Get it going
It has been a long and slow road to here. I have not had nearly the impetus to write that I thought that I would. This has not been because I was unable to think of anything, but because there was so much to write about. I have seen so many blogs that couldn't get over their sense of self-importance enough to focus on one thing, and I didn't want that to happen.
Then again, the primary reason that I wanted to write this was not so that I could expound the truths of the world, but actually to increase my own writing ability. I therefore have decided to start writing a little each day as a sort of exercise. I will naturally drift from one topic to another, but I hope that on the balance my writing improves.
Right now, I am currently preparing for a deployment to the Middle East, and that has preoccupied me for some time. I will later talk about my feelings about war and deployment on a philosophical level, but for now, I will stick to the visceral and temporal aspects of it.
On the one hand, I am a little afraid. I do not fear that I will die, although I realize that is a possibility. But if I were dead then why would I worry about it. I am actually more worried about getting into a car accident or something like that, as I am proverbially clumsy around large things. I have already injured myself once this year, and that was from falling out of a truck. Not a moving vehicle, from which I was pitched mind you but instead a stationary vehicle, which I was dismounting.
No, rather I am worried that I will in some way fail those around me. I know that there are many people relying on me. I know that I can do things well, and that I do have the training and skills necessary to make things happen. However, I have never been in a real life or death situation or at least not one so immediate. There was always a little fudge room. On top of that, I know that it is very likely that I will have colossal periods of boredom, followed by intense moments of terror.
On the other hand, I am a little excited. This is a new experience, and life is nothing if not experience. Sometimes as we get older, we fall into the trap of the "comfort zone." Maybe there will come I time when the whole world is my comfort zone, but I doubt it. This is a new country, a new people, and a new language for me to experience. Even in war, there is a chance to make friends. Already in the military, I have learned a new meaning to friendship; I expect that it will go one step further.
The challenge of the whole thing is exciting as well. I will finally have a chance to pit myself against truly evil men who are trying to do truly bad things to people and I hope that will have expressive benefits. Of course, if I fail I will no doubt feel terrible, but that is part of the risk and the cost.
I hope that I will be able to remain somewhat aloof from the sludge into which many soldiers fall. I hope that it really is perspective. Many soldiers fall into the trap of generalization. The "Kill them all mentality" springs from frustration, and the inability to see the things that are being successful. There is an important military aspect to this as well which I hope to discuss later, but the personal one is what I am worried about now.
Hating too much can destroy the soul. That is why I think that the great men who have served in the military are so great, and why there are so often many social problems, petty and capital, that accompany the military. Many cave to the moral pressure that is put on them while they are preparing to kill, and killing people. The pressure comes form both from the action, but also from the hatred that they allow themselves to feel. It corrupts them, each in a different way. Some are lost forever (although thankfully not many), and some merely begin to compromise and change little by little.
However, those who are great men, and I mean this in the moral and historical sense, overcame the moral pressure. People like George C. Marshall, or Dwight Eisenhower, did not allow it to become personal. They learned to fight not because of the natural reaction of hate, but because it was their job, and it was expedient at the time. Many writers talk about how you fight because of the buddy to your left and right. What they often don't realize is that is the key to saving yourself from the moral degradation of fighting out of hate, or even frustration. There is a saying. "I don't fight because I hate what's in front of me but because I love what's behind me."
I hope I can keep that perspective, and I hope that I do well.
Then again, the primary reason that I wanted to write this was not so that I could expound the truths of the world, but actually to increase my own writing ability. I therefore have decided to start writing a little each day as a sort of exercise. I will naturally drift from one topic to another, but I hope that on the balance my writing improves.
Right now, I am currently preparing for a deployment to the Middle East, and that has preoccupied me for some time. I will later talk about my feelings about war and deployment on a philosophical level, but for now, I will stick to the visceral and temporal aspects of it.
On the one hand, I am a little afraid. I do not fear that I will die, although I realize that is a possibility. But if I were dead then why would I worry about it. I am actually more worried about getting into a car accident or something like that, as I am proverbially clumsy around large things. I have already injured myself once this year, and that was from falling out of a truck. Not a moving vehicle, from which I was pitched mind you but instead a stationary vehicle, which I was dismounting.
No, rather I am worried that I will in some way fail those around me. I know that there are many people relying on me. I know that I can do things well, and that I do have the training and skills necessary to make things happen. However, I have never been in a real life or death situation or at least not one so immediate. There was always a little fudge room. On top of that, I know that it is very likely that I will have colossal periods of boredom, followed by intense moments of terror.
On the other hand, I am a little excited. This is a new experience, and life is nothing if not experience. Sometimes as we get older, we fall into the trap of the "comfort zone." Maybe there will come I time when the whole world is my comfort zone, but I doubt it. This is a new country, a new people, and a new language for me to experience. Even in war, there is a chance to make friends. Already in the military, I have learned a new meaning to friendship; I expect that it will go one step further.
The challenge of the whole thing is exciting as well. I will finally have a chance to pit myself against truly evil men who are trying to do truly bad things to people and I hope that will have expressive benefits. Of course, if I fail I will no doubt feel terrible, but that is part of the risk and the cost.
I hope that I will be able to remain somewhat aloof from the sludge into which many soldiers fall. I hope that it really is perspective. Many soldiers fall into the trap of generalization. The "Kill them all mentality" springs from frustration, and the inability to see the things that are being successful. There is an important military aspect to this as well which I hope to discuss later, but the personal one is what I am worried about now.
Hating too much can destroy the soul. That is why I think that the great men who have served in the military are so great, and why there are so often many social problems, petty and capital, that accompany the military. Many cave to the moral pressure that is put on them while they are preparing to kill, and killing people. The pressure comes form both from the action, but also from the hatred that they allow themselves to feel. It corrupts them, each in a different way. Some are lost forever (although thankfully not many), and some merely begin to compromise and change little by little.
However, those who are great men, and I mean this in the moral and historical sense, overcame the moral pressure. People like George C. Marshall, or Dwight Eisenhower, did not allow it to become personal. They learned to fight not because of the natural reaction of hate, but because it was their job, and it was expedient at the time. Many writers talk about how you fight because of the buddy to your left and right. What they often don't realize is that is the key to saving yourself from the moral degradation of fighting out of hate, or even frustration. There is a saying. "I don't fight because I hate what's in front of me but because I love what's behind me."
I hope I can keep that perspective, and I hope that I do well.
posted by David Benson | 11:18 AM
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