I was born and raised in a Swiss community in the United States that was settled in the early 1800s by mainly European Ana-baptists and my parents were members of the local Mennonite Church. Living in the United States at that time meant that as an 18 year old boy I had to register with the American military so that I could be conscripted into service whenever needed. As I look back now, that is a young age to make such a life-changing decision. But, that is the way it was in the 1960s. I talked about it with my parents, of course, and they helped me understand my options.

My father was a farmer and a pacifist and when World War II came he went into the Army with the designation of 1AO. That meant that he was in the Army but he refused to carry a gun or enter the direct conflict. He was a cook in a unit that did not enter conflicts but came behind to clean up. Dad said that he was made fun of – but many also admired him because they recognized that Dad had a belief that they didn’t.

Some people in that Mennonite church believed strongly in the Anabaptist belief of peace but others did not – even at that time. The young people had begun going in different directions and seemed to receive the blessing of the church for whichever way they went – regular Army recruits; farm boys especially registered in the reserve (meaning that they could stay home and farm but they also had to go into Army training for a number of weeks each year – in case they would have to be called up for regular service in an emergency). I did not even feel encouraged to consider Conscientious Objector (CO) status from my Sunday School teacher – although he did mention in class once that it was an option.

As a 17-year-old young man, I knew that I had to make a choice. I believed that war and killing was wrong and that Jesus is the true Peacemaker. I knew that that was what God wanted me to do! I also knew that I would be the first one in my peer group to declare as a CO and there were no other young adult COs that I knew of in the church for a number of years. I was followed by my brother and a cousin.

I went to the Selective Service Office in the neighbouring town right after my 18th birthday because I needed to fill out a declaration form and hand it in to the receptionist. When the Army man read my form, he barked at me and belittled me in front of the others in the room – calling me a chicken, a sissy, a wimp, and other things. He tried his best to intimidate me and asked if I realized that he could send me in front of the draft board for questioning. I answered that I knew that. He told me to sit down and he went back into his office.

When he re-entered the room, he gave me my registration card and my CO designation. That all happened before the Vietnam War started so there was no pressure to enter into any form of service right away. That meant that I could continue my schooling.

When my wife Edith and I decided to get married in 1965, we also decided that we wanted to enter Mennonite Voluntary Service (MVS) and begin our married life as volunteers. As we were making plans with MVS, Mennonite Central Committee also became involved because of my CO status. I would now have a joint assignment since the Vietnam War had started.

We settled on a two-year term at the Woodlawn Mennonite Church — in the black ghetto of south-side Chicago, where the Mennonite Biblical Seminary used to be before it moved to Elkhart, Indiana. There were more people living in the block across the street from us than there were in all of the town I came from!

I was called a maintenance engineer – doing everything from shoveling coal, to fixing sinks that came off the wall when someone sat on it, to cleaning up the church basement whenever the sewers backed up from a deluge of rain, to taking out the garbage and having a huge sewer rat jump on my chest!

I also had a boys club, worked with some gang members and those times have many stories of their own!

I found it interesting that some of my farmer friends that visited us thought that it was very scary in the ghetto and they would rather be in the Army reserves!!

During our 2nd year, I was suddenly asked to drive someone downtown. Without thinking of my billfold up in our apartment, I jumped in the church car and took off. On my way back I turned left where I wasn’t supposed to and was noticed by a police officer. I was taken to jail, fingerprinted and given one phone call. Edith and the pastor came to get me out and I was given a court date. I pled guilty to making the wrong turn but innocent to not having a driver’s license. Because I still had an out-of-state driver’s license, the judge was going to fine me until I said that it was legal because I was a CO. In front of about 400 people, I had to tell the judge why I was a CO!

Those were also the days that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Jesse Jackson, Ralph Abernathy and other black leaders worked for justice in Chicago. A number of us at Woodlawn Mennonite Church got involved in anti-war demonstrations, too. My pacifism was tested at a demonstration in downtown Chicago. I was jumped by four men, Nazis we were told, who broke my glasses and bruised me in the struggle. I did not swing back.

We also got involved in marches for justice and we even had a rally with Dr. King outside our Mennonite church. I was always struck how Dr. King said before each march: “If you cannot refrain from violence, please leave! Do not even chew gum. Do not look anyone on the sidelines in the eye because it might set them off. And so on …..”

Maybe it was because of my activism – unknown in the farming area from where I came and was too radical for them – that the Mennonite Church where I was a member largely ignored what we were doing in Chicago in those years. After all, they didn’t want our black friends moving to their community!! – and we got letters from a few people saying that! I have to admit that it hurt me when we heard that one of the guys my age that went into the Army was commended during the church service for what he had done and for the Purple Heart medal he was given – and I was never recognized for my pacifist beliefs to this day.

When we moved to Winnipeg to attend Canadian Mennonite Bible College, I even got letters from some people in the United States calling me a draft dodger that was fleeing to Canada. My parents also got letters to that effect from as far away as Florida!

Some years ago I talked to a youth Sunday School teacher in my home community and he asked me, “Why do our Mennonite lessons always talk about peace?” So, I asked him, “Where else are the youth going to hear about peace? Not in school for sure – there the Army recruiters make their presence known regularly. Will their parents teach them if no one taught their parents?”

When I look back on that decision that I made at age 18, I feel thankful. It has influenced my whole life, and has made me stronger in my beliefs regarding the Christian faith and Biblical peacemaking, and has prompted me to aim for actions that reflect that in my daily life. Conflict resolution and reconciliation has also become a real part of my personal life and my career path.

Megwich.

Neill von Gunten
Winnipeg, Manitoba