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Pete Shimazaki Doktor
U.S. Army 1986-1989
Honolulu, Hawai'i
Contact Pete at: dok@riseup.net
Pete's Story
I was lured into the US Army by money for education, job training, and a naive sense of national service. After being tricked into taking the ASVAB “with no obligations,” I was coerced and screamed at into joining under false promises by recruiters. Having a father that had been a marine for 27 years and three wars, the modern-day military was exceptionally different from the military he had once known. In short, almost all of the things I was told I “should” get (e.g., location of station, education while active duty, getting a job in your field upon getting out, three-years-only enlistment, etc.) didn’t happen. Instead of working in a hospital, I was assigned as a combat medic in an armor infantry unit, turning more wrenches than syringes, and laughed at when applying for medical jobs when I got out.
Nevertheless, I tried to make the best of my time in service, and did my best as a soldier. However, that proved frustrating as my experience showed that those who worked hard received even more work, while those who slacked but looked good for inspections got promoted. And those who just slacked, well, not much was expected from them, except that they would just slack. I went from an award-winning soldier to a disgruntled challenge in the face of the double standards and favoritism of our unit.
Needless to say, getting out was the happiest and most productive day of my life. I served in a “peace-time” military, in that other than invading the sovereign nation of Panama and an innocuous Cold War, thus I faced no combat (other than constant fights in the barracks!). However, when I was recruited, the recruiter had never mentioned the 8 years minimum obligation or inactive reserves (IRR). Over a year after I was honorably discharged and living a fulfilling life, the US had manipulated an invasion into Iraq in 1991. I thought I would be reactivated for sure. I began to prepare myself for reactivation.
While awaiting orders, I was going to college, and wanted to know what and why I would be fighting. In short, I did a lot of research, and my conclusion was I would be a pawn fighting for political and economic interests for an elite, and not for “democracy,” “freedom,” or any of that popular rhetoric! In that process, it also became a catalyst for deeper questions on the nature and meaning of life. This led to a winding spiritual path, in which Buddhism became a major foundation in my life. I became a conscientious objector, although never formally because I was never re-activated (the military began relying more on reservists and guardsmen).
The Eight-Fold Path has served as a template for my life, where principles of non-harming and right work have led me to question the integrity of a military that is directed by politicians for narrow materialistic interests, versus a legitimate self-defense of one’s borders. The Dharma operates as a continual affirmation or challenge to any beliefs I may entertain, and serves as an inspiration in all my activities, be they professional, volunteer, or personal. Above all, it has empowered me to see transcend dualistic notions of “black” and “white” thinking, and appreciate the complexities and multiple perspectives and experiences. It inspires me to apply gratitude into selfless compassion, and reject judgment. While I embrace an ecumenical application of Buddhism, I am also a practitioner of Jodo Shinshu, or Shin Buddhism, largely through a community relationship with the Okinawan community in Hawai`i, of which I share ancestry.
I currently work at an inner-city high school in Honolulu, and occasionally at a Buddhist parochial high school. I am often invited to speak to youths about alternatives to military service, as the military largely serves as a “welfare system” for disenfranchised youth with little perceived opportunities. I do not tell people not to join, but expand the notion of “serving country” as well as alternative ways to fund college and what I witnessed in the military, so that they have more sober perspectives and options to make their own informed choice. I volunteer frequently with American Friends Service Committee-Hawai`i, which includes a grassroots group of caring citizens concerned about the proliferation of militarism into public education.
I am also a volunteer counselor for the GI Rights Hotline-Hawai`i, which supports the many disgruntled soldiers who have a variety of grievances against the military. We are also in the process of reinvigorating the Buddhist Peace Fellowship in Honolulu, of which I am assisting in coordination. I am also a co-founder of Hawai`i Okinawa Alliance, an alliance of Okinawan and Hawai`i demilitarization peace movements, as well as a member of Veterans for Peace. I hope I can be of service.
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Ted Sexauer
U.S. Army 1966-1970
Sonoma, California
Contact Ted at : t.sexauer@mac.com
Ted's Story
I was in the U.S. Army from 1966 to 1970, and served two tours as a combat medic in Viet Nam in 1969 and ‘70. I had changed my mind about the war and felt obliged to do something about it. I didn’t have benefit of or access to the idea of an organized opposition--I was encouraged by the civilian protest movement, but was frustrated that the war just went on and on despite it. (I only learned years later that there was organized resistance within the military.)
I felt a perhaps misguided need to take personal risk to bring aid to at least a few people. The experience cost me more than I’d ever imagined it would. My best friend was killed, and most of my friends were either killed or medevaced out. At the end, I was almost completely numb and very lost. There was great beauty and exotic grace in that country, but I can’t remember a good day.
When I came home in November 1970, I just wandered for about a year, and then took refuge in a relatively benign escape-”ism”, workaholism. In 1982 my world collapsed and I learned there was a name and a diagnosis for what ailed me--the isolation, lack of affect, obsessive memories and avoidance of dreams and memories, always being crisis-oriented: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).
I’m convinced that my cohort, so many Vietnam veterans, had such severe symptoms (among other reasons, but significantly) because we couldn’t talk about the dramatic things that had happened to us. And so I’m devoted to encouraging people to talk about their traumatic experiences.
I set about coming to terms with my condition then, and it’s been a very long course of discovery. Three things have been key: extensive psychotherapy, reflective writing, and Dharma study.
I was attracted to Buddhism by the calmness I observed in such visible practitioners as Gary Snyder, Jane Hirshfield, and some Asian monks I encountered in a peace demonstration. Beyond that calmness, practice has given me a framework of understanding of the workings of the world that makes more sense to me than any other approach. The principle of non-dualism is a great realization.
Now, I work for peace. Despite the healing I’ve done, since my “crash” in 1982 I’ve not been able to maintain a sustained working life, and therefore I’m rated 100% disabled by the VA. What I can do is to work at brief, more or less intense projects. (In January and February 2003, just before the war in Iraq began, I spent a month in Baghdad. In 2004 I monitored the presidential elections in El Salvador. Last fall, I spent about a month and a half doing hurricane relief work in Louisiana. I work locally in counter-recruitment and anti-war activities.)
I’ve always been a bridge person; I try to help opponents see the humanity in their opposites, e.g., GIs and peace activists. I strive to speak to youth from my own experience, marked as I am by the conflicts and changes I went through. I remember the various ways I changed my mind very well. Through Veterans For Peace and other connections, I speak to High School audiences frequently, sometimes with a counter-recruitment agenda, sometimes to offer first-person perspective to history and literature classes.
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