canada

On one hand, Jack Todd's story is a good one. He tells it well. While I respect (and was stirred) by his apparent honesty and bearing of some stupid decisions, I can't say I really liked him. His vagaries and depression and struggles were moving, but for some reason I wasn't entirely convinced of his desertion-on-moral grounds rationale. He justifies it with a series of rants that seem to ring a little hollow. I wish they didn't.

Although the war was wrong, I have a hard time accepting the notion that it's better to desert than to sell-out behind a desk in a comfortable army post in Germany.

Like the rest of us, Jack Todd is both courageous and cowardly. At times I felt as conflicted as he was . . . wanting to second-guess him. I felt sorry for him on one page and got angry at him the next.

One more thing: I felt a chapter was missing that explained how he got from low-rent writing to Montreal columnist.

Between 50,000 and 100,000 young men and women fled northward to Canada during the Vietnam War era. Yet, their voices have remained largely silent during the past three decades while a significant body of literature concerning the war experience has been evolving. Jack Todd has broken that silence with the publication of Desertion: In the Time of Vietnam, a moving memoir of a young man who followed his conscience to Canada in 1970 and waged his own private "war" as an exile in search of himself in an unknown land.

This intensely personal account follows Todd from childhood growing up in a small Nebraska town to a promising career at the Miami Herald to basic training at Fort Lewis, Washington. Six weeks into basic training, Todd begins to contemplate flight northward as the dehumanization of the military experience and a growing antiwar conviction convince him to reluctantly leave his country. The decision is not made without Todd's painful acknowledgement of loss ("family, country, career, the woman I love") and moral agonizing over leaving his homeland of 23 years ("It's not that I live in America or that I am American. We are indistinguishable. You grow up the way I did, you don't know where your country leaves off and you start."). Ambivalence haunts him ("One instant I'm leaning one way, the next moment I've swung in the opposite direction. It's like watching a compass needle waver back and froth, back and forth, until it settles on true north.") until the morning early in 1970 when a friend escorts him over the Canadian border to freedom, and there is no turning back.

The memoir concentrates primarily on Todd's life as an exile in a country "that is so much like home that every morning when you get up you have to remind yourself that this is not home, that home is now a place where you can no longer go." Starting in Vancouver he drifts from city to city, on the verge of homelessness much of the time, never staying in any one place long enough to make lasting relationships or discover the security of stability. "The only constant seems to be this endless flight, running on and on and getting no place at all," he writes.

Even as Todd attempts to create a new life in this strange territory, he struggles to write about the exile experience in prose that is both poetic and poignant. "I worry at the theme of exile," he writes, "the meaning of existence on what is, for me in this endless winter, the wrong side of a three thousand-mile border."

By the time the war ends in 1975 Todd feels as if he has been "fighting it one way or another" for the past eight years since becoming a "late convert to the antiwar movement in 1967." Although draft dodgers and deserters are granted amnesty after the war, "it is too late for me," writes a deeply regretful Todd, who earlier made the "absurd decision" to renounce his American citizenship during a period of deep disillusionment. "I have given up my country, my citizenship, my profession, my family, my belief in myself, my true love, everything but my life. For this I will be called a coward," he writes, "and perhaps the people who say that are right. I feel it's the hardest, bravest thing I ever did, but it's not for me to judge." Todd stops short of claiming to be a casualty of war, but does place himself among many others of his generation who were "very different people after we had passed through that fire."

Today Todd is an award-winning journalist for the Montreal Gazette who has "spent half a life on each side of the border" and feels both American and Canadian "in roughly equal parts," although the Wildcat Hills of Nebraska, where he returns to visit as an outsider, will always be considered home "even if there aren't too many people out here who would care to claim me."

Todd's compelling story has waited more than a quarter of a century to be told and undoubtedly took much courage to write. Desertion is a different kind of war story than many that are included in the Vietnam War literary canon, but it is nevertheless a war story. Breaking the silence of desertion, Todd has created a story of conscience, bravery, remorse, and ultimately, hope.

Toward the end of his treacly memoir, Jack Todd lists all the things he lost when he deserted the Army and fled the country during the Vietnam War, or as he so euphemistically moans, was "forced into exile". Country. Citizenship. Profession. Family. Love. He acknowledges that he will be called a coward and perhaps "... the people who say that are right". Well, if the shoe fits, wear it.

Todd aspired to be a Marine Corps officer but couldn't handle the training and washed out within weeks. Like so many spurned lovers his ardor turns to hatred. He makes an obscene parody of the Marine Corps hymn and describees perfect Marine material as "muscular nineteen-year olds with low foreheads and thick shoulders. Dumb and strong". He tries to ward off the draft by waving his unqualified separation papers from the Corps like a talisman but has no luck; he was inducted into the Army but fled to Canada before he was finished recruit training, motivated less by principle than by the fact that his girlfriend had broken up with him.

Excuses, excuses, excuses. His mother, his girlfriend, his best friend all told him to flee to Canada (Mr. Todd, much later, was afraid to return to the United States for his mother's funeral for fear of being arrested) so he went. Even when he renounces his American citizenship and becomes a Canadian he finds someone to blame-Richard Nixon. Mr. Nixon can be blamed for many things but causing a deserter to swear allegiance to a foreign country is not one of them.