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.
Monday, October 29, 2012
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.
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