We were fellow janitorial workers in the Co-Op Mall in Salmon Arm around 1984. This is from memory.
Roy asked me, “What were you doing in 1967?”
– “My folks took me to Expo ’67 in Montreal” [I was barely 20 in early summer of 1967. So was Roy that year]
– “I was in Vietnam. Me and a buddy drove to the PX in Saigon in a jeep. He was driving. The streets were just packed with people and so forth. We parked in front of the PX. I caught out of the corner of my eye something small and black dropping into the back of the jeep. I rolled out and crouched by the right rear wheel. Huge explosion. I get up. My buddy is just a mess all over the front of the jeep. I see a little girl about maybe 12 riding away on a pedicab. She must have tossed the grenade. I lock and load and fire. My first round opens her up but I give her the clip. So what does pacifist Jim think about that?”
– “But how many of your friends would she have killed if you hadn’t stopped her? There are no good guys in war, Roy. None. None. She deserves a medal for fighting for her country. You deserve a medal for saving your friends. That’s it.”
I was 18 or 19 in Grade 12 or Grade 13 in my high school History class in St Catharines Ontario. It was 1966 or 1967. I had the same History teacher both years. We were the A class. He was a real old dyed-in-the-wool Marxist labourite socialist. A great guy. I remember him very fondly. But I was appalled even then by his amazing ignorance about practical, technical things, real on-the-ground-you-were-there type of knowledge with which I was obsessed. I needed to know what it felt like to be there, at Gettysburg, at Balaclava, at Lundy’s Lane, at Agincourt ...
Mr Scheffe was talking once about a naval battle in World War One. He said the battleships had to maneuver the ship in order to aim their guns. I was quietly shocked that a History teacher like him would somehow manage to not know that 20th century battleships had rotating gun turrets. Another time he was saying that Marx had some good ideas, like “From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.” I put my hand up and asked him who he thought would do all this gathering and distributing. “Oh,” he waved his hand, “That’s a mere mechanical process.” Wow, I thought, just wow.
Anyhow. I’m remembering the moment in that classroom that stands out for me as a milestone in my life and echoes down the years to today and tomorrow. In '66 or '67 the warfare in South Vietnam was blazing all over the TV news channels. My Scheffe asked our class what we thought the war was all about. Was it for the purpose of stopping Communism as the Americans claimed?
As was his class rule, I put up my hand and stood up beside my desk and said, “Communism has nothing to do with it.”
“What is the reason then?” He asked.
I didn’t have any answer prepared. I considered for three or four seconds and then I looked up and said, “To prevent China from establishing a commercial empire in the Far East.”
His eyes literally flew wide open with shock and he gulped, “Good.”
I’ve recently been considerding that in those years our suburban house was subscribing to Time and Newsweek magazines which I eagerly read from cover to cover as soon as I got hold of them. I was also an eager follower of the TV news hours. So it’s possible I may have seen or heard the phrase, “Containing China.” I never thought then that neither my mom or dad were great readers, to put it politely. My dad must have subscribed to those magazines because I wanted them. I didn’t even think about that. I wish I could thank him now. I wish I could thank Mr Scheffe.
We were fellow janitorial workers in the Co-Op Mall in Salmon Arm around 1984. This is from memory.
Roy asked me, “What were you doing in 1967?”
– “My folks took me to Expo ’67 in Montreal” [I was barely 20 in early summer of 1967. So was Roy that year]
– “I was in Vietnam. Me and a buddy drove to the PX in Saigon in a jeep. He was driving. The streets were just packed with people and so forth. We parked in front of the PX. I caught out of the corner of my eye something small and black dropping into the back of the jeep. I rolled out and crouched by the right rear wheel. Huge explosion. I get up. My buddy is just a mess all over the front of the jeep. I see a little girl about maybe 12 riding away on a pedicab. She must have tossed the grenade. I lock and load and fire. My first round opens her up but I give her the clip. So what does pacifist Jim think about that?”
– “But how many of your friends would she have killed if you hadn’t stopped her? There are no good guys in war, Roy. None. None. She deserves a medal for fighting for her country. You deserve a medal for saving your friends. That’s it.”
– “How do you know all this stuff?”
I was 18 or 19 in Grade 12 or Grade 13 in my high school History class in St Catharines Ontario. It was 1966 or 1967. I had the same History teacher both years. We were the A class. He was a real old dyed-in-the-wool Marxist labourite socialist. A great guy. I remember him very fondly. But I was appalled even then by his amazing ignorance about practical, technical things, real on-the-ground-you-were-there type of knowledge with which I was obsessed. I needed to know what it felt like to be there, at Gettysburg, at Balaclava, at Lundy’s Lane, at Agincourt ...
Mr Scheffe was talking once about a naval battle in World War One. He said the battleships had to maneuver the ship in order to aim their guns. I was quietly shocked that a History teacher like him would somehow manage to not know that 20th century battleships had rotating gun turrets. Another time he was saying that Marx had some good ideas, like “From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.” I put my hand up and asked him who he thought would do all this gathering and distributing. “Oh,” he waved his hand, “That’s a mere mechanical process.” Wow, I thought, just wow.
Anyhow. I’m remembering the moment in that classroom that stands out for me as a milestone in my life and echoes down the years to today and tomorrow. In '66 or '67 the warfare in South Vietnam was blazing all over the TV news channels. My Scheffe asked our class what we thought the war was all about. Was it for the purpose of stopping Communism as the Americans claimed?
As was his class rule, I put up my hand and stood up beside my desk and said, “Communism has nothing to do with it.”
“What is the reason then?” He asked.
I didn’t have any answer prepared. I considered for three or four seconds and then I looked up and said, “To prevent China from establishing a commercial empire in the Far East.”
His eyes literally flew wide open with shock and he gulped, “Good.”
I’ve recently been considerding that in those years our suburban house was subscribing to Time and Newsweek magazines which I eagerly read from cover to cover as soon as I got hold of them. I was also an eager follower of the TV news hours. So it’s possible I may have seen or heard the phrase, “Containing China.” I never thought then that neither my mom or dad were great readers, to put it politely. My dad must have subscribed to those magazines because I wanted them. I didn’t even think about that. I wish I could thank him now. I wish I could thank Mr Scheffe.
Bomb shelters for millions of citizens?
...
And the cement and other materials necessary to do it? Not likely Israel would have let that into Gaza.