However, we also understand that there are NO prohibitions of the school and its board from implementing counter measures to military recruitment.

  español - 

Dec 17, 2025 / Rubicon & Griobhtha with Juan Idalgo / Crossing Rubicons - Sean was asked to write something for the National Network Opposing the Militarization of Youth. We have previously published reports on ROTC & JrROTC and military indoctrination and recruitment through schools: ROTC/JROTC in K-12 Schools: Laws, Problems, Ethics and Prioritization of ROTC/JROTC in K-12 Schools Due to Federal Funding Incentives and Patterns of Involuntary Enrollment

NNOMY has republished this report on their site. We encourage everyone to read the important articles and information which NNOMY has to offer, and to become involved. Schools cannot refuse to participate, especially in the current political climate, with ROTC without risking funding loss; and federal law prohibits schools from blocking access to military recruiters. This we understand.

However, we also understand that there are NO prohibitions of the school and its board from implementing counter measures to military recruitment. Such instruction can be synergistic with English, Reading, and Student Engagement (unvarnished history; moral, ethical, psychological reading and debates, study of the history and meaning in Just War Theory (History & Debate and Moral & Ethical Framework) If board members prioritize funding over humanity and care, that is moral fault and an ethical breach. Even if an educator claims to be unaware of the fault, it still lays shame and responsibility at their feet. Board members should be made to understand history regarding aggression and conflicts, and that:

The sole purpose of the military is to kill and support killing.

Framing Recruitment: Moral, Ethical, and Psychological Dimensions 

Challenge

Recruitment, especially in contexts such as the military or other high-stakes institutions, is never a neutral transaction. It is a process deeply embedded in the moral fabric of society, shaping not only the composition of organizations but also the identities and futures of those recruited. The essays under analysis, along with their internal references, forcefully argue that recruitment is not merely about filling roles; it is about the stories we tell, the values we transmit, and the psychological landscapes we cultivate. The language of honor, duty, and service—so often invoked in recruitment campaigns—serves as both an invitation and a test, challenging individuals to align their emerging sense of self with the collective needs of the nation or institution. Yet, as these essays insist, the true ethical challenge lies not in the call to serve, but in the methods by which that call is issued and the consequences it carries for autonomy, consent, and psychological well-being.

At the heart of the recruitment debate is a profound tension between societal wants and individual needs. The essays highlight how recruitment strategies often target adolescents and young adults at a critical juncture in their psychological development, leveraging their search for identity, belonging, and purpose. This targeting is not accidental; it is a calculated engagement with the vulnerabilities and aspirations of youth. The moral question, then, is not simply whether “service” is honorable, but whether the recruitment process itself respects the autonomy and psychological integrity of those it seeks to enlist. When recruitment materials present a sanitized narrative—emphasizing adventure, camaraderie, and glory, while omitting the realities of trauma, moral injury, and long-term consequences — they cross the line from persuasion to manipulation, undermining the very values they purport to uphold.

Moreover, the ethical landscape of recruitment is complicated by structural inequalities and the realities of socioeconomic compulsion. When military or institutional service becomes the most viable path to education, healthcare, or stability for economically disadvantaged youth, the distinction between choice and coercion becomes blurred. The essays argue that this is not genuine opportunity, but a form of structural compulsion that exploits the hopes and vulnerabilities of the young. In such a context, recruitment is not just a matter of individual decision-making; it is a reflection of broader societal values and failures. To interrogate recruitment, therefore, is to demand honesty, transparency, and accountability in how we invite individuals into roles that will shape lives and, by extension, the moral character of our society.

Interrogation

The act of recruitment is a crucible where personal identity, societal values, and ethical imperatives converge. These essays and their linked writings dissect this convergence with intellectual rigor and emotional depth, exposing the ways in which recruitment is both a formative psychological experience and a site of moral contestation. Recruitment is not merely a transaction; it is a formative passage that shapes how individuals see themselves, how they relate to their communities, and how they understand their place in the world. The essays argue that to treat recruitment lightly is to misunderstand its gravity, for it is at this juncture that young people are invited—or compelled—to align their personal narratives with the grand narratives of nation, duty, and sacrifice.

Central to the essays’ critique is the observation that recruitment campaigns often operate through the curation of stories—stories that inspire, but do not always inform; that honor “service”, but may romanticize war; that celebrate sacrifice, but rarely interrogate the systems that demand it. The psychological contract between the state and the recruit is thus fraught with unspoken expectations and conditional promises. When the reality of service diverges from the expectations set at recruitment, the result is not merely disappointment, but a profound sense of betrayal—a moral injury that begins not on the battlefield, but at the moment of enlistment. This betrayal is compounded when recruitment practices exploit developmental vulnerabilities, harnessing adolescent risk-taking and identity exploration for institutional gain.

The essays call for a civic ethic that prioritizes transparency, consent, and critical engagement. They argue that recruitment should not be immune to scrutiny simply because it is cloaked in the rhetoric of patriotism or national service. Instead, ethical recruitment demands that we confront uncomfortable truths about class, race, psychology, and national mythology. It requires that we teach young people not just how to serve, but how to think critically about service; that we align our methods with our values; and that we recognize recruitment as a formative experience that shapes not only individuals, but the moral trajectory of our society.

Moral Grappling

To grapple with the moral, ethical, and psychological dimensions of recruitment is to engage with some of the most pressing questions of our time: What does it mean to invite, or pressure, young people into institutions that wield the power of life and death? How do we balance the needs of the collective with the rights and vulnerabilities of the individual? These essays and their internal references do not offer easy answers, but they insist that these questions must be asked, and asked publicly. They challenge us to move beyond the binaries of pro- or anti-military, to recognize that campaigns for ethical recruitment are not attacks on service, but demands for accountability, transparency, and respect for human dignity, and to interrogate the motivations of service needs.

The essays’ rhetorical strategies—emotional resonance, ethical appeals, psychological framing, and civic engagement—are not merely stylistic choices; they are integral to the work of persuasion and reflection. By juxtaposing the language of honor with the realities of manipulation, by contrasting the promise of belonging with the risk of moral injury, the essays invite readers to see recruitment not as a settled practice, but as a site of ongoing ethical debate. In doing so, they open a space for civic engagement and educational campaigns that do not simply exhort young people to serve, but empower them to make informed, autonomous, and critically engaged choices about their futures.

Forms of Recruitment & Grooming

There are many forms of recruitment, propagandizing, grooming, and military solicitation. While direct military recruitment and direct involvement in schools are obvious forms, there are more far reaching and successful forms of recruitment:

• False flags and subsequent wars

• Movies, TV, Entertainment, books of glory & justifications — Lies And Damned Lies — Memorial Day — 4 July

• Video games — via ignorance ibid

• Religious Propaganda — Praying For Slaughter

• Bully Propaganda — John Bull, Uncle Sam, and White Feathers

  

   

• Female honeypots — “E-girls” (Alan MacLeod, MintPress News, From Simp to Soldier: How the Military is Using E-Girls To Recruit Gen Z Into Service , and Thirst Trap Nation: How E-girls Are Luring Young Boys Into Joining Army).

• Male honeypots (people who have never seen war pretending a manly parental figure): “Trust. Think about it. How many people have you trusted? How many people would you trust… with your life? When you were younger? Your parents? Your friends? When you grew up in a solidly patriotic town? When everyone around you saw the same “enemies”? When people with degrees and important positions assured you that your country is “the greatest country on Earth”? When no work is available? When killing is presented as “opportunity”?

  If your “teacher”, whom you “trust”, who presents themself as a “parent figure” to you, who self-presents wisdom to you, offers you the “opportunity” to join the military, who presents themself as an “expert” because they proudly had a father or grandfather in the military, in the “great war”, and they “wish” they could have participated, would you respond like this?

  “Mr. Mida I have spent most of my life dodging bullets and dodging drive-by shootings. At least now I can get paid to do it. I’ll be getting shot and killing at no matter if I enlist or not. At least over there I won’t go to jail for it.”

  This is an actual response provided to Sean by a teacher in our local school district. It was seen as positive and presented as an argument, a justification, an armchair warrior’s pride, a non-combat pretender’s excuse for patriotism and encouraging immoral attitude and behavior, and casually throwing the life of a young man to the Dogs. Kinda warms your heart, doesn’t it? To be considered so worthless to the system that you are encouraged to go kill to “make something of yourself”.”

• Financial honeypots — signing bonuses

• Unemployment — “When young, I loved nothing more than music… then sex and music. I took Boston (the band) to heart and I didn’t want anything but peace of mind and honesty over hypocrisy. When I graduated I wanted nothing more than to work, earn some money, and move to California. But the economy then was a sunken shit-hole with double digit unemployment, inflation, and every US corporation screwing Americans to manufacture products overseas in order to increase profits. Styx sang of that unemployment line, and Kansas told me to Carry On… But no work is no work and I began to wonder what the hell I was going to do on the Telegraph Road. While attending a polka fest (beer, bratwurst, dancing with pretty girls), I spoke with a just enlisted young man in the Air Force, and after much conversation thought I’d try it.” — Crossing Rubicons

• Legal sentencing: use of the military as moral education & training

• Application of glory: addiction

All of these presuppose an acceptance of country over morality, and of capital over humanity. In all cases the military is presented as an “opportunity”. All of this occurs in a country whose Founders, at least in moral thought, stated that a standing army is an evil and is anathema to democracy.

Here we will hear about Rubicon’s indoctrinations and fed lies. The perpetrators of this propaganda and lies are not necessarily the military alone, but the politicians, parents, and citizens who choose to remain ignorant of morals, ethics, and their own part in sending young men to kill before they even have a chance to establish a mental braking system.

If you fail in your responsibility as a Citizen, you fail your fellow Citizens, your country, and the world. You allow the corruption which will bring this country to its knees, and you allow your country to be beheaded by special and foreign corrupt interests. If you fail to stand witness and take heed of your own part, and you fail to correct and to push hard to take care of that veteran and his PTSD, you fail as a human. If you’re reading this, you must be an intelligent person (so-called). Ignorance for lack of information is understandable and normal, though still unacceptable; however, choosing ignorance when you have the information readily accessible or in hand only points to failing in yourself. By choosing ignorance you disallow yourself the chance to change and grow, to become wiser. By choosing ignorance you fail your children and grand-children. Your daughter may fall in love with a vet and not know how to help him; your son may never recover. You would like to think yourself intelligent enough to discern facts and outwit the scurrilous politicians, wouldn’t you? This work will help you do that. — Preface

Beginning

When you’re very young, you are so in search of knowing, yet naive, and will believe almost anything adults tell you. Later on you begin to discern falsehoods and lies, hypocrisy and duplicity; yet, you are still naive. To make matters even worse, you have no fully functional braking system in your brain until ~25, yet you are required at 17-19 to make major decisions about your life and future, about life and death. I don’t know if this is a joke, a way for nature to get you making moves and engaged in something before you realize how much it sucks, or if its a way to weed out the idiots, or, it’s a combination of all of these things, and more. So at 18 (and it has happened sooner), you are able to be trained to kill, expected to kill, yet you are still treated as sub-adult. You slowly learn how Presidents lie, Senators and Congressmen are bribed, and your country is involved in killing and supporting apartheid and right-wing dictators and oligarchy all over the globe. You learn the astounding quantity and depth of the lies, denials, and obfuscations that come out of Washington. But first, you are forced to cross rubicons and participate without real knowledge… they are in important positions… – they would never lie to me, would they? Hell was/is always everywhere else. We’ll discuss the problem with these later, but when young, you generally accept because you simply are ignorant of facts and they wouldn’t lie to you (would they?)…

“Young men entering life in this country, and countries around the world, know that they will be required to fight and die if demand is made, without choice or much chance at reprieve, and most often for lies and corruption that make up the worst part of every government or movement. Men of limited means or connections soon learn how expendable they are…

“When young, I loved nothing more than music… then sex and music. I took Boston (the band) to heart and I didn’t want anything but peace of mind and honesty over hypocrisy. When I graduated I wanted nothing more than to work, earn some money, and move to California. But the economy then was a sunken shit-hole with double digit unemployment, inflation, and every US corporation screwing Americans to manufacture products overseas in order to increase profits. Styx sang of that unemployment line, and Kansas told me to Carry On… But no work is no work and I began to wonder what the hell I was going to do on the Telegraph Road. While attending a polka fest (beer, bratwurst, dancing with pretty girls), I spoke with a just enlisted young man in the Air Force, and after much conversation thought I’d try it.”

— Crossing Rubicons, X Rubicon

“I realized that this would normally be a dangerous position, but I thought out loud, ‘How much danger could there be, we’re not at war.’ The Colonel chimed in, ‘Exactly’…”

 Origin of the Scout Program

Scout Program Commander & His Flunky; the Men Who Actually Performed the Work; and How I Got In This Mess

In the late ‘70’s AFSOC (Air Force Special Operations Command) desperately wanted to get into the special operations glory, but that glory was in firm control of the still rising star, Navy SEALS, and the older orders of Army Rangers and Green Berets. They knew they could not compete on the ground level with teams, especially given the love affair with the air combat role and officer pilots; however, they did feel that AF Scouts could act as commandos performing tasks where larger teams could not operate so well or at all. The Air Force, unlike the Army, Navy, or Marines, would never send an officer purposefully into ground combat. It was (is) a class system and AF officers were (are) deemed too valuable. Enlisted men and NCOs (Non-Commissioned Officers – Sergeants) on the other hand, were expendable and easier to produce and obtain.

The idea for the Scout program being formed high within AFSOC (why they chose the name Scout, I can only guess someone older watched a lot of Wagon Train), they needed someone with connections to be the “Commander” of this program. Enter Major Ian Fleming (not his real name, but his pretended character). Major Fleming had entered the AF Academy and graduated in the early ‘70’s. He was immediately stationed at a base in Oregon, and was immediately unhappy with that location and his duties. Being a friend of a few generals and Congressmen, he petitioned to open a search & rescue outfit at a base in Texas… petition granted. Then he opened another in North Carolina, and another, etc…

Hurlburt Field (Eglin Field #9) had a storied past. Jimmy Doolittle’s Raiders practiced there. The Enola Gay practiced there. Hurlburt was then home to the 1^st Special Operations Wing (1^st SOW) and the 834^th Combat Support Group (834^th CSG), which were part of the Tactical Air Command. Commando training and activities related with forward observers and forward air combat controllers was not a new thing for Hurlburt. Hurlburt is right on the Gulf (just across the highway), with thousands of square miles of forest, swamp, bombing range, etc… The Wing had support helicopters, transports, and MC-130-E Combat Talons (transports with retractable whiskers for grabbing Fulton Recovery System lines), and AC-130-H Spectre Gunships. These gunships were marvels of ingenuity (just like the Lockheed C-130 itself). All weapons sticking out the left side -- A 105mm Howitzer, a 40mm rapid fire Bofors gun, and twin 20mm Vulcan electric motor Gatling guns side by side. The front hatch was removed to hold a pod of multiple cameras and sensor array (the planes flew unpressurized). In a search and rescue operation the 20mm guns (one or both) could be removed and replaced with search light(s). Now, you can see videos of the inside of these gunships in and out of action, but back then, the electronics, cameras, and the Electronic Warfare booth were considered highly classified. The Talons and Gunships were kept behind wide painted red lines with few entrance/exit points, and MP’s with M16s constantly patrolled. If you were to attempt to cross outside the checkpoints, you could expect to be shot or thrown into a dark hole. Cameras were absolutely forbidden.

There was no better place for this Scout Program to land. Major Fleming was recruited to command and be a salesman for the program to those in Washington who made decisions. At first, there was no Executive Officer under the Major. Planning and execution was practically automatic within AFSOC, 1^st SOW, CSG, CIA, and the Scout. Later, Lieutenant Weasel (not his real name but his character) appeared as on-site second in command. The Lt was practically fresh from college and still smelled of ROTC, and completely full of himself and shit. He looked like Don Knotts, talked with a high-pitched squeaky voice, and believed he knew everything about rules and warfare that could possibly be known, and barked at people like an annoying terrier. It should be noted here that neither the Major nor Lt had any field or combat experience, anywhere, at anytime. The Major was a foppish character who believed himself to be like James Bond, even though he had never participated in anything at all. Later in his life he would write a book claiming (poorly) to have performed what his underlings had actually performed.

The NCOs for the program were not hard to find. Forward Observers and Air Combat Controllers who had been active in Vietnam were still around, and though older, they could oversee training and impart advice. One of those, who would become my trainer, and eventually my mentor, was Bill. Bill had been quite active in Vietnam, and he knew exactly what we would be facing. He had risen to the rank of Senior Master Sergeant (7 stripes), but after punching a Lt in 1978, he was busted to Technical Sergeant (5 stripes). They offered him a role in the Scout Program and promised him if he completed three years with it they would restore his rank and time in rank, and he would perhaps get another stripe making him a Chief.

In 1979 memos were circulated, including to AFEES (Armed Forces Examining and Entrance Station) induction centers, to search for recruits with certain skills sets. I had no intention of joining the military initially. Like any sane person growing up where I did, I wanted to earn money and move to California. However, the economy at that time was an empty turd. Everything had closed down, offered less, and unemployment went double digits, while inflation picked our pockets. One night at a Polka Fest (pretty girls, polka music, beer, and bratwurst) I met a guy on AF leave. I asked him how he liked it, and he said he did (but he was new to it). After talking for quite awhile, I thought, what the fuck, I’ll try it.

The first time (yes first) I attempted to join, was in the state in which I was then living. The recruiter sent me to an AFEES station in that state. After testing and a physical exam, I was asked certain questions, one of which was, “Have you ever smoked pot?” Well, of course I had. I knew this was going to be a sticking point, but I wanted to be honest, so I said, “Yes, but I’m not smoking now.” And that was it… I was gone. I even had to find my own ride back (4 hours).

Not knowing what to do, I went to live with my parents in another state (they had moved), and I went to see a local recruiter in the city in which they lived. I told him I wanted to join, and felt him out on the pot issue. He caught my drift and told me, “If they ask you, only say ‘I don’t smoke pot’; and if they persist with depth of time, still just reply, ‘I don’t smoke pot’.” I had also told this recruiter that I really wanted to fly, but that I understood that required a college degree and officer status. He told me in his best car salesman voice that it would be easy for me to get in, apply to Officer Training School (OTS), and I’d be flying in no-time (sales propaganda). That settled, he filled out my paperwork and sent me off to an AFEES station in this state in July 1979. Testing, physical, and questions. I stuck with what he told me to say, and it worked. We were then given a list of jobs and general locations to choose from. I chose aircraft mechanic and warm climates…

I was called into the AFEES’ Major’s office. He had noticed on my record from a background check that I had expunged records. He demanded to know what was expunged. I refused. He said, “You have to tell me.” I said, “With all due respect, I don’t. A Judge reviewed those records, found them to be faulty, and wiped them out. I don’t have to tell you.” He was quite irate and went to speak with the Colonel in charge. I was sent to the Colonel’s office.

To this day, I don’t know if what transpired was a setup, but nevertheless… The Colonel was more soft spoken. He told me he understood my position, and wanted time to consider the situation. He put me up another night in the hotel, and had me return the next day. When I arrived I was immediately given another special test to take. It seemed to be mostly about decision making and taking actions. Unbeknownst to me, the Major had spent his time contacting the local police where I had lived and had police records and notes faxed to him. When I arrived I sat in the Colonel’s office listening to the Major berate me as unworthy of the Air Force. He warned the Colonel if he let me in, he (the Major) would object vociferously. When he left, the Colonel sat reading the material that had been sent. It was not anything bad. No murders, robberies, etc… It was a bunch of things that the police wish they could have gotten me for, even things which I had never done, and had even started court proceedings, but couldn’t make anything work for them.

The Colonel put down the papers and stared at me with a warm and knowing smile. He said he thought I showed ingenuity and I had skill at deception (“not in a bad way!”) and a knack for stealth. He told me he would like to sign a waiver for me, and I started thinking Great! Then his countenance changed and he looked sad, and he said the Major could make a lot of trouble for him, but he thought he had a way for both of us to get what we wanted and the Major be damned. He pulled another sheet from a folder lying on the top left corner of his desk. He handed it to me to read. It was a “Classified” memo from AFSOC describing the Scout Program in terms that were rich but not really clear, but I got the gist. The Colonel proceeded to tell me they were very urgently trying to find the “right” people for these positions, and he thought I would be a perfect fit. He said my test scores were exactly what they needed. I realized that this would normally be a dangerous position, but I thought out loud, “How much danger could there be, we’re not at war.” The Colonel chimed in, “Exactly.” He was being so nice to me and I stupidly felt pride that he had let me read the “Classified” memo. I said OK, and he immediately pulled out the waiver and he signed it (he had it all typed up already). The Major was beside himself and attached a letter of objection to the waiver that would be brought up by Major Ian Fleming 2-1/2 years later in order to explain to me what a low-life I really was.

Beside Bill, three other senior NCOs participated. One as trainer to Jim, a field Scout who would end up spending much of his time in Africa (I believe). That trainer and the other two NCOs would go on to participate in training foreign troops (the other great function of special forces).

I have a Love/Hate relationship with Bill. He wore me into submission. He ran me into the ground. At times he seemed like such a sadistic fuck. He taught me to kill and accept it as, not right, but necessary. He taught me to subdue my panic, my feelings, etc… He taught me to stay alive under impossible circumstances. He cared whether I lived or died. He died in 1981 in a car crash.

When I quit, Jim was dropped into his first mission in Central America. He died on that mission. Jim had been one of the sweetest persons you could ever meet. Over time he gradually became paranoid and Rambo-like. I visited him at his dwelling once off base. He had guns stationed in key locations around rooms and even had his large knife in a sheath on the inside of his entrance door. It was sad to see a man so turned and twisted. (A Young Man Named Jim - “We’re Not At War”)

Major Fleming spent most of his time in Washington with his buddies. I’d be surprised if they never thought, “Don’t you have any work to do?” In 2-1/2 years I talked with him a total of six times – four of those were when I wanted to quit. Yet, when the hostages were taken by Iranian students, and it was decided to run a rescue operation, he was Johnny on the spot and begged his general friend for Scout participation, and it was granted. My life was to change forever. I was crossing a Rubicon. Oddly enough, later when they assigned a code moniker to me, it was Rubicon.

The Scout Program actively ran for approximately 3 years, later to be reborn under other command as Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) support, later becoming part of SOCOM (Special Operations Command). With these things in mind, let’s take a short look at the training and programming necessary to produce Special Forces in general, and a Scout in particular...

Middle

18 missions; >5000 dead; >300 direct kills

Eagle Claw — “On 4 November 1979, Iranian students and rebels, furious over the idiotic US decision not to turn over the deposed dictator (the Shah, which the US and Britain had helped install and prop up)... ‘Your account and observations about Operation Eagle Claw are all correct. Limited information was declassified and released publicly. Major ~~~~~~~~~ was never on the ground in Iran, but he was well connected politically and was able to make claims and assertions without repercussions. Others soon followed and the multitude of stories and ‘first-hand’ accounts by persons not there has flourished. There have been too many spreaders of disinformation, false names and narratives, but this actually serves the US interest in protecting still classified information, including your own, which serves the safety of yourself and others.’ — AD ODNI (letter to Rubicon in the book)”

Baby — “Leaving the baby was not an option. Government troops, who would be directed to the scene by the CIA, would arrive first to claim a success, and they would kill the ‘communist’ baby.”

Drugs of the Sierra Madre — “When the DEA learns to beg hard enough, the CIA may help; which they did in the Sierra Madre del Sur in southern Mexico.”

Nuns — “Reflecting on the fact that the CIA always knew how many would be in the convoys – and they knew ~400 would be on this one – it has struck me that they knew nuns were aboard this convoy, but they chose not to make this known or debate the issue. With the intelligence they had gathered, and with what they did share, it’s not possible they didn’t know.”

Trackers — “August is a tri-ality for me. It contains three of the major events in my life; two of which are extremely painful; the second painful, yet brought about a much needed resolution; the third event is the most happy, bonding, fruitful event of my life. They all exist within me. There were two missions in August 1981. This one occurred first, and while the second tipped the scales for me, it was this mission that irreparably broke and damaged me, for life.”

Puppets — “There was a central square with a small fountain. The streets branched from the center in four directions, and the fourth direction was toward my position and the road dead ended. The square and streets were surrounded by living and business quarters. On the street branch closest to me a native girl, all of 15 years old, her skin the color of rich brown-red molasses, danced in circles in a multi-colored skirt and white blouse with colored embroidery, proudly twirling her skirt. She looked so happy, and I felt happy watching her be happy. It was a beautiful scene and I thought it must be her birthday. She was so happy… Then a jeep (US provisioned) came barreling into the square, around the fountain, and came to a stop 10 yards from the girl. She froze, and still didn’t move when the two men, Salvadoran military, ordered her to stay. The jeep was provided to them by the US. The M-16s they carried were provided to them by the US. The .45cal pistols they carried were provided to them by the US.”

End

(As If — The beginning to Coming Down)

Up Against A Wall

People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.

Psychology and Alchemy – Carl Jung

Following the last mission, I could no longer justify what I was doing. The Salvadoran and Guatemalan regimes were clearly corrupt and evil. They couldn’t have survived without US backing and active CIA and military support. Looking around the world, and throughout US colonial history, the US made a habit of supporting right-wing governments and dictators. If locals got out of hand or demanded fair play, we sent in troops to slaughter the “socialists” and “communists”. Even at that time, the US all-out supported apartheid South Africa, just as they support apartheid Israel to this day, regardless of the slaughter taking place.

…The moment is a masterpiece,
The weight of indecision’s in the air,
Standing there,
The symbol and the sum of all that’s me,
It’s just a travesty,
Towering, blocking out the light and blinding me,
I want to see.

You can’t just quit in the field, you’d probably end up with a gunship round vaporizing your existence. No new orders had yet been issued, but I knew they were coming. At the time, I thought Bill was just on vacation. He had been gone longer than expected, but god how I needed him! I went to Lt Weasel and informed him I would no longer go on these missions. He was incensed and ordered me to continue. I told him there was no way I would ever go out again. He called me every derogatory name he could think of, and threatened to have me arrested, I told him to go ahead – his order was invalid. You can’t order someone to violate the law and the conventions of international law.

Then the shit hit the fan, in my direction. Lt Weasel called the Major. The Major flew down and involved all the base Commanders. The Major lectured me for 3 solid hours on integrity, following orders, communism, socialism, Russians, those “trying to destroy our way of life”, etc… He scolded me how our leaders knew best and we should do as we’re told for the greater good. The CIA knew who our enemies were, and we should take their word for it, even if it were wrong now and again.

The Major sent me to talk with the 8^th and 16^th Squadron Commanders, the Group Commander, and the Wing Commander. I told all of them the same, that I could no longer support right-wing fascists; that I could no longer kill on the word of another that it was the right thing to do, when all indications explicitly screamed it was the wrong thing to do. The CIA’s operational orders were wrong, a violation of international law. We (Americans) were slaughtering and killing the wounded for the sake of political ideology, secrecy (about our involvement), and to hand off successes to the inadequate and power hungry death squad militaries of foreign fascist governments. They were all very nice and semi-supportive, but all of them were of the pilot, kill from a great distance without guilt, guild.

And so it went,
The children lost their minds,
Crawling over bodies of those who gave their lives.

And the fists begin to throw,
And the fire starts to blaze,
Don’t you think they know
They’re the fucking human race?

They said the world does not belong to you,
You are not the king, I am not the fool,
They said the world does not belong to you.
It don’t belong to you.
It belongs to me!

And So It Went – The Pretty Reckless

I was sent to see a psychiatrist at Eglin AFB. He spent and hour with me, listening as I spewed out my problem with indiscriminate killing. Since he was a psychiatrist, I told him the details of the missions, the killing of wounded, the blood, the killing of unarmed civilians, and the nuns. The tears running down my face could have filled a lake. When I finished he told me that he felt I had a problem with authority, perhaps having to do with my father. I asked him if he got his diploma from a Cracker Jack box. I asked him if he had been listening at all, or was this some sort of boilerplate diagnoses specifically made for military use. He said thanks for talking to him and he would write his report.

When the report arrived, the Major and his yippy dog went to town with it, accusing me of failing to be a team member, of not following orders, of having problems with authority related to my father. I asked for a copy of the report and they gave it to me. Nowhere in the report was mention made that the subject (myself) no longer wanted to kill for ideology and profits. Though the DSM 3 published in 1980 had included PTSD as a diagnoses, and this information was certainly available to the psychiatrist (he had it on his shelf), no mention was made of trauma, killing, or death and the fact I didn’t want to do it anymore. That a trained psychiatrist with an advanced degree couldn’t see this or report on it spelled out the lengths the military will go to establish that nothing is their fault, that soldiers are faulted by there inability to “suck it up buttercup” and continue obeying assholes.

The Wing Commander asked if there were anyone else they could have me talk with. I told him that if there were someone outside the military, I would talk with them. Considering what was involved in the missions, it made sense that they sent me to the former Wing Chaplain, a retired priest. We spoke for a couple of hours, and while I couldn’t divulge all the information on the missions, I made it clear that I was being ordered to kill without cause and even slaughter the wounded, and that I just couldn’t do it anymore. I told him about the psychiatrist and his false report. He understood and pointed to a plaque above his mantle. It had a Latin phrase and he asked me if I knew what it meant. I told him I didn’t, and he told me, “Don’t let the bastards screw you… I can’t tell you what to do, but you have to live with yourself and your conscience… Don’t let them tell you what you have to do.”

When I returned to the Wing Commander, he seemed sad at my sticking to my refusal. He contacted the Major, and escalation of pressure mounted. I was given every dirty job to perform publicly, and the information concerning me was leaked to practically everyone on base. Soon, men that I’d known as good friends turned on me like rabid wolves. From these, and from the Major and his barking dog, I was called coward, commie, yellow, pussy, wussy, slacker, traitor, scared, chickenshit, and so much more. I was threatened with prison, and some said they should hang me or put me in front of a firing squad.

I felt so extremely alone. I wondered where Bill was. Lt Weasel wouldn’t discuss him with me. I asked around incessantly and was finally told that Bill had been killed in an auto accident. He was transporting firewood using a jeep and trailer, and flipped it on the highway and broke his neck. I thought of all he had been through in Vietnam and his life, and to die, that quick while moving firewood. I was never able to tell him about Kit. This hit me very hard, and I cried for days… now I really felt even more alone.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, the former 1^st SOW Chaplain was pushing hard to try and help me. Meetings were taking place in the background, and then I was called in by the Major to discuss my separation. Apparently there had been arguments about how far to take the punishment, and then whether to allow an honorable discharge. Also apparent was that the Major (my Commander) and his dog Toto were for maximum punishment and dishonorable discharge. Others argued against this, the Chaplain the most forcefully. What the Major offered was cruel and petty. He brought up the AFEES Major’s objection attached to my entrance waiver. He told me what a disgrace I was; that I shouldn’t have even been allowed to join. He stripped me of my medals and awards, save my Marksman ribbon, “to remind him of who he really is”. He said my DD-214 (discharge document) would be redacted in toto. If I didn’t agree to this, I would be given a dishonorable discharge. At that time, a dishonorable discharge carried heavier weight than now in the world of employment. Such a damning record was a blackball when seeking employment. I couldn’t take that chance, and I was alone in my deliberations, so I agreed.

While the paperwork was readied, I continued with public humiliation work, and received continued public repudiation. When I went to the mess hall to eat, I was left to sit alone feeling angry eyes upon me. During this time, Lt Weasel would constantly alternate between verbal abuse and being my best friend. When he was my best friend, he would relay to me how much the Major and he cared about me. He, and the Major, right up to the last day when I signed the documents, would offer that “all this could just go away… everything will be restored, including your rank and medals… this whole incident will just be erased… all you have to do is go back in the field.” This, after telling me how worthless I was and how I shouldn’t even have been allowed in – and yet, they still wanted and needed me to go and destroy willy nilly.

On the last day, I went in to sign the paperwork. When they showed it to me, my heart took a dive. The DD-214 had been stripped, completely. I had seen an updated copy previously, and now, it was empty. After all I had been through, to have my life reduced to nothing… No deployments, no awards, no citations; rank was gone; time-in-service reduced. I had been redacted from service. True to his word, the Major had left my Marksman ribbon, to remind me. And then, to top the shock, the reason for separation was listed as “APATHY – DEFECTIVE ATTITUDE”. This hurt more than anything. First, because it wasn’t true. Second, with this printed on the record, even with an honorable discharge, this document was useless to me for employment. They had taken away the accrued paid leave I was owed (from all the times Lt Weasel refused my requests for leave). I was royally screwed!

At this point I had no alternative but to sign. I missed Kit. I missed Bill. I received my copies and drove off the base, alone… so very, very, very alone.

Standing At The Wall, The Pretty Reckless from the album Death By Rock & Roll

I remember long before the sun refused to shine
If I had only known that I was out of time
But now I see
In front of me
Through my breath, I see its shadow over me

I am standing at the wall
It is high and I am small
All alone there’s no one to catch me when I fall
From the wall
From the wall

A lot of la-dee-da-da-da’s when we were young
With no memories to weigh us down and life was fun
But now I see
It’s over me
And my dreams are all for naught but lost at sea

But I am standing at the wall
It is high and I am small
All alone, there’s no one to catch me when I fall
From the wall
From the wall

You can build it up
You can blow it down
You can burn the world around it
If you lose it all, you will find it taller
And that you’re surrounded by the wall
By the wall

I am standing at the wall
It is high and I am small
And I hope the wind will catch me when I fall
From the wall
From the wall
From the wall 

Summary

The essays and their linked writings offer a searing critique of recruitment practices that prioritize institutional needs over individual autonomy, transparency, and psychological well-being. They argue that recruitment is not a neutral process, but one that is deeply implicated in the formation of identity, the distribution of moral risk, and the perpetuation of structural inequalities. By targeting adolescents and economically disadvantaged youth, recruitment campaigns exploit developmental vulnerabilities and socioeconomic pressures, blurring the line between choice and coercion. The essays contend that this is not informed consent, but narrative manipulation—a breach of trust that undermines the moral foundation of service.

At the psychological level, the essays draw on contemporary research to highlight the formative impact of recruitment on identity, values, and worldview. Recruitment is not just a transaction; it is a formative experience that can shape an individual’s sense of self, belonging, and purpose. When recruitment narratives are curated to inspire rather than inform, they risk turning recruitment into a form of cultural grooming, fostering unrealistic expectations and setting the stage for moral injury and disillusionment. The essays emphasize the need for critical education that empowers young people to interrogate the stories they are told, to recognize the full spectrum of truth about service, and to make choices that are genuinely autonomous and informed.

Ethically, the essays call for a fundamental rethinking of recruitment practices. They argue that to recruit ethically is to recruit transparently, to respect the autonomy and psychological development of individuals, and to align methods with values. This requires confronting uncomfortable truths about the intersection of class, race, psychology, and national mythology, and recognizing that campaigns for ethical recruitment are not anti-military, but pro-accountability. The essays advocate for a civic ethic that prioritizes transparency, consent, and critical engagement, and for educational campaigns that invite reflection, dialogue, and civic participation. In doing so, they offer a vision of recruitment that is not merely about filling ranks, but about building a society that honors both service and the dignity of those who serve.

The essays challenge us to move beyond simplistic narratives of patriotism and sacrifice, to recognize the ways in which recruitment practices can exploit vulnerability, perpetuate inequality, and inflict moral injury. They call for a recruitment process that is grounded in transparency, informed consent, and respect for autonomy—a process that acknowledges the formative impact of recruitment on identity and values, and that seeks to empower individuals rather than manipulate them.

The essays also highlight the importance of civic engagement and critical education in shaping the recruitment debate. They argue that ethical recruitment is not simply a matter of individual choice, but a collective responsibility that requires ongoing reflection, dialogue, and accountability. By framing recruitment as a moral and civic issue, the essays invite readers to participate in the work of building a more just, transparent, and humane society—one in which the call to serve is matched by a commitment to honesty, respect, and the full recognition of human dignity.

Ultimately, the essays offer a compelling vision for campaign and educational contexts: a vision that does not shy away from the complexities and contradictions of recruitment, but embraces them as opportunities for ethical reflection and civic growth. In doing so, they remind us that the stories we tell about service — and the ways we invite others into those stories — are not just matters of rhetoric, but of moral consequence. To recruit ethically is to honor not only the examined true needs of the institution vs wants and greed, but the rights, aspirations, and humanity of those who answer the call.

The moral, ethical, and psychological dimensions of recruitment demand a fundamental reexamination of how we invite individuals into service. Recruitment is not merely about filling roles; it is about shaping minds, identities, and futures. The essays argue that ethical recruitment requires transparency, consent, and critical engagement—values that are too often sacrificed in the pursuit of institutional goals. By exposing the ways in which recruitment practices can manipulate narratives, exploit vulnerabilities, and perpetuate structural inequalities, the essays call for a civic ethic that prioritizes honesty, accountability, and respect for human dignity.

In the context of campaign and educational initiatives, these insights provide a powerful framework for inviting ethical reflection and civic participation. They challenge us to move beyond the binaries of pro- or anti-military, to recognize the complexities and contradictions inherent in recruitment, and to engage in the ongoing work of building a society that honors both service and the autonomy of those who serve. In the end, the essays remind us that the true measure of recruitment is not simply in the numbers enlisted, but in the integrity of the process and the well-being of those who answer the call.

Source: https://griobhtha1.substack.com/p/beginningrecruitment-middlekilling