Why is it that the disgust of a "draft dodger" is so heavily ingrained in me?

Why is it that, when I discover or read that someone intentionally dodged the draft, I automatically assign them a small (but still obvious) stain of cowardice and irresponsibility?

Why is it that this continues even though I can at the same time recognize their desire to avoid the war, both the killing and the dying. I'm not even sure exactly what I would have done if I'd been in their situation.

I'm almost a little disgusted with myself, not for the reaction, but for the instinctiveness of the reaction that I've only now stopped to consider.

mood: contemplative
music: Ella Fitzgerald - "Misty"