Book Excerpt: War College

Publisher’s Note – Two million Americans served in Vietnam and 58,000 of them died. At three elite eastern colleges, nearly 30,000 men graduated between 1962 and 1972, yet few of them ever stepped foot in Vietnam. Jack Dunne did. War College follows a road less traveled in Vietnam War fiction: a journey from campus to war and back, traveled by a student who served. Below is an excerpt from the book, by Westwood resident and author, Thomas A. Barnico.
 
Jack visited campus on leave in late summer, 1970. He had been away for ten months. His two-year enlistment was not up until the end of December, but the college president had arranged another special leave for him. President Onion’s recruits said they flew “Onion Air” for these unusual breaks.
 
Early in the morning of his first day back on campus, Jack drove to the Veterans Hospital. As he made his way up the long driveway, he thought about his many visits there and what Tiemo meant to him. His visits to Tiemo seemed less a choice than the work of magnetism: he was drawn to this man, and to his physical presence and wisdom, like iron filings to a magnet. Tiemo was a link to a father Jack never knew. When Tiemo spoke to Jack, his words touched something very deep in the younger man’s soul, words new, yet familiar, traveling across space and time…
 
Tiemo continued. “Meanwhile, the fires are burning here at home, too. President Onion and the governor both think that they are under siege. Sam just escaped that vote at the rink; how he pulled off that tie is beyond me. But the circus at the rink and the takeover of the administration building are really scuttling alumni support. The trustees are wavering, though the governor is solid. He is a trustee, ex officio, remember. The president talks tough, but doubts are creeping in: ‘How long can this go on?’ he asks me. But neither side offers a deal that the other wants. They want ROTC and all the other stuff gone but the president is not willing to bend the College out of shape. As I see it, he has two choices: he can concede on ROTC and Dow Chemical recruiting and all the rest for now, with a pledge that the protests cease. Or he can raise the stakes, arresting people until the students start to run out of money for bail and go home. But no one knows if that will slide the College over a cliff.
 
“I wish we could get you some help over there, Jack. Recruiting is still a slog. So says President Onion.” Tiemo paused. His eyes left Jack and drifted toward the window and the hills, as if he had heard a distant sound. He shook his head, as if to say, ‘No, no, no answers out there, not for me.’
 
“It’s not in my nature to second-guess the young guys, Jack. Even the conscientious objectors. Why shouldn’t they take the paths open to them? The paths of least resistance. The paths to a safe harbor. I knew what I signed up for. Some of us are born to do these jobs, this dirty work, and some aren’t. Some might ask, though, if they’re off the hook, why are they turning the campuses upside down? I think I know why.
 
“They know that some of you are in harm’s way. Even while they are spitting on the soldiers who return, that knowledge gnaws at them. They have made their choices, but those choices still bother them. They’re safe at home, but others like you are not. Guys their age are dying violent deaths. No wonder they want to tear down the colleges and the government. They want to strike back at the system that has condemned some to death and vouchsafed others. Why wouldn’t they work day and night to wreck it?” He paused, shaking his head from side to side, eyes bulging and wild, the black bushy eyebrows arched like bridges. “Who could sleep?”
 
Tiemo bowed his head onto his chest, breathed in slowly, then exhaled in one long breath as he sighed.
 
“I admire you guys who go. You know that. But I worry about your future. I can see the days ahead, long after I’m gone. Vietnam will be over and, God willing, all of you will be home. You’ll take your place among your generation and you’ll do all of the things that make up a life, the successes, the heart- breaks, and all the rest. But here is what I also see: There will always be a river, a mile wide and a mile deep, dividing the guys who went to war from the guys who did not. And nothing you can do will ever change that fact, or narrow that gap. And you shouldn’t even try.”