Shit Field

(Kathleen)

Just recently, I brought Kathleen and it was her birthday present. I was talking in my last post about how someday when she was old enough I wanted to be able to let her know more about my experiences in war. Well I thought she was finally old enough to understand. I took her to the mausoleum in Ho Chi Minh, a few monuments, government offices, and orphanages. I think Kathleen has had a good time, although I think she is a bit puzzled. I h0pe she has learned more about me and my experience through our trip. On our trip I returned back to the site of my good friend, Kiowa's death. I was looking for answers. All the good men we lost in war Kiowa's death still bothers me to this day and I just wanted to pay my respects. It didn't look the same to me. It seemed so much different than what it looked like the night Kiowa sunk into the shit pond. The field was peaceful and quiet. I took a couple pictures. I brought Kiowa's moccasins and I dipped myself in roughly the spot we found Kiowa. I wedged his moccasins in the bottom of the mud with my feet. I think the experience has helped me let go of Kiowa's death. Getting rid of all the numbness I have experienced the last twenty years of my life. I just hope that Kathleen takes the trip, and she starts to understand. Kathleen, is my love.

Kathleen

My beautiful daughter. My love, she means the world to me. Currently, I have been writing books. Mostly about Vietnam. I just had a friend committees suicide, and I have written the book "Speaking of Courage" at the suggestions of Norman. I haven't been on my blog for ages, so I just thought I should fill everybody in. I just wanted to tell you guys a story now about my daughter, Kathleen. She is nine now and she is going to Sherberry Elementary. The other day she asked me if I had ever killed anybody. She knows that I was in war before her and her mother met. I had no idea what to tell her. My innocent baby girl. I don't want her to ever think any different of me. She said, "You keep writing these war stories, so I guess you must've killed somebody." (pg.131) I just wanted to protect my baby. She is so young, I remember my first experience with death. It was her age. And it still bothers me. I don't want her to think that her father is a murderer. I hope that she asks me again when she is old enough to understand. I don't want her to think of me as a liar either. My baby girl was exactly correct. I write my books to get past these memories. To separate the memories. To get them off my chest. I love Kathleen and I hope to someday be able to tell her why I do what I do. And let her know of the pain I have been through.

Death

In my life I have experienced so many deaths. Death is terrible. In war there was so many bodies of so many men, I couldn't even look. Us soldiers would try to make death light. And develop a sense of humor about it. Death is real, and death is not funny, but when you are around it so often. The sorrow and pain of death disappears. You become desensitized. I experienced a death at a very young age. I was only nine when my girlfriend of the time died of a brain tumor. We were in love, it was young love. Young love or not, we were in love. I didn't understand what it was like to loose someone. At the funeral home I felt sick and in disbelief. I would have dreams about her being alive. Linda said in a dream once that death, "It's like being inside a book that nobody's reading...An old one. It's up on a library shelf so you're safe and everything, but the book hasn't been checked out for a long, long time. All you can do is wait. Just hope somebody'll pick it up and start reading." I do this with all the people I loved. I dream about them and pretend that they really were alive. Curt Lemon, Ted Lavender, Kiowa, Linda, and sometimes I even dream that the young child in me are skating around on the ice.

"There should be a law, I thought. If you support a war, if you think it's worth the price, that's fine, but you have to put your own precious fluid on the line. You have to head for the front and hook up with an infantry unit and help spill the blood. And you have to bring along your wife, or your kids, or your lover. A law I thought (p.42)" This really touches me. I am anti-war. I believe no one should be forced to go fight for their country. For the people who have never served that talk about the war saying they support it. They have no right to say that they want the war unless they have felt what it's like to be soldier and fight in war. They don't know all the sacrifice and basically hell they are putting someone through. If they had fought I know they would not be wishing that upon anyone. No one should have to put their lives on the line. For the people that do choose to, I look up to you. I don't quite understand why someone would want to be a soldier, especially if you have a family back home. But I know that they are men out there that are honored to fight for the government.

Signing off,
Tim O' Brien