Military service in defense of our country has been on a voluntary basis for nearly half a century. And while the commemorative spirit and sentiment of Monday's holiday for all who gave their lives to preserve our liberty may be universal, the sacrifice suffered isn't.
The ravages of war arc toward youth. The youngest soldiers are often the ones assigned to the lowest ranks and to the front lines, where casualties are counted highest. They are the ones who were "born to drill and die," as 28-year-old Stephen Crane wrote in the poem "War is Kind."
Even today, we consider 18 an advanced-enough age to go to war. And our history is replete with younger teens who managed to enlist, fight and die in combat.
But full-scale war is more relic than reality nowadays. The nation hasn't been mobilized in worldwide conflict since the 1940s. There hasn't been a draft since the early 1970s. And we haven't really worried about any foe capable of homeland assault or invasion since the USSR imploded in the late 1980s and early 1990s.
In the minds of the more than 99 percent of Americans who don't volunteer for the armed forces, "boot camp" is a phrase more likely associated with fitness programs or occupational retreats.
Other military metaphors such as "boots on the ground" and "catching a lot of flak" have become part of the business lexicon, where soldiering jargon proves useful in rallying corporate "troops."
Without mandatory military service, most American teens know little or nothing of the demanding discipline and regimen of soldierhood.
The lack of such knowledge may help explain why today's 18-year-olds have trouble surviving the first year of college, as alarming dropout data confirm. One in three college freshmen don't return for their sophomore year. In some quarters and demographics, the dropout rate is half or more. All things considered, 40 percent of college students never reach commencement.
That's a national economic disaster. It's hard to identify a worse return on investment of funds than those used to produce a college dropout. Students who fail to finish college likely have squandered a combination of loans, scholarship money, grants and individual or family resources.
Furthermore, college dropouts get a double dose of financial calamity: the average dropout leaves campus with more than $13,000 in student loan debt, and also with an earning capacity that's $21,000 less per year than graduates.
It's wrong to attribute the entire dropout disaster solely to students, however. High school kids are universally pushed toward college from academic, social and business circles. But seniors are not universally suited or prepared for collegiate study and life.
Mandatory universal national service isn't a new idea. It's been around at least since the late 1880s with the advent of Bellamy Clubs, based on journalist Edward Bellamy's ahead-of-his-time vision of co-ed compulsory service. A popular early 20th century remedy for dealing with "gilded youths" was to draft them and instill martial virtues "to get the childishness knocked out of them," as philosopher William James characterized it.
Advantages of universal service are still appealing. Military service is a democratizing experience; meeting and dealing with people from different backgrounds weakens sectional, social, racial and other prejudices. Compulsory service would also provide superior physical and health benefits--including exercise, nutrition and hygiene--that would mark a substantial improvement for many youngsters, especially those from disadvantaged environments.
Unfortunately, the logistics of mandatory universal service remain as confounding as its promise is alluring. The abstract theory is rich and ripe, but the actuality could go rotten quickly, especially given the current culture of divisive national partisanship.
Who decides what services are administered and what standards are used to measure success? Would the delayed entry of millions of 18-year-olds into the work force and into college deliver greater social benefits or produce more efficient use of finite dollars? And what about governmental bias? (Recall the Americorps example of first steering participants to federal agencies.)
Rather than reinforcing individual citizen virtues, would the necessary bureaucratic ramp-ups and requirements only create more collective attitudes of government as giver and provider?
Some sort of hybrid seems more likely to be manageable and effective. Maybe instead of a full year of service, there's a required summer boot camp after high school commencement. Shipping freshly minted graduates off for a couple months of difficult training and disciplined development to faraway states and places could do wonders for breaking some unhealthy cycles for young people who may feel trapped in their situations.
A short-term change of scenery and lifestyle would also open some eyes, and possibly inspire 18-year-olds to realize just how big our country is, and how many wide-open spaces and wide-ranging opportunities truly exist for them.
A boot camp is far from full-fledged national service, but also more practical cost-wise. If it helped 18-year-olds broaden horizons and learn lessons, and steered even a small percentage of students away from college-dropout status, it'd be more than worthwhile.
A small taste of military-type rigor and routine might also make all young Americans more personally appreciative of what Memorial Day signifies.
Dana D. Kelley is a freelance writer from Jonesboro.