Field Trip

                           Twenty years I can't believe twenty years have gone by since it happened so long ago in Nam. The narrow mountain pass where it happened where the mortar shots took my platoon with it except for me. It happened when I was takin' a piss out in the bush a little higher up just minding my business and getting ready to join up with my platoon, that's when the mortar shots began. I took a bullet to the shoulder as I ran for cover. The rain hadn't stopped in days and the face of the mountain turned to mud. Some of the mortar shots hit a small rocky ridge causing a land slide all the mud and rock came down onto where my platoon had set up camp. The Lieutenant had said that ridge would provide shelter from enemy fire, but it fell with the rain and came oozing down over them, all my comrades who had become brothers—gone. A little earlier we had called for a dustoff chopper, one man I didn't know well had died, he always trailed behind nervous and bug eyed, poor fella' was his second day, but couldn't tell left from right up from down he was just disoriented. Wrong guy in the wrong place, he just could't take it. All the chopper ended up takin' was me, brought me back to the rear to fix me up after that bullet I took to the shoulder. They asked me what happened before the chopper took off I explained everythin' down to why I wasn't there with them all at our camping area. I forgot to mention it was nighttime and most of the men were in their foxholes when the mud slid down the mountainside, to seal them in as if they were tunnel rats, forever sealed away in enemy occupied land. I tried to think about the hospitals and the cute nurses, but I couldn't I felt as little as I could have done responsible and I wasn't even the Lieutenant who had been responsible for the lot of us, he was gone too. So now today twenty years later I stand infront of the area where the land crumbled I walk over to where I was when it all happened next to some tall trees and looked down at where there was no ridge but just a small mound formed by the fallen dirt which was overgrown with plants, weeds, and tall grasses.

The Man I Killed

                     In this Chapter it is Tim O'Brien who is telling the story of the man he killed. I think all the details that O'Brien describes about the man he has killed, besides physical details, come from inner reflection during the five minutes Kiowa has given him next to the man. O'Brien cannot stop staring and is thinking of all the things the man will miss and what led up to his death. The details are him coming to terms with the fact that this man is dead, but he was probably taken out of his misery and sadness towards honor for his family which he wanted by going to war willingly, as if it were privilege.

                     O'Brien regrets killing this man, but he threw a grenade without thinking, for he was afraid of the man. Kiowa asks him if he would rather trade places with the man, and to think about it. It was a life or death situation. Nonetheless O'Brien can't stop thinking of the state the body is now in and of all the damage he made. Also he thinks of the man's rubber sandals that blown off as he was pulled through the air and thrown to the ground before him.

Sweetheart of the Song Tra Bong

                           I think Mary Ann becomes in essence one with Vietnam she kills to protect it, for I think she has learned to love it.  It does not matter that she is a women, but most men are afraid of it for they do not know Vietnam, she learns to know it. They are afraid for they know of the stories from fellow soldiers. She is new to the land however, and morphs to it she wants to incorporate herself into the earth she camouflages herself into it. I think O'Brien lets Rat Kiley tell part of the story because individually the soldiers know so little of what and who they are fighting because they do not know of the land—Vietnam. I believe Rat's story fits O'Brien's criteria for how to tell a true war story, because it definitely does not suggest models of proper human behavior, and has no moral, and neither does war itself. War falls to the land it disappears and wears away it becomes the land just as Mary Ann did.

                         Most of the men went to war, not because they enlisted, but because they were drafted. Instead of running away from it all, decided that they cared more about honoring their families by going to war and not "shaming them." Mary Ann however was not afraid she did not care about the what the soldiers thought, she learned to love the land and and learned to become one with it and to protect it.

The Things They Carried

                   The things I carry are many, from my Papa's ID of the Connect Americas Summit, for he is often traveling, to my watch to keep time as the minutes go by at school, and my Samsung cellphone kept away for long minutes of talking. I also have my extra change of dollar bills and quarters stowed in my pocket, and in my backpack are: my books and papers, my Toyota flashlight strung on an old camera cord for blackouts, my green umbrella to keep the rain off of my back, my CISL PE bag with my runners, towel, and PE uniform, which hold the memories of running; sweat; and freedom. I carry my agenda covered with drawings and thoughts to go along with my homework, my Buffalo pencil case, my Texas Instruments TI-84 Plus Silver Edition graphing calculator, and my geometry set. In my mind I carry assignments, stress, my old locker combination and my new one, my locker number, sleepiness and memorized notes. I carry my computer in its black Incase computer case with the one broken zip slider, my computer charger, hours of late night and last minute work, my navy blue Balboa sweater and uniform on my back along with my black Ecco shoes, my schedule; kleenexes; and Mirriam-Webster Spanish-English electronic dictionary. I carry my pewter eagle from my Nana, a poppy pin, a keychain from first grade, a deck of cards, and a tie clip from the days when I would play dress up with my Papa's ties. I carry not all because it is necessary, but because it helps me go to school with a feeling of confidence and pride.  

Spin

                          "All that peace man, it felt so good it hurt. I want to hurt it back" I think this says that peace during war only comes is short bursts and that when peace comes it is bittersweet for it reminds soldiers of home and not fighting they feel as if it is there mocking them that they are at war. Peace at war seems fake this is why O'Brien says he wants to hurt is back. This says that the war involved peace but it seemed far away because the soldier's homes were far away. It made their fighting efforts seem worthless, it made it seem as if they were expendables and that they themselves were worthless, as if they would all die in vain—for nothing.

     

War Letters

Dearest Mother,

           Life is harsh here in Vietnam and the days have now become blurred with fighting and marching. I am tired of the mud and sweat that plaster my skin and of the smell of burning foliage and brush. Men fall all around me and the stench of rotting flesh and blood fills my nostrils. I feel alone although I march with my platoon. The war is engulfing all a taking everything down with it. I found a stray dog which I've been feeding scraps of my rations to for the past week I've named him Huey after the helicopters he seems to respond to this name. The other soldiers say I should put a bullet through his head before I get attached to the dog, they tell me it's war and there's no time for that, making friends with a mutt and all, but I couldn't do that. I haven't killed a man yet, but find it hard to face the fact that I'll have to sooner or later, probably in self defense. Just thinking about that makes me want to keep Huey safe away from it all, I don't know why I'm here or who I'm fighting, but Huey is probably fighting hunger and he is probably more afraid of the war himself then I am. He probably doesn't even know what war is either, just one day sitting in his village, then the next there's bombing and explosions and the screaming of wounded men and villagers, he probably doesn't even know what to make of it.
I am getting more hopeful though for the rain seems to be stopping, I think it is the dry season now. There and less and less muddy patches and rivers that we have to cross to lately. The rhythmic droning of helicopter roters always wakes me in my foxhole, which is unpleasant for I hate waking up to the smell and feeling of cold wet dirt against my skin and being pulled away from my dreams, a place away from this wretched war. I hope you stay well I'll be back as soon as I can, please try to worry as little as possible.

Love,

Eric


Why I chose To Write To This Person:
 I chose to write to my mother for I have a special bond with her and am really close to her. She cared for me when I was little and I think she would want to know first what is going on if I went to war.

I have chosen to share the information I have because although the truth is often harsh I know that she would want to know what is going on and how things are.

I did not hide information from her for I know the truth would be what she would want to here from me. Instead of lies and made up follies war just isn't pretty.

The Vietnam War

                               We Learned about the Vietnam War in class. What stuck with me was the sound of a UH1-Huey helicopter, used as the U.S. military's main transport throughout Vietnam. I also learned more about how men were drafted to the war by birth date. The system for choosing men was similar to a lottery, but with birth certificates instead. Many soldiers had no idea why they were fighting and against who they fought was also mystery. Most soldiers were drafted and very few enlisted voluntarily. To avoid the draft many men fled to Canada, or stated that fighting was against their religious beliefs. Agent orange was a defoliant spread to kill leaves on trees it was dispersed from helicopters to help spot Viet Cong soldiers. This greatly affected American soldiers later on after the war, due to overexposure. Many became sick with illnesses such as prostate cancer.  The Viet Cong had underground complexes of tunnels where they hid, so agent orange would not have helped much to spot them. The Vietnam War to the soldiers was a seemingly endless march that lasted under rain and shine. They marched through mud and rivers and lived in harsh conditions, they marched until their muscles hurt and for some they marched to their deaths.