Short Story : ' The Soldier Who Is About My Dreams '

"You just don 't know," she said. "You hide in this little fortress, behind wire and sandbags, and you don 't know what it 's all about. Sometimes I want to eat this place. Vietnam. I want to swallow the whole country—the dirt, the death—I just want to eat it and have it there inside me. That 's how I feel. It 's like . . . this appetite. I get scared sometimes—lots of times—but it 's not bad. You know? I feel close to myself. When I 'm out there at night, I feel close to my own body, I can feel my blood moving, my skin and my fingernails, everything, it 's like I 'm full of electricity and I 'm glowing in the dark—I 'm on fire almost—I 'm burning away into nothing—but it doesn 't matter because I know exactly who I am. You can 't feel like that anywhere else."” (O’ Brien 80-81). Tim O’ Brien shows how being in contact with the war can change a person so pure and innocent to a person who isn’t in connection with themselves and is forever trapped inside their own mind. Also it shows how the people who can’t handle the rough environment of war can have a terrible reaction and loose themselves. He also shows how the war changes you mentally making it hard for you to tell if the is the real you or just a persona you took when you couldn’t handle it anymore and needed to mask your broken soul.

First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt once wrote in a letter to President Harry Truman that, “No one won the last war, and no one will win the next war.” As civilians it is hard for us to imagine the unspeakable horrors that soldiers face while on the battlefield. It is equally hard to understand how they come back home so very different than the men and women we saw off at the airport all those years ago. Many soldiers have said that they went to war as a boy and came back without a mind; even though they ‘won the war’, the costs outweighed the benefits because they have to carry all of the things they did in the war zone with them the rest of their lives. In The Things They Carried, Vietnam veteran Tim O’Brien repeatedly says that he has an intense need to write down the stories of his oversees experiences even though the memories are too painful to think about. With that in mind, this essay seeks to answer the questions: Does writing about their experience help soldiers cope? What about Tim O’Brien; does writing about his experiences seem to give him any sort of relief at all?

strong soldier inside and out. Leaving home and having little to no idea what I was going to

Crumpled newspapers scattered the table like the bones of dead bodies after war. Windows wiped down of memories huddled between oak frames, facing a street with cosy cottages. Single embroidered carpets hugged the floor, covering the marble tiles in delicate silk. A whisper of wind floated in through cracks of the panes of glass, whispering it's songs of misery throughout the house. I breathed in gulps of air, allowing the icy coolness to fill my lungs, and the morning frost creep out. My glistening blue eyes presented purple bags, and my sleek hair was a tangled cobweb. My feet dragged along the stone floor like the walking of the undead. I’d been up all night, searching and seeking for answers.

Reminiscences no longer exist when soldiers are in the midst of war. They become psychosis and their sole thoughts remain on staying alive, and anything else is

Through the angle in the screen door I saw my father who had been walking into his room wheel around on one of his rubber-booted heels and look at her with his blue eyes flashing like clearest ice beneath the snow that was his hair. His usually ruddy face was drawn and grey, reflecting the exhaustion of a man of sixty-five who had been working in those rubber boots for eleven hours on an August day, and for a fleeting moment I wondered what I would do if he killed my mother while I stood there in the porch with those three foolish mackerel in my hand. Then he turned and went into his room and the radio blared forth the next day’s weather forecast and I retreated under the noise and returned again,

Silence and darkness loomed over the room. Other than the occasional snore and bed creak, the room is silent, oblivious to the war that is being fought in Vietnam. Men are being ripped apart; their innards mercilessly pierced by the multitude of rounds penetrating through the air. One wrong move and suddenly, you’re soaking red, staining the garment around your torso and cementing your fate. But in this room, we were oblivious to such pains, such bloodshed. It was like if the war wasn’t even happening at all, isolating us from the pain and the death that would ultimately be subjected upon us. One of these days, we were going to be deployed, with almost ninety percent certainty that we would never see our families again. Ah, fuck it! I joined

Not many people in society can empathize with those who have been in a war and have experienced war firsthand. Society is unaware that many individuals are taken away from their families to risk their lives serving in the war. Because of this, families are left to wonder if they will ever get to see their sons and daughters again. In a war, young men are taken away from their loved ones without a promise that they will get to see them again. The survivors come back with frightening memories of their traumatic experiences. Although some would argue that war affects families the most, authors, Tim O’Brien and Kenneth W. Bagby are able to convey the idea that war can negatively impact one’s self by causing this person long lasting emotional

There are things that cannot be said again, which is why it can be so hard to retell a true war story. A true war story is told through what can be remembered and what is thought to have happened. A lot of the stories in The Things They Carried are told to have been not completely true. This reason is because the human brain tends to block out traumatic events in life. This usually happens in war or battle for soldiers, they see such terrible events that they cannot bare to remember them so the brain just blocks it out. This does not mean they are gone by any means because a certain event could pop up and send the soldier into a freak mode that could place their mind into the war again. This is a part of PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. This disorder affects many soldiers especially ones that have been in action, such as the Vietnam

We were one step closer to base, but everyone was still vigilant of any dangers. Collins began to talk about his family life and his longing to be home again. I shared how in my wildest dreams I never thought I would be in Vietnam instead of high school. Others shared their stories shared their stories and the fear which inched through our body began to leave us. We were halfway there and Collins began to joke about Vietnamese soldiers which made my comrades chuckle. I didn't hate them. In fact, I had no dislike towards any of the soldiers who I fought. The only reason I showed no compassion for them was because it was my job. So I joined in the laughter and our pace began to slow as we talked away. We were three hours into our trek and we estimated we had walked about six miles. What we didn't know is that we actually had only walked four miles. As the chatter grew louder, someone heard movement near us. We froze like ice sickles suspended from a gutter. The fear grew feverishly throughout our group with our hands glued to our guns. We heard more movement and it seemed to be running towards us. As we continued to listen for the predator, we witnessed a red fox dart past us as fast as a bullet. We all began to chuckle and look at each other with a face with emotions mixed with fear, happiness, and every emotion in between. We contiNued our trek, but at a my h faster pace. As we walked, we did not speak. We all became focused on the common

In the northern section of the Lower Peninsula, there were leafless trees and snow flurries. I wished I could make my mind a white snow drift stretching between vacant lots. I wanted to lose my thoughts in the white fields. I wanted my memories to become concealed like the oak branches in a

After the war ended two years after my comrades death, I was about to head back home to visit family, and whatever friends I have left back in the states. I had a massive head ache getting onto to loud noisy boat, and it was hard for me to remember a lot that happened before I left for the war. I was not feeling like myself, I know that what the war had done to me i'm not going to let ruin the rest of my life. I wrote my parents a letter a couple weeks before the war was over; I told them that I would be coming home very soon, and not to worry. Once the boat was docked in American land, I felt a feeling I have not felt in a while; I felt safe, I felt comfortable, I felt so safe that it almost felt wrong to be so comfortable. I started getting

It all started on a dare, I was told to join the armed forces. So I did, but everything changed that day when I saw a petty officer sprinting down the street. Only to stop not 2 feet in front of me and say “urgent telegram for Sergeant Rose!!” Which is when I knew that something was different because I never get anything important from the air force, I had only become sergeant a month ago. The briefing was hard because we knew most wouldn’t come back. Then it was shipping day. The steps toward the plane weren’t any better most of the men were married and yet most of them knew, knew that more likely than not they weren’t making it back. As for the ones that would be able to sleep on their own beds after this, well it would be worse. They would have to live with the fact that they lost their brothers in arms, but hey I'm getting ahead of myself, gotta focus on surviving.

Many scholarly journals and articles solely focus on the effects of war mentally and physically on soldiers. Veterans returning home after being away at battle go through something known as Post-traumatic stress disorder. This can involve problems with adjusting to a so called normal life. Nightmares keep them awake at night, reliving the traumatic experience of the battlefield again. Any loud noises can trigger the feelings and emotions of being pulled back into war. They fall into destructive habits, allowing isolation to break apart once strong and sturdy relationships. Although this book does not focus on Post-traumatic stress disorder among soldiers, many of the trauma survivors go through the same situations as veterans.

I practically fell out of the bus. I had no money to buy water and I was sweating bullets. All I have to do is to get to is get to Martin’s house I thought. Then they will aid me with my arid throat. But wait, I have forgotten where they live! I should travel to the town’s central area and maybe I will remember how to get to Martin’s house! If not, then I can just ask someone on the street, I thought. As I trudged on, I could feels scabs on my feet. The money in my boots must have caused this, I thought. But it was necessary, I wanted a proper funeral. The sun beated upon my head as I blindly walked through the town. My sight was starting to appear with blur.