War is a very sensual experience.
(my own version)
HEARING: I was surprised at how loud war is. The sounds are constant, grinding even, and sometimes, overwhelmingly loud. Like fireworks. Loud beyond human capacity accept audio input, so that you really don’t hear, you feel it vibrating in your internal organs. Other times soft like the crunch of a single boot on a twig, or the “pfsssst” of a star shell.
SEEING: The color of war is brown. Shit brown. Tan really... the color of dirt. Dirt on the truck, mud on the street, mud on the walls, mud walls… the whole war is like looking at life through a dirty windshield. Sometimes I google Spain or Ireland or some Pacific island just to look at the pictures and remind myself that there are still places full of beautiful living plants, and flowers. Even the blood turns brown after a while.
TOUCHING: It’s hard, like a Bradley’s armor. Cold, and angular, solid. There are so many trucks, and tanks and other large, hard vehicles; I am surprised at how used I have become to their being very close to me. Walking in the street two with two inches between you and a passing five-ton no longer elicits a flinch. How I long for a soft caress upon my shoulder, or just to hold a woman’s soft hand.
TASTING: War tastes like wax beans. Not exactly like them, but sort of generic - undifferentiated, like canned beans are. Metallic, almost. Cafeteria food, like when at college. Over-cooked steaks and Gator aid. And power bars. And stay-awake gum - yummy!
SMELLING: Oil and dust. Garbage. Occasionally burnt wood or cordite. When I remember, I take this pretty smelling conditioner into the shower with me, just so I can smell something nice once a day.
FEELING: Lonely. Late at night. And it’s just a little scared when a mortar lands a little closer than normal, and maybe just a little helpless. Not too much though, because you won’t let go.
SLEEPING: On a day to day basis, I have never been so tired in my life. Not even in basic training. So tired – It saps you, drains your mind. I have gone so long without a good night’s sleep that I couldn’t even talk straight. You get to the point where it doesn’t even matter if you get 8 or 6 or even 4 hours of sleep because whatever I do get is enough. You can work tired - and you’re not really expected to enjoy it anyway.
HEARING: I was surprised at how loud war is. The sounds are constant, grinding even, and sometimes, overwhelmingly loud. Like fireworks. Loud beyond human capacity accept audio input, so that you really don’t hear, you feel it vibrating in your internal organs. Other times soft like the crunch of a single boot on a twig, or the “pfsssst” of a star shell.
SEEING: The color of war is brown. Shit brown. Tan really... the color of dirt. Dirt on the truck, mud on the street, mud on the walls, mud walls… the whole war is like looking at life through a dirty windshield. Sometimes I google Spain or Ireland or some Pacific island just to look at the pictures and remind myself that there are still places full of beautiful living plants, and flowers. Even the blood turns brown after a while.
TOUCHING: It’s hard, like a Bradley’s armor. Cold, and angular, solid. There are so many trucks, and tanks and other large, hard vehicles; I am surprised at how used I have become to their being very close to me. Walking in the street two with two inches between you and a passing five-ton no longer elicits a flinch. How I long for a soft caress upon my shoulder, or just to hold a woman’s soft hand.
TASTING: War tastes like wax beans. Not exactly like them, but sort of generic - undifferentiated, like canned beans are. Metallic, almost. Cafeteria food, like when at college. Over-cooked steaks and Gator aid. And power bars. And stay-awake gum - yummy!
SMELLING: Oil and dust. Garbage. Occasionally burnt wood or cordite. When I remember, I take this pretty smelling conditioner into the shower with me, just so I can smell something nice once a day.
FEELING: Lonely. Late at night. And it’s just a little scared when a mortar lands a little closer than normal, and maybe just a little helpless. Not too much though, because you won’t let go.
SLEEPING: On a day to day basis, I have never been so tired in my life. Not even in basic training. So tired – It saps you, drains your mind. I have gone so long without a good night’s sleep that I couldn’t even talk straight. You get to the point where it doesn’t even matter if you get 8 or 6 or even 4 hours of sleep because whatever I do get is enough. You can work tired - and you’re not really expected to enjoy it anyway.
posted by Jack at 6:25 AM
1 Comments:
do you mind if i put this up on mypace?
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