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Speaking Truth to Power
by Willie Hager
Winter Soldiers Past & Present: Passing The Torch --
A View From the Security Detail
A View From the Security Detail
 |  |  |  |  |
1973
2008
"Our mission was to rally around this new breed of
Winter Soldiers as they exposed their souls to the
American people. Not only as security support, but
as a personal connection for passing the torch from
Winter Soldiers Past to Winter Soldiers Present. We
wanted them to know they were not alone in this
painful struggle. We have been there, done that, and
it has helped us heal as Veterans and as a nation,
following Vietnam and Nixon." Willie Hager
Winter Soldiers as they exposed their souls to the
American people. Not only as security support, but
as a personal connection for passing the torch from
Winter Soldiers Past to Winter Soldiers Present. We
wanted them to know they were not alone in this
painful struggle. We have been there, done that, and
it has helped us heal as Veterans and as a nation,
following Vietnam and Nixon." Willie Hager
CRACKER SWAMP -- March 13-16, 2008 are dates that will not only live on in my heart, but
will evolve to be pivotal in the history of our nation’s involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan, and
the “War on Terror” in general. The occasion: Iraq Veterans Against The War’s Winter
Soldier: Iraq & Afghanistan hearings, which were held at the National Labor College (NLC) in
Silver Springs, Maryland.
I was privileged to attend this event in the capacity of security volunteer for Vietnam Veterans
Against the War (VVAW) and on journalistic assignment for VetSpeak.org. This event was a
milestone in a personal journey that began with the original VVAW Winter Soldier Investigation
in Detroit in 1971.
I first saw the '71 testimony on an old reel-to-reel projector when I was attending college on the
GI Bill. I had left the Marine Corps after serving ten years and two in-country combat tours in
Vietnam. And for the first time, I was witnessing Vietnam Veterans speaking truth to power --
exposing truths I had personally avoided since leaving the Corps. The testimony was riveting.
The faces and the eyes of the testifiers won my heart, their words won my mind. From that
moment on, I was in the revolution, heart, mind and both feet. The rest, as they say, is history.
And so it is, 38 years later, I find myself standing shoulder to shoulder in Silver Springs,
Maryland with my closest comrades from the early VVAW years in California: Jan Ruhman,
Calixto Cabrera, George Johnson, and Di Wood. Some of these folks I hadn’t seen since
1983, when I disappeared from their lives to return to my home state of Florida to wrestle my
personal demons. And now here we were, together again, in support of this historical event.
Our mission, as security volunteers at Winter Soldier 2, was to protect the IVAW testifiers as
they spoke their own truth to power. We rallied to counter real threats of disruption to the
hearings by a swift boat clone group of sunshine patriots calling themselves the Gathering of
Eagles (GOE). These wannabes had been circulating threats via the Internet during the weeks
leading up to Winter Soldier. The threats included endless media-wide insults to the service of
combat veterans from Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan with the blessings of the Grand Wazoo of
Talk; Round Rush, the Big Fat Idiot, himself. All of this, right out of the swiftboating handbook.
Our contingent also consisted of 7 other folks from VetSpeak.org; Russ Schiedler, Doug
Drews, Chante Wolf, Alex Primm (Alex is an original VVAW WS testifier back in 1971),
Cathy Primm (Alex’s wife and soul-mate), Billy X Curmano, and Dave Logsdon. We were
there with media credentials for VetSpeak.org, as well as being VVAW security volunteers. Our
VetSpeak mission was to record our individual impressions of the event for inclusion in our
upcoming book on the event, and for our on-line E-zine and blog, and to stand in solidarity with
IVAW on their mission of Truth. As it turns out; it was a milestone in each of our personal
journeys, as well.
We all felt that it was our duty to rally around this new breed of Winter Soldiers as they
exposed their souls to the American people. Not only as security support, but as a personal
connection for passing the torch from Winter Soldiers Past to Winter Soldiers Present. We
wanted them to know they were not alone in this painful struggle. We have been there, done
that, and it has helped us heal as Veterans and as a nation, following Vietnam and Nixon.
We want to help them heal from the ravages of the neocon revolution fomented by Newt
Gingrich and his band of congressional brown shirts; the revolution that ultimately landed us in
Iraq under false pretenses. And lastly, we wanted the new Winter Soldiers to know: we got your
backs.
Gathering for Security Training
Upon reporting in at the campus chapel for the 0900 security briefing on the morning of
Thursday, March 13th, it quickly became evident that we were working with more plates than
there were sticks; much like the jugglers on the old Ed Sullivan re-runs found on TVLand TV.
There were plenty of folks to set up single shift days, but the hearings were going to run from
0800 until sometimes 2100 each day which would tax our numbers, even figuring some relief
teams. But, what the hell! Everyone was up for it!
The chapel was crowded, and filled with faces from many years ago swimming into focus and
recognition, and our hug quotas were definitely met that morning! Three of the biggies that
were a major part of our emotional stability over our four day tour of duty were hugs, tears,
and smiles of joy from life connections remade after years of unknowing. It all began here at the
chapel security briefing and was an integral part of the matrix right on up till the last group
photo was taken on Sunday.
For now, though, Bill Branson, VVAW National Coordinator who had been saddled with the job
of recruiting the volunteer security force of old school VVAW types, was up on the stage of the
chapel and was undertaking one of the hardest jobs in the movement; organizing a roomful of
Veterans. Adding to the challenge was the fact that many had not seen each other in many
years. Bill’s job was to turn this bunch into a crack security group. The exercise of organizing
Veterans has often been described as analogous to herding cats. Bill turned out to be a first
rate cat wrangler on this occasion!
Shortly after Bill got everyone settled down and relatively quiet, the first order of business after
roll call was to issue the red security shirts. They were golf shirts which had the VVAW logo and
SECURITY boldly silk-screened on in white. Soon the room virtually glowed in a red haze of light
as the force became uniformed.
Bill led some security tactics training from the stage, and then we broke off into our assigned
security groups and began to practice some crowd control techniques…without tasers. Just a
little quick isolation and hustle-out activity for any one who managed to penetrate the several
layers of security that we were laying on for the testifiers.
Working The Front Gate
Our group was assigned to the front gate security detail. In the Corps, front gate duty was a
position of some honor. I think that we all felt the same now, as we heard our assignment…
nose to nose with the protesters; first line of defense for our younger counterparts giving
testimony inside. Everyone was pumping adrenaline at the prospect of assuming their
responsibilities as the protectors of the Speakers of Truth. This bunch was ready for anything!
Our assigned mission was to stand between the expected-to-come-on-Saturday GOE
demonstrators and the Winter Soldiers inside, and to deny anyone without some form of
approved credentials access to the campus. We were also to screen vehicles and all foot traffic
to ensure that everyone who came aboard was credentialed or accounted for in some fashion.
No one was allowed to just wander around at will. After breaking up from the orientation in the
chapel, our group was to begin our first tour at 1800 hours. We were going to do some dry
runs for the evening, figuring out our plans on how to keep traffic moving through during peak
flow time periods, without compromising security.
It all felt so right! The front gate detail consisted of several of our VetSpeak.org folks who also
shared membership in either VFP or VVAW, and in some cases, both. We also had a couple of
other old school VVAW types and young activist volunteers. The energy was palpable in this
small coalition of kindred spirits who had traveled from different parts of the country to be
together here; New York, New Jersey, Philadelphia, Missouri, Colorado, California, Florida, and
Wisconsin…and now, here in this place, and in this moment in history; we were bonding together
in our commitment to the new Winter Soldiers by working together with them to end this illegal
war in the near future, and personally passing the torch of the keepers of Veterans’ Truth, a
major tool in that effort, into their young, but seemingly very capable hands. A special bond that
I know we will each carry forward for the rest of our lives.
On Thursday and Friday, things were pretty routine as we worked out our personnel
assignments, traffic patterns, checked the lists twice, and memorized the different registration
badge designations. We developed and familiarized our selves with a routine that would be
respectful but firm. The weather was actually great; cool and breezy, but sunny. There were no
physical structures at the “gate”.
This was all accomplished with the energy of renewing long lost acquaintances out here on the
lines, coupled with the energy that was flowing out of the center where the young Winter
Soldiers were gathering to testify, and finally the sense of the awesome responsibility and
privilege we had in being a part of making this moment in history a success for the IVAW Winter
Soldiers.
The campus entrance was located on city transit bus turn-around just off New Hampshire Blvd.
It was a single, rather long, driveway that led down into the campus parking areas. We set our
detail up with a team spilt on both sides of the entrance drive leading off the circle, face-on with
the designated demonstration area. We set up two subsequent check points further down the
driveway to screen vehicles and passengers, and scan the periphery. We kept one team as
supernumeraries for break and meal replacement assignments, for monitoring foot traffic and as
a reactionary force, in case one was needed.
On Saturday, our team mustered on site at the gate at 0630, in order to get the jump on the
gate. As dawn came, we were already in full swing, moving incoming traffic along, as a small
convoy of protesters arrived in a couple of passenger vehicles, pickups with campers and a semi-
empty charter bus. Out tumbled a crowd of sunshine patriots numbering nearly 50. As they
unloaded, they put up a brave front as they tried to figure out their game plan. They were
restricted to a small grassy area that fronted up on the other side of the bus turn-around from
us. It wasn’t real big and it was curbed in the shape of a distorted parallel-o-gram. It probably
would have accommodated 250-300 people, and was, ironically, taped off with yellow crime
scene tape. Sadly for them, by the time the bus left and their support vehicles were parked,
there was only a very small huddle of around 70 people gathered out in the center of the parallel-
o-gram around a couple of guys who were waving their arms around and pointing.
This, apparently, was the best that they could muster -- even after all of that hyperbole on the
Internet and right wing blogs. We had expected at least a couple of hundred of them to show
up on motorcycles, but all we could see was a scraggly bunch, now stranded, all on foot, and
already checking their watches to see how many hours before the bus came back for them.
While I watched them try and get organized into an effective unit, I couldn’t help but begin to
see how surrealistically ironic this all was. With the importance and the gravity of our mission
setting in, there was understandably a lot of adrenaline seeping into the situation that lent to a
high level of tension. It was in this environment that the flash-backs to earlier times came, and
this all became a huge deja vu experience for me. Only back then we were the rabble at the
gate, and their predecessors were the guardians of a very distorted truth. A truth that
ultimately cost over 50,000 American lives in Vietnam. A truth not only based on a lie, but was
a lie, itself. Now, they were the rabble at the gate, and we were ensconced in an institution,
guardians of a very powerful Truth. A Truth that has cost over 4,000 American lives in Iraq.
And the beat goes on…
We were backed up with a full tactical platoon of riot police. They lined up a squad twixt us and
the protesters. Another great irony; the cops were on our side this time, Instead of macing us
and thumping us with riot clubs, they lined up with their backs to us prepared to wreak the very
same type of havoc that they had once wreaked on us, should get out of hand. It was all so
fucking surreal!
Obviously the police had also expected a much larger and definitely more militant turn-out. All of
this was having a direct effect on the protesters' morale as they milled around, lining up along
New Hampshire across from us, with their flags, signs, and banners. No eye contact, no
chanting. Not really much apparent energy at all. Finally around noon they rallied and broke out
the bull-horn. What appeared to be a Marine Corps Vietnam Veteran came down and spent the
next two hours bellowing insults and threats our way. Finally after working himself in to a
frothing frenzy, he tired and retired the field of battle, melting back into the ragged ranks up on
New Hampshire. By 1400 things were so quiet that the police stood down the squad between
our forces, leaving a couple of officers there as a show of force, just in case.
It was all kinda anti-climatic! They never sent a committee under a flag of truce with a list of
demands, as they claimed in their pre-op propaganda that they were coming there to do. They
never stormed the gates, as they claimed they might. They never penetrated our lines, as they
had threatened and planned on doing in their Internet rantings. As time approached for the bus
to return, they seemed dejected and dispirited, a sorry lot of sunshine patriots who rolled up
Glory, and then cast her on the ground along with rest of the gear ready for departure. When
the bus came, the Marine with the bull-horn shouted a few more insults at us. And then, just as
quietly and quickly as they had come, they were gone. We were left standing alone in the
drizzling rain as the police buses and vans rolled out behind them, our adrenaline slowly
dissipating. The day was ours; the testifiers had spoken unimpeded.
As things wound down, our attention turned to the proceedings in the main room. We quickly
re-adjusted our security paradigm to meet the current need. We were able to give folks longer
break periods, as our responsibility no longer required a full contingent on location at all times.
Some of the folks chose to go and sit in on some of the hearings. Others couldn’t bring
themselves to go inside, sit down, and hear the heartbreaking and infuriating testimony that we
knew was taking place in the main room. I was in the latter group.
Having lived the reality that was being exposed in the main room-only thirty some years ago in a
place called Vietnam-and still not having completely healed from it lo these many years later, I
didn’t know if I could handle the heartbreak of seeing the thousand yard stare in the eyes of
these young warriors as they poured their souls out for the world. The flash-backs that it might
evoke and the anger that it might stir up with-in me were major inhibitions to my desire to sit in
on the testimony. But, it was also knowing from personal experience the sacrifices in their
future personal lives of these young warriors had chosen to embark on that would have made a
grim experience even grimmer and more depressing than I thought that I could bear, under the
circumstances.
Passing the Torch
In spite of having not attended any hearings because of my work at the front gate, I felt the
energy flowing throughout the grounds while I was there. I met and talked with many of the
testifiers during the course of our stay and the performance of our duties. I was mightily
impressed with IVAW's way of doing business; focused and professional, and on message. I felt
like our part of the revolution was in good hands, and that our bond was solid As Sunday faded
into departure activities, I felt physically and mentally exhausted, but at the same time, strangely
fulfilled. All of us who were there; Winter Soldiers Past, and Winter Soldiers Present, did just
what we all knew that we needed to do: Be there, together, against all odds, and all threats and
intimidation, for each other; shoulder to shoulder and back to back as the new breed of Winter
Soldiers step off to carry the torch of Truth into history.
It don’t get any better than that.
Semper Fi,
WILLIE HAGER
Sgt., USMC, RVN, 1965-66, 1968
Willie.Hager@vetspeak.org
will evolve to be pivotal in the history of our nation’s involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan, and
the “War on Terror” in general. The occasion: Iraq Veterans Against The War’s Winter
Soldier: Iraq & Afghanistan hearings, which were held at the National Labor College (NLC) in
Silver Springs, Maryland.
I was privileged to attend this event in the capacity of security volunteer for Vietnam Veterans
Against the War (VVAW) and on journalistic assignment for VetSpeak.org. This event was a
milestone in a personal journey that began with the original VVAW Winter Soldier Investigation
in Detroit in 1971.
I first saw the '71 testimony on an old reel-to-reel projector when I was attending college on the
GI Bill. I had left the Marine Corps after serving ten years and two in-country combat tours in
Vietnam. And for the first time, I was witnessing Vietnam Veterans speaking truth to power --
exposing truths I had personally avoided since leaving the Corps. The testimony was riveting.
The faces and the eyes of the testifiers won my heart, their words won my mind. From that
moment on, I was in the revolution, heart, mind and both feet. The rest, as they say, is history.
And so it is, 38 years later, I find myself standing shoulder to shoulder in Silver Springs,
Maryland with my closest comrades from the early VVAW years in California: Jan Ruhman,
Calixto Cabrera, George Johnson, and Di Wood. Some of these folks I hadn’t seen since
1983, when I disappeared from their lives to return to my home state of Florida to wrestle my
personal demons. And now here we were, together again, in support of this historical event.
Our mission, as security volunteers at Winter Soldier 2, was to protect the IVAW testifiers as
they spoke their own truth to power. We rallied to counter real threats of disruption to the
hearings by a swift boat clone group of sunshine patriots calling themselves the Gathering of
Eagles (GOE). These wannabes had been circulating threats via the Internet during the weeks
leading up to Winter Soldier. The threats included endless media-wide insults to the service of
combat veterans from Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan with the blessings of the Grand Wazoo of
Talk; Round Rush, the Big Fat Idiot, himself. All of this, right out of the swiftboating handbook.
Our contingent also consisted of 7 other folks from VetSpeak.org; Russ Schiedler, Doug
Drews, Chante Wolf, Alex Primm (Alex is an original VVAW WS testifier back in 1971),
Cathy Primm (Alex’s wife and soul-mate), Billy X Curmano, and Dave Logsdon. We were
there with media credentials for VetSpeak.org, as well as being VVAW security volunteers. Our
VetSpeak mission was to record our individual impressions of the event for inclusion in our
upcoming book on the event, and for our on-line E-zine and blog, and to stand in solidarity with
IVAW on their mission of Truth. As it turns out; it was a milestone in each of our personal
journeys, as well.
We all felt that it was our duty to rally around this new breed of Winter Soldiers as they
exposed their souls to the American people. Not only as security support, but as a personal
connection for passing the torch from Winter Soldiers Past to Winter Soldiers Present. We
wanted them to know they were not alone in this painful struggle. We have been there, done
that, and it has helped us heal as Veterans and as a nation, following Vietnam and Nixon.
We want to help them heal from the ravages of the neocon revolution fomented by Newt
Gingrich and his band of congressional brown shirts; the revolution that ultimately landed us in
Iraq under false pretenses. And lastly, we wanted the new Winter Soldiers to know: we got your
backs.
Gathering for Security Training
Upon reporting in at the campus chapel for the 0900 security briefing on the morning of
Thursday, March 13th, it quickly became evident that we were working with more plates than
there were sticks; much like the jugglers on the old Ed Sullivan re-runs found on TVLand TV.
There were plenty of folks to set up single shift days, but the hearings were going to run from
0800 until sometimes 2100 each day which would tax our numbers, even figuring some relief
teams. But, what the hell! Everyone was up for it!
The chapel was crowded, and filled with faces from many years ago swimming into focus and
recognition, and our hug quotas were definitely met that morning! Three of the biggies that
were a major part of our emotional stability over our four day tour of duty were hugs, tears,
and smiles of joy from life connections remade after years of unknowing. It all began here at the
chapel security briefing and was an integral part of the matrix right on up till the last group
photo was taken on Sunday.
For now, though, Bill Branson, VVAW National Coordinator who had been saddled with the job
of recruiting the volunteer security force of old school VVAW types, was up on the stage of the
chapel and was undertaking one of the hardest jobs in the movement; organizing a roomful of
Veterans. Adding to the challenge was the fact that many had not seen each other in many
years. Bill’s job was to turn this bunch into a crack security group. The exercise of organizing
Veterans has often been described as analogous to herding cats. Bill turned out to be a first
rate cat wrangler on this occasion!
Shortly after Bill got everyone settled down and relatively quiet, the first order of business after
roll call was to issue the red security shirts. They were golf shirts which had the VVAW logo and
SECURITY boldly silk-screened on in white. Soon the room virtually glowed in a red haze of light
as the force became uniformed.
Bill led some security tactics training from the stage, and then we broke off into our assigned
security groups and began to practice some crowd control techniques…without tasers. Just a
little quick isolation and hustle-out activity for any one who managed to penetrate the several
layers of security that we were laying on for the testifiers.
Working The Front Gate
Our group was assigned to the front gate security detail. In the Corps, front gate duty was a
position of some honor. I think that we all felt the same now, as we heard our assignment…
nose to nose with the protesters; first line of defense for our younger counterparts giving
testimony inside. Everyone was pumping adrenaline at the prospect of assuming their
responsibilities as the protectors of the Speakers of Truth. This bunch was ready for anything!
Our assigned mission was to stand between the expected-to-come-on-Saturday GOE
demonstrators and the Winter Soldiers inside, and to deny anyone without some form of
approved credentials access to the campus. We were also to screen vehicles and all foot traffic
to ensure that everyone who came aboard was credentialed or accounted for in some fashion.
No one was allowed to just wander around at will. After breaking up from the orientation in the
chapel, our group was to begin our first tour at 1800 hours. We were going to do some dry
runs for the evening, figuring out our plans on how to keep traffic moving through during peak
flow time periods, without compromising security.
It all felt so right! The front gate detail consisted of several of our VetSpeak.org folks who also
shared membership in either VFP or VVAW, and in some cases, both. We also had a couple of
other old school VVAW types and young activist volunteers. The energy was palpable in this
small coalition of kindred spirits who had traveled from different parts of the country to be
together here; New York, New Jersey, Philadelphia, Missouri, Colorado, California, Florida, and
Wisconsin…and now, here in this place, and in this moment in history; we were bonding together
in our commitment to the new Winter Soldiers by working together with them to end this illegal
war in the near future, and personally passing the torch of the keepers of Veterans’ Truth, a
major tool in that effort, into their young, but seemingly very capable hands. A special bond that
I know we will each carry forward for the rest of our lives.
On Thursday and Friday, things were pretty routine as we worked out our personnel
assignments, traffic patterns, checked the lists twice, and memorized the different registration
badge designations. We developed and familiarized our selves with a routine that would be
respectful but firm. The weather was actually great; cool and breezy, but sunny. There were no
physical structures at the “gate”.
This was all accomplished with the energy of renewing long lost acquaintances out here on the
lines, coupled with the energy that was flowing out of the center where the young Winter
Soldiers were gathering to testify, and finally the sense of the awesome responsibility and
privilege we had in being a part of making this moment in history a success for the IVAW Winter
Soldiers.
The campus entrance was located on city transit bus turn-around just off New Hampshire Blvd.
It was a single, rather long, driveway that led down into the campus parking areas. We set our
detail up with a team spilt on both sides of the entrance drive leading off the circle, face-on with
the designated demonstration area. We set up two subsequent check points further down the
driveway to screen vehicles and passengers, and scan the periphery. We kept one team as
supernumeraries for break and meal replacement assignments, for monitoring foot traffic and as
a reactionary force, in case one was needed.
On Saturday, our team mustered on site at the gate at 0630, in order to get the jump on the
gate. As dawn came, we were already in full swing, moving incoming traffic along, as a small
convoy of protesters arrived in a couple of passenger vehicles, pickups with campers and a semi-
empty charter bus. Out tumbled a crowd of sunshine patriots numbering nearly 50. As they
unloaded, they put up a brave front as they tried to figure out their game plan. They were
restricted to a small grassy area that fronted up on the other side of the bus turn-around from
us. It wasn’t real big and it was curbed in the shape of a distorted parallel-o-gram. It probably
would have accommodated 250-300 people, and was, ironically, taped off with yellow crime
scene tape. Sadly for them, by the time the bus left and their support vehicles were parked,
there was only a very small huddle of around 70 people gathered out in the center of the parallel-
o-gram around a couple of guys who were waving their arms around and pointing.
This, apparently, was the best that they could muster -- even after all of that hyperbole on the
Internet and right wing blogs. We had expected at least a couple of hundred of them to show
up on motorcycles, but all we could see was a scraggly bunch, now stranded, all on foot, and
already checking their watches to see how many hours before the bus came back for them.
While I watched them try and get organized into an effective unit, I couldn’t help but begin to
see how surrealistically ironic this all was. With the importance and the gravity of our mission
setting in, there was understandably a lot of adrenaline seeping into the situation that lent to a
high level of tension. It was in this environment that the flash-backs to earlier times came, and
this all became a huge deja vu experience for me. Only back then we were the rabble at the
gate, and their predecessors were the guardians of a very distorted truth. A truth that
ultimately cost over 50,000 American lives in Vietnam. A truth not only based on a lie, but was
a lie, itself. Now, they were the rabble at the gate, and we were ensconced in an institution,
guardians of a very powerful Truth. A Truth that has cost over 4,000 American lives in Iraq.
And the beat goes on…
We were backed up with a full tactical platoon of riot police. They lined up a squad twixt us and
the protesters. Another great irony; the cops were on our side this time, Instead of macing us
and thumping us with riot clubs, they lined up with their backs to us prepared to wreak the very
same type of havoc that they had once wreaked on us, should get out of hand. It was all so
fucking surreal!
Obviously the police had also expected a much larger and definitely more militant turn-out. All of
this was having a direct effect on the protesters' morale as they milled around, lining up along
New Hampshire across from us, with their flags, signs, and banners. No eye contact, no
chanting. Not really much apparent energy at all. Finally around noon they rallied and broke out
the bull-horn. What appeared to be a Marine Corps Vietnam Veteran came down and spent the
next two hours bellowing insults and threats our way. Finally after working himself in to a
frothing frenzy, he tired and retired the field of battle, melting back into the ragged ranks up on
New Hampshire. By 1400 things were so quiet that the police stood down the squad between
our forces, leaving a couple of officers there as a show of force, just in case.
It was all kinda anti-climatic! They never sent a committee under a flag of truce with a list of
demands, as they claimed in their pre-op propaganda that they were coming there to do. They
never stormed the gates, as they claimed they might. They never penetrated our lines, as they
had threatened and planned on doing in their Internet rantings. As time approached for the bus
to return, they seemed dejected and dispirited, a sorry lot of sunshine patriots who rolled up
Glory, and then cast her on the ground along with rest of the gear ready for departure. When
the bus came, the Marine with the bull-horn shouted a few more insults at us. And then, just as
quietly and quickly as they had come, they were gone. We were left standing alone in the
drizzling rain as the police buses and vans rolled out behind them, our adrenaline slowly
dissipating. The day was ours; the testifiers had spoken unimpeded.
As things wound down, our attention turned to the proceedings in the main room. We quickly
re-adjusted our security paradigm to meet the current need. We were able to give folks longer
break periods, as our responsibility no longer required a full contingent on location at all times.
Some of the folks chose to go and sit in on some of the hearings. Others couldn’t bring
themselves to go inside, sit down, and hear the heartbreaking and infuriating testimony that we
knew was taking place in the main room. I was in the latter group.
Having lived the reality that was being exposed in the main room-only thirty some years ago in a
place called Vietnam-and still not having completely healed from it lo these many years later, I
didn’t know if I could handle the heartbreak of seeing the thousand yard stare in the eyes of
these young warriors as they poured their souls out for the world. The flash-backs that it might
evoke and the anger that it might stir up with-in me were major inhibitions to my desire to sit in
on the testimony. But, it was also knowing from personal experience the sacrifices in their
future personal lives of these young warriors had chosen to embark on that would have made a
grim experience even grimmer and more depressing than I thought that I could bear, under the
circumstances.
Passing the Torch
In spite of having not attended any hearings because of my work at the front gate, I felt the
energy flowing throughout the grounds while I was there. I met and talked with many of the
testifiers during the course of our stay and the performance of our duties. I was mightily
impressed with IVAW's way of doing business; focused and professional, and on message. I felt
like our part of the revolution was in good hands, and that our bond was solid As Sunday faded
into departure activities, I felt physically and mentally exhausted, but at the same time, strangely
fulfilled. All of us who were there; Winter Soldiers Past, and Winter Soldiers Present, did just
what we all knew that we needed to do: Be there, together, against all odds, and all threats and
intimidation, for each other; shoulder to shoulder and back to back as the new breed of Winter
Soldiers step off to carry the torch of Truth into history.
It don’t get any better than that.
Semper Fi,
WILLIE HAGER
Sgt., USMC, RVN, 1965-66, 1968
Willie.Hager@vetspeak.org
Di Wood & Willie Hager 1972