I've been writing this story for a bit, it's supposed to be about a Vietnam soldier who is in the hospital.
But I can't finish it until I know more about the war. So....until then, this is where it starts.
“I didn’t ever get hit,” I tell him. “And don’t go callin’ me a coward, sayin’ that I’m not wounded ‘cuz I hid from the fightin’. Not me. I didn’t let my buddies face down the enemy alone. I just got lucky, is all. I seen my fair share of battle, all right, and that’s what my hurt is. Every single night I see ‘em again. I see my buddies goin’ down, bloody, torn up…dead, sometimes. That’s bad, you know. But to me, there’s somethin’ worse.
That’s when the bad guys are right close, and you can see their faces. You can see right into ‘em. They’re afraid, same as you. Maybe they don’t wanna be there, same as you. Maybe they don’t know why they’re fightin’, same as you. But somebody tol’ you, and somebody tol’ them, that you gotta fight. So you do, and they do, and one of you gets lucky, and one of you don’t. And that’s the worst. When you look at ‘em, and see that they’re people just like you. And maybe they got kids and a wife, or a girl back home, like me, I got a girl. Kate.
But you point your gun at ‘em and you kill ‘em anyway, ‘cuz if you don’t, they’ll get you. And you think, ‘Hell, that could have been me.’ And then you move on.
Made me sick to my stomach the first time, when I killed somebody right close-up like that.
That’s when I quit lookin’ at ‘em, lookin’ at their faces.
That’s what my hurt is, and it’s bad. So bad that the docs say I got shell-shock. Patton beat a guy up for that, you know. Slappin’ him and yellin’ at him. He didn’t think it was real, thought that poor sucker was makin’ it up. But I guess its real…I don’t know.
Sometimes I think I just got so sick of all the blood and the killin’. What’s it all for anyway?
‘Gotta stop the commies,’ they say. The commies, they’re bad, I know. We gotta stop ‘em, I guess. But I can’t take it no more.
That’s why I’m sittin’ here in the hospital. This is jus’ me thinkin’, passin’ the time. I been here for awhile. There’s a part of me that wants to go back, you know. I can’t let my boys face this alone. But when I sleep I hear him screamin'. I see his blood, and his face is just…gone. I look at my hands all covered in blood, can’t wipe it off. Happens every night, always the same. I wake up screamin’ and sweatin’. They gotta give me meds to calm me down. Can’t hardly eat, can’t sleep, and can’t fight ‘cuz I can’t eat or sleep.
I got a notice the other day, sayin’ I gotta go back. I’m scared stiff, don’t want any more of this hurtin’ and killin’ but I gotta go. ”
I’m tired now. All this talkin' has worn me out. All this explainin' so the guy in the hospital bed next to me, the guy who took a gunshot to the gut, won’t think I’m a coward.
“Maybe I talk too much,” I say.
Now it’s his turn to look at me hard. I can see that, just like I did with him, he wants to know if I’m tellin’ the truth. I’ve got that defensive feelin’ in my gut, sittin’ here with him scrutinizin’ me like that. He don’t say anything for a couple of long minutes. But I guess he must have seen the fight in my eyes, must have known from that I was tellin’ the honest truth.
“Son,” he finally says. “Like they say, war is hell. And you’re always going to have your brave men and you’re cowardly ones. You know you might get hit, cut up, might die, even. But you don’t know what kind of horrors you are going to see. And there’s nothing in this world that can prepare you for that. Like you said, in many cases, what you see is worse that what you feel. This wound I’ve got,” he gestures to his stomach. “This is going to heal. And then I’m not going to remember how it felt when I was hit or how sick and sore I was after half as well as I’m going to remember the images of my buddies bleeding and dying on the field. Some of us are better at blocking those memories than others.
Those images being burned into your brain like that, they don’t make you a coward. They just mean that you’ve seen some of the worst of the fighting, that’s why you’ve got those pictures in your head. Maybe a coward wouldn’t have seen all that.
But if you let this whip you, if you shirk your duty when your time comes because of this, then you are a coward. As soon as you are deemed fit for battle, then you had better go. And you had better do your damnedest because there are other men whose lives depend on you. If you let them down, then you are a coward. You said you were scared stiff. But you also said you’re going to go. And you are going to do your damned best back there because its you duty.
I want you to know that I respect you for that. It’s not easy, and I know that least of all between the two of us. I’m good at blocking those types of things. Maybe someday they’ll come back to haunt me and I’ll be in your position. But right now, it looks like I’m the lucky one.”
He was finished. I sure appreciated his words, all right. I think I needed to hear ‘em, to know that somebody else don’t think I’m a lesser man just because of this.
He was right though, about goin’ back. As much as I hate it, as much as it scares me to death, the honorable thing to do is to go. Like he said, I got buddies back there, and there's other guys back there, layin’ down their lives. It would be cowardly and plain mean of me to think I’m the only one who’s got this. I just got a break for awhile, is all.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Unintended Consequences
I went to the library today to do some reading for class, and ended up reading a book I noticed on the shelf, If I Die in a Combat Zone (Box Me Up and Ship Me Home), instead. It's incredible so far. Incredibly sad, touching, and thought-provoking.
The author is a Vietnam veteran who was drafted, and completed a tour in Vietnam, while being deeply opposed to the war throughout his experience. He talks a lot about cowardice and honor. How people look at each the wrong way. Is refusing to fight in a war you don't believe in cowardly? Courage is not simply running headlong towards the enemy. Courage, he says, "is the endurance of the soul in spite of fear." Courage is when, knowing what is right, you do it. It's not all bravery. It's wisdom, and strength, with a little bravery thrown in, too.
The other day, I was talking about technology. Today, most everyone has at least a TV, cell phone, and computer. And I feel weird, lost a little,when I don't have my phone by my side. Just sixty years ago, nobody had these things. Today they all feel so normal, and we expect Apple to come out with the next big thing.
So the 20th century saw the biggest, most impressive technological advancements in the history of the world.
The 20th century also saw the most brutality. The most lives lost. The most devastation.
A man thinks he is justified in wiping out an entire race, and then others try to follow in his footsteps. A country decides it's better to drop its most devastating weapon on innocent people rather than risk the loss of more military lives in the war it's waging, and then does it again. Fifty years following see the development of more of these types of bombs.
No one knows how many people Stalin killed, but I've heard between 12 and 60 million. Can you even imagine?
And I can't help but think, that technology made all of this possible.
Albert Eistein's theory of relativity helped other scientists in the later development of the atom bomb.
He later called it his most regrettable contribution to science. He never intended his discovery to lead to the loss of thousands upon thousands of lives.
How did technological advancements help the Soviets spy on their own people? Today, the number of nuclear weapons has gotten completely out of control, and we wage more wars to stop others from making them too.
It's disgusting, terrifying, how much horror the human race is capable and willing to inflict. Einstein's and others' discoveries weren't always intended to inflict harm, but others used them to do so.
Some people say, well, this or that war is justified. I ask, for whom, the soldiers who risk their lives fighting for leaders who treat them as pawns in a global game of chess? For the innocent women and children, the "collateral damage", dying for the "greater good"? I think people use that as an excuse.
Back to the courage thing. So many young men were brave in Vietnam, and so many died. They were brave whether they believed in the war or not. But America still lost. I guess I don't really have a point here.
Other than to say, nobody wanted all that to happen. Einstein wanted his discoveries to be used for good. America wanted to save the South Vietnamese from Communism. I want technology to save lives in the 21st century, not take them.
The author is a Vietnam veteran who was drafted, and completed a tour in Vietnam, while being deeply opposed to the war throughout his experience. He talks a lot about cowardice and honor. How people look at each the wrong way. Is refusing to fight in a war you don't believe in cowardly? Courage is not simply running headlong towards the enemy. Courage, he says, "is the endurance of the soul in spite of fear." Courage is when, knowing what is right, you do it. It's not all bravery. It's wisdom, and strength, with a little bravery thrown in, too.
The other day, I was talking about technology. Today, most everyone has at least a TV, cell phone, and computer. And I feel weird, lost a little,when I don't have my phone by my side. Just sixty years ago, nobody had these things. Today they all feel so normal, and we expect Apple to come out with the next big thing.
So the 20th century saw the biggest, most impressive technological advancements in the history of the world.
The 20th century also saw the most brutality. The most lives lost. The most devastation.
A man thinks he is justified in wiping out an entire race, and then others try to follow in his footsteps. A country decides it's better to drop its most devastating weapon on innocent people rather than risk the loss of more military lives in the war it's waging, and then does it again. Fifty years following see the development of more of these types of bombs.
No one knows how many people Stalin killed, but I've heard between 12 and 60 million. Can you even imagine?
And I can't help but think, that technology made all of this possible.
Albert Eistein's theory of relativity helped other scientists in the later development of the atom bomb.
He later called it his most regrettable contribution to science. He never intended his discovery to lead to the loss of thousands upon thousands of lives.
How did technological advancements help the Soviets spy on their own people? Today, the number of nuclear weapons has gotten completely out of control, and we wage more wars to stop others from making them too.
It's disgusting, terrifying, how much horror the human race is capable and willing to inflict. Einstein's and others' discoveries weren't always intended to inflict harm, but others used them to do so.
Some people say, well, this or that war is justified. I ask, for whom, the soldiers who risk their lives fighting for leaders who treat them as pawns in a global game of chess? For the innocent women and children, the "collateral damage", dying for the "greater good"? I think people use that as an excuse.
Back to the courage thing. So many young men were brave in Vietnam, and so many died. They were brave whether they believed in the war or not. But America still lost. I guess I don't really have a point here.
Other than to say, nobody wanted all that to happen. Einstein wanted his discoveries to be used for good. America wanted to save the South Vietnamese from Communism. I want technology to save lives in the 21st century, not take them.
Monday, March 21, 2011
[Control]
One of my best friends from childhood jokingly calls herself a control freak. When we get together, she’s the one who makes the plans, determines the time and day, and navigates our time together. I’m more of a go-with-the-flow kind of person, so stepping aside and letting her take control is fine with me. But it does lead me to ponder the idea of control. Are we ever really “in control”? With so many social forces moving independently, should we even try to control…anything? People resist it, the world defies it, and it leaves the “controller” frustrated at the very least, at most, failing.
But still we seek control. We want to control our lives, the world, our friends’ lives. We seek control in less obvious ways.
At my university, Relay for Life is the biggest on-campus event of the year. Students campaign for months, eventually raising a couple hundred thousand dollars for cancer research every year. Their slogan is “Let’s Celebrate More Birthdays”. By funding cancer research, contributors can (potentially) help loved ones fight cancer, live longer, see their next birthday. A minimum donation of $10 gets you into the event.
I never went.
People think they can “cure” a disease. Forever. Eradicate it. Eliminate pain and death. Relay for Lifers seek to control cancer.
Sometimes, I think people with terminal illnesses are lucky. They learn how to appreciate every minute in ways no one else can. When you expect your life to march before you in unending (seemingly) succession, its easy to forget its transience. People pass around the old adage “don’t take life for granted” like they actually mean it. But these same people are the ones who live by the clock, follow a daily 9 to 5 schedule. The busy, boring, people. They don’t mean the phrase the way ill people do. Terminally ill people were often once the people who worked 9 to 5, too. The ones who got so busy managing the basic necessities of life – eating, sleeping, family, money – just like the rest of us. But now, the endless stretch of life before them has a big red STOP sign somewhere down the road, visible and inevitable. So the seconds, minutes, days before the STOP sign march to a beat. “This is it,” they say. “My LAST day, my LAST time here, LAST, LAST, LAST!” They learn how not to take life for granted.
I wish I could learn how to do that – appreciate the “last-ness” of days and minutes, the finiteness of my existence. But unlike those Relay for Lifers, I’m not seeking to control life.
I think there is beauty in chaos. The suspense, the not knowing, the surprises. These are gifts from life. Every event has beauty within it, lessons for us and for future generations. Control stifles life’s spirit.
I’m not saying more birthdays are a bad thing.
And I’m not saying I want to die of cancer, either…… (STOP)
But still we seek control. We want to control our lives, the world, our friends’ lives. We seek control in less obvious ways.
At my university, Relay for Life is the biggest on-campus event of the year. Students campaign for months, eventually raising a couple hundred thousand dollars for cancer research every year. Their slogan is “Let’s Celebrate More Birthdays”. By funding cancer research, contributors can (potentially) help loved ones fight cancer, live longer, see their next birthday. A minimum donation of $10 gets you into the event.
I never went.
People think they can “cure” a disease. Forever. Eradicate it. Eliminate pain and death. Relay for Lifers seek to control cancer.
Sometimes, I think people with terminal illnesses are lucky. They learn how to appreciate every minute in ways no one else can. When you expect your life to march before you in unending (seemingly) succession, its easy to forget its transience. People pass around the old adage “don’t take life for granted” like they actually mean it. But these same people are the ones who live by the clock, follow a daily 9 to 5 schedule. The busy, boring, people. They don’t mean the phrase the way ill people do. Terminally ill people were often once the people who worked 9 to 5, too. The ones who got so busy managing the basic necessities of life – eating, sleeping, family, money – just like the rest of us. But now, the endless stretch of life before them has a big red STOP sign somewhere down the road, visible and inevitable. So the seconds, minutes, days before the STOP sign march to a beat. “This is it,” they say. “My LAST day, my LAST time here, LAST, LAST, LAST!” They learn how not to take life for granted.
I wish I could learn how to do that – appreciate the “last-ness” of days and minutes, the finiteness of my existence. But unlike those Relay for Lifers, I’m not seeking to control life.
I think there is beauty in chaos. The suspense, the not knowing, the surprises. These are gifts from life. Every event has beauty within it, lessons for us and for future generations. Control stifles life’s spirit.
I’m not saying more birthdays are a bad thing.
And I’m not saying I want to die of cancer, either…… (STOP)
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