After we celebrated the Fourth of July with a family barbecue, my 18-year-old son, Sam, shipped out for Marine Corps boot camp in San Diego. The idea of having a son in the military still seems strange, but I'm starting to get used to it.
When Sam first announced his decision, it seemed mystifying that my not-terribly-athletic, bookish son would decide that what he wanted most of all was to be a Marine.
My friends were shocked and offered plenty of advice -- he should see a psychologist; he should consider the Navy; did I realize how underhanded the recruiters could be?
But Sam never had an easy time at school, and he wasn't interested in college, at least straight out of high school. He wanted to be a Marine, period. Since he was a toddler, he's been fiercely stubborn, a child who did exactly what he wanted without much interest in the approval of teachers or parents.
For years, he read up on World War II and the Vietnam War and devoured war novels and fighter plane encyclopedias, though he had little use for history classes at school. It didn't occur to me what his hobby might lead to. We didn't know a single person who served in any branch of the military, other than the grandfathers who fought in World War II.
In some circles, Sam's decision might have seemed practical, even heroic. But in our liberal, antiwar sphere, his desire to enlist was met with shock -- even hostility. I wasn't really surprised at our friends' reactions -- after all, Sam's dad and I were initially opposed. We talked to him over and over about the risks he would face, the unyielding obedience he would need to summon. We spent the last year trying to inject some reality into his somewhat idealized vision of the military, but true to form, his mind would not be changed.
As the parent of a high-schooler, I had to answer the same question at every social event or Trader Joe's encounter: "What is your son doing about college?" That was a hard question, because though I didn't agree with him, it was still his choice, one he felt strongly about.
Often the reaction was pity or even anger. A friend with anarchist leanings pleaded with me to get him counseling. One mother stated firmly that she felt her job as a parent was to raise her daughter so that there would be no chance she would ever join the military. A few people warned that even though he had selected a noncombat job category, the Marines might still require him to face combat. Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because it didn't.
