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bfcc184
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"Killing people is easier than it should be." Dad put on his beret. "Staying alive is harder." --
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killing
veterans
war
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Laurie Halse Anderson |
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99dec46
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The tree had become our unspoken symbol of that important Christmas when we had all dug deep and fought for one another--for our survival. For our family. For our happiness. And in the process, discovering the true meaning of Christmas.
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holiday
ptsd
veterans
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Mary Alice Monroe |
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8ac5804
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This dog had shown more courage than I. This great, powerful, beautiful dog was willing to take a chance on me - a broken, depressed, lonely Marine.
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holiday
ptsd
veterans
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Mary Alice Monroe |
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6a0b773
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"Nobody remembers them, you know ? Nobody. Nobody remebers why they died, why they didnt have a wife and children and a sun lit room either, nobody, least of all people for whom they fought. There is no and there never will be some pathetic street in one pathetic village of a shitty country that is named after any of them." Miralles stopped talking, he took out his handkerchief, wiped the tears, blew his nose, he did so without shame, as if he was not ashamed of crying in public, as Homers warriors of old did it, as any soldier of Salamis would do."
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legion-etrangere
veterans
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Javier Cercas |
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8f6eb25
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I was about to tell her that Miralles hadn't fought in one war, but many, but I couldn't, because I suddenly saw Miralles walking across the Libyan desert towards the Murzuk oasis- young, ragged, dusty and annonymous, carrying the tricolour flag of a country not his own, of a country that is all countries and also the country of liberty and which only exists because he and four Moors and a black guy are raising that flag as they keep walking onwards, onwards, ever onwards.
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legion-etrangere
veterans
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Javier Cercas |
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831a724
|
A thug. In peacetime Fitch would be hanging around a pool table giving the cops trouble. He was perfect for war. Tibbets had chosen his men well - most of them, anyway. Moving back past Haddock January stopped to stare at the group of men in the navigation cabin. They joked, drank coffee. They were all a bit like Fitch: young toughs, capable and thoughtless. They're having a good time, an adventure. That was January's dominant impression of his companions in the 509th; despite all the bitching and the occasional moments of overmastering fear, they were having a good time. His mind spun forward and he saw what these young men would grow up to be like as clearly as if they stood before him in businessmen's suits, prosperous and balding. They would be tough and capable and thoughtless, and as the years passed and the great war receded in time they would look back on it with ever-increasing nostalgia, for they would be the survivors and not the dead. Every year of this war would feel like ten in their memories, so that the war would always remain the central experience of their lives - a time when history lay palpable in their hands, when each of their daily acts affected it, when moral issues were simple, and others told them what to do - so that as more years passed and the survivors aged, bodies falling apart, lives in one rut or another, they would unconsciously push harder and harder to thrust the world into war again, thinking somewhere inside themselves that if they could only return to world war then they would magically be again as they were in the last one - young, and free, and happy. And by that time they would hold the positions of power, they would be capable of doing it.
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veterans
war
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Kim Stanley Robinson |