Soldiering On
Veterans go from war zone to school zone at BU
It’s easy to mistake James Oakley for a professor rather than a student. His age (33 on February 18), attire (lavender V-neck sweater, tie, and dress slacks for a recent interview), clean shave, and his tendency to address people as Mr. or Mrs. contribute to the impression. But Oakley’s demeanor hails not from faculty status, but from the U.S. Navy.
Oakley (SED’14) will tell you that his experience commanding boats hunting contraband off Iraq and his years of ever-changing work shifts actually prepared him for life as a doctoral candidate at the School of Education, and for the unorthodox rhythms of student life.
“The boat’s always moving, 24/7,” he says. “So staying up late, getting up early, that stuff—not a problem. If you didn’t get a shower—not a big deal. Five minutes to eat? That’s fine.”
As a teaching aide who visits local public schools, Oakley gives school restrooms the white-glove inspection, another hangover from his military service. “If you can keep a clean bathroom,” he says, “then there’s a lot of other things you can do pretty well, too.”
This semester, 223 veterans attend BU through tuition aid programs such as the venerable G.I. Bill, first enacted during World War II, which enabled more than 17 million service members from that war, Korea, and Vietnam to receive education or vocational training, before the current influx of vets on campus.
“Our veterans are ordinary individuals who have made extraordinary sacrifices,” says associate registrar Richard Rook. “They bring to BU both diversity and unique and enlightening perspectives that you can’t get from the evening news or an engaging classroom discussion. They possess leadership skills, are self-disciplined and mission-driven, making them model students.”
All have been shaped by their service—and sometimes haunted by it.
Ross Caputi (CAS’11), 26, appalled by the civilian deaths and suffering he witnessed as a Marine rifleman and radio operator in Iraq—he fought in the second siege of Fallujah in 2004, a bloodbath in which “we destroyed the entire city”—turned against the war and obtained a general discharge under honorable conditions. Today, he dubs the American war effort “genocide.”
“I don’t think I learned anything positive in the military,” he says. “I certainly didn’t get any skills, unless sweeping and mopping are skills.”
President of the student Anti-War Coalition, Caputi (above) says he’s hopes to expand the organization and bring speakers to campus to discuss circumstances in Iraq. He says his war experiences shaped his decision to major in linguistics, as he believes that studying language and semantics “helps you to see through the rhetoric” of war supporters.
James Smith (MET’12), a 29-year-old native Bostonian, notched two 15-month tours in Iraq during eight years in the Army. As a sergeant stationed in Baghdad and Tikrit, he supervised parts replacements for vehicles, and frequently heard mortar fire flying over his base. In that environment, possible death is “always in the back of your mind,” he says.
Smith, who is now studying criminal justice, is often the oldest student in his classes and the only vet. “It’s kind of cool,” he says. “People ask you questions” about the service, and one classmate sounded him out about enlisting herself. Like Oakley, he says the regimen in the Army—up mornings at 5:30, physical training at 6:30, before breakfast—taught him time management and discipline in getting his schoolwork done. “I spend some time socializing, but I’ve had my fun,” he says. “I’ve been to 19 different countries. It’s time for me to finish my degree, get my career going.”
His only regret is that attending college at an older age means passing on experiences like dorm living. The upside? All that mortar fire makes one take the usual difficulties of college life in stride. “I tend to stress less over, say, a deadline on a paper,” he says. “That just comes from experience.”
Smith may be older than his classmates, but he’s a mere youth compared to 53-year-old Lt. Col. Diana Hoek (SPH’12), an Army reservist studying for a master’s in public health. Hoek’s life is a swirl of responsibilities: her studies, a job at the Massachusetts Public Health Department, and her Reserve obligations, plus volunteer work and family life with her husband and two children (ages 24 and 21). She says the military’s regimented life didn’t only teach her how to organize this jumble, but puts even a hectic civilian life in perspective.
“For years after I graduated from college, I would awaken in a panic over dreams of unfinished papers,” she says. But after a year in Tikrit, from 2006 to 2007, as a hospital dietitian, “frequently hearing explosions and surviving without post-traumatic stress disorder, I decided I could handle graduate school.” (Racing to finish papers is a small sacrifice compared to being away at war and missing your daughter’s senior year in high school.)
Adapting to student life has been harder for some than others. “It has been a tough transition” to BU, Caputi says. His role in the war makes him “feel extremely guilty,” and allegations of child birth defects from U.S. weapons used in Fallujah are “not easy to live with.”
It’s easier for Smith. “Being a student and being a soldier kind of go hand in hand,” he says. “You’ve got to work hard.” Of course, “nobody’s trying to shoot at you as a student,” but on the other hand, academia can demand more initiative than the Army. “You don’t have someone yelling in your ear to get up in the morning.”
Rich Barlow can be reached at barlowr@bu.edu.
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