I Heard My Country Calling is the memoir of a modern American hero, written after he left the U. S. Senate in 2012, perhaps, in anticipation of a 2016 presidential campaign. This is a man who knows how to write and who has demonstrated courage and intellect well beyond the reach of most presidential aspirants. And he gives us a tour of ourselves after WWII that is well worth the ride.
A Naval Academy graduate and highly decorated Marine, James Henry Webb Jr. was an Air Force brat from a hard-scrabble Appalachian Scots-Irish family. His father—-a doppleganger for Pat Conroy's Great Santini—-flew B-29s in WWII and jets in the early 1950s until a flying accident forced him to the desk. Brought up as a patriot, Webb chose the USMC after graduation from the Naval Academy and earned top honors for leadership. He served as a platoon commander and company commander in Viet Nam, earning a Navy Cross (second only to the Medal of Honor), a Silver Star, two Bronze Stars, and two Purple Hearts. He returned with a love for that country--he speaks Vietnamese and his third wife is Vietnamese-American. He has written several outstanding books (His 1978 Fields of Fire is among the best Viet Nam books I’ve read--see review), including a nonfiction study of the role of the Scots-Irish in Amercan history.
During the Reagan administration Webb served in several Pentagon-related positions, ending with brief service as the Secretary of the Navy, a position he resigned to protest plans to cut the Navy. In 2006 he was narrowly elected a democratic senator from Virginia; turned off by the Senate’s dysfunctionality, he decided not to run for reelection in 2012. He is a moderate democrat whose past experience has given credibility to his support for a strong military and a firm opposition to foreign interventions. He is a man to respect—-a political moderate, an intellectual warrior, an articulate and thought-filled man, a man who takes no prisoners (he was once described as “constantly blurting out the truth.”) This last might explain why his half-life in politics has been so short.
Webb’s youth was familiar to many of us who were military brats. Dad was rarely around, but when he was home the entire family stood at attention. While Webb Sr.'s flying years were cut short, he stayed in the Air Force and eventually became part of the Strategic Air Command’s First Missile Division. The family moved repeatedly at Uncle Sam’s bidding: in one year they had four different postings. Webb’s recollections of life as a peripatetic military child spell out a memory common to many of us baby-boomers: the boredom of cross-country drives to new digs, marked by Burma-Shave jingles strewn along the highway; living on military bases, always the most unattractive surroundings in the general area, then leaving new-found friends as the family moved on; developing an ability to read a room quickly to identify its magnetic lines of force as we acclimated to new schools and new neighbors.
A new America was formed after WWII, promoted by a new mobility. Webb captures this well in his discussions of the poverty so common in the south and of the North-South economic rift that led to northern migration. He shows an appealing sensitivity to the social issues created by wide and widening income distribution because he has been there. But I think he discounts new forces inducing mobility after the war. America has always been mobile, but before WWII mobility came primarily from individual initiative as families moved to improve their opportunities; it was motivated entirely by personal choice, and it is the mobility that Webb recognizes. After WWII, mobility was induced by the new large organizations that shaped our lives and provided our employment: a federal government that commanded a standing military and sent families like the Webbs hither and yon, and the new large corporations with national and international reach, which moved employees around like chess pieces. Mobility has always been a matter of choice, but the choices available changed after the war as job security within a bureaucracy replaced the “place” security of home and neighborhood.
Webb’s description of life at the Naval Academy conforms to other reportss. Plebe year was more than difficult, though the hazing allowed (and encouraged) served a broader purpose than a civilian could understand—-it established a conformity to command that suppressed the natural desire for democracy and debate that is destructive in the fragile setting of combat. It was harsh, but it was designed to save lives and achieve the mission. But there were moments of hilarity. On top of the harassment, the exhaustion from never resting and always being on a tight schedule (“trying to stuff ten pounds of shit into a five-pound bag”), and the pressure to study (one F was grounds for dismissal), midshipmen were expected to learn to dance. This was done through mass instruction with each midshipman following the shouted directions of an instructor, all dancing alone. Field experience came at the end-of-semester Tea Fight. For Webb’s class, this began with 600 classmates formed at one end of the room facing 400 imported female college students at the other end. When the men were released to choose their date for the dance, a spontaneous moan of “Moo Moo Moo” issued from the men. Then, as they stampeded toward the women they broke into the theme song from the hit TV western Rawhide—“Roll ‘em, Roll ‘em, Roll ‘em.” The cadets certainly knew what this was all about—a cattle call—and the women must have been scared to death.
Graduation brought a trip to Viet Nam as a new Marine second lieutenant. Webb discusses some larger lessons from the experience, and does a credible job of outlining the complexities that led uds to win the battles but lose the war. He does not highlight his own heroism, not even mentioning the events that earned him the Navy Cross. With two purple hearts, he was forced to leave the field in spite of his objections; his injuries ultimately caused his demobilization.
Webb’s memoir is about who he is. What he has done is secondary, brought in only to illustrate how it has shaped the man named James Henry Webb Jr. Notable in its absence are his heroism in Viet Nam—-just how did he earn such high awards for valor?—-and the details of his public service after the war. If this book is designed as an introduction to a man with Presidential aspirations, it does its job very well without the self-appreciation most commonly found in that genre. Before reading it I knew the basics of his service and had read (some of) his books, but I knew nothing of him as a person and as a potential leader. I am not “of his party,” and the little he says about domestic issues identifies problems but suggests no solutions. Still, this is a man I would look to for leadership in a difficult world—-a moderate with a concern for the disadvantaged but an awareness of the unintended consequences of policies to address that, a person of personal courage, a citizen-scholar with a vision for the U. S. role in its global future, and a man with remarkably appealing personal attributes. Could he actually be a good president? It might be worth finding out. We have done worse on slimmer evidence.
Four stars.