediately wondered if it was a set up, but I think not.

The first question was directed to me, and it was related to my opinion of the purpose and reasoning for participation in the war that so severely divided the country in the late 1960s and early 1970s. My recollection is that the Vietnam discussion took the entire allotted time, and no other agenda was addressed. I can’t say that the event was hostile, but it was not respectful for the most part.

I did not try to defend the war in Vietnam. Whatever I would say about the U.S. being signatories to the SEATO Treaty would have fallen on deaf ears. I used my time to speak of the heroes I served with, the hardships we faced, and the good things that were done (medcaps and dentalcaps) for the Vietnamese people but never reported in the news media.

The same night at the class banquet, I sensed resentment once more from some of my classmates. The irony is that 47 years after returning from Vietnam, this was the first time that I had experienced prejudicial treatment relative to my participation in the Vietnam War, and it occurred at my alma mater.

Admittedly, this 50th college reunion left a sour taste in my mouth. In retrospect, I wish that during the panel I would have just ignored the carefully worded questions and simply replied that “I felt the call of the trumpet and I responded. Moreover, if I had to do it all over again, I would once more join the brotherhood of citizens that answered the call and fought for the honor and dignity of their country.”