This story is part of a series called "Faces of the Vietnam War." Recently, KQED asked our audience to submit their stories about the Vietnam War. We heard from refugees, military veterans, journalists, activists and more. This story comes from San Mateo resident David Meisenheimer, who gave up his student deferment from the draft because he felt it was too privileged. 

In the mid-'60s, while I was a high school student, I was in support of U.S. involvement in Vietnam. In the Bay Area, there was an increasing amount of voices opposing the war. I explored information available in our high school library that convinced me our politicians were not providing the complete story.

We really were not getting accurate information. That really shaped everything that happened to me for the rest of my life. It definitely made me think, and I wasn't gonna naturally accept what my government said to me ever again from that time forward.

When it came time to register to vote, I chose "declines to state." I had (have) no faith in our political "leaders" to tell the truth about anything. I did not consider the politicians to be leaders. I felt they were more interested in their own position than they were their constituents.

In March of 1968, I turned 18 and registered for the draft. That fall, I started college and received a student deferment. Before the end of that year, I had dropped out of school and lost my student deferment. I went back to school for the 1969 spring semester. I wanted my student deferment back, and I went to Berkeley seeking assistance from the draft resistance. Their solution was for me to immediately leave the country, and they told me they had resources that would help me do that.

Instead, I returned to the library. I went through a copy of the Selective Service Act and located a paragraph that outlined a process for having a student deferment reinstated. I followed that process and my student deferment was reinstated.

At the same time, I became aware that a disproportionate number of draftees were people of color because college was not an option for so many young men of color as it was to white males. I felt like it wasn't right for me, as a white male, to have a student deferment. So, I gave up my student deferment and decided to apply for conscientious objector status.

By late spring of 1969, my draft board had sent me notice to report for my physical. I had not had a ruling on my CO status, but I knew what I would do at my physical. By this time, I had read about others who refused to accept the military oath after passing their physicals. I knew what to expect and I was prepared to deal with those consequences whatever they might have been.

It was now June and time for school finals. I had an English professor who helped with a letter submitted to my draft board that said my physical was scheduled for the same day as my final, and that was the only day I would be able to take the final. The board excused me from my physical appointment.

The board had also denied my initial request for CO status and I began the appeal process. I did receive two more notices to report for physicals over the next several months, but because I was still in the appeal process I did not have to report. I appeared before my draft board as part of the appeal process and it did last for many months.

Eventually, I was awarded CO status. The only draft card I ever signed was the one I received with my CO status. No doubt I received CO status more because of the military's need to process young men who were not resisting than I did for my moral convictions. Regardless, I felt a sense of accomplishment.

I really felt like the people who refused induction -- those people were the heroes for me. I know that even to this day they're not viewed that way. They were sometimes viewed as having taken the easy way out. Sometimes they were viewed as cowards, but I feel like those people -- they were really heroes. They really did love their country and they did exactly what was right.

I know initially my opposition to Vietnam caused strain in my relationship with my dad. He was a World War II veteran and he did support the war effort early on, as did I. He was really impacted by the Second World War and, like almost everybody, he believed that the United States had to stand up to what was going on in Vietnam. But with time and numerous conversations, as well as so many stories unfolding in the press, my dad changed his feelings about the war and was strongly opposed to our involvement.

(Editor's note: When KQED asked Meisenheimer about his strained relationship with his dad, he said it wasn't any different from a disagreement any 18-year-old would have with his father.)

It strikes me that at this point -- 50 years later -- there's still all this strong emotion about, "Yes, we should have been there," or "No, we shouldn't have been there."

I don't feel that has changed and much of what I see happening in our country today reminds me of the turbulent '60s. There's this sense that you've got these opposing sides and people aren't listening to one another. They're not trying to be thoughtful about what's going on. They're just reacting and there are all of these really strong feelings that people are so willing to shoot at other people, and nobody's hearing what anybody else has to say.

Meisenheimer's essay has been edited for clarity, and material from his interview with KQED has been added to provide greater detail.

KQED's Sonja Hutson and Bert Johnson produced this report.