University of Virginia Library

'What War Is'

The trial of First Lieut. William Calley
lasted four months and was the longest and
best publicized court martial in United States
history. Its opening drew the frequent
observation that the Army itself, along with
its scapegoat-defendant, would in fact be
standing trial for the massacre at My Lai 4 on
March 16, 1968. Now, Mr. Calley is officially
guilty. He faces death or life imprisonment,
which seems fitting for a man who led his
troops into the area of Sonmy and
participated in the slaughter of women and
children, himself killing at least 22 in cold
blood.

But what about the Army? What about the
war makers who trained, armed and shipped
Mr. Calley and thousands of young Americans
to Indochina for the purpose of carrying out
warfare against an innocent population? How
is it possible that the conviction of one man
serves to exculpate the very system of
"military justice," which has marked its
scapegoat for eternity?

"Many people say war is hell who have
never experienced it," said Mr. Calley last
week before his conviction, "but it is more
than a hell for those people tied up in it." If
that sounds like an excuse for the
inexcusable, then consider the position of a
platoon leader ordered into a "free fire zone"
with orders to clean up. Multiply that by the
number of times your imagination will allow
you to believe My Lai was no isolated incident,
which all evidence indicates, and you begin to
get a picture of the larger guilt involved.

Tom Wicker of the New York Times has
spoken of the "Orwellian rhetoric" which
marks official pronouncements on the war in
Washington and Saigon. George Orwell's stark
scheme, of course, involved the type of
double standard which frees language from
the bonds of any relation to reality. It would
be unfortunate indeed if the example made of
Lieut. Calley this week assuages the national
conscience and exonerates the Army. We face
a larger issue than the matter of Mr. Calley's
individual guilt. It is the issue of the
Indochina War and the culpability of
powerful men who are yet committing
genocide now in the form of air attacks
instead of ground combat — and in our
names.

I.F. Stone, the Washington journalist,
remarked not long ago that the war has
"made moral imbeciles of the American
people." That seems a particularly poignant
statement at a time when U.S. B-52's
continue to ravage the people and the land of
Southeast Asia. This while a foot soldier of an
earlier phase of the struggle is under siege at
home by the very Army which ordered him in
and defined the terms of his role in the war.
Lieut. Calley is a tool, an instrument in the
destruction and the genocide which still goes
on. The only differences are that he, at least,
met his "enemy" face to face, while the
bomber pilots enjoy the detachment of
remote control and a speedy getaway. Too,
Mr. Calley's crime was in being caught.

At Nuremberg, it was the victor to whom
fell the "moral" burden of establishing guilt.
As the trial at Fort Benning closed, and as the
ravaging of Asia went on — supported by our
bodies, our taxes, and our moral numbness —
the losers are more than William Calley, aged
27. The victor, rinsing the gore from his hands
after delivering his self-intended indictment
moves on to a bloodier glory.

If he had been acquitted, Mr. Calley
promised to travel the country telling "what
war is." Now convicted, he is the symbol —
the scapegoat — for that system of "military
justice" which we ourselves must condemn
and resist.