I suppose it’s fitting that I watched the movie Jarhead today, on Veteran’s day. It reminded me of a few things I wrote about in my journal during a short time of reflection a year and a half ago.
“I will probably never know the horrors of war. I have not been shot at, I have never needed to pull out my pistol, and I never needed to point my rifle at a human being.”
Perhaps it’s because I spent some time overseas that it felt so strong to me. I couldn’t relate to being bombed, nor the road marches in the desert, nor the oil well fires. But everything else was so distinctively familiar. The heat at 112 degrees? If you’re lucky sometime during the winter. Air conditioning and hot showers? I rarely had either or even both at the same time. The sporadic calls for gas gas gas? Yeah you gotta get the mask on first in 9 seconds or less. And you always carry the needles with you, just in case. Communication with the outside world approaches zero. And while we’re making money for our wives and sweethearts back home, they are ever so resilient in being nonresponsive. Only later did some of us find out the truth. And the truth did not set us free.
“Your true friends never lose faith in you nor their own ability to be there for you.”
We were so ready. We trained as if we were going to be shot at any given point in time. If we did, we knew exactly who was going to support who and who would take charge. Taking an excerp from Black Hawk Down, it’s like preparing for the Superbowl, without ever playing in it. It’s a strange feeling, wanting to kill somebody, but at the same time knowing it’s wrong. The Army way of treating that discrepancy? ‘It’s either you or them.’
“I think 20 is the perfect time to die. In that sense, I suppose in theory I was perfectly ready to die.”
Tony Swofford tells a story that too few of us know. It’s different now. It’s not Vietnam or World War II anymore. But it’s still war. It doesn’t mean we are less prepared or that we’re less qualified. We continue the same tradition throughout the generations, the same mental and physical readiness. But the times have changed, in that the rigors of today’s war for the majority of us is such that the frustrations lie in the lack of opportunity to prove ourselves. And even when there seemingly is an opportunity, someone above is always going to stop you from taking it. That’s why he needed to take that shot. Was it all worthwhile…?
“Being away from home makes you do stupid things.”
Swofford does some things in the movie that only seem fitting in the movies. But that’s no movie. It’s reenactment of real life. For a punishment, they pile up sandbags in the rain and laugh sarcastically when the SSgt asks if it’s not funny anymore. That was us, too, when our leadership punished us for little things, and ask us the same questions. We’d laugh… I can’t count how many times I looked at myself in the mirror in the bathroom, alone, during the silence, staring at the reflection that seems so familiar yet so distannt, wondering when it will all end.
“What the military never tells you is this: you will be bored the hell out of your mind. They never teach you about patience, nor that you will need it.”
One of the last scenes when the Marines return home, an old Vietnam Vet gets on the bus. Most of us won’t recognize the medals on his chest, but one of them is the Purple Heart. The man’s been wounded in battle. The one to the left of that is the Bronze Star. This was before they started handing out Bronze Stars like Kit Kats. He looks satisfied. Maybe 50 years from now, when our sons and daughters fight in a war that’s controversial or otherwise, I’ll still root for them. It’s like rooting for your school’s football team for all your life, and they finally win the Championship game for you after so many decades.
“I’ve seen many men cry. And this was nowhere near the battlefield. Do you know the frustration of not having any control over your own life? For a year?”
Troy was the spotter for Swofford. The Marine Corp kept him alive. After he was kicked out, it was only a matter of few years before he died. In some sense, I never felt more alive when I was in ther Army. But in another sense, I never felt so useless, so powerless, and so meaningless either. While your individuality falls to nothing, your commitment to the group, not necessarily the cause, increases exponentially. When Swofford points his gun at a fellow Marine and screams his heart out, I was surprised he had the guts to act on his instincts. How many times have I wanted to do that? So for him to apologize at all later, was near impossible. Your own self respect is keeping you alive. What will you have when you give it up?
“How can you prepare for loneliness? Sometimes, there is no one to rely on but yourself, no one to talk to but yourself. The army never tells you that you will be lonely. There is no textbook definition to treating loneliness.”
I walked out of the theatre, dizzy from sitting so close to the screen, yet so satisfied. Someone finally told the story for the most of us who have never seen battle, but were drilled to death for the preparation for it. I was probably never so close to my rifle as he was. But every once in a while, I see myself, with 40 pounds on my back, with my rifle in my hand, with kevlar helmet a size too big and boots a size too small, and I’d march forever and a day with it.
Someone needed to tell the story. And someone needed to tell it right. I don’t know if there’s any other way the movie could have been better.
I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I do miss it sometimes.