Thanks, Jo, for your remembrance of the historical March on the Pentagon. I
will add a few comments to your excellent sketch of the events.
As the March got underway toward the Pentagon we encountered a new fence
which prevented the March from going toward the front entrance and the
General's parking lot and funneled the protestors to the rear (service)
entrance. Subtle enough but picture the Brass deciding, "Well, if we have
to put up with them, lets let them protest where the garbage gets picked
up." I know the fence was new because when we looked the situation over a
week earlier it was not there. Well, we just got about a hundred people to
rock that six foot tall chain link fence until the poles bent like twigs and
we laid that fence down! It amazed me what human power could do. Kind of
like the story of the Wobblies shaking the jails apart from the inside. We
redirected the March across the lawn toward the front entrance. Our mistake
was not leaving a group behind to maintain the breach. Some "parade
marshals" plugged the hole and the bulk of the crowd missed the opportunity
to assault the front entrance. "After all", they claimed, "our permit was
for the north lot." "Sure", we said, "but we want to shut down the
Pentagon, not its garbage."
Many of the Protestors heard of our efforts at the entrance and came around
to the raised parking lot to stay the night. By than most of the "leaders"
were in jail or Washington Hotels and we didn't know how long the permit was
for but we weren't going to give up our position without a fight. Thus the
"Armies of the Night" fought the 82ed Airborne for possession of the
entrance to the Pentagon.
The attack by the "Wedge" of black suited soldiers, the "egging of the
Generals", the defection of soldiers to the crowd...movie version to be
Indeed, at dawn the group I was with was split off from the main body of
Protestors and we decided a-la Guerilla fighters to take the fight elsewhere
and headed off to the White House which we found unguarded in the early dawn
hour. As we stood at the gate we debated climbing over the wrought iron
fence and sprinting across the lawn to "wake up" LBJ since our chants of
"HEY HEY LBJ, HOW MANY KIDS WILL YOU KILL TODAY" didn't seem to be getting
any attention. "We can't do that, they will shoot us down and claim they
couldn't be sure we weren't like the Puerto Ricans who were armed" someone
said. "Well than", my brilliant mind working..."lets strip down and run up
the lawn to the porch and they can't claim we were armed if they shoot us."
As we debated this unique idea and some of us managed to get our shirts off,
we heard a roar of motors and up rushed about 30 Washington DC motorcycle
cops who jumped off their bikes and proceeded to kick the hell out of us,
clubbing us away from the gate. I didn't see anybody picking any flowers,
just running for their lives! The ones knocked out or down could have been
charged with picking flowers or whatever the police wanted to charge them
with. Well, that's how my weekend in DC ended. Sometimes when I think
about that weekend it has another ending....
Mike Garrison, email@example.com
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