War Splits Military Families: The Moral Authority Military Parents Lend to the Peace Movement Comes at a Price

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http://www.commondreams.org/headlines03/1024-01.htm

 

Published on Friday, October 24, 2003 by the San

Francisco Chronicle

 

War Splits Military Families

The Moral Authority Military Parents Lend to the Peace

Movement Comes at a Price

by Joe Garofoli

 

 

The first thing Anne Roesler does every morning is

check the Internet for news of the 82nd Airborne.

 

It's the same anxious routine followed by thousands of

American parents with children stationed in Iraq. But

with Roesler there's one major difference:

 

 

Anne Roesler holds a picture of her son while framed

by a sign made for a San Francisco peace rally in

February.

She passionately opposes the war fought by her son, an

Army staff sergeant with the 82nd Airborne Division.

 

If most military parents are consoled by " support our

troops " patriotism, Roesler and others opposed to the

U.S. occupation say theirs is a special isolation.

Yes, they support the troops. But when they oppose the

war, some people question not just their loyalty to

their country, but also to their children.

 

Roesler was communicating with other Bay Area military

parents until the war started. " And then several of

them felt that we had to close ranks (and support the

Bush administration) because that was what patriotism

was all about, " Roesler said. " And I said, 'Absolutely

not. That's not what patriotism means to me.' "

 

On Saturday, Roesler will join a small contingent of

military parents in an anti-war march in San

Francisco. The event begins with a rally at 11 a.m. in

Civic Center, followed by a march to Jefferson Square

Park. Along with a demonstration Saturday in

Washington, D.C., it figures to be one of the largest

protests since the war began in March.

 

Both demonstrations are drawing energy from parents

and spouses who go to the mailbox each morning hoping

to see a letter from Iraq, and go to bed each night

dreading a knock at the door.

 

In recent months, hundreds have joined organizations

like Military Families Speak Out and the newly formed

Bring Them Home Now. Several parents have publicly

shared the demoralization, fear and concern gleaned

from letters and calls from their children in Iraq. A

Pennsylvania mother made headlines in September by

shopping for body armor for her son after hearing that

the Pentagon wouldn't be able to supply every soldier

with updated vests until December.

 

Yet the moral authority that the voice of the military

parent lends to the peace movement comes with a price.

 

" There is a social pressure not to speak out,'' said

Judith Ross, a 57- year-old San Franciscan with a son

in the Marines. She is organizing a contingent of

families for Saturday's demonstration, but like many

military parents, she asked that her son's name not be

used so backlash about her activism wouldn't touch

him.

 

At one Washington, D.C., demonstration earlier this

year, a man approached Military Families Speak Out

co-founder Charley Richardson and told him, " You're a

disgrace to your son,'' Richardson said. He was

carrying a sign reading, " Our son is a Marine. Don't

send him to a war for oil. "

 

Asked how his son feels about his activism, Richardson

said, " We don't speak for him, but he supports our

right to speak out. "

 

In Saratoga, Roesler also asks that her son's name not

be used. But otherwise, her heart races and mind

wanders just like any other parent with a child in

combat.

 

Anxiety nearly paralyzed her from the moment her

25-year-old landed in the Middle East in February

until the first time he called her in June.

 

Her son is not a letter-writer; the only note he has

sent was scribbled on the back of an MRE box shortly

before the U.S. invasion in March. Roesler began

sobbing as she recalled the few lines on the back of

the makeshift postcard.

 

" He just said, 'I'm OK, I'm going to be OK, I'll be

home soon,' " Roesler said. " But I live in fear of

getting that knock on the door. I don't know what my

life would be like without him, but I refuse to

believe that anything bad is going to happen to him. "

 

The 50-year-old Roesler grew up in a military family.

Her father was wounded in World War II, and her

grandfather fought in World War I. Now, however, her

home office is covered with peace banners, bumper

stickers and a photo of her son in uniform.

 

When her son said he wanted to join the military, she

wasn't happy and she told him so. He didn't need money

for college, but felt he needed to have more structure

and discipline in his life.

 

Eventually, Roesler understood that and respected his

reasons for enlisting. Likewise, she said, her son

respects her activism; he has since he was in the

fifth grade. That's when somebody asked him what his

mother did for a living. He responded, " She wants to

save the world. "

 

" And it's become a family joke since then,'' Roesler

said. " Everybody says I want to save the world. "

 

Lately, she says, she's noticed a change in her son in

the phone calls she gets from him every five weeks or

so. He's been having tea with Iraqi families, trying

to understand their culture and the source of the

differences between the United States and Iraq.

 

He's told his mother that after his hitch is over in

2007, he wants to return to the Middle East as a

civilian to help the two cultures understand each

other better and " prevent all this miscommunication

that leads to war, " Roesler said.

 

Jane Bright's son joined the military three years ago

for many of the same reasons as Roesler's son. The

discipline. The structure. A natural leader,

 

Evan Ashcraft was promoted quickly, rising to the rank

of sergeant in the 101st Airborne Division.

 

A year ago, his mother began attending anti-war

demonstrations in Los Angeles, where she lives, hoping

to keep the war from starting and stop her son from

being sent to fight it.

 

When she failed and Ashcraft was sent overseas, she

continued to lobby to bring American soldiers home.

Mother and son never discussed her protests; she

didn't want her son to feel that she disagreed with

what he was doing.

 

On July 24, the Jeep in which Ashcraft was riding was

ambushed by a grenade attack. Ashcraft died instantly,

leaving behind his wife of three years. He was

supposed to come home this month.

 

A few weeks after Ashcraft's death, the military sent

home the contents of his pockets to his wife. " I don't

want to know what was in there,'' Bright said. " I

can't. It's too poignant. "

 

Instead, she will honor his memory by continuing to

speak out against the war that killed her son. No

matter what other people say to her.

 

" To me, " Bright said, " supporting the troops means

bringing them home now. ''

 

©2003 San Francisco Chronicle

 

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