“What Kind of a Man Are You That You Don’t Want to Carry a Gun?” Oliver’s Story About the Defense Resources Agency’s Medical Committee

Üksindus ja Kaitseressursside Ameti arstlik komisjon

Oliver (name changed) shares his experience with the Defense Resources Agency’s medical committee a few years ago. The editorial team has confirmed the connection to the committee and the final decision, but no other details.

Compulsory military service in Estonia has been the country’s central pillar of defense for decades, but my personal experience on this journey revealed several shortcomings in the system.

It all started with a military service flyer in the mailbox. At 17, all young men who are Estonian citizens become conscripts and are expected to take a medical examination and start their service after graduating from high school. Initially, I planned to join the military for 8 months, but the older I got, the more my preference leaned toward alternative service.

The more I heard about conscription, the less attractive it seemed. My brother served in the service once and had nothing good to say about it. I have also heard from many people that the career officers who deal with conscripts are sometimes uneducated individuals who can make a living in the hierarchy and abuse their power. In addition, conscription seemed very long because, in my opinion, one could complete the basic soldier’s course in 3-4 months without it interfering with life too much.

They immediately said that there were no alternative service positions at the moment, that I’d better go to university, that I’d change my mind, and that I would eventually want to join the Defence Forces.

After graduating high school, I was sure I wanted to do alternative service. By then, I had realized that killing only brings more violence into the world, and I did not want to carry a weapon or be part of such a system. I had not yet received an invitation, but on my initiative, I went to the Defense Resources Agency (KRA) to express my desire to do alternative service. They immediately said that there were no alternative service positions at the moment, that I’d better go to university, that I’d change my mind, and that I would eventually want to join the Defence Forces. Ultimately, the bureaucrats had no choice but to approve my application. They also gave me an appointment for a medical examination, which was to take place in four months.

Oliver and the KRA Medical Committee: Expectations and Reality

The first contact with the KRA officers was unpleasant and wasted time. They advised on how to live life and took the alternative service application critically and not very seriously, in the style of “What kind of man are you that you don’t want to carry a gun and run around in the forest?” The general attitude left the impression that no one was taken seriously there. Young men were treated as imbeciles who knew nothing about life. An endless process of justification and self-justification began.

“What kind of a man are you that you don’t want to carry a gun and run around in the woods?”

The committee day began early in the morning in dark and dreary hospital rooms. Over 60 people were invited to one of the committee days. First, we had to fill out a questionnaire with health information, and then we had to wait in line for about 12 hours. First, I went to a so-called physical therapist, who assessed my physical condition and asked: “Is there anything worrying you?” I answered “no”. Then, I was referred to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist looked at my digital history, which showed that I had been to a psychiatrist many times before. I explained my condition honestly. He found that I was not eligible for alternative or military service and marked my papers as “temporarily unfit”.

Finally, I visited the head doctor. He checked my weight and blood pressure, looked at the other doctors’ notes, and saw that the psychiatrist had declared me temporarily unfit. I asked, “What happens now?” The head doctor said I would get a year’s extension to continue seeing the psychiatrist and treating myself. With that, by 7 p.m., my committee process was over, and unlike the others, I was not referred to a cardiologist or other specialists.

In my opinion, this system worked like the Soviet bureaucracy. KRA employees and doctors came to work and did their part. There were a lot of people, and that’s how it went. I was forced to accept that I would have to wait a little longer to move on with my life.

More Questions Than Answers the Second Time

A year passed, and I had been to a psychiatrist in the meantime. I had to appear before the committee again. The exact process was repeated, but this time, I only had to go to the psychiatrist and the chief physician. The doctors changed at the committee, so I was seen by another psychiatrist, who again concluded that I was still temporarily unfit for service. I asked how long this would last and whether I would have to attend committees like this for years. The answer was: “It seems so, maybe you will get better, come back in six months.”

The doctor reviewed my records and was surprised I had been put on hold for so long.

Another half a year passed, and I went to the military service again. For some reason, I was referred to a physical therapist again, even though I had no additional physical problems in the meantime. Then, I had to go to a third psychiatrist. The respectable old-school psychiatrist thoroughly investigated why I had been going to committees for so long and what was wrong with me. I explained that I had some problems, but a psychiatrist was treating me. Although life was difficult then, I was still ready to serve my country if necessary, if I was found fit. The doctor reviewed the records and was surprised I had been put on hold for so long. He said that my diagnosis was unlikely to improve and admitted that I was unfit for service. The KRA officials issued a document stating that I had been assigned to the reserve and was unfit. Thus ended my nearly two-year process with the KRA medical committee.

“A True Man” and Soviet Era Traditions

The idea that a “true man” does military service is still deeply rooted in Estonian society. In theory, I have nothing against restructuring the system and expanding the possibilities for alternative services. Unfortunately, the KRA officials were arrogant and indifferent, and the whole experience badly affected me. Not knowing what would happen next caused a lot of confusion. For almost two years, life was on pause in a sense. I was afraid to take on significant responsibilities because I never knew whether I would be called up for service or not.

I have met several people who were in the same or similar situation. One man had been in front of the committee for four years in a row. You could say he became a “veteran” of the system.

One man had been in front of the committee for four years in a row. You could say he became a “veteran” of the system.

I don’t know what the process looks like today, but it was inhumane back then. As a small country, Estonia shouldn’t treat its people as if they were herded in masses and only superficially checked to see if they were fit for service. The process should be more individual and flexible, not full of pointless bureaucracy and paperwork.

The constant procrastination and ambiguity from the committee in the spirit of “we’ll see” lasted for a year and a half, and I realized that officials primarily don’t care what happens in your life. They have hundreds of new faces every year.

How to Improve the System? Individuality and Flexibility Are the Keywords

Conscription in the Estonian context has been largely copied from the Soviet system. The media reports that health requirements are being lowered, and efforts are being made to recruit as many people as possible, including potentially dangerous ones. The medical committee probably still works like a factory conveyor belt, where young men go from office to office, where the doctor talks to them for a few minutes and then postpones them. Alternative service continues to be very limited; for example, getting into an alternative service in the rescue force was less likely than winning the lottery.

The medical committee probably still works like a factory conveyor belt, with young men going from office to office, where the doctor talks to them for a few minutes and then push them on.

There is a lot of waiting in the current conscription system. Conscripts called up for eight months do not receive any special specialization but pass six months after completing the basic soldier’s course. It is also heard how young men who came into service earlier bully or belittle those who came later (e.g., 11-month conscripts vs. eight-month conscripts). This is also a “nice” tradition from the Soviet army. Recently, there have been reports that conscription is being changed to two years for some—this is already the height of absurdity.

It is also incomprehensible that only men must go into service; women are not obligated. The reason often given is that women give birth and men defend the country, but the birth rate is still historically low. In my opinion, women should also have at least some kind of mandatory alternative service. So, does everyone defend the country or only a professional paid army? The current conscription seems inflexible and pointlessly long. For example, in the context of the defense forces, special courses could be offered through universities that would integrate education and service. Currently, however, everyone has to go to a military base or alternative service if there are places.

Don’t Let the System Break You

The call-up and processing process should be much more individual and faster. Keeping people running around the committee for several years is pointless, as it creates unnecessary stress and tension. The whole experience made me despise the system. I went with an open mind, but the first contact with KRA officials caused reluctance, and things were no better at the committee. I completely understand why some young men avoid compulsory service at all costs.

I went with an open mind, but the first contact with KRA officials caused reluctance, and things were no better at the committee.

I recommend that future or current candidates have strong nerves and faith that this process will not last forever. If you have any health problems, talk about them to the committee. Of course, you should also see a doctor and deal with your concerns, but do not be afraid to explain your situation directly to the doctors on the committee.

I just wanted to share my experience and describe the process years ago. I don’t know exactly how much better it is today, but I’ve heard that the system has been tightened up even more because of the war in Ukraine. They need people, people who shouldn’t be doing it due to physical or mental health issues may be recruited. Finally, don’t let the committee or the KRA get to your head. Make the best decisions for yourself.



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