by Laura Hillenbrand
Louis Zamperini, son of Italian immigrants and neighborhood trouble-maker, becomes a celebrated track runner (making it to an Olympic showing in Berlin), then joins the Army Air Forces as a bombardier when war breaks out. On a search and rescue mission in a dilapidated B-24, the plane crashes into the ocean; Louis and two others spend 46 days stranded on a tiny inflatable raft, hunted by sharks and tormented by thirst, with almost no supplies. This alone is a fascinating tale, but Louis’ story had only begun at that point, as he lands on an occupied island and is taken from one Japanese POW camp to another, wracked with starvation, slave labor, and the most sadistic, dignity-destroying punishments the camp commanders (including one notorious psychopath the inmates nickname Bird) can dream up. At war’s end, Louis is released, but the memories of all he has undergone and lost stay with him, forcing him to either seek new meaning in life or sink into an alcoholic fury at the world.
This is, quite simply, an incredible book. First of all, Hillenbrand is a brilliant chronicler of the tale, a meticulous, thorough researcher who writes in clear, readable prose and has a fine sense of pacing and suspense. The smallest detail is essential to the story, from Louis’ boyhood skills at thievery that later help him steal at POW camps, to the names of the few kindly Japanese guards who may have made the difference between life and death to the men. But beyond Hillenbrand’s skills as a writer, this is simple an amazing story. Full of twists and turns, nadirs and redemption, this is one true story that actually is as thrilling and as outright unbelievable as any Hollywood thriller. Though Hillenbrand’s aim in this book is to honor a nearly-forgotten hero, not to make historical arguments, Louis’ story seems to stand as solid evidence for a few historical points. One is that the Japanese treatment of American POWs, which was flouted all international rules of warfare, is eerily parallel to America’s post-9/11 treatment of “enemy combatants” (a term the Japanese used for their POWs to justify their treatment, including waterboarding). The second point is that, based on this story and some others, the Japanese military mindset appeared to be systematically sadistic, drenched in an almost alien xenophobia that bordered on the psychopathic and genocidal. There is simply no excuse for the mass starvation, slave labor, biological testing, and the infamous “kill-all” order. For all the talk by Japanese historians about “transfer of oppression” (soldiers trained brutally treated prisoners brutally), there truly is something nearly inhuman in the actions of Bird and hundreds of others. From this, and from the drilling of Japanese children and arming of women with sharpened sticks to prepare for the US invasion, it seems clear that dropping the atomic bombs was the only rational, and justifiable, move to end the war.
five stars
Showing posts with label war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label war. Show all posts
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Friday, April 10, 2009
Tales Of the South Pacific
by James Michener
1947
Easily more than the sum of its parts, this collection of stories is an eye-opening account of life in wartime: not the horrors of war (though there’s a bit of that), but the waiting, the selfless heroism, the bottled-up passion, the thankless endless toil, the vast logistics of a campaign, the suddenness of death and loss and love. The omission of this work from the academic canon is utterly incomprehensible to me; it’s everything that All Quiet on the Western Front is said to be, and more. Michener is far more than a captivating storyteller, collector of colorful characters, painter of vivid natural imagery, and chronicler of the orchestrations of world warfare. Each of the "tales" comprising his carefully-constructed epic narrative is at once thematically and stylistically related to the other smaller narratives and at the same time artistically whole in itself. While he does have poetic phrases at his command, what he can say without saying it – a subtly omitted word or a hint - is breathtaking.
Michener impresses with his vast understanding of the scope of a military operation, as in the chapter “Alligator” (the codename for a fictitious invasion) – the planning, the estimated casualties, the men needed to build, the men needed simply to replace pencils and paper for plans, and on and on – and then he finishes with a few brief, poignant lines of a man who wrote to a plain woman – “who would never be married in a hundred years anyway” – a proposal: “You was very sweet to me and I want to tell you if I…” “But he didn’t. Some don’t.” But, Michener says, that letter plus the one from the chaplain was almost as good as being married. That talent of Michener’s, the ability to juggle the big picture with the little human details, the forgotten grunts, the KIA and the faceless laborers, just blows me away. With every paragraph he weaves a new story of heroism, or efficiency, or defiance, or laziness, or lust, or bravery, or shame, and every character is all too human and believable. It makes the climax of the book, the landing at the island of Kuralei, all the more moving, as his narrator surveys the littered beaches and mourns the dead. This book is quite simply a brilliant masterpiece that should be read by every student of American history; it may be fiction, but it shows more plainly how this was the “Greatest Generation” without hagiography or needless embellishment. The did what they were asked to do, and worked and died and complained and loved, and they weren’t saints or perfect soldiers. They were Americans, is all.
five stars
1947
Easily more than the sum of its parts, this collection of stories is an eye-opening account of life in wartime: not the horrors of war (though there’s a bit of that), but the waiting, the selfless heroism, the bottled-up passion, the thankless endless toil, the vast logistics of a campaign, the suddenness of death and loss and love. The omission of this work from the academic canon is utterly incomprehensible to me; it’s everything that All Quiet on the Western Front is said to be, and more. Michener is far more than a captivating storyteller, collector of colorful characters, painter of vivid natural imagery, and chronicler of the orchestrations of world warfare. Each of the "tales" comprising his carefully-constructed epic narrative is at once thematically and stylistically related to the other smaller narratives and at the same time artistically whole in itself. While he does have poetic phrases at his command, what he can say without saying it – a subtly omitted word or a hint - is breathtaking.
Michener impresses with his vast understanding of the scope of a military operation, as in the chapter “Alligator” (the codename for a fictitious invasion) – the planning, the estimated casualties, the men needed to build, the men needed simply to replace pencils and paper for plans, and on and on – and then he finishes with a few brief, poignant lines of a man who wrote to a plain woman – “who would never be married in a hundred years anyway” – a proposal: “You was very sweet to me and I want to tell you if I…” “But he didn’t. Some don’t.” But, Michener says, that letter plus the one from the chaplain was almost as good as being married. That talent of Michener’s, the ability to juggle the big picture with the little human details, the forgotten grunts, the KIA and the faceless laborers, just blows me away. With every paragraph he weaves a new story of heroism, or efficiency, or defiance, or laziness, or lust, or bravery, or shame, and every character is all too human and believable. It makes the climax of the book, the landing at the island of Kuralei, all the more moving, as his narrator surveys the littered beaches and mourns the dead. This book is quite simply a brilliant masterpiece that should be read by every student of American history; it may be fiction, but it shows more plainly how this was the “Greatest Generation” without hagiography or needless embellishment. The did what they were asked to do, and worked and died and complained and loved, and they weren’t saints or perfect soldiers. They were Americans, is all.
five stars
Monday, September 25, 2006
Slaughterhouse-Five
by Kurt Vonnegut
1969
Billy Pilgrim, fatalistic ex-soldier injured in a plane accident, psychologically scarred in the Dresden bombing, gets “unstuck in time” and flickers back and forth through all points of his own past, present and future – which include a stay on the planet Tralfamadore. Or, he may be a nut; he lived through the firebombing of Dresden, and it scarred him.
Based loosely on Vonnegut’s own experiences, this is a remarkable book, both for its detached wisdom in discussing the Dresden massacre, and for its fantastic, careening imagination. Though I wonder how useful Vonnegut’s meta- textual self-commentary is – a typical moment is when he stops his narrative to explain the epigraph of his book – Vonnegut is clearly a philosopher and a great writer with an eye for catchy phrases and scenes (“fizzing with rabies;” “among the things he could not change were the past, the present and the future;” “so it goes”). A wonderful testament to the absurdity of human existence. So it goes.
[read twice]
five stars
1969
Billy Pilgrim, fatalistic ex-soldier injured in a plane accident, psychologically scarred in the Dresden bombing, gets “unstuck in time” and flickers back and forth through all points of his own past, present and future – which include a stay on the planet Tralfamadore. Or, he may be a nut; he lived through the firebombing of Dresden, and it scarred him.
Based loosely on Vonnegut’s own experiences, this is a remarkable book, both for its detached wisdom in discussing the Dresden massacre, and for its fantastic, careening imagination. Though I wonder how useful Vonnegut’s meta- textual self-commentary is – a typical moment is when he stops his narrative to explain the epigraph of his book – Vonnegut is clearly a philosopher and a great writer with an eye for catchy phrases and scenes (“fizzing with rabies;” “among the things he could not change were the past, the present and the future;” “so it goes”). A wonderful testament to the absurdity of human existence. So it goes.
[read twice]
five stars
Monday, July 3, 2000
The Good War: An Oral History of World War II
edited by Studs Terkel
A collection of reminisces and insights on the war. It's mostly American, but there are German, Japanese and Russian voices as well. Even so, the years 1939-41 are almost totally ignored, which is a surprising weakness is what is otherwise an immensely important book. The tales told here present hundreds of horrifying, bizarre and amazing images that linger on later. Perhaps the most memorable is the legless ex-GI, deformed from radiation and now become head of the National Association of Atomic Veterans, recounting his warm welcome in Japan and his treatments there, while the US government blocked all treatment at the VA hospital for fear of admitting negligence. And still he spouts patriotic sentiment.
From the varied accounts – the bombers and the bombed, the journalists and grunts and top brass – four main themes emerge. The first is how utterly naive, with the exceptions of a few so-called Premature Anti-Fascists, Americans were in 1941. A war was going on and almost all of them ignored its progress, ignored the likelihood of attack. The second is the attitudes Americans had after the war: prosperity became a right, and confidence was very high, among women and blacks as well as veterans. The third is the pervasive and deep racism of the Army and the U.S. Apparently white GIs told the English that blacks had tails. Blacks were shot and hanged by white soldiers. And they were fighting fascism! The fourth theme is the distrust that Americans came to feel for their government. Vietnam is mentioned again and again; the Russians as allies-to-enemies is cited. And, since the book was compiled the '80s, there is a palpable sense of fatalism in many of the stories: a feeling the bomb can drop any moment. Another WWII legacy.
four stars
A collection of reminisces and insights on the war. It's mostly American, but there are German, Japanese and Russian voices as well. Even so, the years 1939-41 are almost totally ignored, which is a surprising weakness is what is otherwise an immensely important book. The tales told here present hundreds of horrifying, bizarre and amazing images that linger on later. Perhaps the most memorable is the legless ex-GI, deformed from radiation and now become head of the National Association of Atomic Veterans, recounting his warm welcome in Japan and his treatments there, while the US government blocked all treatment at the VA hospital for fear of admitting negligence. And still he spouts patriotic sentiment.
From the varied accounts – the bombers and the bombed, the journalists and grunts and top brass – four main themes emerge. The first is how utterly naive, with the exceptions of a few so-called Premature Anti-Fascists, Americans were in 1941. A war was going on and almost all of them ignored its progress, ignored the likelihood of attack. The second is the attitudes Americans had after the war: prosperity became a right, and confidence was very high, among women and blacks as well as veterans. The third is the pervasive and deep racism of the Army and the U.S. Apparently white GIs told the English that blacks had tails. Blacks were shot and hanged by white soldiers. And they were fighting fascism! The fourth theme is the distrust that Americans came to feel for their government. Vietnam is mentioned again and again; the Russians as allies-to-enemies is cited. And, since the book was compiled the '80s, there is a palpable sense of fatalism in many of the stories: a feeling the bomb can drop any moment. Another WWII legacy.
four stars
Thursday, September 26, 1996
The First World War: A Complete History
by Martin Gilbert
This very long work is essentially a chronology of the war, from the rapid escalation of tension before August 1914 to the problems of armistice in 1918 and how they affected state relations in the 1930s. Gilbert, the official biographer of Churchill, brings home at many points the reality of the 9 million military dead of WWI through use of poems, quotes and letters written home by the men who died, as well as graphic recollections by nurses who served at the front (one image that stays with me is the room full of amputated limbs).
It’s fascinating reading and broad in scope, but it does have its problems. First, the endless litany style does grate after a while. Second, Gilbert is intensely pro-Anglo-American. Thus he ignores all the fighting out of Europe, and while he mentions Japan once, fails to dwell on why Japan entered the war, how her people felt about it, what her success or losses were, etc. Thus, too, he dwells on German “atrocities” during the war but mentions several instances which make it quite clear that barbarism and selfishness were aspects of both sides. Finally, while arguing that superior Allied force was the deciding factor in the German capitulation, he fails to convince that internal revolution played a small part. Despite these flaws, an impressive and engaging book.
four stars
This very long work is essentially a chronology of the war, from the rapid escalation of tension before August 1914 to the problems of armistice in 1918 and how they affected state relations in the 1930s. Gilbert, the official biographer of Churchill, brings home at many points the reality of the 9 million military dead of WWI through use of poems, quotes and letters written home by the men who died, as well as graphic recollections by nurses who served at the front (one image that stays with me is the room full of amputated limbs).
It’s fascinating reading and broad in scope, but it does have its problems. First, the endless litany style does grate after a while. Second, Gilbert is intensely pro-Anglo-American. Thus he ignores all the fighting out of Europe, and while he mentions Japan once, fails to dwell on why Japan entered the war, how her people felt about it, what her success or losses were, etc. Thus, too, he dwells on German “atrocities” during the war but mentions several instances which make it quite clear that barbarism and selfishness were aspects of both sides. Finally, while arguing that superior Allied force was the deciding factor in the German capitulation, he fails to convince that internal revolution played a small part. Despite these flaws, an impressive and engaging book.
four stars
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