I managed to sneak in "Zebras" somewhere in my Blog...search for it, it's like "where's waldo" of blogs.
Okay...here it goes...
uuuhhmmm.
This time the problem isn't that I don't GET IT. But it's more--I don't like it? I don't fully embrace it? I don't think this is, to quote John le Carre (whoever he is), "The best book I have ever read on men and war in our time."
It's not that I'm completely against the book either. There are some truly insightful moments and some rather poignant lines, but in the end--i guess yeah, I don't get it. Half the time I don't understand the war jargon, "They were both from Hotel Company of the 2nd Battalion, which was dug in along the northern perimeter, but they were taking advantage of the day to visit a friend of theirs, a mortar man with 1/26"--what the heck is Hotel Company? A bunch of men who like hotels? And 2nd Battalion? 2nd Battalion of what? Marines? Army? Calvary? Zebras? I can make conjectures at what a mortar man is but what is it that he does 1/26th of?
(Okay...i'm not THAT military illiterate...I'm pretty sure Hotel Company is the term form H-Company, 2nd Battalion is PROBABLY referring to a Marine Battalion, and 1/26 is really something like 1st Battalion 26th regiment)
but still...the point is, I don't really NEED to know that the Hotel boys were going to visit the mortar men. I find myself skimming through most of the technical blabbering until I get to another human-realization-epiphany-war-is-hell-moment.
SHIFTING FOCUS:
I was talking to Spencer earlier this week about how my OWN life is quite the Vietnam in itself. I had two missed doctor's appointments, the first because I went to the building and found out my doctor moved, the second because I thought it was a week earlier than it actually was—wasting a total of $26 dollars on cabs/buses. I then found out my landlords decided NOT to let me get a cat which crushed my spirits tragically. AND to top it off...THE SEAHAWKS WERE ROBBED IN THE SUPERBOWL!!!
I mean, come on, my life SUCKS!
Oh, wait...maybe that's just me bitching.
And reading this book makes me realize that yes, I am just bitching--in fact, my life is pretty WONDERFUL compared to the grunts who had to worry about their hoo-ha's being blown off. In fact, my life has been pretty sugar-coated, handed to me, my toughest decision is what shoes to wear, simple.
This book has put my own life into a rather unsettling perspective. Reading/watching/hearing about Vietnam always makes me realize how difficult I DON'T actually have it. Kind of makes me want to shut up and join the army--except not really, because i have no balls. But still. Bravo to those who survived. A bigger bravo to those who didn't. Vietnam was some heavy shit that I could have never gone through, and if anything, Herr does get that message across loud and clear.
uuuhhmmm.
This time the problem isn't that I don't GET IT. But it's more--I don't like it? I don't fully embrace it? I don't think this is, to quote John le Carre (whoever he is), "The best book I have ever read on men and war in our time."
It's not that I'm completely against the book either. There are some truly insightful moments and some rather poignant lines, but in the end--i guess yeah, I don't get it. Half the time I don't understand the war jargon, "They were both from Hotel Company of the 2nd Battalion, which was dug in along the northern perimeter, but they were taking advantage of the day to visit a friend of theirs, a mortar man with 1/26"--what the heck is Hotel Company? A bunch of men who like hotels? And 2nd Battalion? 2nd Battalion of what? Marines? Army? Calvary? Zebras? I can make conjectures at what a mortar man is but what is it that he does 1/26th of?
(Okay...i'm not THAT military illiterate...I'm pretty sure Hotel Company is the term form H-Company, 2nd Battalion is PROBABLY referring to a Marine Battalion, and 1/26 is really something like 1st Battalion 26th regiment)
but still...the point is, I don't really NEED to know that the Hotel boys were going to visit the mortar men. I find myself skimming through most of the technical blabbering until I get to another human-realization-epiphany-war-is-hell-moment.
SHIFTING FOCUS:
I was talking to Spencer earlier this week about how my OWN life is quite the Vietnam in itself. I had two missed doctor's appointments, the first because I went to the building and found out my doctor moved, the second because I thought it was a week earlier than it actually was—wasting a total of $26 dollars on cabs/buses. I then found out my landlords decided NOT to let me get a cat which crushed my spirits tragically. AND to top it off...THE SEAHAWKS WERE ROBBED IN THE SUPERBOWL!!!
I mean, come on, my life SUCKS!
Oh, wait...maybe that's just me bitching.
And reading this book makes me realize that yes, I am just bitching--in fact, my life is pretty WONDERFUL compared to the grunts who had to worry about their hoo-ha's being blown off. In fact, my life has been pretty sugar-coated, handed to me, my toughest decision is what shoes to wear, simple.
This book has put my own life into a rather unsettling perspective. Reading/watching/hearing about Vietnam always makes me realize how difficult I DON'T actually have it. Kind of makes me want to shut up and join the army--except not really, because i have no balls. But still. Bravo to those who survived. A bigger bravo to those who didn't. Vietnam was some heavy shit that I could have never gone through, and if anything, Herr does get that message across loud and clear.
posted by jody at 2:58 AM
1 Comments:
I agree with you so much on your first part. I "get it" but I don't think it;s all that great. Oh, and I didn't find any Zebras. I think I should demand my money back. I paid GOOD money to see not just ONE zebra, but two Zebras, PLURAL!
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