Robert Romer: 1972—Vietnam War protests at Westover Air
Force Base, Chicopee, Massachusetts
During the Vietnam War, Robert Romer committed acts of civil disobedience
(actions in which one breaks the law to follow one’s conscience
with the hope of bringing about political change). He remembers, “The
only time[s] that I've ever got arrested were for sitting down
on the road in front of Westover Air Force Base...”
This map indicates United States’ mines planted in North Vietnamese Ports.
In a televised broadcast on May 8, 1972, President Richard Nixon
announced that he had ordered the mining of North Vietnamese
harbors. The objective was to cut off military supplies to Hanoi,
the capitol of North Vietnam. The next day, an Associated Press
article appearing in the Greenfield Recorder, a western Massachusetts
newspaper, reported that while Washington awaited international
response to the President’s announcement, “demonstrations against
Nixon’s action were in progress within hours on at least four
of the nation’s campuses.” Robert Romer recalls that the second
time he protested at the Westover Air Force Base, “the president
of Amherst College decided to join the protest and there were
quite a few hundred Amherst College faculty and students, and
we all went down and sat together.” Amherst College President
John William Ward wrote about his decision to the students of
the college. His letter was published in the New York Times on
March 13, 1972. He wrote, in part:
What I protest is not what has been done. What is done is
done. No word of mine, no word of yours will change it. What
I protest is what may come next. What I protest is there is
no way to protest. I speak out of frustration and deep despair.
John Dos Passos once wrote, ‘we only have words against Power...’
I do not think words will now change the minds of men in power
who make those decisions. I do not. Since I do not, I do not
care to write letters to the world. Instead, I will, for myself,
join in the act of passive civil disobedience... [More of this
letter can be read by following the link below.]
Associated Press Wire-photo. Published on the front page of
the Greenfield Recorder on May 9, 1972.
A political cartoon with the ironic title “Fourth Year of the
‘Plan To End The War’ (Contd.)” illustrates the results of President
Nixon’s then-recent decision to have mines placed in North Vietnamese
ports so that the Soviet Union would be unable to deliver military
supplies to North Vietnam. Prior to being elected President in
1968, Richard Nixon promised that he had a secret plan to end
the Vietnam War. Despite this campaign promise, the United States
invaded Cambodia and intensified bombings in North Vietnam during
the years of his Presidency. The artist refers to this broken
commitment in the title of the political cartoon illustrated
here. Published in the Greenfield Recorder on May 15, 1972.
Audio Clip #1:
Getting arrested at Westover Air Force Base
Wait for the file to download, then click the arrow to play the audio.
I never got arrested on the Amherst Common. We had a vigil.
I spent a lot of time Sunday mornings, silent vigils protesting
the Vietnam War on the Amherst Common. The only time that I’ve
ever got arrested were for sitting down on the road in front
of Westover Air Force Base, which is—what?—ten,
twenty miles from Amherst. In the spring of ’72 at the time
of the bombing of the Hanoi Harbor and a group of us, motivated
by a Quakers—I’m not religious, I’m not even a Quaker—but
I decided to go and join the protest at Westover Air Force
Base, and commit civil disobedience. We were protesting the
escalation of the war in Vietnam by blocking the entrance to
Westover Air Force Base and, I actually did it twice. I wasn’t
with the very first group who did it. The first time I went
and deliberately joined the civil disobedience, there was about
six or ten of us I think. It was a cold, rainy day, early May,
I think, and as I say, there were not very many of us, and
we walked out into the road in front of the main gate at Westover
and sat down. And that was a little scary because there weren’t
that many of us, as I said, and one side was the gate with
MPs with unpleasant-looking guard dogs; on the other side there
were workers in their cars waiting to get into their shifts,
and we were blocking the road. There was always possible that
one of them would say, “The hell with these peaceniks” and
step on the gas and run over some of us. And it was also cold.
I got arrested and charged with Disorderly Conduct, which wasn’t
true, and Disturbing the Peace, which was kind of ridiculous ‘cause
I wasn’t—I mean, that was the whole idea—I
wasn’t disturbing the peace; I was trying to help bring it.
And Obstructing a Public Highway—well, I could hardly
deny the latter, so...Anyhow, they stuck us on a bus, they
took us down to the police station, they finger printed us,
they put us in a jail cell for a few hours, and then some nice
man who volunteered to be our lawyer came and got us out. I
didn’t even spend the night in jail, but, it was pretty peaceful.
I’ve never been arrested before, or since. I was arrested again
the next week, but, except for those two occasions, that’s
the extent of my criminal record. And, you know, they were
only misdemeanors.
And the second time was much more of a circus, as there was—this
had been building up during the intervening week, and then
the president of Amherst College decided to join the protest
and there were quite a few hundred Amherst College faculty
and students, and we all went down and sat together and that
was not scary at all cause there was so many people. But it
was the same thing, put on a bus, we caused a lot of trouble
for the Chicopee police. Some of us actually wrote some checks
to the Town of Chicopee to help defray their extra police costs
afterwards and then, when it came up in court, both times I
was charged with Disorderly Conduct, Disturbing the Peace, and
Obstructing a Public Highway, and since two of the three things
I was charged with I didn’t do, and one I did, I deci[ded to]—compromise,
I pleaded guilty once, and I pleaded “no lo” once
and I think I was fined $10 or something and, it sounds kind
of light-hearted now, I guess. I didn’t think of it that way
at the time—even if there’s no risk involved and even
if it’s something like sitting down on a highway with no risk
at all, there’s something symbolic about deliberately breaking
the law and being willing to pay the penalty, which might have
been a month in jail, or it might have been a serious fine,
or it might be nothing, and, don’t really know, but there’s
something symbolically important. It’s not something you do
lightly, even if it’s a misdemeanor, which it, without a serious
penalty, something important about doing it.
