Script of film interview with Manfred and Buster, two American deserters.
copyright by Henri Dutilleux and Jean Boisard.
Somewhere in Europe
April 1967
reel 1
Max Watts, narrator: We are making this film about the different forms of resistance practiced by young Americans against the war in Vietnam. In the United States, some Americans demonstrate, some burn their draft cards, some don’t show up then they’re called to serve in the armed forces; these are draft dodgers. Of these draft dodgers, some go to Canada. We believe there are over 3000 there now. Others stay in the States and sometimes, on principle, go to prison like David Mitchell. Some object, as Conscientious Objectors--about 7000 have been recognized in the United States. All those less lucky are drafted, or sometimes even forced to volunteer. Even these, once they are in the military, sometimes resist and oppose the war in Vietnam, often going to prison rather than participate in this war. Since last year, since 1966, as the escalation in Vietnam has grown, more and more young Americans, particularly among those stationed in Europe, decide that they can do without the Army, that they do not want to participate in this war, and desert.
We are making this film, somewhere in Europe, under very amateur conditions because we must protect both the people who are in the film and the ones who are helping them. We are showing three people, three young Americans: first David, who is a Conscientious Objector who is against all war on principle; then Buster, who joined the Army as a volunteer but decided not to go to Vietnam; finally Manfred, who has been to Vietnam and decided it wasn’t for him.
Suppose we begin with Manfred. Now, I don’t want to sound like your top sergeant, Manfred, but could you tell us what your rank was in the Army?
Manfred: I was only a Spec/5.
Max: Isn’t that quite high? Most guys we get are privates.
Manfred: Well, it is quite high. What I meant was, I was not a NCO.
Max: Non-commissioned officer, for the civilians. And could you tell us a little bit about how it happened that you decided to quit the army, that you didn’t want to go to Vietnam again? I believe you had been there once already?
Manfred: Well...well, the reason of my sudden change of attitude about the army. I just didn’t want to return to Vietnam. While I was there, I just didn’t approve of the things that was happening there, so after I finish my tour there, they transferred me to Germany, and about a year later I was re-assigned to return to Southeast Asia, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it or refuse to go, except going to jail immediately, and so I had to take it on myself to leave on my own.
Max: Tell me, don’t you believe that you ought to be in Vietnam to help the Vietnamese fight against communism?
Manfred: No, I don’t think I should be in Vietnam to help the Vietnamese people against communism.
Max: Why not?
Manfred: Well, people should be free to choose what they like and what they dislike, and if they want this life or they don’t, it’s theirs--let them choose it.
June: What did you do in Vietnam? What was your action?
Manfred: You mean my specialty?
June: Were you a foot soldier, or--
Manfred: Well, when I first was there I was in the aviation battalion. Then they sent me back to America for additional training. I came back, they put me in a transportation unit, and I was stationed in Saigon the first time, and when I went back to America, they sent me back to Saigon for about a week, and then they sent me to Danang and, well, it wasn’t an enjoyable voyage.
June: Transportation was what? What did you do actually?
Manfred: Oh, well, the unit supported.. We supported the fighting soldiers with all equipment and food and ammunition etcetera.
June: What did you yourself do?
Manfred: Well, I drove a deuce and a half and a five-ten, and we had a job; we helped clean up the after mess of the infantry soldiers.
June: What does that mean, exactly?
Manfred: Well, like if every--calculating the fatalities, the bodies, take a few to the hospital, the injured to the hospital, taking food and things for the needy people etcetera.
June: So you had contact with the Vietnamese people?
Manfred: Yes. Well, not very close. I had only one very good, very close friend in Vietnam, and he was a Viet, and he was working with the army as a local national.
Max: And he wasn’t--didn’t he feel the Americans were doing a good job in Vietnam?
Manfred: No, he didn’t. He believe that the Americans shouldn’t be there, but he had to have a living, and so this was one reason for his work with the military, he had to have a living, so...
Max: Let me ask you a question. The famous American boxer, Cassius Clay, made a speech recently where he said, “No Vietcong ever called me a nigger.” And another American, I forget who, said: “Well, they’ll kill you if you’re black or white anyway.” Now what do you think? Which one of these people made more sense? You get the difference?
Manfred: Yes. Well, I think the first one made more sense because in Vietnam today they...well, for instance, when soldiers are captured, a white soldier and a colored soldier, and if they’re released and get to tell about their experiences, they tell the difference in the treatment, the Vietcong treating them, and it always comes out that the Negro is treated better. For many reasons.
reel 2
Max: Uh...now, David, you, as you said, you had it relatively easy. Why aren’t you in the army? Why aren’t you in Vietnam?
David: At the age of eighteen I was called for going into the Service, Civil Service as a Conscientious Objector. I was brought up as a Quaker in the Quaker tradition which is based on peace, and had the education, a peace education. When I was eighteen, I received my military papers and said I wanted to be a Conscientious Objector and from there I was accepted as a Conscientious Objector without very much trouble.
June: Isn’t it difficult to get accepted as a Conscientious Objector these days?
David: It’s hard, but it’s possible if...you are in a certain religious group, the Quakers, the Mennonites, or the Brethren. If you belong to a certain church, it’s very easy. Îf you go at it on other grounds, if you go at it on the grounds...that of humanitarianism or whatever, it’s much more difficult.
June: If Manfred had said that he was a Conscientious Objector, without one of those church backgrounds, he would have had a very hard time being accepted?
David: It would have been very difficult.
Max: What do you think about the fact that, after all, the United States is a country that says it’s religious. They put In God We Trust on the coins and so on. It is assuming that the great majority of people in the United States would consider themselves either Christians or Jewish, all these people have a belief in the Old Testament, and even more in the New Testament where it says that you shouldn’t kill. Jews and Catholics and Protestants. What is your feeling about this? And how come that still, you get an enormous majority of people that do not bring up any religious objections to the war?
David: Because, definitely, the world of today is based on war...and the history of the world, the history of our civilization is based on war. Any time you have a difficulty between countries, there is a power struggle. The only way we have found...I’m not saying this is the only way--but the only way we found to solve this problem is to fight it out, to use violence. Therefore, all our education is violence. And not many people know there is a choice, not many people realize that you can, you can maybe, solve a problem without violence on a big scale.
Max: Violence. Let’s see. You oppose all violence.
David: Yeah. I do.
Max: Do you think the Vietnamese should use this notion? Do you think the Vietnamese whose families have been killed in a bombing raid should say, “I shall turn the other cheek? I will not oppose this war. I will not fight against the Americans who have killed my wife.”
David: It’s a terribly difficult thing to say, I can’t say...for me, yes. But, of course, as you can see, it’s a terribly impractical idea in the world today, an ideal that I have to turn the other cheek and not fight is impractical because the world is based on war but...but it’s not impossible.
Max: Would you mind if I asked you a very personal question about this belief?
David: Go right ahead.
Max: Well, you’ve told us that you work in a Youth Center somewhere in Europe, and when the kids in the Center knew you would not fight, and they were a pretty rough bunch, they gave you a hard time, didn’t you say?
David: They gave me a hard time for about a month.
Max: And then what happened?
David: Now they accept me as a friend. And I haven't had any trouble for three or four months.
Max: But the first time that someone really pushed you, what happened?
David: The first time someone really pushed me I reacted in a normal way, I fought back. In the middle of the fight I said, “This is wrong for me,” and I stopped. Afterwards I explained to the guys--these guys are tough, they fight, the law of the group is “you fight.” Afterwards I explained to them, and for some reason, one or two accepted it and understood and since then they haven’t bothered me.
Max: Okay, we’ll come back to this point a little later. Manfred, let’s go a little bit into how you left the army and what happened next. Don’t mention any places because you know you’re not the only guy. You know, we are part of a group of people all over Europe, some of whom are bad bad Reds, others are religious, some are, some are just nice people who want to help other people who are in trouble. Most of the people who have been helping you--would you say they had any particular notion about the war in Vietnam?
Manfred: Yes, I think so, yes, the majority of people that has been helping us, they strongly oppose the war in Vietnam and, well, they aren’t like some of the Americans in the States, they’re against the war, but when it comes time for the action, well, everybody just cools down, but even in the States now the people are opening their eyes...mainly people actually don’t know what is going on in Vietnam, they know only from the papers, and the papers hide quite a few facts from them, and the only way you can actually know what is going on is from people with experience there, journalists, deserters etc. And once people are aware what is going on there, they can see into it a little farther and get their ideas.
Max: Well, now, let’s get into some of the practical aspects. You left the army in Germany?
Manfred: Yes.
Max: And then you came to another country. You can say that.
Manfred: Yes, I left the army in Germany, and I went to Amsterdam which was in another country.
Max: Cut! You’re not supposed to say you were in Amsterdam.
Manfred: Oh. I just thought I wasn’t supposed to say I was in France.
--Look, said the camera man. If he doesn’t say where he went to to get here, it doesn’t have much meaning as a film.
--But what about security?
--As long as they don’t know we’re making it here in France.
--Okay. How about you guys, you’re the ones we’re protecting.
--He’s gotta say it’s Amsterdam, said Buster. Otherwise it doesn’t make any sense.
reel 3
Max: Did you have much money when you got to Amsterdam?
Manfred: No, when we got to Amsterdam, we had no money.
Max: Had you been eating well?
Manfred: No. I had been, I had been starving except the one time we went to the military.
Max: The military? The US military?
Manfred: That is correct. We went to the US military and they fed us.
Max: They didn’t know you had split?
Manfred: No, they didn’t. They didn’t know, and they didn’t seem too worried about finding it out. We were just assumed to be soldiers on vacation. They accepted us as that.
Max: And when you got to Amsterdam? Tell the whole story. You can tell it between the two of you because I guess you were together at that time.
Manfred: Yes, we were.
Max: Then tell it together.
Manfred and Buster’s story of their desertion:
Manfred: Well...Buster and I went to Amsterdam with a green laundry bag. We had all our clothes stuffed in it, and it was...I knew a few addresses in A’dam because I had been there on vacation. But when I got there, I couldn’t find any of them. Buster and I just went walking around. Searching. And there was no luck at all. And it was almost one in the morning. It was terribly cold and we was hungry. Almost starving. So we went to the train station. While we was there we met some beatniks. Provos in Amsterdam. Who asked us where were we going? Did we have anywhere to stay?
We told them no.
They asked us were we deserters?
I said no.
But Buster said
Yes
We were.
And so they said,
Well,
We know a place
A place where you can go.
And they will take care of you
Tonight.
And we went,
And they took care of us,
And they arrange a place for us to stay,
And eat,
Until further advance for us,
And it was pretty well taken care of.
Buster: Manfred didn’t like...
He thought
The more people,
You know,
Knew,
The most chance we had
To get caught.
But I figured,
You know,
That people were friendly
In Amsterdam,
In Holland,
And they didn’t like war,
The war,
So maybe
They liked deserters,
American deserters.
Well,
Actually,
That’s what it came down to.
I figured,
Let’s try it
Once.
Tell somebody who we are
Actually,
And maybe
We’ll get some help.
Max: Did you think you could stay there permanently, so for a few months? What did they say about it?
Buster: Well, they told us we could stay there, but there’d be problems of papers, and they told us we didn’t have too much of a chance for receiving Holland citizenship.
Max: And would you have gone up to a Dutch policeman and asked him, or told him you were deserters?
Buster: That’s no way.
Max: You wouldn’t have done it?
Buster: No.
Max: Don’t you ever think it would have been simpler to go through with your service and go to Vietnam?
Buster: Well, they’re a couple of things that disagree with that. One, you might get killed over there, so you wouldn’t have anything anyhow. Another thing is that you shouldn’t do anything you don’t believe in, and right there--you shouldn’t do anything you don’t believe in.
Max: Do you think the Vietnamese believe what they are fighting for?
Buster: Sure. They’re fighting for their homes and, I mean, it’s just like in--when the English were attacking the Americans. It’s the same way.
Max: When the English--you mean in the Revolutionary War?
Buster: Right!
Max: I would have thought of when the Germans were attacking the English in World War 2.
Buster: Well, I don’t know so much about that.
Max: You know more about the Revolutionary War?
Buster: Sure. Everybody knows about the Revolutionary War.
Max: Would you have said this before you quit the army?
Buster: What?
Max: About people being justified fighting for their homes, like the Vietnamese.
Buster: Sure.
Max: Two years ago?
Buster: Right.
Max: You’d already thought of that?
Buster: Yeah. Because at the time I was taking airborne training, and that’s one reason I quit because they were starting up our unit that propels out of helicopters and everybody that was graduating at the time was going to go in the division, and everybody knew that the division was going over to Vietnam. So I quit. What I want to say...the army, they break you down to an infant and build you back up the way they want you. Just like a robot. They wind a key, and you take the orders.
David: I didn’t experience this. I’m not experienced like these guys, but I can’t imagine myself going into the army like that, and having someone, you know, telling us to go out and kill somebody. For my conscience I couldn’t do it.
Manfred: They don’t give you a chance to think.
I mean,
They think.
You’re supposed
Just to take
The ideas,
And they’ll work them out.
In certain groups,
Certain battalions,
They have different
Executive officers,
West Point
Executive officers,
While some,
They come
From
OCS.
West Point officers
Are the best officers,
But
I hate officers
Period.
I hate
The army
Period.
Buster: It’s a very bad situation where you have to be in
because sometimes you run across people that shouldn’t
Actually
Be in charge of nobody.
Like this one sergeant,
He had an IQ
Of 62.
The lowest IQ
In the Squadron.
Out at the grenade range,
Throwing dummy grenades,
You’d pretend like
You had a machine gun
dadadadada
Run up to the little shack,
Hide behind the wall,
Pull the pin,
Throw it in the window,
Wait
Till it goes off.
Hop in--
dadadada
Pick up the exploded grenade and bring it up.
So
This sergeant,
He’d pull the pin,
Give it a spin,
Toss it in--
dadadada
Hop in--
Look out, it’s alive!
aiaiaiaiai!
He hadn’t waited for it to explode.
It’s a small cap but enough to blow your fingers off.
You know,
He went nuts,
And he was supposed to go to Vietnam.
Max: Look, this obviously shows that very stupid people are NCO’s and officers but...I suppose...I mean, you probably wouldn’t have deserted in 1944 if you’d been in the army, and they were just as stupid then.
Buster: Well, I imagine I would have been put in jail just as often then.
Max: Yes, but if you felt you were doing something worth while...
silence
Max: If you felt it was, you know, “Well, we got to do it to beat Hitler”? They felt it worthwhile in those days.
David: For me, there isn’t any war that’s just. I don’t know what you guys think, but for me, it’s always the same thing; it never solves the problem. There’s no reason in it for me. I don’t know what you guys think. Is there a just war?
Manfred: Did it solve the problem then?
David: No, I don’t think it solved the problem to go to war, ever.
Manfred: I mean, you know, it’s the same thing in Vietnam.
Max: We stopped fascism.
Buster: Well, now we’re in Vietnam, so what good did it do?
Max: But Hitler would have been perfectly happy to keep on working his gas chambers and putting people in his gas chambers if nobody had stopped him.
David: Well, that’s not the point because it’s past.
Max: Well, you can learn from the past.
David: Maybe you can learn from it, but that’s all.
Manfred: Wars only cause people to hold grudges and later on they build up again.
Buster: Vietnam is just the same thing that Hitler was doin’ actually.
David: I don’t agree. I don’t think you can compare a man like Hitler with a man like Johnson or with an administration like the American government. No comparison whatsoever.
Voices disagreeing
David: None whatsoever. It’s not the same thing whatsoever.
Max: What would you say then?
David: I think the Americans have sort of an idea that the reason--that because we are a democracy that works, because we started out as one and that is what we are, that it can work all over the world, and we don’t see, we don’t realize that it’s not possible because people are different all over the world, and we try to force it on other people in this way.
June: When you say, “a democracy that works,” do you all think it works? How does it work? It may work for you, but it may not work for all Americans.
David: That’s true.
Manfred: Well, democracy, in my case, it doesn’t work. For the Americans as people. Speaking of individual people, it doesn’t work.
reel 4
June: It would be nice if you could give us some idea of what each of you feel are the risks involved in your decision. We know it’s risky once you go against authority. For example, David, what result will this have on your future life, just the fact that you are a Conscientious Objector?
David: Well, the fact will be that’s it’s not a popular position. I will have trouble if I want to go into government or politics. I’ll have trouble getting in, if I could get in at all. For me this doesn’t, this isn’t the important thing. In a way I feel like I’m doing more for the United States than if I were in the army. I feel I can do more in civil services, working with people, creating some sort of a--something good, instead of something bad in the army. I feel, in the future, for my future, the only thing I can say now is that I’ve taken a position of peace. In a sense, it’s not only against the Vietnam War; it is the pattern I want to live. It’s the idea that no longer can the world exist in war, especially with the atom bomb, Sure, I’m going to have risks, but that’s not the most important thing.
June: What about you, Buster? What are the risks, as far as you are concerned, in deserting?
Buster: Well, of course, I’d actually end up with about ten years in jail.
June: Does everyone who deserts end up with ten years in jail?
Buster: It depends what they can actually put on you.
Manfred: I would take a pretty grave decision about this whole thing. I really risk a very big risk. One, I left the army on orders and that could carry a year and a half itself. Two, I have a security clearance, and I really have very important information that could risk another two years. And if they find out I’ve taken any political aid from any type organization, that’s an extra two years, and they can easily prove desertion. But if I had to do it again--well, if I hadn’t been to Vietnam, I can’t say for sure, but having been, and knowing what I know now, I would do it again.
Max: And you think you can make your life again? You think that people will help you?
Manfred: Yes. The assistance I’ve had since I left America, people have been very good.
Max: We are going to keep up this work. We are going to try and help other Americans who are in this situation somewhere in Europe today, so that American soldiers who have decided to leave the army can find their way to people who help them. There are all kinds of people, religious, political, all kinds. Well, we do what we can, we don’t have very much, but we’ll share what we can with them.
Manfred: There are quite a few soldiers in the army who would leave if they just knew they had some place to go or a small amount of security, but they just don’t know this.
Max: Well, it won’t be no bed of roses. You shouldn’t get the wrong idea.
Manfred: No, it won’t be no bed of roses because we’ve had our ups and downs since we left--but, as I consider it, even my downs are a whole lot better than going back to Vietnam. And, well, another reason I don’t like Vietnam is I don’t want to risk the chance of getting killed either and, for what is my most important reason, I just don’t want to be there fighting those people, period.
Max: Well, we, among the people who are willing to help you, wish you the best of luck, and hope you will be able to adapt here and stay in Europe for awhile, and after the war is over, people won’t think what you did was a bad thing. Do you think you are a bad American?
Manfred: I don’t think I was a bad American. I wouldn’t consider myself American at all.
Max: Cut that!
Voices disagreeing and agreeing
Director: We’re out of film anyway.
Max: Just a minute. Do we have to end it there? I don’t want to come down heavy on this but--let me first get things straight with--
Director: We’re out of film. Finis.
Max: It’s not a good ending. Can you cut back?
Director: We can end with what you say about going back to America and just cut off Manfred saying he does not consider himself American.
Max: How about that. Manfred? I mean, we don’t want to come down hard on you, or tell you what to say, but--
Manfred: It’s your movie. I just say what I feel.
Max: You see, the point of this movie is to show people that it is not un-American to desert. Actually, the real Americans are deserting. That’s why we march with an American flag--to show that we’re the ones should have the flag. You see? So when you say you wouldn’t consider yourself an American, it enables people to cross you off, to say, “Well, if he doesn’t like it, let him stay abroad. We don’t need people like him in America.”
Manfred: I’ve crossed myself off.
Max: Okay, that’s a personal decision. But we are making this movie to inform people about deserters, about their feeling for America. Even legally, you can’t be considered a deserter until you publicly announce your intention of not returning. If this movie is ever shown, it will count as a public announcement of your intent not to return.
Manfred: I do not intend to return, period.
Max: Okay, okay, but don’t say so.
Manfred: He says he has a peace position. Well, I have an un-American position.
Max: Well, for chrissakes, don’t say so on camera.
To be continued...
To be continued...
