The Things They Carried – Tim O’Brien

This book reminded me of a conversation that I had with my grandmother several months ago.  We were talking about the effects war has on people and that brought up the subject of her oldest child and only son, my uncle Donnie. He died several years ago during a motorcycle accident, so it’s rare to have conversations about him with her. She told me of how it was for him, for all of them (the family), when he returned from the war. How there was this change in him. He left as this bright eyed kid of 18, connected to his family and returned this hardened and lost man who had seen more than his 20 years should have. How several times she and my grandfather had gotten calls in the middle of night to come and try to talk my uncle down from rooftops. How for seven years following, they would follow him in the middle of the night (per advice from the army therapist) as he would sleep walk to bridges in the town and on occasion try to jump off of them.

 My memories of him are of a big round jolly red faced biker guy (who I could always count on) …..he is always laughing in my memories….but as an adult now, and putting all of my pieces together of him, I realize the jolly was just a facade of sorts, that he couldn’t cope with the pain that he had been exposed to so many years before…..the jolly was the whiskey he drank, the motorcycle was his way to keep on going fast, to not get caught….

 I can’t help but to wonder what he carried with him when he returned…

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..Two Poems..

Song of Napalm-for my wife by Bruce Weigl

Reading the first lines of this poem I felt the surreality of what was being witnessed.  Standing from afar looking onto something not so clear. The author depicts this poetic first-hand account to his wife, of the harsh nature and realities of war with an intense rawness.  The beginning imagery really made me feel the disconnectedness one must be able to mentally obtain in order to cope with that sort of reality. And then the author snaps to it. In these next lines Bruce Weigl really captures the gravity of the moment he is in:                       But still the branches are wire

                      And thunder is the pounding mortar,

                      Still I close my eyes and see the girl

                      Running from her village, napalm

                      Stuck to her dress like jelly,

                      Her hands reaching for the no one

                      Who waits in waves of heat before her.  (21-27)

This poem struck something in me, the awfulness of it, the harsh reality that it speaks.  The story of a man in war, seeing the actuality of what is happening.

Letter Composed During a Lull in the Fighting By Kevin C. Powers

In the first lines Powers writes:

      I tell her I love her like not killing

      Or ten minutes of sleep (1-2)

And then you read on and realize how deep those words are. I am sure besides his own life, these are the next most important things to his current existence.  He goes on to write of how the letter will smell of his world of war….and I wonder if that is how it is when people receive letters written from the battlefield…do they really stink of “bolt oil” and “burned powder”?

 Though this poem is relatively short, the author did a good job in conveying the moment. I definitely again sense a disconnectedness, one that you would expect from someone in that situation.

The first two lines are what I was really pulled towards, how casual they almost seem but how truly sweet they are.  I also really enjoyed his ending, putting in the “offhand” thoughts of Pvt. Bartle:

      That war is just us

      Making little pieces of metal

      Pass through each other. (10-12)

Song of Napalm ref:  http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=171470
Letter Composed During a Lull in the Fighting ref:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=182821

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Sam Hamill - The Necessity to Speak ... ( my response )

As I read Sam Hamills’ The Necessity to Speak, I am filled again with this distaste tinged with apathy that I’ve come to recognize in myself when thinking about the state of our world and the people that inhabit it. A self-proclaimed misanthropist I guess I would call myself at times. I’m constantly blown away at this cycle that the human race is caught up in and the apparent unwillingness to make changes, to actually act as the supposed evolved human beings that we are. I can really not be in more agreement with Sam Hamill’s ideas of people as a whole not being able to deal with much reality. We have built a society in a bubble of sorts; top headlines seem to focus on what high powered stars are doing rather than what is really going on in the world, or our country for that matter. Consume, consume, consume and it will all be better, no matter the cost or who or what is affected. And though Hamill didn’t really touch on this fact, I cannot help but to think of history classes that are taught in public schools. The ones that teach our children about the great settling of this “free” country, that we celebrate to it, but are careful to "blanket" over the atrocities that occurred to the native peoples. How throughout history there has always been the conqueror (aggressor) and the conquered (victim). And we still repeat this cycle. How crazy to think that just 15 yrs. or so before my birth, people weren’t legally allowed certain places because of the color of their skin. And it still goes on right here in this country, a bit more undercover, not legal, with a broader spectrum of victims. But it happens still, because we let it happen.

 For as long as we have graced this planet, wouldn’t you think we would be transcended in thinking? Racism, violence/abuse against others, genocide, is all an everyday practice and a majority of people just look away. And then my apathy subsides a bit, and I try to figure out what I can do….realizing there are more people that have this same perception as I do, it gives me a bit of hope to see published, intelligent, first-hand knowledge to what is the reality of this life.

As I step down from my soap box, I also would like to recognize Hamill’s thoughts on poets and writers alike. He definitely captured in his words why I am so fond of poets and their work. The depth they seem to feel, the rawness and courage they have to expose their thoughts and ideas to everyone is quite an art form. One that I hope never stops. Isn’t it in others words and experiences that we can learn valuable lessons, that we as a whole can then evolve…

..image used from personnel photos..