Poems and Thoughts    by Frank Maurer

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A Vietnam Memory. The war was waiting for all the young. I had read the New Republic which questioned our involvement. I joined the Cornell Quakers Youth Group and was soon elevated to President. This resulted in a protest march across the Peace Bridge into Canada. What to do? What to do? What to do? My choices soon became clear, if my number in the 300's came to the fore-- Become an A1, weaponless medic or ambulance driver-- Become a noncooperator and go to prison-- Or emigrate to Canada as a person-non-grata, with a price on my head-- Such decisions for a 19 year old were terrifying. I could well imagine the reality of each choice: Horrible death / isolation in a cell / or a stranger in a foreign land. The draft ended and my number never came up-- Relief, guilt, life continuing, finding work in a strained economy. I survived, but with mental scars which would last a lifetime. Frank Maurer 24 December 2023 1115 Hours.