Reading Going after Cacciato, I’m reminded of many instances in my life, my grandpa’s stories about World War II, my uncle who was never the same after many tours in Vietnam, and my dad’s tours in the Middle East. The technology of war and the localities have changed; but the harsh elements, the mental and physical toll on soldiers and the cold reality of death has not. I have lived my entire life an Air Force Brat, and for much of my younger years, my dad was TDY in the Middle East. He was there from Desert Storm through Desert Calm. Instead of dealing with grey, spongy murkiness, he had to deal with sandy winds, and heat. He never had to deal with his fellow comrades being shot in the face in front of him; they died instead in when their planes were blown up. For me, this novel offers a perspective I have not really heard before because the people I know that were in Vietnam do not talk about it. I would think in most instances, anyone in a combat would not really want to talk about the horrifying experience of war, but then again I have a little bit different perspective since I have grown up in the military.
No comments:
Post a Comment