On Saturday, Sept. 8, Macalester invites you back for Clovis Ray Day at Macalester Stadium. Second Lt. Clovis T. Ray ‘99 of Three Rivers, Texas, died March 15, 2012, in Kunar province, Afghanistan. He was injured when insurgents attacked his unit with an improvised explosive device. A standout defensive back and linebacker for the Macalester football team, Ray leaves behind his wife, Shannon, and a five-year-old son, Dean Aaron Ray.
The death of any American in a war zone is a tragedy, and there’s no doubt that 2LT Ray’s death has left a hole in the lives of those who loved him. I’m glad that my alma mater is honoring his memory. His legacy deserves to be remembered and celebrated. That said, I find myself conflicted about how it can be that Americans so revere their warriors today, and yet so thoroughly reviled (and continue to ignore) veterans from my generation.
When I enrolled at Macalester in the fall of 1978, it was a very different place than it is now. America was just coming out of its Vietnam War experience, and the antipathy towards the military that had existed during the ’60s and ’70s was still ever-present. Those in uniform could never be certain as to what sort of reception they would receive in public. More often than not, it bordered on hostile. The “baby killer” image that defined the military in the eyes of so many Americans was still very much in vogue. At Macalester, that was even more true than it was nationwide.
On May 16, 1980, I was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the Army Reserve. While enrolled at Macalester, I’d also been enrolled in Army ROTC at the University of Minnesota. I was a month past my 20th birthday, and I was a commissioned Reserve officer. This milestone, something that would probably be widely celebrated today, was not well-received on campus. Few people made disparaging comments to my face, but when I wore my uniform on campus the looks of disdain and abject disapproval were impossible to miss. Because of that, I was very circumspect about wearing my uniform, which I normally only wore on drill weekends, anyway.
Macalester was a more Liberal place than it is today. Most of my fellow students were deeply suspicious and of the military and made no effort to hide their antipathy for it. No military recruiter could have set foot on campus without creating an uproar of righteous indignation.
The way I was treated was not enjoyable, but it was nothing like what others from my generation had to deal with. Soldiers leaving the service, many of them having served in Vietnam, were largely forgotten. Most made every effort to reintegrate to civilian life as quickly as possible and made little mention of their military service. I was part of a generation largely and willfully ignored by the nation. Many went to Vietnam when called to serve…and they returned to a nation that despised them for the uniform they wore. They were drafted, they served their country…and then they returned to a country which denigrated and downplayed their service as something to be ashamed of.
And then came 9.11….
America has become in a constant state of war for almost 12 years now, and thousand of Americans have served. Most returned, but many bore the sort of physical and psychic scars that will never fully heal. Many returned in flag-draped coffins…in the same manner that more than 58,000 Americans returned from Vietnam. Why, then, do we collectively value today’s warriors so much more than those from my generation? Regardless of your feelings vis a vis the relative merits of the wars in Vietnam, Iraq, or Afghanistan, Americans died in the service of their country. They didn’t have the luxury of weighing the political and moral value and rectitude of the conflicts; they were ordered to go, and so they went.
For a long time, I felt bitterness over the adulation heaped on today’s warriors…and the scorn heaped on those from my generation. Most Americans have no concept of what I’m talking about, because many weren’t even around during the Vietnam War. All they know are today’s conflicts, and they accept the reflexive genuflecting towards our men and women in uniform as de riguer. Flag pins on lapels, rote statements of gratitude for one’s service, and other outpourings of adulation and affection have really ceased to have any meaning. We’ve been at war for so long now that many Americans can’t remember what it’s like to be a nation at peace.
It would be nice if Americans could be bothered to remember that more than 58,000 Americans lost their lives in Vietnam, a war no one wanted. There’s a long black wall in Washington, DC, that recognizes and honors those who perished, but those who survived are still waiting for their service to be recognized as worthy. An entire generation of younger soldiers are receiving all manner of accolades and benefits because of their sacrifice…and that’s as it should be. Isn’t it about time we also recognized those who served in a different time and place?
