PSU Magazine Winter 2005

MA UAL F r 11mBLR FELLERS t, t-1 D BUCK ERS frJP lT SCRV ( [ o. r. • ,; "'~ s- • • f ..... -. .J.ll« &T, OR ,r.OI The men learned their new and often dangerous trade from this manual. stories, and poeLry, which were disLrib– uted to oLher camps and booksLOres across the coumry. The camp was besL known for Lhis aspecL of iLs history, says Barber. However, few men actually participated in it, and when inLerviewed, some former camp residents said they had never known of the programs existence. Members of the fin e ans program at Waldport were later credited for con– Lributing to the postwar San Francisco Renaissance, which included the founding of City Lights bookstore, poet Allen Ginsburgs famous "Howl" reading, the citys th1iving independent theater community, and its general cu l– ture of war resistance Lhat continued into the Vietnam era. ln fact, one of the most important contributions of all World War 11 con– scientious objectors, says Barber, "we re the models and tools of resistance they offered to Korean- and Vietnam-era draftees ." I n almost every interview of a former Camp Angell resident , the subject explains why he became a conscien– tious objector. Barber and her students found that "most rejected military ser– vice clue to religious beliefs, but several became objectors because conscription offended their secular understanding of the rights of individuals." At the time, churches themselves experienced internal splits over the tenets of pacifism and held widely dif– ferent views towards CPS. Some saw the churches as forging a new alterna– tive for pacifists, while others felt the effort was a compromise that ended up isolating war resisters. "Despite their differences in philosophies and level of satisfaction with CPS," says Barber, "several narra– tors ex.press that their experience was one of significant personal growth– and most are proud of their decision Lo refuse Lo panicipate in war." -Kathryn Kirh/and ter WALKED OUT W en l entered high school, Lhere was a book called All Quiel on lhe West– ern Front. IL was a hist01y of World War l-full of graphic picmres of death, destruction, and how nations wasLed their resources fighLing one another. We had several neighbors that were in World War I. Those men sure did suffer. By the time l entered college in the fall of 1941 !University of Oklahoma], they took out Bible study as an accred– ited course. The freshmen in the uni– versity had to take ROTC for two years. They put in the draft, and l had read that you cou ld register as a con– scientious objector. When iL came my turn Lo regisLer, that is Lhe way l wenl. Eventually, l was drafLed and sent to a camp in Magnolia, Arkansas. [The Magnolia camp was soon destroyed by a tornado and Lhe COs were transferred to other CPS camps.] Waldport camp was run like the Magnolia camp. The Brethren Church furnished the food, and the government furnished the housing and the work. The boys were not paid anything for Lheir work. They fur– nished their own clothes, their ovm shoes, and Lheir own gloves. We were out one clay [on work duty], and we had a boy fall off the side of Lhe mountain. The doctor down in Florence looked at him and said LO keep him in bed a few clays and see if his injury straighLens oul. Well, the boy goL better, and he would go out and work. He would black out, because of his spinal cord injury. They wouldn't send him back to the main camp. They wouldn't let us keep him in the camp. They said he had to show up for work. That is when I decided to write Selective Ser\~ce and walk out of camp. l went back to Nonnan. The third day l was there, Mr. Bernier of the Oklahoma University police depart- ment wanted me Lo come in and take care of the switchboard . 1 told him that l was probably a fugitive, and he might not want me on the job. He says, "l know you; come in and go to work." l worked nights on the switchboard. During the day, l would plow on the farm and help dad get in a fal l wheat crop. About 40 days went by, and one evening the U.. Marshall knocked on the door. He took me to Oklahoma City and put me in the county jail. Evidently, they considered me a mean character. I had a $1 million bail set for me. l stayed in that county jail about two and a half months [before] Lhe U.. Marshall took me back Lo Port– land. I was sentenced to a year at McNeil lsland [Washington state]. They sent me on out Lo the farm camp, where there were 500 Japanese bors The men worked six days a week felling snags and planting trees at the Waldport camp. (Photos courtesy of camp resident Myron Miller.) and probably 20 or 25 COs who had refused to go to camp. All the honest ptisoners had respect for the Japanese boys and the COs. The Japanese weren't COs, but they would not go in the Army because their folks had been put in concentration camps. Some of them had brothers that did go in Lhe Army. They thought iL might help their parents get oul. My experience as a CO was \·ery good. I grew and learned an under– standing of my fellow man . I do not think the wars that the U.S. enters into are good. l think there should be a betLer way, but l do not run things. WINTER 2005 PSU MAGAZINE 7