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Vietnam WarDraft Resisterthe story of SamSteinerThirty-eight years ago I was a new political refugeein Canada. On November 2, 1968 I obtainedlanded-immigrant status at the border crossingbetween Port Huron, Michigan and Sarnia,Ontario. Three days earlier, I had been indicted bya grand jury in the U.S. District Court inCleveland, Ohio, for failing to comply with anorder to report for and submit to induction intothe armed forces of the United States.How does a mild-mannered twenty-one year oldfuture librarian with an impeccable Mennonitepedigree get himself into a mess like this?Christian faith as expressed by Mennonites—withits implications for all of life—was central to myfamily of origin. My great-great grandfather, PeterSteiner, was also something of draft resister to militaryservice. Family lore says he escaped fromNapoleon’s army on its way to Russia and eventuallyfound his way to North America.The small church of that I attended in the 1950scared much about love and mutual aid within thecommunity. It cared about the eternal destiny ofthose within its midst and unsaved souls on variousmission fields. But it seemed to care less about justicein the society around it. We prayed for peace.We wished for justice to go with that peace but wedidn’t “fight” for justice.I attended Goshen College, a Mennonite school innorthern Indiana, in 1964 with an undevelopedsense of how Christian faith might constructivelywork within the larger secular Society. In highschool I had shifted from naïve faith to become theclass atheist. I also went to university as a patrioticracial bigot. Like all 18-year old American males, Ihad to register for the military draft on my birthday.I did so, but I did not register as a conscientiousobjector to war as most Mennonite youngmen would have done.However, six months after I registered for the militarydraft I underwent a political, if not spiritual,conversion. With a carload of other GoshenCollege students I planned to be a passive observerof a large civil rights march taking place betweenSelma and Montgomery, Alabama, led by CivilRights leader Martin Luther King. On that rideinto Alabama I finally became emotionally connectedto the visible injustice that has always beenaround me. For the first time I experienced internallythe underside of the American way of life.During that ride through Alabama, our carload ofuniversity students, one of whom was MiddleEastern, also saw hatred and distrust in the whiteeyes around us.When I returned to college I recognized I could notkill another human being on the basis of political(or economic) differences. I also saw the need tocombine social justice with my newfound (or rediscovered)pacifism. Belatedly I registered with mydraft board as a conscientious objector. I arguedthat life was inherently sacred, and that I did nothave the right—ever—to terminate another humanlife. I recognized I did not have the wisdom tomake that kind of decision.The political conversion I had experienced led toan activist phase in my life. I joined radical studentorganizations and participated in mass demonstrations.Gradually I became more involved in thedraft resistance movement that grew along with theVietnam War.Eventually I destroyed my draft card, which allAmerican men were legally required to carry, and Imailed the pieces back to the government informingthem I would no longer participate in themilitary system. Among other things in my letter tothe government, I questioned the use of death as atechnique for conflict resolution. I also questionedthe alternative service system, lovingly embraced byMennonites for decades. I believed “alternativeservice” simply helped the U.S. military system towork efficiently as Mennonites and other pacifistsperformed meaningless service that aided the“national welfare.” This led to the loss of my job.For one stretch I lived on Kraft dinners purchasedwith funds from the sale of my blood.I worked for some months as a supply clerk at ahospital in Illinois. Many of my co-workers wereMennonite young men who were putting in twoyears of “alternative service.” That was government-approvedcivilian service in lieu of militaryservice. Throughout the Vietnam war it remainedrelatively easy for young men from peace churcheslike the Mennonites and Quakers to avoid militaryservice if they stuck to the rules. For a youngMennonite this often meant having your pastorhelp fill out the relevant forms with the appropriate43