Hawks and Doves/Demonstrations and Protests

The first large-scale protest demonstrations against the Vietnam War occurred in 1965. These demonstrations had been preceded by a series of smaller protests organized by Students for a Democratic Society (SDS). SDS was part of the “New Left,” as compared to the “Old Left” of the 1930s and 1940s. (Mitchell, pp. 96-97.) SDS had its origins in the “ban the bomb” activities in the late 1950s. It was one of several such student organizations, including the Student Peace Union and National Committee for a Sane Nuclear Policy, know as SANE. (Isserman, pp. 197-202.) By the middle of the 1960s, SDS had developed into the leading leftist student organization and became synonymous with the “New Left.” (Id., p. 202.) The main concerns of the SDS and the New Left were the prospect of nuclear war, the conduct of the Vietnam War and the Civil Rights Movement. (Id., p. xv-xvi.)

In 1961, SDS had about 300 dues-paying members; by 1968 it had about that many chapters with between 30,000 and 100,000 members. (Id. p. 202.) The SDS developed its formal political platform at a meeting in Port Huron, Michigan in 1962. “The Port Huron Statement” emphasized participatory democracy, direct individual involvement in the decisions that affected their lives. Tom Hayden, one of the founders of the SDS (later elected to the California State Senate and husband of anti-war activist Jane Fonda) was the primary author of the Port Huron Statement. The Port Huron Statement was influenced by the teachings of “non-Marxist, humanitarian thinkers” such as C. Wright Mills, a Columbia sociologist. (Mitchell, Id.)

In May, 1964, SDS initiated the first major student demonstrations against the Vietnam War in New York City where between 400 to 1,000 students marched through Times Square to the United Nations to protest what was then called “U.S. intervention” in Vietnam. On the same day, more than 700 students and young people marched through San Francisco. In Boston, Madison, Wisconsin, and Seattle; there were also simultaneous smaller demonstrations in other places. (The New York Times, 5/3/64)

Other anti-war groups of the 1960s included the Student Mobilization against the War, the Vietnam Veterans against the War, the Spring Mobilization Committee to End the War in Vietnam, which became the National Mobilization Committee to End the War in Vietnam, informally known as “the Mobe,” which was a coalition of antiwar activists formed in 1967 to organize large demonstrations in opposition to the Vietnam War. Anti-war demonstrators led by people such as Jerry Rubin, Abbie Hoffman, (Rubin and Hoffman later formed “the Yippies”), David Dellinger, and Rennie Davis, became more radical as the war progressed.

In 1969, radical militant members of the SDS formed The Weather Underground, also known as “The Weathermen,” who took their name from lyrics in Bob Dylan’s song “Subterranean Homesick Blues”: “You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.” The Weathermen was the most violent of all protest groups. (Jennings and Brewster, pp. 423-424.) The Weathermen argued that the capitalistic system United States was doomed and that communist revolutions were imminent throughout the Third World. They believed the role of leftist revolutionaries in the U.S. should be to support those revolutions by hastening the collapse of the United States and awakening a vanguard of working class youth—such as high school students. (Id.)

Mark Rudd, a leader of the anti-war movement at Columbia University, later succinctly summed up the creation and the objective of The Weathermen: “My friends and I formed an underground revolutionary guerrilla band called Weatherman which had as its goal the violent overthrow of the United States government.” (http://www.theblaze.com/stories/2011/09/16/guest-post-tracing-the-origins-of-the-days-of-rage-protest/.)

Ironically, The Weather Underground lost much of its following a few years later when three of its members blew themselves up in a Greenwich Village townhouse while they were making bombs for their cause.

Notable anti-Vietnam war demonstrations during the Johnson administration included: a November 27, 1965 rally at the White House during an SDS-organized March on Washington for Peace; the April 15, 1967 March on Washington; in New York City the same month more than 300,000 people marched from Central Park to the United Nations building to protest against the war in New York (Spring Mobilization to End the War); the October 16-20, 1967 Stop the Draft Week, during which some 100,000 protesters gathered at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. and around 30,000 of them continued in a march on the Pentagon later that night. Slogans favored by the demonstrators included the phrases: “Hey, Hey LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?” and “Hell no, we won’t go!” In addition to mass marches, anti-war protesters demonstrated by activities such as raids on draft boards when blood was poured on draft records, efforts to sabotage napalm and Agent Orange production, disrupting trains that carried troops to disembarkation points, greeting returning soldiers with jeers and taunts, and spitting on troops in airports and on public streets.

Anti-war protest songs came in every shape and size. “Fixing to Die Rag, written and sung by Country Joe (McDonald) and the Fish (1967) (https://youtu.be/Soy3PHV3RiM) was the most well-known and popular of the anti-Vietnam War songs. Michael W. Rodriguez, in his essay “A Vietnam Vet Remembers Rocking and Rolling in the Mud of War,” says this about the song: “Bitter, disillusioned, and angry with a government we felt had betrayed us, the ‘Rag’ became the battle hymn of the Grunt in Vietnam.” (Tick, Music in the USA, p. 655.)

Well, come on all of you, big strong men,
Uncle Sam needs your help again.
He’s got himself in a terrible jam
Way down yonder in Vietnam
So put down your books and pick up a gun,
We’re gonna have a whole lotta fun.

And it’s one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it’s five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.

Come on Wall Street, don’t be slow,
Why man, this is war au-go-go
There’s plenty good money to be made
By supplying the Army with the tools of it’s trade,
But just hope and pray that if they drop the bomb,
They drop it on the Viet Cong.

And it’s one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam.
And it’s five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.

Well, come on generals, let’s move fast;
Your big chance has come at last.
Now you can go out and get those reds
‘Cause the only good commie is the one that’s dead
And you know that peace can only be won
When we’ve blown ’em all to kingdom come.

And it’s one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it’s five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.

Come on mothers throughout the land,
Pack your boys off to Vietnam.
Come on fathers, and don’t hesitate
To send your sons off before it’s too late.
You can be the first ones in your block
To have your boy come home in a box.

And it’s one, two, three
What are we fighting for?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam.
And it’s five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.

“The Ballad of Penny Evans, was written and sung by Steve Goodman (1971). (https://youtu.be/Q7mYhpcoSjc) It is the lament of a wife of a soldier who was killed in Vietnam.

Oh my name is Penny Evans and my age is twenty-one
A young widow in the war that’s being fought in Viet Nam
And I have two infant daughters and I do the best I can
Now they say the war is over, but I think it’s just begun.

And I remember I was seventeen on the day I met young Bill
At his father’s grand piano, we’d play good old ‘Heart and Soul’
And I only knew the left hand part and he the right so well
And he’s the only boy I ever slept with and the only one I will.

It’s first we had a baby girl and we had two good years
And, it was next the 1A notice came and we parted without tears
And it was nine months from our last good night our second babe appears
And so it’s ten months and a telegram confirming all our fears.

And now every month I get a check from an Army bureaucrat
And it’s every month I tear it up and I mail the damn thing back.
Do you think that makes it all right, do you think I’d fall for that ?
And you can keep your bloody money, it sure won’t bring my Billy back.

I never cared for politics, and speeches I don’t understand,
And likewise never took no charity from any living man
But tonight there’s fifty thousand gone in that unhappy land
And fifty thousand ‘Heart and Soul’s’ being played with just one hand.

And my name is Penny Evans and I’ve just gone twenty-one
A young widow in the war that’s being fought in Viet Nam
And I have two infant daughters and I thank God I have no sons
Now they say the war is over, but I think it’s just begun.

“White Boots Marching in a Yellow Land, written and performed by Phil Ochs (1968) (https://youtu.be/Zz0NnVFtPLg), describes many aspects of the soldier’s experience fighting in the Vietnamese jungles. Note Och’s reference to the “civil war,” indicating his belief about the nature of the Vietnam conflict.

Bottom of Form

The pilot’s playing poker in the cockpit of the plane
The casualties are rising like the dropping of rain
And the mountain of machinery will fall before a man
When your white boots marching in a yellow land

It’s written in the ashes of the village towns we burn
It’s written in the empty bed of the fathers unreturned
And the chocolate in the children’s eyes will never understand
When you’re white boots marching in a yellow land

Red, blow the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived, you must be gone
And the lost patrol chase their shattered souls
Like old whores following tired armies

Train them well, the men who will be fighting by your side
And never turn your back if the battle turns the tide
For the colors of a civil war are louder than commands
When you’re white boots marching in a yellow land

Blow them from the forest and burn them from your sight
Tie their hands behind their back and question through the night
But when the firing squad is ready, they’ll be spitting where they stand
At the white boots marching in a yellow land

Red, blow the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived, you must be gone
And the lost patrol chase their shattered souls
Like old whores following tired armies

The comic and the beauty queen are dancing on the stage
Raw recruits are lining up like coffins in a cage
We’re fighting in a war, we lost before the war began
We’re the white boots marching in a yellow land

And the lost patrol chase their shattered souls
Like old whores following tired armies

However, it would be wrong to assume that every American (or even a majority, depending on the time) was against the country’s involvement in South Vietnam. While there were those who were vociferous in their condemnation of U.S. Vietnam policy, a Gallup poll taken before the Tet Offensive (January 1968) showed that 46 percent of Americans approved of Johnson’s handling of the war, and 50 percent believed that it was essential to combat the expansion of communism in Southeast Asia. (Anderson, p. 183-185.) To this segment of the population, protest against the war was anti-American and unpatriotic. A popular slogan with the anti-protest segment was “My country, right or wrong,” meaning that a real American supports the government whether it is right or wrong. Polarization of the pro and anti camps was a major characteristic of the American landscape of the late 1960s. Families were often split because of their conflicting views of the war.

President Nixon admiringly referred to the pro-government segment of the country as the “The Silent Majority,” inferring, accurately or not, that those who were out in the streets raising a ruckus were a small percentage of the American people. The use of the “Silent Majority” concept allowed Nixon and his ilk to ignore the protestors on the grounds that they did not represent the will of the people. (Carroll, It Seemed Like Nothing Happened: The Tragedy and Promise of America in the 1970s, p. 8.)

Popular jargon of the time divided the populace into the “Hawks,” those in support of the war, and the “Doves,” advocates of peace and getting out of Vietnam. Although the phrase “Silent Majority” was used, it is inaccurate to think that those in that group passively sat by silently and let the “Doves” have the stage to themselves. There were many demonstrations in support of the government, and there were many protests of the protests. Dissent was treated as treason.

A rallying cry of the war’s supporters was the slogan, “America, love it or leave it,” which often found its way onto vehicle bumper stickers. Perhaps this phrase emanated from Merle Haggard’s song “Fighting Side of Me, which included the lyrics “If you don’t love it, leave it. Let this song be a warning.” (https://youtu.be/ZrKYwlYSq_I)

I hear people talkin’ bad,
About the way we have to live here in this country,
Harpin’ on the wars we fight,
An’ gripin’ ’bout the way things oughta be.
An’ I don’t mind ’em switchin’ sides,
An’ standin’ up for things they believe in.
When they’re runnin’ down my country, man,
They’re walkin’ on the fightin’ side of me.

Yeah, walkin’ on the fightin’ side of me.
Runnin’ down the way of life,
Our fightin’ men have fought and died to keep.
If you don’t love it, leave it:
Let this song I’m singin’ be a warnin’.
If you’re runnin’ down my country, man,
You’re walkin’ on the fightin’ side of me.

I read about some squirrely guy,
Who claims, he just don’t believe in fightin’.
An’ I wonder just how long,
The rest of us can count on bein’ free.
They love our milk an’ honey,
But they preach about some other way of livin’.
When they’re runnin’ down my country, hoss,
They’re walkin’ on the fightin’ side of me.

Yeah, walkin’ on the fightin’ side of me.
Runnin’ down the way of life,
Our fightin’ men have fought and died to keep.
If you don’t love it, leave it:
Let this song I’m singin’ be a warnin’.
If you’re runnin’ down my country, man,
You’re walkin’ on the fightin’ side of me.

Yeah, walkin’ on the fightin’ side of me.
Runnin’ down the way of life,
Our fightin’ men have fought and died to keep.
If you don’t love it, leave it:
Let this song I’m singin’ be a warnin’.
If you’re runnin’ down my country, man,
You’re walkin’ on the fightin’ side of me.

Ernest Tubbs adopted the “love it or leave it” phrase into a song of its own: “It’s America (Love it or Leave It),(1970). (https://youtu.be/ba0kIrwgoQc )

Well I’m gettin’ mighty tired of seein’ hippies runnin’ wild
And burnin’ down the schools and steppin’ on the flag
Things are gettin’ out of hand when you read about man
Who’ll burn his draft card then hang around the pool room and brag
Some folks think it’s okay, but I wasn’t raised that way
And I won’t be satisfied ’til I’ve had my say

Chorus:
It’s America, you got no right to deceive it
It’s the best there is, you’d better believe it
Good men gave their lives, so we could live to see it
It’s America, love it or leave it

Things are goin’ mighty wrong when respect for law is gone
And it seems everybody hates a uniform
It’s kinda hard to understand when you read about a man
That’s talkin’ ’bout love and knockin’ the place he was born
If things don’t go their way, they could always move away
That’s what democracy means anyway

Chorus

It’s America, love it or leave it

Merle Haggard’s song “Okie from Muskogee, (https://youtu.be/-iYY2FQHFwE), reflects the “My country, right or wrong,” anti-hippie attitude of many people in the country. It has been described as the “anthem [of the] Silent Majority.” (Lynskey, p. 165.) “The ‘Okie,’ once celebrated by Woody Guthrie as a proletarian hero for the Left, was now a resentful patriot who waved Old Glory and believed in ‘livin’ right and bein’ free’.” (Id.)

We don’t smoke marijuana in Muskogee;
We don’t take no trips on LSD
We don’t burn no draft cards down on Main Street;
We like livin’ right, and bein’ free.

I’m proud to be an Okie from Muskogee,
A place where even squares can have a ball
We still wave Old Glory down at the courthouse,
And white lightnin’s still the biggest thrill of all

We don’t make a party out of lovin’;
We like holdin’ hands and pitchin’ woo;
We don’t let our hair grow long and shaggy,
Like the hippies out in San Francisco do.

And I’m proud to be an Okie from Muskogee,
A place where even squares can have a ball.
We still wave Old Glory down at the courthouse,
And white lightnin’s still the biggest thrill of all.

Leather boots are still in style for manly footwear;
Beads and Roman sandals won’t be seen.
Football’s still the roughest thing on campus,
And the kids here still respect the college dean.

We still wave Old Glory down at the courthouse,
In Muskogee, Oklahoma, USA.

“What You’re Fighting For,” by Mother Maybelle Carter (https://youtu.be/F5Of7Hi-DR0) is another country song in the same vein as “Okie from Muskogee.”

My dear son I’m writing to you these few lines
Your dad and I, dear, miss you and I’m proud to call you mine
The postman brought your letters to us only yesterday
I’ll try to be more clear with what I say

I stood two days for hours on a downtown city street
Carrying a sign that read our soldiers fight for peace
I said there is no soldier in that land who likes the war
Yes son, I told them what you’re fighting for

I told them as I waved it high, the ol’ red white and blue
I said thank God, Pearl Harbor and Korea too
Let me keep this flying high above our nations’ shores
Yes son, I told them what you’re fighting for

From Maine to California there are many broken homes
The price of war has been our fathers and our many sons
But the world has learned, we will fight, we will protect our shores
Oh, son, I told them what you’re fighting for

I told them as I waved it high, the ol’ red white and blue
I said thank God, Pearl Harbor and Korea too
Let me keep this flying high above our nations’ shores
Yes son, I told them what you’re fighting for
Yes son, I told them what you’re fighting for

Illustrative of confrontations between Hawks and Doves was an altercation on Wall Street in New York City when construction workers wearing hard hats took offense at a protest march. The workers expressed their dissatisfaction physically, leaving some of the marchers bloody. (Jennings and Brewster, p. 435.) That and similar incidents gave rise to the phrase “hard hat” as someone who was strongly against the anti-war movement.

“Your Flag Decal Won’t Get you into Heaven Anymore, was written and sung by John Prine (1971). (https://youtu.be/DgRVNjsuycQ) It comments on the “bumper sticker war” conducted by the Hawks and the Doves, each side adorning their cars with comments that reflected their point of view regarding the conflict.

While digesting Reader’s Digest in the back of a dirty book store
A plastic flag, with gum on the back fell out on the floor
Well, I picked it up and I ran outside, slapped it on my window shield
And if I could see old Betsy Ross I’d tell her how good I feel

But your flag decal won’t get you into Heaven anymore
They’re already overcrowded from your dirty little war
Now Jesus don’t like killin’, no matter what the reason’s for
And your flag decal won’t get you into Heaven anymore

Well, I went to the bank this morning and the cashier he said to me
“If you join the Christmas club we’ll give you ten of them flags for free”
Well, I didn’t mess around a bit, I took him up on what he said
And I stuck them stickers all over my car and one on my wife’s forehead

But your flag decal won’t get you into Heaven anymore
They’re already overcrowded from your dirty little war
Now Jesus don’t like killin’, no matter what the reason’s for
And your flag decal won’t get you into Heaven anymore

Well, I got my window shield so filled with flags I couldn’t see
So, I ran the car upside a curb and right into a tree
By the time they got a doctor down I was already dead
And I’ll never understand why the man standing in the pearly gates said,

“But your flag decal won’t get you into Heaven anymore
We’re already overcrowded from your dirty little war
Now Jesus don’t like killin’, no matter what the reason’s for
And your flag decal won’t get you into Heaven anymore”

Tom Paxton wrote a song called “Born on the 4th of July” that was inspired by the autobiography of Ron Kovic and on which the movie of the same name directed by Oliver Stone was based. Kovic served two tours in Vietnam. It is a compelling story of all too familiar events during the Vietnam War era. (https://youtu.be/ioV_aK5dY-I)

As a schoolboy I played with a plastic grenade
It was grey and with caps it was loaded
In the dirt we would cry and dramatically die
As it flew through the air and exploded
As a young man my dream was to be a Marine
My flag was worth all I could bring it
The country felt young. When the anthem was sung
Well it gave me the goosebumps to sing it.

Chorus: I was born on the fourth of July
No one more loyal than I
When my country said so, I was ready to go,
And I wish I’d been left there to die.

When I landed in ‘Nam, I was great Uncle Sam
I was fighting for God and my mother.
And I knew what to do when my first tour was through,
I signed up and went back for another.
But it all tumbled down when we ambushed the town,
In the night how the metal was flying.
We blew it to hell. Really did our job well,
But just women and kids did the dying

Chorus

In the damn DMZ it all ended for me,
The fighting broke out and we scattered.
One shot hit my heel, the last thing I’d feel,
The next hit my spine and it shattered.
In my hospital bed I could hear what was said,
And the word will stay with me forever.
With my whole life ahead, my body was dead,
And the word they were using was never.

Chorus

Now I wheel myself down to the crossroads of town,
To see the young girls and their lovers.
And my mind is afire, it’s alive with desire,
Christ, I’d barely begun, now it’s over.
In my wheelchair for life, my mechanical wife,
I’m supposed to be cheerful and stoic.
I’m your old tried-and-true, Yankee Doodle to you,
Clean-cut, paralyzed and heroic.

Chorus

There were as many and as varied songs supporting the government as there were songs protesting the war. Although it does not specifically reference the Vietnam War, “The Ballad of the Green Berets” became a musical symbol of patriotism and support of the troops in the 1960s. The song was written and sung by Sgt. Barry Sadler (1966). It was the number one song of that year. (https://youtu.be/JNfscIsSIfQ) The lyrics were written in honor of Green Beret James Gabriel, Jr., the first native Hawaiian to die in Vietnam. He was executed by the Viet Cong while on a training mission on April 8, 1962. (Sadler, I’m a Lucky One, pp. 80-81.)

Silver wings upon their chest
These are men, America’s best
One hundred men we’ll test today
But only three win the Green Beret

Trained to live, off nature’s land
Trained in combat, hand to hand
Men who fight by night and day
Courage deep, from the Green Beret

Silver wings upon their chest
These are men, America’s best
One hundred men we’ll test today
But only three win the Green Beret

Back at home a young wife waits
Her Green Beret has met his fate
He has died for those oppressed
Leaving her this last request

Put silver wings on my son’s chest
Make him one of America’s best
He’ll be a man they’ll test one day
Have him win the Green Beret

A critical look at the anti-war demonstrations from the point of view of a soldier on active duty, but on leave, is “Vietnam Blues, written by Dave Dudley and Kris Kristofferson, sung by Kris Kristofferson (1965). (https://youtu.be/Ui_8Qe8sS8M) Kristofferson later became a strong critic of the Vietnam conflict.

I was on leave at the time, just duckin’ the fog
Nosin’ around like a hungry dog
In that crazy place called Washington DC
I saw a crowd of people on the White House lawn
All carryin’ signs about Vietnam
So I went over to see what was goin’ on
It was a strange lookin’ bunch
But then I never could understand some people

Well, a fellah came to me with a list in his hand
He said, “We’re gatherin’ names to send a telegram of sympathy”
Then he handed me a pen
I said, “I reckon this is goin’ to the kids and the wives
Of my friends over there who’d givin’ their lives”
He said “Uh-uh, buddy, this is goin’ to Ho-Chi-Minh”
I said, “Ho-Chi who?”
He said, “Ho-Chi-Minh, People’s leader, North Vietnam”

Well, I wasn’t real sure if I was hearin’ him right
So I thought I’d better move before I got in a fight
‘Cause my ears were hurtin’ and my pulse started hittin’ a lick
Then I thought about another telegram that I’d just read
Tellin’ my buddy’s wife that her husband was dead
And it wasn’t too long till I was feelin’ downright sick

Another held a sign that said ‘we won’t fight’
I thought to myself, “Boy, ain’t that right!
You’d rather let a soldier die instead”
I said, “It’s a shame that every man
Whoever died there in that far off land
Was dyin’ so that you wouldn’t have to wake up dead”
Course he looked at me like I was kinda crazy
Just another warmonger

Well, I left that place and I went downtown
Hit the first bar that I found
To cool myself off and pacify my brain
You see I was on orders to Vietnam
Little old place just north of Saigon
Had about an hour to catch myself a plane
So all I mean to say is, “I don’t like dyin’ either
But man, I ain’t gonna crawl!”

“Wish You Were Here, Buddy, sung by Pat Boone (1966), was critical of the anti-war element. This “venomously sarcastic” (Lynskey, p. 93) song was dedicated to American servicemen in Vietnam and their families. It reached number 49 on the Billboard charts. (https://youtu.be/r343YRkQdss)

Well, hi there, buddy
Thought I’d drop you a line
I seen you
For a hundred years

When you get time
Will you let me know
If it’s true what a fella hears

Heard you been leading
Those campus demonstrations
You’re as busy as you can be
If the sit downs, walk outs
And others aggravate you
Bet you hardly ever think of me

Well, I’m on a little
Vacation in South Vietnam
And expense paid trip for one
I got my own little rifle
And a great uniform
And a job that must be done

Well, we’re sleeping in the jungle
And ducking real bullets
And man, it’s a lot of fun
Wish you were here
(Wish you were here)
Wish you were here
(Wish you were here)

I heard you let your hair grow
Til it’s hanging on your shoulders
And you hardly have time to shave
Bet the girls all flip
Cause you look so fine like
Something crawled out of a cave

Heard Uncle Sam
Nearly scared you to death
But you fooled him just in time
Just stuck a little match
To your old draft card
And you burned up
A future like mine

Well, I’m on a little
Vacation in South Vietnam
And expense paid trip for one
I got my own little rifle
And a great uniform
And a job that must be done

Well, we’re sleeping in the jungle
And ducking real bullets
And man, it’s a lot of fun
Wish you were here
(Wish you were here)
Wish you were here
(Wish you were here)

Oh, I know you’re not scared
You’re a real brave guy
You’re a regular Cassius Clay
And I know you’da fought
When the country was young
But the world’s just different today

Well, you just stay home
And leave the fighting to us
And when the whole
Durn mess is through
I’ll put away my rifle
And the old uniform
And I’ll come looking for you

Well, we’re sleeping in the jungle
And ducking real bullets
And man, it’s a lot of fun
Wish you were here
(Wish you were here)
Wish you were here
(Wish you were here)

Wish you were here, old pal
(Wish you were here)
Wish you were here
(Wish you were here)
Wish you were here, little buddy
(Wish you were here)

I wanna introduce
You to them Comms
(Wish you were here)
Come on over and we’ll just
Hold em til you get here, okay
Wish you were here

“An Open Letter To My Teenage Son,sung by Victor Lundberg, by songwriter Robert Thompson, is a spoken song. It is an example of the cultural divide that existed generally and in families during the counterculture time of the 1960s. (https://youtu.be/n4NGAXGDFZU)

Dear son
You ask my reaction to long hair or beards on young people.
Some great men have worn long hair and beards… George Washington
And Abraham Lincoln. If to you long hair or a beard is a symbol of
Independence, if you believe in your heart that the principles
Of this country, our heritage, is worthy of this display of pride,
That all men shall remain free, that free men at all times will not
Inflict their personal limitations of achievement on others, that
Demands your own rights as well as the rights of others, and be
Willing to fight for this right, you have my blessing.
You ask that I not judge you merely as a teenager, to judge
You on your own personal habits, abilities and goals. This is a
Fair request and I promise that I will not judge any person only as
A teenager if you will constantly remind yourself that some of my
Generation judge people by their race, their belief or the color
Of their skin and that this is no more right than saying all
Teenagers are drunken dope addicts or glue sniffers. If you will
Judge every human being on his own individual potential, I will
Do the same.
You ask me if God is dead. This is a question each individual
Must answer within himself. But a warm summer day with all it’s
Brightness, all it’s sound, all it’s exhilarating breathiness
Just happened? God is love. Remember that God is a guide and not
A storm trooper. Realize that many of the past and present
Generation because of a well intended but unjustifiable
Misconception, have attempted to legislate morality. This created
Part of the basis for your generations need to rebel against
Our society. With this knowledge perhaps your children will never ask Is
God dead?. I sometimes think much of mankind is attempting to work Him to
Death.
You ask my opinion of draft card burners. I would answer this way. All
Past wars have been dirty, unfair, immoral, bloody and second-guessed.
However, history has shown most of them necessary. If you doubt that our
Free enterprise system in the United States is worth protecting, if you
Doubt the principles upon which this country was founded, that we remain
Free to choose our religion, our individual endeavors, our method of
Government, if you doubt that each free individual in this great country
Should reap rewards commensurate only with his own efforts, than it is
Doubtful you belong here. If you doubt that people who govern us should be
Selected by their desire to allow us to strive for any goal we feel
Capable of obtaining than it’s doubtful you should participate in their
Selection. If you are not grateful to a country that gave your father the
Opportunity to work for his family to give you the things you have and you
Do not feel pride enough to fight for your right to continue in this
Manner than I assume the blame for your failure to recognize the true
Value of our birthright. And I will remind you that your mother will love
You no matter what you do, because she is a woman. And I love you too,
Son. But I also love our country and the principles for which we stand.
And if you decide to burn your draft card, then burn your birth
Certificate at the same time.
From that moment on, I have no son!