Axar.az presents an article, "Bring Back The Draft" by John Samuel Tieman.

I have a lot of family members who are veterans. I also have colleagues who are veterans. That makes me unusual. About 6% of Americans are veterans, roughly 1 in 20. That equals a lot of Americans with no connection whatsoever to the military.

I'm a Vietnam veteran. Every American in my generation had a connection to the military. If you didn't have to register for the draft, your boyfriend, son, nephew, neighbor or buddy did. I hate the draft. But I now favor drafting men. And now I favor drafting women.

A few years before I retired, I mentioned in my class that America was involved in two wars, Iraq and Afghanistan. A student looked up and said, “We're in two wars?” I did a quick survey. Of the ten or twenty students in that class, one had a brother in the National Guard.

As I write, the U. S. has troops deployed in Germany, Poland, Romania, and a few in the Balkan states. In the Middle East, we have soldiers in Iraq, Syria, Yemen, and Somalia. In the Far East, we have significant deployments in the South China Sea, Japan, and South Korea. Diego Garcia, an island in the Indian Ocean, supports long-range operations and regional security. There are a variety of other operations in Africa, the Caribbean, and Central America. This list could go on. I haven't even mentioned places like Wake Island. But how many Americans – that mythical “man on the street” – could name three places where troops are stationed overseas? For that matter, how many Americans can name three military bases in the United States? How many Americans are engaged with any of this?

I hate the draft, but I hate one thing more. I hate ignorance that threatens democracy and sometimes passes for patriotism. The Pew Research Center noted that, while Americans overwhelmingly say they feel proud of those who serve, 71% say they know little or nothing about the military. That same study found that 74% oppose reinstating a draft. Many of these same folks put “Support The Troops” bumper stickers on their cars, say “Thank you for your service” to a veteran, then think their patriotism is satisfied, their duty well done.

The burden of service falls upon a tiny fraction of society, with whom most folks have no connection. This ignorance insulates folks. I keep up with my old Nam unit, the Army's 4th Infantry Division. At the time that I was talking to that class that I mentioned above, young folks then in the 4th, who volunteered for six years, spent two, three and even four years in a war zone. So one kid spent years in Iraq, while another kid didn't even know there was a war. As for the rest of us, few were in any sense engaged. No one was rationed. No one paid a dime in war tax because we passed that cost to the next generation. One-half of one percent of our entire population served in uniform during these wars. During World War II, slightly more than one in ten Americans served in uniform. During Vietnam, it was slightly less than one out of twenty.

Our constitution provides for civilian control of the military. Civic engagement with the military requires knowledge, information. Our Founders presumed that part of that knowledge would be derived by the citizen-soldier. I hate the draft. I also hate that so few Americans can tell the difference between a corporal and a colonel. There is an alternative to conscription. We could become informed. We could become politically engaged. Municipal commissions are always looking for volunteers. As is the army. But I despair. Far too many people feel that cynicism posing as dissent is a form of civic engagement.

So I favor drafting both men and women. But my own opinion makes me sad. During the height of the Iraq War, I was watching “The NewsHour” one Friday. I again paused for that moment when, in silence, they showed the names and pictures of those who died that week in Iraq and Afghanistan. I'd grown accustomed to those stern poses of young folks in uniforms. But sometimes, when the military photo was unavailable, there was a picture of this kid at a ball game or a party. Nothing quite prepared me for one photo, a Private First Class in her wedding dress.