A Field of Broken Stones , first published in 1950 (after numerous rejections by 'traditional' publishers, the book was printed by the Libertarian Press), is Lowell Naeve's account of his experiences as a conscientious objector to the Second World War, starting with his refusal to be drafted, followed by his prison time. The book describes Naeve’s personal transformation as his political and social views develop through talks with fellow inmates, his writing, and his drawings and paintings (some of which are included in the book). Naeve was eventually released from prison on May 14, 1946. Naeve would continue to be a social activist, and also taught art at a school in Vermont. He eventually settled in Creston, British Columbia, where he passed away on August 21, 2014 at the age of 97.
"Somewhere in the conversation we got around to the fact that I was in jail because I refused to kill people. The Murder, Inc., boss, [Lepke] who was headed for the electric chair, said: 'It don't seem to me to make much sense that they put a man in jail for that.'"
Naeve is a skilled writer who possesses an artist's eye for detail. I've read memoirs by other World War II objectors, with David Dellinger's being the most recent. I've read accounts of refusal to participate in the American Civil War and World War I. The self-discipline and consistency required to resist both societal "war fever" and the machinery itself has fascinated me for a long time.
Of the accounts I've read, Naeve's is the most complete and comprehensive. A visual artist first, Naeve includes drawings he made while in prison. He may also be the most relatable objector I've read: he's driven by no unifying philosophy or deep religious conviction, he just doesn't want to take part in killing.
It's important to note that Naeve goes into prison well before Pearl Harbor is attacked. Conscription began in September 1940 in the United States. Hindsight is 20/20 but American entry into the war must have seemed inevitable to anyone who took time to think about it.
As much as this is about objection to killing, it's also a detailed account of life in prison. Naeve rightly reflects that most people don't think about prison, and the prisons in which he spends most of his time are in rural settings, out of sight and out of mind. It's unpleasant to think about, certainly unpleasant to see the concertina wire, the dull blocky buildings.
All this was before prison became a truly lucrative industry. Before the War on Drugs. Before the GEO Group and Core Civic became reliable partners in incarcerating both "criminals" and immigrants in "detention." But it's still prison. The prison in Danbury, CT where Naeve spent most of his time is still operating. It outlived him.