N H Gazette

Portsmouth 4/11/03
Non-Violent Direct Action by Vietnam Veteran
By Paul Pat Morse 4/14/03

In a well organized and orchestrated event with split second timing, supporting peace activists blocked Market Square traffic in downtown Portsmouth Friday evening while I lay down in the street. As vehicles were coming into the square I stepped out into the crosswalk with several barricades and blocked traffic with them. Vehicles were stopped by the barricades as other supporters streamed onto the crosswalk carrying signs. I am a former Sargent in the United States Air Force and a Vietnam veteran and as I watched yet another war unfold, I felt it was time for me to go beyond vigiling in Market Square and make a symbolic gesture to slow down the killing in Iraq.
A number of things were coming together to compel me to do this action. I felt that I wanted to help reenergize the local peace movement by taking part in a non-violent direct action. This type of action was done last fall when the Newington Five occupied Senator Gregg¹s office and had a very positive effect on the peace movement here. Since that time the war against Iraq had gotten into full swing and the overall effect on the anti-war movement was disheartening. It seemed apparent that we needed some type of forward movement or catalyst that we could use as a stepping stone to get up out of this slump.
I¹ve watched over the years as our system of democracy has been usurped by big money interests, culminating in the Supreme Court appointment of George Bush as President. Bush and other powerful people have pushed us into this illegal war with Iraq where people have been dying by the thousands going back to 1991. On April 9th we looked on in amazement as five defendants were convicted of criminal trespass for trying to get a coherent and honest response from our representative, Senator Judd Gregg. This trial, called a mockery by some, was presided over by Judge Sharon DeVries who abdicated her responsibility under Article VI of the U.S. constitution, which states that "treaties madeŠ..by the United States shall be the supreme Law of the Land, and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby".
Principle VII of the Nuremberg Tribunals states that "complicity in the commission of a crime against peace, a war crime, or a crime against humanity is a crime under international law". I knew that if I stood by any longer and failed to try my best to stop these crimes I would be complicit in them. I didn¹t think that lying in the street would stop the war but a symbolic gesture would state clearly that I would not be complicit in crimes against peace.
Just before the action in Market Square began, about thirty vigilers and supporters gathered together in the square. I made a short speech and announcement about what I intended to do. During my speech, several pro-war demonstrators tried a number of times to shout me down and held their signs in front of my face. One of them, Craig Henne, had stated earlier to me that he believed we have the right to free speech but not the right to be heard. From his actions, I would say Henne is a fair weather first amendment friend. When I was actually exercising my first amendment rights he reverted to fascist tactics, trying to keep others from hearing what I was saying. Another "patriot" tried to keep me from speaking by pushing his pro-war signs in my face.
I spoke about the lies George Bush has been telling regarding United States¹ involvement in Iraq. Several points I made were that "the casualty list from the war would continue to mount for endless generations to come because we are using depleted uranium weapons with a half-life of 4.5 billion years". I also deplored the fact that the US Army was standing idly by while "Iraqi cities were being looted and sacked". I finished by saying, "we are better than thisŠŠwe can rise to a higher level". I actually had more to say but by this time events seemed to have taken on a schedule of their own. I knew it was time to stop talking and head for the street.
As I lay in the street with a steady rain coming down on my face the scene turned somewhat surreal. I heard car horns, police sirens, people yelling. Yet I felt a great calmness, even euphoria, as I lay there. Even the rain felt good. One of the reasons that I was lying there was to be in solidarity with the people in Iraq who were being killed. Perhaps I had somehow joined them in spirit. I knew that I would be arrested shortly and was no longer nervous, as I had been all day.
I was then approached by the police and told to move to the curb. When I refused to acknowledge the officer, he grabbed my hand and yanked me. I immediately stood up and followed his lead as he told me that I was under arrest. As he was walking me across the square he pulled my hands behind my back and put handcuffs on my wrists. I heard people calling my name and felt a strong surge of emotion as tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to pay attention to my breathing during this time because doing that has always helped me, in the past, to remain somewhat calm and focused.
The handcuffs felt very tight, harsh, and uncomfortable and even ended up chaffing my wrists, leaving red marks and swelling around them. The officer opened the door to his car and put me in the back seat, which was made of very hard molded plastic. I looked out the car window and saw my daughter, Annie, and wife, Linda standing at the curb. I sat there for some minutes because the arresting officer, Officer Sheldon, had apparently misplaced his keys and couldn¹t open the front door of his cruiser. As I sat there, Annie kept yelling words of support and encouragement. I felt tremendous pride, as a father, to see my daughter standing there, calling out with her powerful voice.
As we were driving to the station, I remarked on the hard plastic seats and Officer Sheldon told me they were made that way because a lot of people would urinate or vomit while they were back there and they made it easier to clean them up afterwards.
We arrived at the police station and went into a spare, cinderblock room with little adornment on the walls and an ell shaped counter in one corner. Behind the tall counter there was a computer. The handcuffs were taken off; I was searched, and told to take off my jacket, sweater, belt, and hat. I was told to sit in a chair that was bolted to the floor. They took my name, date of birth, place of birth, address, and social security number. After that I was led into a small room where my mug shot was taken with a digital camera and my fingerprints were taken with an electronic scanner.
During my time at the station I talked with Officer Sheldon and Officer Munson, who stated that he felt fine about our protesting but he had a real problem with any Civil Disobedience. I offered that CD was an American tradition dating back to the Boston Tea Party and the American Revolution. Officer Munson was aghast that I would compare what was happening today to the Revolution. I told him that I was merely pointing out the CD tradition. At this point Officer Sheldon said we really shouldn¹t be talking politics and that we could agree to disagree.
Later, Officer Munson said to me, as I was being fingerprinted, that he had only been stating his opinion. I agreed that we both had our opinions and it was good to talk.
While I was at the police station I had wondered several time why I hadn¹t been read my "rights". I had seen enough of NYPD Blue and other TV shows and movies to be convinced that reading the suspect his or her rights was part of the process. I actually thought at one point that perhaps that had been done away with. Nevertheless, I kept these thoughts to myself and figured I would ask about it at a later time.
By this time I had developed some rapport with the police officers and because they could see that I was polite and respectful they became more respectful toward me.
At this point I was told that I would be released on personal recognizance if I paid $30 to the bail commissioner. I refused to post bail and was told that I would be taken to Rockingham County Jail for the weekend if I didn¹t. I acknowledged this and again refused bail.
The officers were visibly disturbed by the fact that I didn¹t want to post bail. When they asked why, I tried to explain that not posting bail was all part of my CD action. They just seemed to think it was crazy that I wouldn¹t want to go home on personal recognizance if I could. I told them that I would promise to come to court if they released me with no bail, which, I said, was the true form of personal recognizance, but they said no.
Later, unknown to me, my wife, Linda, and daughter, Annie came to the station and paid the $30 bail commissioner¹s fee. The police who told them that¹s what I had wanted had actually tricked them into paying the fee. The police then wanted to release me but I refused at that time to sign the bail papers, which stated that I would have to appear in court or forfeit $500. I would also be subject to certain other conditions such as "keeping the peace and being of good behavior" until my court appearance. Again, I refused to sign. The officers then had a huddle with the bail commissioner and decided that they would mark the papers "refused to sign".
The officers then handed me my jacket and things and had me sign a paper that I had received my articles back. I thought they were going to take me to the county jail at that point but they said the famous words, "You are free to go".
I was pleasantly surprised and when I stepped out into the reception room and saw my happy family waiting.

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