DIY History | Transcribe | Campus Culture | Student protests, May-December 1971 | 1971-05-08 Iowa City Press-Citizen Article: ""Aboard the Draft Bus--Reporter Has Role Reversed"" Page 2

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Student protests, May-December 1971

1971-05-08 Iowa City Press-Citizen Article: ""Aboard the Draft Bus--Reporter Has Role Reversed"" Page 2

"Reporter Has Role Reversed" cont 
P-C 5/8/71 
p.2 (of 2)

Bus 
From Page 1A

ing, someone let the air out of a tire and the bus limped away again. About 250 people stood on the sidewalk while another 15 or so, joined hands and danced in a circle in the middle of Linn Street. 
We'd waited about an hour when Police Capt. Richard W. Lee came in and told us the bus was back. the news was not greeted with jubilation. 
"Follow me, men" said Police Chief Patrick J. McCarney, leading us out a back door. He led the way down an alley for a block to the rear pf Police Headquarters, from where the bus was supposed to whisk us away unseen. The 250 from the sidewalk followed along behind. 
On the way down, a plain clothesman turned to me and said, "What a hell of a way to get drafted."
"He's not getting drafted" McCarney said over his shoulder. 
I was wondering what made him so sure. 
I found out when I tried to board the bus and McCarney grabbed me by the arm. 
"Are you with the group?" he growled. 
"Yes I'm here with the group," I told him and started to board the bus.
"You're not with the group," said McCarney.
"The hell I'm not."
We weren't getting anywhere. I started to pull out my military papers when our group leader told McCarney to let me go that I was supposed to be on the bus. 
"Geez, I thought you were just being a nosey reporter," McCarney said later. 
There was another fellow who has an even harder time complying with orders from his draft board. As our bus started to pull away we saw him being dragged toward the police station while he protested, "My name is on the list, I'm supposed to be on the bus."
The cops weren't listening. As he struggled with the police, someone from our bus yelled, "Hey ! Aiding and abetting a draft evader!"
Finally, McCarney ordered him released and he bounded for the bus amid cheers from the crowd. 
As we pulled away, two young men in seats across the aisle unfurled banners that read "Draft Kills" and "Draft Nixon Not Men." A copy of the People's Peace Treaty was passed around and most signed it. 
Then the seats reclined and the bus went silent. No one wanted to talk about the draft - and what else was there to talk about? I smoked a lot of cigarettes, stared out the window, slept and read. It rained most of the way. 
Because of time lost while the bus's tire was being fixed, we arrived late at Fort Des Moines. We were directed to a dirty red brick building and seated in a classroom to take our mental tests. 
An officer admonished us to do our best on the tests because, he said, the Army uses the scores to determine assignment and advancement. 
"I did well on my test," he said smugly. "That's how come I got this nice easy job."
There were a few snickers from the desks facing him.
After the test, it was a rush to fill our forms, get urine cups, place our papers in a neat pile and move on. Stripped to our shorts and wearing ridiculous paper shoes, we were told to follow colored lines on the floor as we moved from one examining station to another. 
At the end of the line, almost all of us from the Iowa City group were told we had been rejected, for reasons ranging from Hemorrhoids to homosexuality. I was one of those turned down - for high blood pressure and a fast heart.
More processing and back to the bus. There, it was a topsy-turvy scene. people were congratulating each other on their physical defects and wondering what to say to the few in perfect health. 
One relieved young man settled back in his seat and said, "Geez, I feel like I live in a free country again."
"Free for some people" came a response from across the aisle.

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"Reporter Has Role Reversed" cont P-C 5/8/71 p.2 (of 2) Bus From Page 1A ing, someone let the air out of a tire and the bus limped away again. About 250 people stood on the sidewalk while another 15 or so, joined hands and danced in a circle in the middle of Linn Street. We'd waited about an hour when Police Capt. Richard W. Lee came in and told us the bus was back. the news was not greeted with jubilation. "Follow me, men" said Police Chief Patrick J. McCarney, leading us out a back door. He led the way down an alley for a block to the rear pf Police Headquarters, from where the bus was supposed to whisk us away unseen. The 250 from the sidewalk followed along behind. On the way down, a plain clothesman turned to me and said, "What a hell of a way to get drafted." "He's not getting drafted" McCarney said over his shoulder. I was wondering what made him so sure. I found out when I tried to board the bus and McCarney grabbed me by the arm. "Are you with the group?" he growled. "Yes I'm here with the group," I told him and started to board the bus. "You're not with the group," said McCarney. "The hell I'm not." We weren't getting anywhere. I started to pull out my military papers when our group leader told McCarney to let me go that I was supposed to be on the bus. "Geez, I thought you were just being a nosey reporter," McCarney said later. There was another fellow who has an even harder time complying with orders from his draft board. As our bus started to pull away we saw him being dragged toward the police station while he protested, "My name is on the list, I'm supposed to be on the bus." The cops weren't listening. As he struggled with the police, someone from our bus yelled, "Hey ! Aiding and abetting a draft evader!" Finally, McCarney ordered him released and he bounded for the bus amid cheers from the crowd. As we pulled away, two young men in seats across the aisle unfurled banners that read "Draft Kills" and "Draft Nixon Not Men." A copy of the People's Peace Treaty was passed around and most signed it. Then the seats reclined and the bus went silent. No one wanted to talk about the draft - and what else was there to talk about? I smoked a lot of cigarettes, stared out the window, slept and read. It rained most of the way. Because of time lost while the bus's tire was being fixed, we arrived late at Fort Des Moines. We were directed to a dirty red brick building and seated in a classroom to take our mental tests. An officer admonished us to do our best on the tests because, he said, the Army uses the scores to determine assignment and advancement. "I did well on my test," he said smugly. "That's how come I got this nice easy job." There were a few snickers from the desks facing him. After the test, it was a rush to fill our forms, get urine cups, place our papers in a neat pile and move on. Stripped to our shorts and wearing ridiculous paper shoes, we were told to follow colored lines on the floor as we moved from one examining station to another. At the end of the line, almost all of us from the Iowa City group were told we had been rejected, for reasons ranging from Hemorrhoids to homosexuality. I was one of those turned down - for high blood pressure and a fast heart. More processing and back to the bus. There, it was a topsy-turvy scene. people were congratulating each other on their physical defects and wondering what to say to the few in perfect health. One relieved young man settled back in his seat and said, "Geez, I feel like I live in a free country again." "Free for some people" came a response from across the aisle.