Vigils by Siegfried Sassoon

I've spent quite a bit of time studying the poets of the first World War.  Most classes study the poets who were subsequently killed in the war and therefore left rather limited bodies of work behind.  These poets certainly left behind very valuable and insightful works on the nature of war and human experience of war but they cannot answer a question that I find intriguing: What happens after the war?  How does the war impact you for the rest of your life?  How do you carry on, especially in the case of the WWI poets, when so many of your friends and comrades did not come home?

These questions led me to the work of Siegfried Sassoon and a collection of poems published in 1936 entitled Vigils.  Sassoon enlisted at the relatively advanced age of 28.  I'm sure that the maturity he gained in the preceding years impacted his wartime experience.  As a soldier he was known for his courage, often leading nighttime raids.  He was decorated for his gallantry in battle.  He was wounded.  He had a complicated relationship with the war in which he served.  He saw its destruction and created controversy when he spoke out with the notion that his nation's leaders were unnecessarily prolonging the war by their actions.

What makes his story different from other Great War poets is that he survived the war.

Of all the men who were lost to the war, this one lived.  He lived until 1967.

I think of all the life he lived after his 4 years at war and how they must have colored the way he saw the world.  We often hear of how WWII veterans lived after the war but we don't seem to collectively remember that those veterans of the first world war did the same. 

Vigils  is a glimpse into that life. For example, a line from "December Stillness," 

December stillness, crossed by twilight roads, Teach me to travel far and bear my loads...
They were not true, those dreams, those story books of youth;
I left them all at home; went out to find the truth; 
Slammed the green garden gate on my young years, and started
Along the road to search for freedom, empty-hearted.


But dreams have secret strength; the will not die so soon:
They haunt the quiet house through idle afternoon; 
And under childhood skies their summer thoughts await
The rediscovering soul returning tired and late.


For, having grown world wise through harshly unlearned illusion, 
The Traveller into time arrives at this conclusion,-
That life, encountered and unmasked in variant shapes,
Dissolves in dust and cloud, and thwartingly escapes.
But in remembered eyes of youth my dreams remain.
They were my firstling friends.  I have returned again. (p.7)

It becomes clear that the past stays with him.  He wrestles with it.  He mocks it.  He embraces it.  But he never forgets it.  As he shows in Ex-Service and We Shall Not All Sleep, it is always with him, always in his head.

Break silence.  You have listened overlong to muttering mind-wrought voices.  Call for lights.
Prove these persistent haunting presences wrong Who mock and stultify your days and nights.

Dawn comes, and re-creates the sleepless room; 
And eyesight asks what arguing plagues exist. 
But in that garret of uneasy gloom
Which is your brain, the presences persist (17).

I love how he recalls John McCrae's famous poem and all of its connotations in this one.  He plays with the imagery of sleep and life and death.  Again, not all of them "sleep."  Some of them find the dead revisit them in their sleep.  The vet and the fallen are both restless.

 Unvouched are visions.  But sleep-forsaken faith 
Can win unworlded miracles and rejoice,
Welcoming, at haggard ends of the night, ---what wraith---
What angel---what beloved and banished voice?

I am also drawn to Revisitation.

What voice revisits me this night?  What face
to my heart's room returns?
From that perpetual silence where the grace
Of human sainthood burns
Hates he once more to harmonize and heal?
I know not.  Only I feel 
His influence undiminished.
And his life's work, in me and many, unfinished.

 
Who hasn't lost someone and continued to feel their influence after they are gone.  Who hasn't wanted to live a life worthy of the loss sustained?  Who hasn't wanted to complete something that someone who is gone started?

Sassoon's collection Vigils doesn't provide an explicit answer for how he lived his life after the trauma and the loss of the Great War.  But he does give us clues as to what it was like to be a survivor.  He lets us in a little, lifts the veil, and let's us see how the war in his head grew, evolved, struggled, and ultimately healed. 

The Junior Officer's Reading Club- Patrick Hennessey

I knocked out Patrick Hennessey's The Junior Officer's Reading Club: Killing Time and Fighting Wars in 2 day. Couldn't put it down. I think it could be fairly described as the British counterpart to Craig Mulanney's The Unforgiving Minute.

There was so much I loved about this book, from his humor to his battlefield descriptions peppered with pop culture and classic references. He tells a captivating story about the journey through young adulthood with stops along the way at Sandhurst, Iraq, and Afghanistan.

He talks a lot about his time as a trainer of Afghan forces and the connections he makes to those men and their officers. I think sometimes we forget when we talk about the wars and standing up an army or the deaths of Afghan soldiers that they are brothers in arms as well. Those that stand and fight forge bonds with our military men and British allies. Sometimes I think we underestimate that bond.

I am also fascinated by points in his story where the war and the outside world combine. A lot of people are so numb and/or ignorant of events that I always find it interesting when they are jolted out of their complacency.

The best example of this is a story in which Hennessey relates the aftermath of an attack and the evacuation of casualties:

The Chinook which comes thundering into the hastily prepared landing site turns out not to be the air ambulance but a diverted R & R flight, and I'll never forget the look of horror on the face of the young, possibly pretty journalist who's sitting in the back in gimpy blue helmet, unsure why her flight home has just dropped into the Green Zone, where the air is still a-rattle with fire form the ANA on the cordon, when suddenly the reality of Helmand charges on to her lap as four sweating, swearing, emotional soldiers drop a bleeding, naked, morphine-babbling black man on her brand new hiking boots.

I find myself wondering what her side of that story is. What did she take away from that experience? What were her thoughts and emotions? Did it change the way she reported on the war? Did it change her reactions, emotions, and relationships to soldiers? Did she see war in general with new eyes?

There probably are no answers to these questions but I think they are important to ask anyway. What do we do with the war when its realities are brought home? How do those realities fundamentally change us?

Those are questions I've thought about for a long time. I still don't have answers for them.

But I love this book for sparking my interest in searching for them again.

Where War Lives: A Photographic Journal of Vietnam

I've been reading Where War Lives: A Photographic Journal of Vietnam by Dick Durrance. It is a collection of his photographs during his military service accompanied by an introduction by Ron Kovic of Born on the 4th of July fame.

The Vietnam war is, in many ways, the military history I grew up on. Stories from Vietnam were told by relatives who served, passed down in family legend. Its pictures, patches, and maps covered the walls of the VFW where we had so many family gatherings.

Yet its jungles and aging warriors seem far removed after so many years of the wars that have become my own.

Through Durrance's photographic journey of his service, I am reminded once again of the commonalities of war and of the men and women who fight them.

A war is a war is a war. A warrior is a warrior is a warrior.

The future photojournalist captures the humanity of his compatriots. In the black and white photographs of training I can see Bestie and a hundred friends reflected in the bearing and attitude of young men now thirty-plus years their senior.

Take the trees out of his helo shots and the door gunner could be the one that sits in my hard drive, flying over an entirely different battlefield.

Flipping through the photographs, I am drawn to their eyes. Eyes that reflect too many hours without a decent sleep. Young men burdened with the weight too much gear and too many memories. Eyes with a certain hardness and sureness of attitude.

I have seen these eyes before. I will see them again soon.

I find it interesting that Dick Durrance waited twenty years after he left Vietnam to publish this book. I wonder what we will learn about our wars and from our warriors in twenty years.

"Nothing can repair the damage caused by war, but returning to the memories and pictures has connected me to those experiences, which, in spite of my efforts to ignore them, have done so much to shape the rest of my life (143)." ~Dick Durrance

The Long Way Home: An American Journey from Ellis Island to the Great War

I just finished David Laskin's book The Long Way Home: An American Journey from Ellis Island to the Great War.

Laskin tells the story of America's involvement in the Great War through the stories of 12 men who immigrated to the United States not long before the conflict began. It is a perspective that we don't hear enough about when learning about that war. It is easy to forget how the nation was still being formed and molded into what we know it as today. Laskin illustrates how immigrant experience cannot be untangled from America's experience in the war.

I enjoyed how he weaved the stories of these men together with their place in their family histories as well as the greater American history. He clearly shows how the draft brought together all these men of different nationalities, ethnicities, and histories who before did not interact with those outside of their neighborhoods or enclaves. The war takes these men and makes them suffer together, bleed together, and die together until their differences are less important than their commonality as soldiers. Post-war Laskin shows that this did more for integrating immigrants into America long term than perhaps anything else.

In the words of their relatives these men "came home American." Most were proud of their service and it was a touchstone throughout their lives. For many, that legacy of military service continued in their families and still continues through the wars we fight today.

Great read that further illustrates that suffering in war is the same kind of hell be it in Ypres, Normandy, Chosin, Khe Sahn, Kuwait, Fallujah, or Marjah. It always leaves its mark, both positive and negative, on the men, women, and families it touches.

Fading Echoes by Mike Sielski

I just finished Mike Sielski's excellent book Fading Echoes: A True Story of Rivalry and Brotherhood From the Football Field to the Fields of Honor.

When I picked it up I wasn't sure if it was a football book or a military book. Turns out it is a little bit of both.

Mike tells the stories of two boys who grow up on the football fields of suburban Pennsylvania, with all its tradition, rivalry, and community. He tells about Colby and Bryan, two boys are a passingly familiar with each other, who play for rival high schools, and play football at a high level. We meet their families, their friends, teachers, and coaches. We ride the ups and downs of their senior seasons and beyond.

Both boys have drive, determination, and leadership abilities that set them apart. We follow them as they grow into young men, struggling to find their paths in life and in football. They play football in college with varying degrees of success until they find the curtain closing on their football lives. Bryan and Colby must find their way as men in their post football careers.

For both Bryan and Colby, the path led to service in the post-9/11 military. Brian became an Lt in the Marine Corps. Colby became an Army officer and an Airborne Ranger.

As family and friends adjust to the mixture of pride and fear having a loved one in uniform brings, fate drops both men in the sands of Iraq.

Bryan Buckley made it back to Doylestown, PA.

1Lt Colby Umbrell did not.

As a community comes together to mourn and remember Colby in the fields, bars, and classrooms that helped build both young men, we are reminded that each man and woman in the service is more than their uniform.

Everyone has a story and the uniform is only a part.

1Lt Colby Umbrell has a story and the stone in Arlington National Cemetery is only one part of it.

Mike Sielski helps tell us the rest.

In a way, this idea is why I blog. Bestie, Bestie in Law, and I all have stories as well. Someone has to tell them. Someone has to tell the stories. Good on Mike Sielski for telling this one.

Love in a Torn Land and Paradise General

Of the books I read last week, two stuck out for me. One was Love in a Torn Land: Joanna of Kurdistan: The True Story of a Freedom Fighter's Escape from Iraqi Vengeance by Jean Sasson. It tells the story of the life of Joanna, who grew up in Baghdad during the rise of Saddam. As she grew, so did the tensions in her country. She lived through the Iran/Iraq War and saw many of her relatives forever changed by conflict and torture. She narrowly dodged run-ins with Saddam's security forces, made harder as she embraced her Kurdish identity. As she grew into a woman, she fell in love with a Peshmerga, a Kurdish fighter. Their love took time to develop, but grew deep in the face of hardship as she gave up her relatively comfortable life in Baghdad to live as a fighter in the mountains. She survives chemical attacks and bombings, as well as the treacherous and rugged mountain living, before seeking asylum in England.

Her story is a beautiful one, despite her hardships. It is a tale of someone who is committed to her people and her belief that they should be free from the oppression of Saddam's government. It is also a rich love story that challenges perceptions of relationships in the Middle East. One is left with the impression that Joanna is a complete woman, who knows herself and what she wants in life. She accepts the life she chose, even when it is unpleasant. Hers is a story that should be told and remembered.

That was the book I was going to write about but another grabbed me and wouldn't let go. Paradise General: Riding the Surge at a Combat Hospital in Iraq by Dr. Dave Hnida is a window into the world of military medicine. I completed the book in two days and couldn't put it down. As a reservist who signed up in his late 40s when he heard the military needed doctors, he stumbles a bit with the soldier aspect of his soldier/doctor role. The book mostly covers his second deployment, where he is at a combat support hospital with a team of other doctors and medical personnel. As he shares his war stories, he is part Hawkeye from MASH and part Baghdad ER. It is a look into the lives of the doctors who must treat the horrific injuries that war creates. These experiences bond the men and women who work on our soldiers in a way few can understand. Do we realize what we ask of these doctors and medical personnel? Their dreams are filled with the moans and the wounds of soldiers young enough to be their children. They, along with medics and corpsmen in their twenties fight death all day, every day, but will inevitably lose some. They carry those losses with them forever. Dr. Hnida makes it clear that behind the professionalism, confidence, and calm veneer is an endless second guessing and self criticism after each case, with doctors wondering if they made the right calls.

Each chapter tells a distinct story from his deployment, yet he weaves them together into a smooth, cohesive whole. I particularly enjoyed the chapters "Dante's Infirmary," " Rebels with a Cause," "The Wounded Wore Aftershave," and "A Picture Worth a Thousand Tears."

Favorite passages:
"What about my penance? I felt a duty to those I had failed in the past--the kids of Columbine, my daughter Katie, my own family, and the memory of my father (68)."

"But when done...Jesus. You were forced to watch a mental rerun of your every move and decision, and your movie snack wasn't popcorn, instead an overflowing tub of adrenaline-soaked fear (164)."

"I knew people back home saw and heard about the deaths and the wounds, but a screen or in writing it was all sanitized and sterile. Just numbers...They didn't see, feel, or smell what a broken body is like up close and personal. And they didn't have to make the decisions we did. Save the arm? Save the leg? Save the soldier? (165)."

"We were wounded by what we did and what we saw. But no more than those we cared for. (165)."

"We were leaving the war, but the war couldn't care less. All we could do was feel guilty about leaving the twenty-year olds behind in a war that would not have a Hollywood ending. No war ever does (276)."

As the distance between us and the base continued to grow, we realized we would never really leave. We'd revisit this place often in the years to come, traveling back in sweat-soaked dreams on our darkest nights. I now knew what my father, what every other man and woman who has seen the horrors of war, knew: you may leave the war, but it never leaves you (276)."

Love in Condition Yellow by Sopia Raday

I stumbled across Sopia Raday's Love in Condition Yellow: A Memoir of an Unlikely Marriage this week and could not put it down.

As the subtitle suggests, it is an unlikely love story. A liberal, Berkeley educated peacenick falls in love with a police officer/West Point graduate/Army Reserve officer, despite her intentions to keep the relationship casual. It is the story of a marriage that bridges the cultural-political divide in this country of left and right.

Above all, it is a beautiful account of learning and growing into a relationship. Of learning to listen and learning to make oneself heard. It is an example of how our differences can ultimately make us stronger when we make the effort to embrace each other as we are.

The writing is spectacular and are phrases that are simply lyrical. It is filled with little life lessons that I know I can take and apply to my own life. There is a depth to Raday's writing that speaks of someone who had done the hard work of discovering her true self.

Love in Condition Yellow is a story of love,war, conflict struggle, success, acceptance, and ultimately joy. It is a book I think I will be rereading in the future.

Favorite passages:
"Perhaps we need to confront our fears in order to find our strength. Perhaps we need the darkness to help us see the stars (196)."

"Maybe true love is not having the same beliefs or even having the same goals, but supporting your mate in striving for his or her best self (196)."

"...completeness is not bestowed upon you by a perfect partner. It does not come from your lover figuring you out and taking perfect care of you. It comes from facing adversity, and through it, discovering your own inner strength and wisdom (198)."

From Tibetan Buddhist Lama Surya Das:
"To loosen my own attachment to opinions, I remind myself that if I really know everything there was to know--past, present, and future--about any particular person, subject or situation, my opinions and feelings about them would be quite different. Since I don't know that much, I have gradually learned to not be so judgmental and invested in my own views, although I certainly do have them."

E.B. Sledge's With the Old Breed

I am trying to read all the books by the men who are depicted in the HBO series The Pacific. The latest one I finished was With the Old Breed at Peleliu and Okinawa by Eugene Sledge.

It was another powerful account of the war in the Pacific. Again, it makes we wonder why we did not learn these stories in school. I am fairly well versed in both WWI and WWII, but I did not realize I had such a gap in understanding the horrific nature of the island campaigns.

Sledge writes honestly and gives the reader a clear picture of his world with the Marines in combat.

I found that he was particularly insightful in the way he explained the mental aspect of war. He wrote, "fear is not just of being killed or wounded, it is the fear of something even worse- fear of not being able to take it and exhibiting the symptoms of cowardice to an audience of men who have trusted you (xiv)."

Many times he mentions the mental strain on men who were good combat soldiers, they simply had reached capacity for the amount of trauma they could absorb. They had had all that they could take. His stories make it clear that we should treat these men with an abundance of compassion. We cannot truly understand what they went through and should give them the benefit of the doubt in matters related to post-traumatic stress.

Sledge's account of his war is a remarkable one. One cannot read it and not be reminded yet again that the heroes of the Pacific were heroes, but they were also just men.

I have had the great privilege of meeting a Marine, who served in numerous island campaigns with the 1st Marine Division. Sledge's book gave me an even deeper appreciation for the man and his efforts. This humble, gentle, remarkable man was a part of something historic, for both its brutality and its ultimate success. But like Sledge and Leckie, after the war he built a life for himself. Despite a full, successful life, the war remains an ever-present shadow.

Like Leckie, Sledge closes by attempting to figure out what his war means to him. He concludes, "War is brutish, inglorious, and a terrible waste. Combat leaves an indelible mark on those who are forced to endure it. The only redeeming factors were my comrades incredible bravery and their devotion to each other...But it also taught us loyalty to each other--and love (315)."

If there is one thing I have learned about Marines from my family, my best friend, and the incredible men of the Marine veterans group I worked with, it is that Marines know how to love, each other and those they embrace.

Marines are a special breed.

Sledge shows us that the Marines of Peleliu and Okinawa were more special than we could have imagined.

Gray Land Soldiers on War by Barry Goldstein

Book of the week this week was Barry Goldstein's Gray Land: Soldiers on War.

The book is a combination of photography and reflections on war by soldiers of the Third Brigade Combat Team, 3ID.

The title comes from Sassoon's poem from the Great War entitled "Dreamers." This is one of my favorite WWI poems and the line borrowed to create the book's title is particularly powerful:

Soldiers are citizens of death's gray land,

Drawing no dividend from time's tomorrows.

In the great hour of destiny they stand,

Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.

Warriors do exist differently from the rest of us. To paraphrase Owen, they have walked along with death and he has become their companion. It is a reminder that no matter the time period, war is still war and warriors remain warriors.

What Goldstein does brilliantly is distill the many experiences and stories of individual soldiers into digestible chunks. He does not tell each man or woman's entire war story. He and they share only pieces that give glimpses into the whole.

He further distills the stories by pulling out profound statements by the soldiers and accompanying them with his photographs of the individuals and their battlefield.

Each story reminds the reader that behind the uniforms are people. The war for each of them is different. Yet, the result is a life changing experience for each of them and those that they love. As Spc. Diacogiannis points out, "That is a lot of people affected by just one person going over there (26)."

There is so much insight that can be gleaned from these interviews. The soldiers talk about the unnatural experience of going from a war zone to home in 24 hours and being expected to flip the switch that quickly. The officers speak of the responsibility that rests on their shoulders and the burden they carry with them each time they lose a soldier. They talk about the toll deployment takes on their families and the bonds they create with each other.

These are all recurring themes in war literature. Yet their stories are also unique to our war. They are important because they help create a history of this war. They also help those of us who work to help soldiers transition back to civilian life identify the major issues they are facing. We cannot know what they have gone through because we were not there with them. But Goldstein's work allows us a window into their world.

Goldstein's book is beautifully collected and arraigned collection of individual stories. It is powerful look at the world through the eyes of the soldiers he followed.

Things to contemplate:

"I wasn't scared of going to Iraq. I was scared that as soon as I left, things [at home] weren't going to be the same (42)."

"I may waiver on it at times, but there is a reason why I'm here, and in some sense it's a privilege and a burden (50)."

"And it's hard to come straight home and look your mom in the eye and give her a big old hug knowing twenty-four hours ago this is what I was doing. It's just a very strange, awkward, unnatural feeling, and it took some time. (32)."

"But what is a soldier? His uniform? His stature? A soldier is human being, one who has made a decision to sacrifice certain rights (15)."

"A soldier has been an integral part of the history of this country. At times soldiers have been invisible (12)."

"Maybe someday I'll take time from grieving (66)."

"But you can get burned out. You know, this is my 34th month in Iraq (76)."

Helmet for my Pillow: From Parris Island to the Pacific by Robert Leckie

In preparation for the HBO miniseries The Pacific, I have been reading all of the accounts the producers used for the film, as well as any others I can get my hands on. I started with Robert Leckie's A Helmet for my Pillow.

My first reaction, after reading the poem that the book takes it's name from is How did I not read this in school? It is amazing what we do not learn. This account of the war in the Pacific is one of the most gripping accounts of any war that I have read.

I have a special love for Marines and the lore of the Marine Corps. Many of my family members are Marines. My best friend is a Marine. I have been taken in and adopted, in a sense, by a local Marine Corps Veterans Association. The first individual I ever wrote to as a volunteer with Soldiers' Angels was a Marine. For that reason, I love the history of the Old Breed as it is presented by Leckie. It is fascinating to read of his time at Parris Island, his time in the fleet, and his time at war. As he says, "The making of Marines...it is a process of surrender."

What makes this book so gripping, is that it could be about Marines today. I recognize so many similarities in the spirit and make up in the Marines, both young and old, that I know today. I can picture his characters as men I know. Hoosier could easily be an old salt I know from the Vets Association who island hopped with the 1st Marine Division. The echoes of Leckie's Parris Island remain in the tales I hear from friends and family during and after recruit training.

Leckie's account of the Pacific campaigns are powerful. Much of what he says is relevant today. There are many passages where I would have to stop reading and ponder what he wrote. He writes about war and the thin line between sanity and madness. I am struck yet again by how much we have to learn from these men. The warriors of the Second World War did their duties and came home to live out their lives. They may have had more recognition from the general public for their service, but they still had to live out the private battles that continued to rage in their minds. Leckie writes, "And there is terror, coming from the interaction of trial and tedium." Our men and women today are fighting wars that are just as terrifying and just as destructive. We should learn what we can from these men who fought in the Pacific and apply it as we help our present day warriors heal from their war.

In my opinion, the last three pages are the most powerful. Here, he struggles to answer the eternal question from the fat, wealthy, protected, ignorant civilian, "What did you get out of it? What were you fighting for?" These are the questions we still ask. These are the questions warriors past and present still use to try and put their experiences into perspective.

Leckie found his answer, or at least found the answer he was willing to share with the world. He writes:

"Now I know. For myself, a memory and the strength of ordeal sustained; for my son, a priceless heritage; for my country, sacrifice. The last is enough for all, for it is sacrifice--the suffering of those who lived, the immolation of those who died...It is to sacrifice that men go to war. They do not go to kill, they go to be killed, to risk their flesh, to insert their precious persons in the path of destruction...But sacrifice says: 'Not the blood of your brother, my friend-your blood'(304)."

"That is why women weep when their men go off to war. They do not weep for their victims, they weep for them as Victim. That is why, with the immemorial insight of mamkind, there are gay songs and colorful bands to send them off to fortify their failing hearts, not to quicken their lust for blood. That is why there are no glorious living, but only glorious dead. Heroes turn traitor, warriors age and grow soft-but a victim is changeless, sacrifice is eternal (305)."

Sacrifice.

Remember the sacrifices, large and small.

Thank you, Mr. Leckie, for sharing your story.

I'm Still Standing: From Captive U.S. Soldier to Free Citizen- My Journey Home by Shoshana Johnson

I was excited to come across Shoshana Johnson's book with M.L. Doyle, I'm Still Standing: From Captive U.S. Soldier to Free Citizen- My Journey Home.

I'm glad she decided to share her story, as it is an important piece of the Iraq War POW narrative. So much of what we, the public, have heard about what happened is clouded by DOD gag orders and agendas and media ADD. Even when the official report came out on the 507th Maintenance Company's incident in Nasiriyah, many contributing factors seemed to be missing.

The book itself is a cohesive narrative I couldn't put down. I read it in about a day and half. It alternates between Shoshana's civilian and early Army life and her time in captivity, as she explains how she ended up in the Army, the 507th, Kuwait, Iraq, and finally a POW.

She sheds light on the details of her captivity, on her captors' aggression and moments of kindness. She speaks of the bonds forged with her fellow prisoners and the loss of so many friends in the ambush.

Most importantly, she sheds light on aspects of her captivity and total experience as a POW the media often missed. It becomes apparent how poorly both Shoshana and Jessica Lynch were treated by the Army and the media. Lynch was used exploited by both for ratings and morale and was forced to defend herself against an avalanch of attention she had no part in creating. Shana was given less media attention, saw her injuries rated differently by the Army, and had to deal with insinuations that she was jealous of Jessica Lynch's attention when the truth was that they remained friends.

Shoshana Johnson's story highlights some very important aspects of the POW incident that both the Army and the media should learn from.

For me, the most surprising part has been learning of the backlash many of the POWs faced once they were returned to units stateside. They faced resentment from fellow soldiers and despite attending media events on orders from the Army, that they were receiving undeserved attention.

Instead of taking responsibility for failures that led to the ambush in Nasiriyah, the various Army and media reports left the impression that the 507th were somehow so incompetent and negligent that they bore the blame for their predicament. Johnson rebuts those accusations and spells out the way a series of problems from training, to leadership, to equipment failure, broken procedure, and confusion came together to contribute to the death, injury, and capture of the 507th Maintenance Company.

In the closing chapters, Johnson mentions that the 507th doesn't exist as such anymore, the Army having re-purposed and renamed the unit. She and other OIF POWs aren't invited to many Army POW events anymore, and her speaking engagements have dwindled.

It is important to remember the sacrifices of the 507th Maintenance Company and the OIF prisoners of war. No matter how much some segments of the military may wish to pretend it never happened, it did. There are lessons to be learned to prevent such incidents from occurring in future conflicts.

Above all, each member of the 507th was a volunteer who served their country in a time of war. Many, many members of that unit lost their lives. Others faced injury and captivity and conducted themselves with honor and dignity. They deserve to be remembered. Their stories deserve to be told.

The Lonely Soldier by Helen Benedict

Book for last week was The Lonely Soldier: The Private War of Women Serving in Iraq

I wasn't sure what the make of this one at first. The author interviewed women who served in Iraq and discussed their experiences in the military. She focused on five women in particular, three who joined prior to 9/11 and 2 who joined after. All are enlisted soldiers, two are NCOs.

The book discusses an important issue that does not get enough attention, which is sexual harassment and assault within the military. This issue is often swept under the rug by the military and ignored by the media. Despite being a integral part of the armed forces, women still face a hostile institutional structure that can be detrimental to their careers. Despite the gains that have been made, women are still considered inferior to men, as established by law that women cannot serve in combat roles.

Benedict points out that the demeaning language and attitudes towards women begin in boot camp. She also points out the disparity in the images put forth by the Army, noting in their websites and brochures, women are represented in pictures beside Army Values such as loyalty, but not one is included next values like honor, courage, and commitment. Women have to prove themselves as soldiers to the men. In their attempts to do this, the often lose parts of their identity, seeking to be tough, and conducting themselves in a way that will not make them stand out. Benedict quotes all of her interview subjects as being in agreement that men give female soldiers three roles to fill, that of ho, bitch, or dyke. Having to alter their personalities, habits, and even the way they walk to fit into this type of hostile environment makes readjustment to the civilian world particularly difficult for women.

Benedict sites pervasive sexual harassment and assault as reasons why women have higher rates of PTSD in Iraq. Depending on their unit and job, women often find themselves isolated in Iraq, perhaps being the only female among 36, 60, or 100 men. The women she interviews do not find the bond that so many others find amongst their comrades in arms at war. Instead, they found themselves undermined, objectified, and humiliated at almost every turn. They found themselves traumatized not only by the war, but by the very men who were supposed to have their backs. Incidents of sexual assault and rape are not reported nearly as often as in the civilian world, and only about 8% of such crimes are prosecuted, compared to 40% in civilian life.

The stories these women relay are heart wrenching, infuriating, and troubling to say the least.

At this point the data the book uses are a little dated, focusing primarily on the time period between 1999-2006. I have to hope that things have improved in the time since the book was published.

Each of these issues is real- especially those regarding a misogynist military culture- and must be addressed by the military, and if not the military, then by Congress. However, I am left with a few lingering thoughts. It is hard to know if the horrible experiences the 5 women in the book have are as common as Benedict makes it seem. When she briefly discusses where she met women veterans to interview, she discusses finding them at Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans Against the War and Veteran's for Peace meetings. I say that not because these women should be judged for being members of these groups, but because it may have squed Benedict's sample of female veterans.

Benedict does make some great points about what must be done for our women veterans, especially those who have served in Operations Iraqi and Enduring Freedom.

Among those I find to be particularly sound are:

1.) "Women have always been met with hostility when they first tried to enter male domains, whether as voters or police officers, firefighters or politicians, and the answer has never been to give up, but to stay and fight for reform until the culture changes and accepts them (224)."

2.) Stop restricting the jobs women can do in the military. The arguments are antiquated and women have proven in Iraq that they can do the job. Combat support roles have become combat roles as women follow infantry units door to door, search and engage targets, guard prisoners, serve as gunners in ground convoys and in the air, guard checkpoints, and sit in FOBs that are mortared and bombed. Recognize women for the courageous job that they are doing right beside their male counterparts. This will also help female veterans when they return home. No woman who has served should be treated like a second class veteran. No woman should have her war stories denied and ignored because she has a ponytail instead of a high and tight.

3.) End official antipathy toward women (225).

4.) Distribute women more evenly. No women should serve alone with all male platoons, for it leaves them isolated and vulnerable to assault (226).

5.) Improve training in the prevention and understanding of sexual assault for all recruits, enlisted personnel, and officers; Reform military handling of sexual abuse

6.) Provide better services to female veterans returning from war. They have different needs than their male counterparts and should receive the same level of service for them.

I agree with Benedict's closing lines:

"At least 160,500 women have served in Iraq by now, risking their lives, limbs, and well-being, as they will again in future wars. It is wrong for us as a nation to ask women to do this and then treat them as inferior to men."

To Live or Perish Forever

I just finished reading Nicholas Schmidle's book on Pakistan, To Live or Perish Forever.

Schmidle spent two years wandering around Pakistan, getting the lay of the land, and meeting local political leaders. The book was a quick read, as Schmidle keeps the narrative going smoothly.

Schmidle comes from a military family, one who was serving in Iraq and Afghanistan while he was in Pakistan. Yet he was routinely interviewing Taliban and al-Queda leaders as part of his journalistic effort to discover the soul of Pakistan. Schmidle treats these characters with extreme humanity. Despite his own inner conflict at the idea that many of these people could be organizing attacks that could injure the people he loved, he grew to like some of them, even to the point of considering a few friends.

These high placed contacts, coupled with the people on the street view he gains as he lives, works, and interacts with his neighbors, give true insight into the battle for Pakistan that is playing out.

Will Pakistan be able to hold on to a secular identity in the face of rising Islamist power? Will its many ethnic minorities stay united with Pakistan, or will they seek to control their own fates in nations of their own? Will corrupt intelligence and government institutions ultimately break Pakistan?

These are questions Schmidle doesn't have answers to. But what he does learn makes one point very clear. If peace is to find the region, we must have a greater understanding of the culture, history, and power brokers. We must also think regionally in our strategies. The questions of Afghanistan and Pakistan cannot be solved independently of each other. Gretchen Peters book Seeds of Terror also illustrates this point quite dramatically when analyzing the connections between drugs, money, weapons, and militias that flow through the porous borders.

Good book. Certainly gives you lots to think about.

Trauma Stewardship by Laura van Dernoot Lipsky

I have been making decisions about my future. I am taking the steps needed to get into a graduate program to work towards a Masters degree in Social Work.

It is something I have contemplated for awhile, but had to be sure of before I committed. I believe this is my calling in life. Many things have pointed me in this direction, working with military veterans as a career. But after 6 years of doing it as a volunteer, I felt wary. Burned out. Unsure that I had the emotional reserves to do it as a career.

I have spent the past year really examining my heart and praying about what God wants for my life. I have made a conscious effort to examine the events that have stacked up in my volunteer work, to accept them and to process them.

It is not easy to work with military personnel in a time of war. It is not easy to work with Veterans. It is not easy to work with the wounded. It is not easy to work with families. It is not easy to build intense relationships while also knowing these people may be killed in combat. It is not easy when they are. The entire military family has to deal with things like PTSD, catastrophic injuries, worry, fear, stress, anxiety, readjustment issues, and the chaos of multiple deployments.

What I have come to accept is that those who work with these people must also deal with these issues. Each situation is traumatic for the soldier. They are also traumatic for those that love the soldier, and those that stand behind the soldier.

Though we that work with soldiers are very good about pushing awareness of PTSD and urging them to talk about the hard things that happen during their deployments, we rarely consider the effect hearing about these things has on us.

It is easy to understand that a soldier is changed by firing his weapon, killing an enemy, being ambushed, watching a friend be wounded or killed, being hit by an IED, being forced to be constantly alert to the danger in his environment, and being away from his friends and family while their lives continue on.

Less thought is given to the person the soldier calls at 3:00am, sobbing, confessing that he killed a man. Less thought is given to the person who goes about their day knowing the soldier might be hit by an IED at any time, or knows the soldier was on the helo the news reports has crashed. Less thought is given to the person who answers the emails detailing the way the battle buddy went down, the way it feels to wake up to gunfire everyday, the split second decision to fire or not fire on a 12 year old pointing an RPG at the vehicle, how much missing her son's birthday for the 3rd year in a row hurts.

Those of us that work with soldiers do so out of love and good intentions. But rarely is the price spoken of, certainly it isn't mentioned when I first got involved, and even now, it is only spoken of in hushed tones. After all, maybe these things upset us, maybe we notice that we have more anxiety now than we did, maybe feel a little down, but it is nothing. What right do we have to complain, it is the soldiers suffering the real hardships. There is an often unsaid but implied notion that you should just suck it up, tough it out. And so we stay quiet, often until we burn out.

This is something that has been bothering me for years. I didn't know what it was, or what questions to ask, but I had the nagging feeling that something was wrong. I hit the burnout point after 4 years and personally interacting with over 300+ soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines. But like a good soldier, I carried on, I found ways to cope. For me, I built walls to protect myself. I tried not to feel so much when I heard a sad story, or found out a soldier I had connections to died. I ignored the feelings of sadness, fatigue and anxiety, but I knew I didn't feel right. I found myself wishing I had someone to talk to about all this, but felt like I didn't deserve to draw any attention to myself. I felt like there had to be a better way to go about things, I just had no idea what that way was, or how to go about finding it.

I have spent the past two years trying to find it.

It started with an undergraduate research project that I eventually took to conference.

Reading Laura van Dernoot Lipsky's Trauma Stewardship: An Everyday Guide to Caring for Self While Caring for Others was the the first time I found a name to what I was experiencing.

It is called secondary or vicarious trauma.

I found myself nodding in agreement to something on just about every page of the first chapter. She inspired me to truly understand the nature of and responses to trauma and how it influences caregivers. This is something I want to continue to research in graduate school, but until I get there, I am learning all I can now.

In the Foreward, Jon R Conte, Ph.D. says "Most of all, trauma stewardship calls on us to remember that it is a gift to be present when people deal with trauma; it reminds us of our responsibility to care and to nurture our capacity to help... she helps us to understand our feelings and behavior as natural responses to that flow from our humanity (xii)."

van Dernoot says that exposure to other people's trauma becomes a part of us, changes us, and changes our view of the world as we absorb it (3).

She also explains her journey creating the book, and as one who deals with the trauma of others. She says, "First, I need to take responsibility for acknowledging the effects of trauma exposure within myself. Second, I had to learn how to make room for my own internal process -- to create space within to heal and to discover what I would need to continue with clarity on my chosen path. I had to find some way to bear witness to trauma without surrendering my ability to live fully (4)." What she discovers is the framework of trauma stewardship.

This is the journey I am on as I set out on the slow path to a new career.

I am learning to acknowledge the effects of trauma exposure within myself and learning my own internal processes as I deal with trauma exposure.

I am excited to be working my way through the book. It isn't always easy, but so far, it has been extremely helpful. Anyone who works with trauma, or who acts as a caregiver in anyway should consider giving this book a try.

Hemingway

Ernest Hemingway wrote to F. Scott Fitzgerald in 1925:

...."war is the best subject of all. It groups the maximum of material and speeds up the action and brings out all sorts of stuff that normally you have to wait a lifetime to get."

The Good Soldiers

I read David Finkel's The Good Soldiers this weekend.

Finkel's coverage of Battalion 2-16 as they deployed and executed "the surge" strategy is remarkable. He writes with compassion as he captures the personalities of the 2-16. The Ranger Battalion lost 14 men KIA, with many more being wounded. Finkel uses the framework of presidential speeches to compare the macro and micro events in the time period he is with the soldiers of 2-16.

Finkel truly captures the brotherhood these soldiers have. He does not shy away from covering the mental aspect of warfare and how each of the soldiers responds to it differently. He covers PTSD and "survivor guilt" within the unit with honesty and without judgment. He manages to cover both the leadership and the enlisted men without a preference for either one.

Good book, but a tough read. These soldiers were in the thick of it, and have the stories to prove it.

Historical Moments

I have been rereading Nathanial Fick's One Bullet Away this week.

His story is interesting due to its connections to HBO's documentary Generation Kill, as well as the Evan Wright book by the same name. It is interesting to hear his perspective on the portrayed events.

I specifically chose to reread it because of work I am doing with my alma mater's newly formed Office of Veteran's Affairs. Fick breaks his narrative into three parts: Peace, War, and Aftermath. It is the Aftermath that I was interested in rereading, as he relates his experience reentering academia after the Corps. As often happens though, another scene grabbed my attention.

On the last page of "Peace," Fick describes being in port, in Darwin, Australia on September 11, 2001. He and his fellow LTs learn about the attack in a bar, joining the crowd around a big-screen tv. This is the moment their world changed, and they knew it. He quotes one Lt: "Fellas, history just bent us over."

He then describes the scene, as thousands of Marines and Sailors flood the streets of Darwin, heading back to the docks and their ships. He describes an Australian couple who pull up to see if they need a ride, which he and his friends accept. They are dropped off at the pier, where the ships are lit by floodlights and armed sentries stood along the rails. The scene ends with the driver shaking their hands and remarking: "Guess you blokes are headed for war."

What an image. What an historical moment. What did the Australians think, watching all these young men and women streaming from the nightclubs and bars, suddenly sober and deadly serious? To be members of a foreign military, in a foreign port, when your nation is under attack, and it is your job to defend it... Fick does a captivating job of nailing this moment where their lives changed. No longer were they serving in peacetime. When they stepped back onto their ships, they knew they would lead their men in war. And the Australian couple who drove them to the pier...do they wonder if all the men who rode in their car made it home? Do they know how they feature in this memory?

The Lost Thoughts of Soldiers

Last week's book of the week was Delia Falconer's The Lost Thoughts of Soldiers. I don't usually read a lot of military fiction, but this one fell more into the realm of historical fiction with its focus on the inner life of Captain Frederick Benteen — the man who saved Custer’s Seventh Cavalry at Little Bighorn.

Benteen is prompted to reflect on his life, especially the days leading up to the battle, after he receives a letter from a young man.

What I found moving about The Lost Thoughts of Soldiers is how human the characters are. As Benteen eulogizes his men, his friends, the reader is allowed a glimpse into the inner circle. Circumstances, technology, even tactics change over time, but men at war do not.

Benteen has to deal with the reality that he lived while so many of his friends did not. He thinks, " It is a myth that we prove ourselves in war; we test ourselves in silence."

How many men and women must test themselves today, in the silence?

Benteen writes to the young man:

"If you truly wish to understand the battle and my place in it, you must understand the dreams and jokes and stories that we bore within us. You must see how, as we shared them, they formed a kind of landscape."

How true. And what landscapes are being formed in the mountain and desert battlefields of today?

"War Reporting for Cowards"

When the destruction was finally over, everyone in the Humvee was shouting. This, I thought, is what the will to live sounds like.'YEAH! YEAH! Oh, YEAH!' we all howled in union like the animals we were. 'Targets destroyed,'said the monotone on the radio.

Book of the week is War Reporting for Cowards by Chris Ayers. I don't usually enjoy Iraq war books by reporters. Most of them take themselves a little too seriously. Ayers, self-deprecating throughout, does not have this problem.

Ayers describes himself as an accidental war reporter. Writing for The Times of London, he makes his name as a business/financial reporter more familiar with stock prices than NBC gear. His first taste of war came when he had the misfortune of living in New York and covering Wall Street at the time of the September 11th attacks. He also was in the right place-if you will- to cover the anthrax attacks when they befell his office building. Hoping to move towards a life of more glamour and less terror, he makes a move to LA to cover the celebrity beat for The Times.

It is from the Hollywood scene this young reporter is picked to cover the war in Iraq. You follow Chris, a man who had never even been camping, to the mud and dust of the Iraqi desert. He covers the artillerymen of the US Marines at the start of the invasion. With the sound of the guns in the background, he attempts to explain what life is like for the men on the ground, and what life is like for him as well.

What impresses me about Ayres is his humor and his honesty. He does not flinch away from his own failings or exaggerate his experiences. He conveys a respect for the Marines he rode with and the complexity of the lives as warriors. He acknowledges that they were his protectors and that his presence often put them at risk.

This is a basic fact that other reporters seem to forget.

"The Terrorists Ate My Homework"

Book of the Week:
As You Were: To War and Back with the Black Hawk Battalion of the Virginia National Guard
Author: Christian Davenport

Davenport is one of the few reporters to take full advantage of the embed process. Not only does he follow the unit at war, he follows them home. While he covers the wartime experiences, his true interest is the return home. This is made clear from the first page. He quotes Tim O'Brien's research into the Greek origins of the word nostalgia: "The pain of returning home."

The book's strengths lie in the characters he has chosen to follow. All six individuals are at different points in their lives. From a Vietnam vet headed to Iraq and his wife, to a sorority girl, a VMI grad, a young LT, and a twenty-something looking for direction, each character demonstrates the difficulties and special challenges faced by the Guard.

Because of its focus on citizen soldiers who are also college students, or returning to complete their educations, As You Were is an important book for college professors and administrators to read. College students who balance the academic and military worlds face challenges that need to be understood by those interacting with them.

The title of this post comes from a chapter focused on Miranda. She is in a sorority, a good student, and a Black Hawk door gunner. When she is called up, she has to convince her professors to allow her to complete independent studies, while at war, so that she can graduate on time. Some refuse, insisting she must be physically in the class to get credit. Even those who agree to the independent studies probably do not grasp what she is undertaking. She describes trying to complete a paper for a class while under mortar attack. These are facts that academia needs to consider for their student/soldiers.

Additionally, all of the characters who return to a campus after deployment speak of their difficulty fitting back into college life which mirrors the general experience of Guardsmen trying to step back into their civilian lives. They speak of feeling as if they are the sole representitives of a war that their peers don't seem to remember exists.

One character tries to discuss her GI benefits with the university administration, and they do not know who their mandated-by-law GI benefit counselor is. These types of stories are a failure of the universities to understand the needs of veterans. These stories underscore the need for the list of "military friendly" schools.

Davenport's book is an informative look at what we as a nation ask of the members of our National Guard and what is often "the pain of returning home."