Today’s television talk shows owe a lot to Phil Donahue. He pioneered the form with his eponymous show which aired for 29 years. Now, Donahue can add documentary filmmaker to his resume. Three years ago, at Walter Reed Army Hospital, Donahue met a young man who had been shot in the spine after being in Iraq for just one week. Donahue was so moved by Tomas Young’s story, he decided to film Young’s physical and mental recovery. Three years later, the result is "Body of War." The film was co-directed by Ellen Spiro (who was also the cinematographer) and features original music by Eddie Vedder. You can hear Bob’s conversation with Spiro and Donahue on Thursday’s show.
View the Body of War trailer and see photos.
Mr Tucker, I also was a 91F20 jan72-75 and of course went to BAMC San Antonio for medic91A10 a prerequisite for 91F,s.My barracks was located behind the "quadrangle ‘ very near to chambers pavilion. I may have sat in the same seat you did during training and yes it was a lt like mash when i PC,Sed to ftt jackson S.C. in late 1972.. We had rotating shifts,sometimes double duty when staff levels were low,which was the norm. When i found out my lottery# was 6,YES 6,i told my father to help me decide and at the AFEES station in Newark N.J. i said i wanted to be a psychiatrist,well after the recruiter stopped laughing,he said the best he could do was 91F20. Itook it. A test drive in psych was better than being a grunt,shot at every hour. And yes i took option#4 like you since by 72 they changed thr deferrment from any college time to 3 consequitave terms done,i was first term AND SCREWED!I opted for 3 years as USRA with the contract of first year stateside. I figured that the nam would be over by them,i was right! Applied with VA for job but wasn,t C.A.certified. Oh well,i had alot to give to my damaged brothers returning but sadly it never happened. I still regret it Yours,Spec 4 91F20 Richard Pepper.
I graduated from Nathan Hale High School in Tulsa, Oklahoma in 1965 along with 775 of my fellow baby boomers. I spent the next four years at the University of Oklahoma, protected from the Viet Nam War by a college deferement. The deferement was a trade off. If a draftable student (any male over the age of 18) remained in college, he was immune from the draft. Dropping out, flunking out, or graduating equaled imminent entry into the military. Prior to my graduation from OU in 1969 I had become opposed to the war in Viet Nam. Like Dick Cheney, Viet Nam wasn’t one of my priorities. Unlike Dick (and W.), hiding from the draft wasn’t one of my priorities.
The alternatives I saw at that time were: 1) To wait and be drafted. 2) To refuse the draft and go to prison. 3) To flee to Canada and become an expratriot. 4) to enlist. It felt like all of the options represented a form of incarceration. Either being drafted or enlisting constitutred incarceration within the military system. Going to to Canada seemed an equivalent to incarceration in that I would not be free to return to the United States if I wished to do so. I ultimately chose door number four. I felt that my incorporation into the military was the form of incarceration that was the most acceptable.
Although enlisting meant at least three years of military service instead of the two I would serve if drafted, enlisting gave me some choice as to the branch of service and, to a degree, the MOS (military occupational speciality) in which I might be trained. While the Marines offered a two year enlistment, I would have opted for prison if those were my only two choices.
As a budding bleeding heart, I had gotten my degree in social work. In exploring my enlistment options, I hoped to find an MOS that would allow me to help, rather than to napalm others. I was particularly interested in finding an MOS in a psychiatric setting. Not only might I be doing something that might help others, but it would also likely be performed somewhere other than in a combat zone. Sanity and war are mutually exclusive concepts.
After talking with recruiters, I learned that the Army offered a guaranteed MOS enlistment program for neuropsychiatric corpsman (MOS 91F20). A guaranteed MOS meant that if an enlistee had a sufficiently high GT (general technical) score on testing everyone entering the military had to undergo, they were guaranteed entry into the training program for that particular MOS.
I enlisted and was inducted on 3Oct69. After completing basic training at Fort Polk, Combat Medical and Neuropsychiatric Corpsman schools at Fort Sam Houston, I was assigned to Chambers Pavillion, the psychiatric ward at Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, Texas.
Working in Army psychiatry was a rewarding experience. Most of our doctors were draftees, and liked military service about as much as the majority of the one-hitch enlisted men like me. H. Richard Hornberger, the author who wrote the novel MASH, upon which the movie and tv series were based, served as a surgeon in the Army during the Korean Police Action. His book faithfully captured the spirit and attitude I encountered in the Army Medical Corps during my time of service. Providing good patient care was the top priority of most of the medical personnel with whom I worked. Military protocol and combat mission were very low priorities, especially when they conflicted with good patient care. The motto of the Army Medical Corps was, "Preserve the Fighting Strength." On my traning manuals I marked out the word strength and replaced it with "stench."As a soldier, the sense of commitment I felt was to the warriors, not to the war.
I liked most of my experience in the military. I would not trade or have forgone that experience, if I could go back and do things differently. Although I wasn’t particularly a fan of John F. Kennedy, I do agree with the spirit of his 1961 inaugural statement, "…ask not what your country can do for you — ask what can you do for your country." I feel that serving in the Army was giving back to my country, but more importantly, giving something to my fellow warriors.
What I never anticipated when I enlisted, was that my commitment to my fellow warriors would not end with my discharge in 1972. In the ensuing years I have worked in a variety of psychiatric settings. Many of my clients have been veterans. A number of those veterans were psychological casualties of the wars in which they served. I deal almost daily with men and women who suffer from PTSD as a result of their military experience. Even prior to our invasion of Iraq, it was my observation that many of the veterans who served their country, were inadequately served by their country. It’s as if the modern version of the Kennedy speech is, "ask what you can do for your country, but don’t expect too much in return."
I participated in a peace march the week we invaded Iraq. I opposed the war for many reasons, but most importantly because I know that war generates casualties. Those casualties are not limited to the combatants, but also include their loved ones, the inhabitants of war zones, and others affected in unforeseeable ways, such as children born to people exposed to Agent Orange. Our best efforts can never heal the wounds of war, and America has fallen short of making our best possible effort to treat the casualties of war.
I do not believe that anyone ever "wins" a war; one side just loses less than the other. I am not a "peace at any cost" type person. I do however believe in war only as a last resort.