►
From YouTube: Tim O'Brien on "The Things They Carried"
Description
Author Tim O'Brien speaks at Arlington's Central Library on his critically acclaimed book "The Things They Carried" an extraordinary work of Vietnam War literature. This event is a special feature of the 2011 Arlington Reads campaign, which was recently recognized as an Outstanding Acheivement in Local Government Innovation award from the Alliance for Innovation.
A
So
many
of
you
could
be
here
we're
proud
to
say
that
last
year's
Arlington
reads
was
recently
chosen
for
an
outstanding
achievement
in
local
government
Innovation
Award,
and
this
was
from
the
Alliance
for
innovation,
which
is
an
international
network
of
progressive
governments
and
partners.
Now,
in
its
sixth
year,
Arlington
reads:
uses
reading
to
create
community
by
focusing
on
an
issue
or
theme
relevant
to
the
lives
of
County
residents,
and
all
funding
for
Arlington
reads
is
generously
provided
by
the
Friends
of
Arlington
library,
a
group
that
we
really
couldn't
exist
without.
A
This
year's
theme,
the
soldier's
story
serving
country
and
community,
is
certainly
timely,
with
troops
still
in
Iraq
and
Afghanistan,
and
the
recent
air
action
over
Libya
this
evenings
guest
author
Tim
O'brien,
has
been
called
the
best
American
writer
of
his
generation,
and
his
work
is
certainly
some
of
the
most
important
in
modern
writing.
His
Arlington
reads:
featured
title
The
Things,
They
Carried
is
based
on
his
experience
as
an
infantryman
in
Vietnam
and
uses
the
medium
of
story
to
present
a
parallax
view
of
that
experience.
A
While
the
book
is
about
war,
it's
also
about
the
medium
of
story.
How
we
use
story
to
deal
with
choices.
We
make
actions
we
take
and
beliefs
we
hold
and
how
we
create
stories
that
save
heal,
justify,
explain
and,
in
the
author's
own
words,
keep
the
Dead
Alive
stories
that
tell
the
story
of
our
time
in
the
world,
not
as
it
is,
but
as
we
would
like
it
to
be,
the
Things
They
Carried
included
the
physical
weight
of
such
necessities
as
ammo
dental
floss,
canned
peaches,
cigarettes,
dr.
A
Scholl's,
foot
powder,
rain,
ponchos,
comic
books,
letters
from
home
and
the
weight
of
spiritual,
psychological
and
emotional
burdens,
nourished
by
survivor's
guilt
and
imperfect
memory.
The
Things
They
Carried
takes
place
in
Vietnam,
yet
its
evocation
of
life's
conflicts,
both
internal
and
external,
is
universal.
It's
a
timeless
piece
of
literature
that
continues
to
stir
the
imagination.
Earlier
today,
mr.
A
O
Brien
met
with
Marymount
University
students
and
talked
to
them
about
the
book
and
their
reading
of
it
this
semester
and
tonight
it's
our
turn
to
hear
him
describe
how
the
things
they
carried
came
to
be
and
how
its
story
continues
to
change
and
evolve
with
the
perspective
of
a
new
generation
of
readers.
After
mr.
O'brien's
comments
will
do
QA
and
then
there'll
be
a
book
signing
courtesy
of
Jerry
from
Barnes
&
Noble.
So
again,
ladies
and
gentlemen,
it's
our
pleasure
to
welcome
our
2011
Arlington
reads:
featured
fiction
author
Tim
O'brien.
B
Thank
you
right.
What
a
what
a
great
pleasure
to
be
here
tonight
and
thank
you
all
for
coming
out.
I
want
to
first
say
a
word
about
libraries,
so
I
think
if
it
were
not
for
libraries,
I
would
not
be
standing
here
today,
but
I,
don't
think
so.
I
know
not
my
dad
served
on
the
library
board
in
my
hometown
of
Worthington
Minnesota
for
about
25
years.
B
It
was
his
job
as
a
member
of
the
library
board
to
convince
local
County
Commissioners
to
fund
the
place
to
give
them
money
and
he
would
come
home
after
doing
battle
with
these
commissioners,
not
all
of
whom
were
supporters
of
the
library
and
I
can
remember
anecdote.
My
dad
coming
and
I
was
probably
got
old,
12
years
old,
or
so
after
doing
battle
with
these
people
trying
to
get
an
extra
dollar
or
two
to
buy
a
you
know
subscribe
to
The,
New,
Yorker
or
whatever,
and
having
one
of
these
commissioners
look
around
the
library.
B
B
All
alike,
and
as
if
there
is
no
dialogue
between
now
and
you
know,
ages,
past
and
that
doesn't
have
to
continue
on
it
was
in
that
library,
the
nobles
County
library
in
this
small
town
in
southern
Minnesota,
amid
the
soybeans
and
the
corn
that
I
first
began
reading
seriously
as
a
kid
and
by
seriously
I
don't
mean
Shakespeare
I
mean
the
Hardy
Boys
and
hilari
the
Little
League
and
whatever
presented
itself.
It
didn't
matter
much
as
long
as
I
got
me
interested
in
the
written
word
and
got
my
imagination
engaged.
It
was.
B
Where
are
we
all
in
one
way
or
another
start
whether
it's
with
the
you
know,
Alice
in
Wonderland
or
the
Grimm's
fairy
tales
Thumbelina
whatever
it
might
be?
I
can
remember
that
library,
if
I
close
my
eyes
as
clearly
and
as
poignant
Lee
as
anything
I,
can
remember
in
Vietnam,
and
that
library
was
as
important
to
my
becoming
a
writer
as
anything
that
occurred
to
me
in
the
course
of
that
war.
I
wrote
my
first
book
in
that
library.
A
book
called
Timmy
of
the
Little
League,
which
was
I,
would
complete
ripoff
of
a
book.
B
B
I
can
still
smell
the
Johnson's
paste
wax
on
that
floor
and
see
the
ceiling,
fans,
spinning
and
one
of
these
old
Carnegie
libraries
that
used
to
dot
the
Midwest
and
still
do
it
was
a
place
of
peace
and
of
comfort
and
of
quietude
and
of
imagination.
Things
happening
in
that
library
in
my
head
that
can't
happen
anywhere
else.
So
here's
the
library's.
Thank
you
all
for
supporting
this
one.
B
But
there
it
became
immediate
that
sense
of
mortality
presses
down
at
you
at
21
years
old
and
I
found
the
same
thing
happening
now,
being
a
father,
a
sense
of
my
own
mortality,
pressing
in
on
me,
20
years
from
now
30
years.
Now
it's
not
a
happy.
You
know
a
bunch
of
visions
that
are
coming
into
my
head
in
this
book
early
on
in
the
book.
Maybe
chapter
I
think
it's
three
or
so
is
a
short
little
letter
to
my
first
son
upon
his
use
about
a
year
and
a
half
old.
B
When
I
wrote
this
and
then
after
reading
this
to
you
I'm
going
to
move
on
to
the
Things
They
Carried
then
take
questions
dear
Kimmy,
a
little
more
than
a
year
ago
on
June
20th
2003,
you
dropped
into
the
world
my
son,
my
first
and
only
child
a
surprise,
a
gift,
a
miracle
and
eater
of
electrical
cords,
a
fertilizer
factory,
joy,
a
pain
in
the
ass.
That's
rill
in
the
heart
here
is
the
truth.
B
Timmy
boy,
oh
boy,
do
I
love
you
and
boy
do
I
wish
I
could
spend
the
next
50
years
with
my
lips
pressed
to
your
cheek
my
eyes,
warming
in
yours,
but
now,
as
you
wobble
into
your
16th
month,
it
occurs
to
me
that
you
may
never
really
know
your
dad.
The
actuarial
stuff
looks
grim
even
now,
and
what
they
call
an
older
father
and
in
10
years
should
I
have
the
good
luck
to
turn.
68
I'll
almost
certainly
have
trouble.
B
B
Harkes
go
still,
life
is
fragile,
and
so
now,
just
in
case
I
want
to
tell
you
about
your
father,
the
man
I
think
I
am,
and
by
that
I
mean
not
just
a
graying
old
coot.
You
may
vaguely
remember,
but
the
man
who
shares
your
name,
your
blood
and
half
your
DNA,
the
human
essence,
the
Tim,
who
himself
was
once
a
Timmy
above
all
I'm.
B
This
I
am
in
love
with
you,
pinwheeling
bedazzled,
aching,
love,
and,
if
you
know
nothing
else
about
your
father
know
that
he
adored
you
in
many
ways
a
man
is
what
he
yearns
for
and
though
it
may
never
happen,
I
yearn
to
walk
a
golf
course
at
your
side,
I
yearned
for
a
golden
afternoon
and
late
August
when
you'll
sink
a
tough
12
footer
to
beat
me
by
a
stroke
or
two
I,
yearn
to
shake
your
hand.
I.
B
B
B
Are
you
under
watch?
You
perform
your
first
act
of
kindness
and
generosity.
I,
yearn
to
witness
your
first
act
of
moral
courage
to
utter
that
difficult
word.
No
and
I
yearn
to
hear
you
mutter,
however,
awkwardly
yeah
yeah,
I,
love
you
too
and
I
yearn
to
believe
you
will
mean
it
Timmy,
it's
hard
to
imagine
as
I
watch
you
now
so
light
hearted,
so
purely
good,
so
ignorant
of
gravestones.
B
This
is
not
to
demean
my
life
or
my
writing.
I
do
hope
you
will
someday,
read
those
books
and
stories.
I
hope
you
will
find
my
ghost
in
those
pages,
my
best
self,
the
man
I
wish
I
could
be,
for
you
call
it
pride.
Call
it
love,
but
I
even
dare
to
hope
that
you
will
commit
a
line
or
two
to
memory
for
in
the
dream.
Space
between
those
vowels
and
consonants
is
the
sound
of
your
father's
voice.
B
B
There
have
been
advantages
becoming
a
father
in
my
age.
I
doubt
that
at
28
Thor
at
38
I
would
have
been
so
willing
so
eager
to
walk
away
from
my
work
to
warm
your
bottle.
I
doubt
I
would
have
fully
appreciated
as
I
do
now.
The
way
you
toddled
over
to
me
this
morning
laughed
and
gave
me
that
first
unsolicited
hug,
you
knew
I
was
waiting.
Didn't
you
I
doubt
I
would
have
so
easily
tolerated
the
din
at
bedtime,
you're,
stubborn
recklessness
or
your
determination
to
electrocute
yourself
or
the
mouthfuls
of
dirt.
B
B
E
B
I
think
those
of
you
who
are
parents
in
this
room
and
I
know
there's
got
to
be
a
lot
of
you
know
what
I
know
about
sex
in
the
world
we
live
in.
There
are
a
lot
of
you
out
there
and
I
think
you
know
what
I
mean
about
now.
Having
listened
to
that,
what
I
mean
about
the
similarities
between
going
off
to
a
war
or
facing
your
own
mortality,
dead-on
and
being
a
parent
becoming
aware
of
it
of
what
the
world
will
deliver?
B
No
matter
what
your
age,
you
could
be
63
or
23,
but
having
a
young
child
under
your
charge
and
under
your
care,
brings
on
those
same
thoughts
of
what
the
world
may
be
ten
years
from
now
or
20
I'm
going
to
turn
now,
rather
abruptly,
in
fact,
to
many
many
moons
ago
to
the
world
of
Vietnam
my
objective
in
the
next
15
minutes
before
I
start
taking.
Your
question
is
to
try
to
give
you
a
feel
for
why
the
things
they
carried
is
written.
B
The
way
it
is
by
that
I
essentially
mean
why
the
blur
between
fiction
and
reality
and
the
questions
you
must
have
been
asking
yourself.
As
you
read
the
book,
why
is
this
stuff
invented?
Why
isn't
he
drawing
directly
on
his
own
experiences
from
the
war,
and
why
is
he
casting
a
real
life
experience,
my
own
case,
being
a
foot
soldier
in
Vietnam
through
the
route
through
the
world
of
fiction?
B
Why
not
just
tell
what
happened
and
let
it
end
there
the
way
I'm
going
to
tackle
this
problem
is
to
read
for
you
a
very
short
section
from
the
things
they
carried
as
a
way
of
talking
about
the
book
as
a
whole.
Just
to
remind
you
of
this
section
and
then
talk
about
why
I
chose
to
write
this
chapter
and
the
book
as
a
whole.
The
way
I
did
this
chapter
is
called
ambush.
It
features
early
on
you're,
going
to
hear
the
name
of
a
daughter
named
Kathleen.
B
She
is
invented,
I,
don't
I
didn't
have
any
daughter
named
Kathleen
when
I
wrote
that
this
chapter
and
I
filled
out
I,
don't
have
any
daughters
at
all.
I
needed
a
child
to
do
what
adults
will
not
do,
which
is
to
ask
the
pretty
blunt
questions.
Daddy.
Did
you
ever
kill
anybody?
You
must
have
grown
ups.
Won't
do
that
for
good
reasons.
Of
course
they
don't
want
to
intrude
and
embarrass
you
and
so
on.
Children
will
that's
part
of
the
answer
to
the
issue.
I
just
brought
up.
Why
should
I
fiction
when
she
was
9?
B
B
It
was
a
hard
moment
that
I
did
what
I
thought
was
right,
which
was
to
say,
of
course,
not
and
then
to
take
her
on
my
lap
and
just
hold
her
for
a
while
some
day.
I
hope,
she'll,
ask
again,
but
here
right
now,
I
want
to
pretend
she's.
A
grown-up
I
want
to
tell
her
exactly
what
happened
or
what
I
remember
happening,
and
then
I
want
to
say
to
her
that
as
a
little
girl,
she
was
absolutely
right.
B
He
was
a
short
slender
young
man
of
about
20
I
was
afraid
of
him,
afraid
of
something
and,
as
he
passed
me
on,
the
trail
I
threw
a
grenade
that
landed
at
his
feet
and
killed
him
or
to
go
back
shortly
after
midnight,
we
moved
into
the
ambush
site
outside
a
little
village
called
meek,
a
the
whole
platoon
was
there.
Maybe
30
of
us
spread
out
in
the
dense
brush
along
the
trail
and
for
five
hours
and
nothing
at
all
happened.
B
B
Groping
from
my
helmet
and
my
weapon,
I
reached
out
and
found
three
grenades
and
lined
them
up
in
front
of
me.
The
pins
had
already
been
straightened
for
quick,
throwing
and
then
for
maybe
half
an
hour,
I
just
kneeled
there
in
the
dark
and
waited
very
gradually
and
tiny.
Slivers
dawn
began
to
break
through
the
morning.
Fog
and
from
my
position
in
the
brush
I
could
see
10
or
15
metres
up
the
trail.
B
B
There
was
no
sound
at
all,
none
or
none
that
I
can
remember
and
in
a
way
it
seemed.
He
was
part
of
the
fog,
a
part
of
my
own
imagination,
but
there
was
also
the
reality
of
what
was
happening
in
my
stomach.
I
had
already
pulled
the
pin
on
a
grenade
when
we
come
up
to
a
crouch,
it
was
entirely
automatic,
I
didn't
hate.
The
young
man,
I
didn't
see
him
as
the
enemy.
I
didn't
ponder
issues
of
patriotism,
military
duty,
I,
crouched
and
kept
my
head
down.
I
tried
to
swallow.
B
There
were
no
thoughts
about
killing.
The
grenade
was
to
make
him
go
away.
Just
evaporate
and
I
leaned
back
and
I
felt
my
head
go
empty
and
then
felt
it
fill
up
again.
I
had
already
thrown
the
grenade
before
thinking,
throwing
it
was
gone.
The
brush
was
thick
and
I
had
to
lob
it
high,
not
aiming
and
I.
Remember
that
grenade
seeming
to
freeze
above
me
for
just
an
instant
as
if
a
camera
had
clicked
and
I
remember,
ducking
down
holding
my
breath
and
seeing
little
wisps
of
fog
rise
from
the
earth.
B
B
B
B
Later
I
remember,
kiowa
tried
to
tell
me
that
the
man
would
have
died
anyway.
He
told
me
that
was
a
good
kill.
He
told
me:
I
was
a
soldier,
this
was
a
war
and
that
I
should
shape
up
and
stop
staring
and
ask
myself
with
a
dead
man
would
have
done
if
things
were
reversed,
but
you
see
none
of
that
mattered.
The
words
were
way
too
complicated.
B
B
B
It's
a
story
in
which
statistics
are
at
least
for
a
moment
pushed
aside
in
favor
of
looking
at
just
one
small
human
death,
in
this
case
the
death
of
an
enemy
soldier,
but
it
could
just
as
well
be
a
death
of
one
of
my
friends.
Death
is
death.
It's
the
central
and
abiding
certainty
of
war.
It's
what
what
what
wars
are
for
there
to
kill
people,
it's
the
ultimate
reality,
the
kind
of
sanctioned
homicide.
B
So
it's
the
story
in
which
a
single
death
is
lingered
over
for
a
while
and
magnified
and
not
just
summarized
by
the
way
of
kind
of
you
know
the
statistics
we
hear.
Secondly,
I
selected
this
chapter,
largely
because
it's
made
up
it's
not
true,
no
Kathleen,
as
I
mentioned
earlier,
I
have
no
daughter,
but
on
top
of
that
no
hand
grenade,
no
Kiowa,
no
trail
junction.
No
morning
fog,
no
star-shaped
hole
all
those
details
like
all
the
details,
not
just
those
are
the
product
of
a
novelists
imagination
and
yet
in
a
much
more
important
way.
B
That
was
my
time
in
Vietnam
and
it's
something
you
might
see
and
smell
and
feel
the
taste
of
lemonade
in
your
throat
that
fruity
sour
taste
of
imminent
death.
So
way
of
collapsing,
my
own
thoughts
years,
afterward,
looking
back
on
those
long
nights
into
a
single
single
event,
in
the
hope
that
you
might
feel
as
you
listen
to
that
little
story,
something
of
what
I
felt
for
decades
ago,
but
also
something
of
what
soldiers
this
moment
are
feeling
around
this
globe
of
ours.
The
same
kinds
of
emotions.
B
It
was
somewhere
in
July,
69,
yeah
or
my
company
was
encamped
on
a
some
nameless
hill
in
Quang
Ngai
province
in
Vietnam
and
at
about
2:00.
In
the
morning
my
company
commander,
hats
out
his
lieutenants
to
wake
us
all
up
a
whole
company
of
us
about
a
hundred
one
hundred
and
five
hundred
and
ten
men
in
the
middle
of
night.
We
all
saddled
up,
we
put
on
our
you,
know,
ruck,
sacks
and
grabbed
our
weapons
and
ammo
and
rations,
and
all
this
so
we
began
walking
through
the
vietnam
dark.
B
We
had
no
idea
where
we
were
going
or
why
we
were
going
where
we
were
going
all
we
were
news
that
we
were
going.
We
were
told
it
was
an
ambush
which
is
a
strange
word
for
a
company
operation.
Those
of
you
who
are
in
the
military
know
that
most
ambushes
are
done
by
squad
sized
two
platoon
sized
elements
not
by
whole
companies.
B
So
we
kind
of
talked
about
this.
What
is
what
kind
of
operation
is
this
week
linked
Iran
to
the
dark?
You
know
these
were
young
and
stupid,
and
you
know
canteens
rattling
and
cigarettes
lighting
up
in
the
dark
way.
Stupid
soldiers
do
and
have
done
since
the
days
of
home
we
arrived
around
for
the
morning
at
a
nameless
Vietnamese
village,
a
place
I
didn't
know
the
name
of
it
then
I
still
doubt.
The
idea
of
this
operation
was
that
our
company
would
surround
the
place.
B
The
final
platoon,
the
fourth
platoon,
my
own,
was
lined
up
along
a
paddy
dike
outside
the
village,
and
the
idea
was
to
press
the
Vietcong
out
of
the
village
in
Indo,
walk
into
a
rice
paddy,
where
we
just
gunned
them
down
these
operations,
never
worked.
There
I
mean
there's,
look.
They
looked
too
beautiful
on
paper
to
ever
actually
work
in
reality,
partly
because
of
who
we
were,
as
I
saw,
that
you
know
lighting
cigarettes
and
making
noise
and
guys
farting
in
the
dark
and
all
kinds
of
horseplay
going
on
yakking
about
their
hometowns
and
they're.
B
Very
practical,
petty
reasons.
These
things
didn't
work
and
then,
for
higher
reasons
to,
for
example,
the
people
that
did
intelligence
were
just
the
opposite,
they
ought
to
be
doing
like
governments
ought
to
be
there,
they
didn't
know
where
any
of
the
Vietcong
ever
were.
They
had
no
idea
if
they
say
the
Vietcong.
Aren't
there
that's
where
they
were
so
you
sort
of
with
the
opposite
way
and
I'm,
not
much
exaggerating.
Those
of
you
who've
know
how
bad
the
intelligence
was
in.
Vietnam
know
what
I'm
talking
about
on
the
ground
level.
B
In
any
case,
these
things
just
didn't
work.
This
one
did
for
reasons
I'm,
not
quite
sure
it
was
our
only
successful
ambush
in
a
way
it
worked
at
about
dawn.
I,
remember,
I
was
among
the
people
lined
up
along
this
patty
dike
and
about
dawn.
The
three
platoons
swept
through
the
village
and
I
can
remember
the
purple
kind
of
pre
light.
Light
right
before
dawn
has
actually
come
up
at
the
sky
to
a
little
sliver
of
light
across
it
kind
of
purply
collared
and,
as
I
was
looking
to
this
little
sliver
of
purple
light.
B
Three
figures
came
out
of
the
village
from
my
right
to
left,
and
this
year
the
rice
paddy
out.
Here
they
were
plainly
Viet
Cong
soldiers,
that
is
to
say
they
had
weapons
and
they
were
they
were
the
enemy
and
I
was
a
stunning.
It
was
my
first
and
only
in
one
other
occasion
that
I
ever
see
the
living
enemy
in
Vietnam
I
shot
at
all
the
time,
and
but
it
was
always
chaotic
and
confusion,
or
you
know,
bamboo
and
banana
trees
and
hedges
and
I
just
didn't
see
the
enemy.
B
Maybe
because
I
was
ducking
all
the
times,
probably
why
I
did
not
want
to
look
and
I
would
tend
to
show
it
to
him
to
fight
my
war
of
my
head
down
and
my
rifle
going
like
this
and
full-automatic
just
to
kind
of
make
them
all
go
away,
but
any
case
there
were
three
figures,
clearly
distinguishable
as
the
enemy
as
far
away
as
I.
Don't
know
the
sixth
row
here
not
very
far
away:
15
meters,
20
meters,
something
like
that
and
there
were
about
25
of
us
lined
up
on
this
paddy
dike.
B
We
all
opened
up
on
everything
we
had.
We
had
one
m60
machine
gun
and
we
had
a
bunch
of
you
know
rifles.
We
had
m79
grenade
launchers.
We
had
three
claymores
set
up
out
in
front
of
us
everything
we
had.
We
just
blasted
at
these
three
guys
15
yards
away
or
15
meters
away
about
20
minutes
later,
when
full
light
had
come
up.
We
went
out
to
the
paddy
and
we
found
one
dead,
Viet
Cong
soldier.
B
He
was
really
dead,
I
mean
he
was
deader
than
dead
guess
he
was
just
smashed.
However,
the
other
two
not
a
sign
of
them.
What
does
that
tell
you
about
our
aim,
for
example,
I
mean
mm.
If
I
tell
you
about
fear
and
chaos
and
darkness
and
I,
don't
know,
I
didn't
aim
and
I
doubt
any
of
my
fellow
soldiers
dead.
My
buddies
I
did
not
like
this,
like
the
character
in
the
story.
I
read
to
you,
I
did
not
look
at
that
body.
B
I
had
by
that
point
in
my
tour
I've
seen
more
than
enough
corpses
to
last
me
to
Eternity
I
didn't
want
to
look
it
anymore.
I
did
not
stare
at
that
body.
I
would
look
at
bodies
by
that
point.
In
my
tour
just
obliquely
out
of
the
corner
of
my
eye,
the
way
you
might
look
at
a
squirrel
dead
along
the
pavement,
as
you
walk
by
you,
don't
want
to
confront
the
ugliness
and
the
nastiness
and
the
death
of
it
and
I
was
pretty
much
that
way
by
that
point.
B
He
was
no
longer
the
enemy
and
that,
if
anybody's
been
in
combat
knows
it
was
there's
a
dead
sixteen-year-old
kid
lying
there.
The
word
enemy
is
utterly
inappropriate.
That
could
be
you
just
as
easily
and
I
probably
had
much
more
in
common
with
that
dead
kid
than
I
had
with
anybody.
You
know
in
the
Kiwanis
Club
in
my
hometown,
but
at
the
Country
Club
or
you
know
in
the
Baptist
Church
and
a
lot
more.
We
just
shared
of
experience
of
horror
and
of
probably
even
cynicism
and
bitterness.
I.
B
B
Maybe
maybe
not.
However,
in
a
story
I'd
like
the
real
world,
I
can
assume
responsibility.
I
was
there.
I
was
a
soldier
pulled
the
trigger
and
to
say
that
I'm
not
responsible-
and
I
don't
know
if
I'm
responsible-
is
an
absolute
and
utter
cop-out.
I
am
responsible,
just
like
the
guy
in
Dubuque
is
responsible
for
forgetting
to
vote
earlier
in
November
he's
responsible
too,
and
in
a
story
I
can
take
responsibility.
They
can
confront
my
own
complicity
in
that
particular
horror.
B
Beyond
that,
in
a
story,
I
can
help
make
myself
feel
again
in
a
way
that
I
found
I
couldn't
feel
for
all
those
years
after
the
war,
like
so
many
of
my
brothers,
not
just
a
Vietnam
that
mother's
I
encounter
now
coming
home
from
Iraq
and
Afghanistan
that
deadness
inside
you
that
up
that
inability
to
look
at
what
you've
just
gone
through
to
in
front
it
to
stare
at
it.
Even
in
your
dreams,
you
jerk
awake
at
night
trying
to
get
away
from
it
in
a
story.
B
I
can
look
at
things
that
I
couldn't
look
at
for
all
those
years.
My
own
history,
my
own
past,
granted
the
details
in
ambush
are
all
invented,
it's
fiction,
but
the
story
is
true
to
my
own
nightmares.
My
own
memory
and
my
own
emotions
all
these
years
later,
like
that
character
in
the
story,
I
can
be
sitting
around
all
by
myself
in
a
room
just
reading
the
paper,
or
you
know,
practicing
a
little
chess
move
and
suddenly
I'm
out
of
that
paper
and
the
young
man
is
coming
out
of
that
village.
B
Another
reason
I'm
almost
done
here.
Another
reason
I
wanted
to
focus
on
this
story.
Is
it
dresses
some
of
these
questions
of
truth
that
you
I'm
sure
the
readers
ask
yourself
about
the
book?
What's
what's
true,
what
really
happened
and
what
didn't
I'm,
not
quite
sure
why
you
care,
but
I
guess
you
do
for
I
mean
at
least
people
in
colleges
and
high
schools.
They
really
take
seem
to
take
the
literal.
Really.
B
It
really
means
a
lot,
but
what
they
don't
know
and
at
that
age
they're
going
to
die-
and
you
know
a
thousand
years-
are
going
to
pass
and
everything
that
we
care
about.
Did
it
happen
or
not
just
just
erased
by
history.
It's
just
all
gone
Vietnam
will
end
up
a
little
footnote.
If
that
you
know
a
thousand
fifteen
hundred
years.
What
do
we
know
about
the
Battle
of
Hastings?
Almost
nothing?
What
do
we
know
about
that?
Well,
the
Trojan
Wars.
We
have
some
archaeology
and
we
have
Homer
and
that's
it
nothing
else.
B
B
What
is
what's
true
and
what's
not,
and
what
the
book
is
partly
aimed
at
doing
is
trying
to
undermine
this
common
sense,
black
and
white
notion
of
what
truth
is
through
a
firm
grasp
of,
what's
true
and
what's
false
is
elusive
to
a
21
year
old
kids,
squatting
in
a
rice
paddy
in
Vietnam.
Is
it
true,
as
your
minister
said,
back
in
Worthington
Minnesota,
thou
shalt
not
kill
that
true.
When
your
first
sergeant
is
saying,
you'd,
better
kill
or
I'll
court-martial
your
ass
who's
telling
the
truth.
They
can't
both
be
telling
the
truth.
B
The
answer
is
I,
don't
know
it's
a
mystery
to
me,
Americans
in
particular,
but
maybe
all
of
us
in
general,
as
human
beings
tend
to
think
of
the
truths
of
these
fixed,
absolute
things,
but
truths
are
not
I
could
I
mean
truths
can
vary
by
where
you
are
I
could
say
to
you
now:
it's
you
know.
What
time
is
it
it's
quarter
to
eight
it's
true
in
Virginia,
but
it's
not
true
in
LA
or
on
Neptune.
Is
it
so?
What's
through
here,
ain't
true
there
and
throughs
also
change
they
get
their
fluid
and
they
evolve.
B
What's
true
in
the
year
1964,
when
you
declare
to
yourself
I
love,
Sally
may
not
be
true
in
1965
I
love.
You
know
Jenna,
which
may
not
be
true
in
1966,
we've
all
undergone
that
evolution
of
what
seems
Fitz
truth.
They
evolve
and
they
change,
and
that
process
is
hyped
up
and
exaggerated
and
revved
up
when
you're
in
a
situation
of
life
or
death.
B
The
book
is
meant
to
make
you
wonder
and
question
in
yourself
what
what
is
it
that
I
that
I
can
hold
on
to
firmly
as
being
true
and
absolutely
indelibly
and
forever
true,
another
reason
that
I
wrote
the
book
is
I
did
and
I'm
almost.
This
is
the
last
thing
I'm
going
to
say
before.
Taking
your
questions
is
that
I
am
especially
skeptical
having
returned
from
a
place
like
Vietnam
of
truth
with
a
capital
T.
B
It
scares
me
those
fanatical
self-righteous,
zealous,
I'm
right
and
you're
wrong
declarations
of
what's
true
and
what's
right
and
wrong
that
you
hear
from
the
pulpit
and
you
hear
on
CNN
and
rode
the
Fox
channel
until
it
drives
me,
I
want
to
I
want
to
wonderful.
So
how
do
you
know
so
with
such
absolutely
of
absolutism?
What's
true
or
not,
Muhammad
odda,
the
guy
who
flew
one
of
those
airplanes
into
the
World
Trade
Center.
He
thought
he
knew
the
truth.
Truth
worth
killing
for
dying
for
and
I.
B
Don't
want
us
to
turn
into
that
that
fanatical
zealous,
I'm
right,
you're,
wrong
black
or
white,
self-righteous
pious
holier-than-thou,
a
sense
of
I
know
when
you
don't
what
the
truth
is.
Have
you
gone
through
a
thing
like
Vietnam
and
also
like
a
thing
like
being
a
parent
I?
Think
it's
more
important
to
have
have
a
little
humility
and
the
baby
you
used
the
words
I
think
here
maybe
could
be,
but
not
that
kind
of
at
that
shrill
strident
that
those
full
strident
declarations
of
truth.
The
book
is
aimed
pretty
directly
at
that.
B
D
B
What
a
great
well
I
thought
I'd
heard
everyday
I'm
question
that
existed,
I,
don't
know,
I
I
would
assume.
So
you
know
one
thing
about
when
you.
Your
question
is
really
interesting
to
me,
because
we
as
soldiers
on
one
side
of
a
thing
view
the
enemy
somehow
less
than
wholly
human,
not
capable
that
is
of
getting
having
post-traumatic
stress
syndrome.
B
The
rhetoric
of
anybody
who's
been
in
the
army
of
basic
training
and
AIT
is
to
dehumanize
the
enemy,
so
that
they're,
not
even
really
people
they're
gooks,
Dinks,
laughs,
Jerry's
Japs,
whatever
the
word,
maybe
that
kind
of
races
talk
and
poorly.
That's,
why
I
wrote
that
story?
I,
just
read
that
that
kid
lying
dead
out
in
that
rice,
paddy
was
a
human
being
and
in
another
chapter
I
gave
him
a
whole
history
and
invented
history.
B
It
was
largely
my
own
I
just
gave
it
to
the
dead
kid
enemy
soldier,
but
my
my
humanity
tells
me
that
one
cannot
go
through
the
taking
of
human
life
and
watching
your
fellow
soldiers
die
on
your
side
without
suffering,
something
that
it
seems
to
me
that
that
post-traumatic
stress
syndrome
is
a
given.
When
you
go
to
war,
the
Veterans
Administration
I
mean,
if
you
do,
if
you
go
into
a
doctor's
office
and
you're
smoking,
they're
going
to
tell
you
to
stop
smoking.
B
Do
you
know
if
it's
preventive
medicine,
that's
what
the
VA
should
be
doing?
It's
the
only
way
to
cure
Pete,
you
know
post-traumatic
stress
syndrome
is
combat
related
is
to
stop
war,
because
as
long
as
you
have
it
you're
going
to
have
you
be
crazy
if
you
weren't
crazy,
when
you
came
home
from
a
thing
like
that,
you'd
be
lots
not
to
be
suffering
not
to
want
to
have
a
drink
or
two
not
to
want
to
smoke.
Some
dope
you'd
be
crazy
to
get
along
happily
with
everybody
just
like
that.
B
No
Deana
book
called
the
enemy
all
throughout
the
country,
and
what
struck
me
was
there
were
human
beings
with
senses
of
humor
and
jokes
about
how
small
they
were
and
that's
why
we
couldn't
hit
them
and
mean
that
all
that
it
was
just
they
were
human,
so
I'm
sure
that
that
that
members
of
the
Taliban
and
of
al-qaeda,
a
calf
calf
got
to
have
their
own
suffering.
You
have
to
it's
hard
to
think
of
it.
B
This
way
you
got
to
turn
your
mind
upside
down,
but
it's
a
good
thing
to
bear
in
mind
that
one
man's
terrorist
is
another
man's
freedom
fighter.
You
may
not
like
it.
You
may
totally
disagree,
but
that's
their
opinion
and
it's
unreal
like
putting
your
head
in
the
sand
to
think
otherwise,
and
we
may
think
oh
yeah,
we
debate
it,
but
that's
you're
not
going
to
erase
what
people
feel
about
there.
B
Why
they're
going
to
war
the
same
with
any
enemy
we
may
have,
and
this
demonization
of
enemies
has
pursued
me
for
40
years
now,
because
I
too
am
guilty
of
it.
My
time
in
Vietnam
was
I
learned
to
just
despise
anything
that
moved
in
that
country
man-beast
tree,
but
moved
I
hated
it
because
I
could
never
find
the
enemy
I
needed.
There's
no
uniforms,
no
up
no
down
in
front
no
rear.
B
They
found
us,
but
on
only
very
very
rare
occasions,
did
we
ever
you
know
truly
find
them.
The
story.
I
just
told
you
about
was
one
of
those
occasions.
I
forgot
to
tell
you
the
end
of
that
story.
This
is
our
successful
ambush.
An
hour
later,
my
best
friend
it
kept
a
kid
from
Orlando
Florida.
His
real
name
is
Alvin
Marik's.
You
can
find
him
on
the
wall.
Is
we
thought
we
called
him?
Chip
I
didn't
even
know
his
real
first
name
until
he
died.
He
was
in
the
same
village
over
here.
B
It
stepped
on
a
movie
trapped
either
mortar
round
or
artillery
around
we're,
not
sure-
and
it
blew
him
into
this
tree.
That
is,
you
know
so
dead
you'd
never
know
he
was
once
black.
He
was
just
yellow
and
red.
That's
our
most
successful
ambush,
my
best
friend
being
blown
into
trillion
pieces
into
a
tree
in
that
country.
That
was
our
best
one.
Imagine
what
the
bad
ones
are
like.
F
Yes,
I
appreciate
your
your
remarks
about
being
able
to
talk
about
or
being
able
write
the
truth
as
you
write
fiction
and
that
stories
can
be
true.
Although
they're
not
there
are
products
of
imagination,
right,
I,
think
when
we
read
The
Things
They
Carried,
we
read
that
Tim
O'brien
was
a
soldier
in
Vietnam
and
maybe
we
wonder-
and
maybe
we
don't
about
whether
you're
writing
right
your
experiences
or
not,
but
we
know
we
know
you're
there,
you
were
there
and
I'm
wondering
whether
you
think
that
you
reach
a
truth.
F
B
Think
it
would
be
a
different
kind
of
truth.
That
message
is
just
totally
fascinating.
Quite
got
the
right
audience
tonight,
because
they're
new
questions
that
I
really
haven't
encountered.
It
would
be
a
different
kind
of
truth.
If
I,
for
example,
were
a
Stephen
Crane
who
never
been
keen
on
the
Civil
War,
he
would
write
his
own
kind
of
book.
It
would
be
based
on
an
emotional
things.
I
brought
to
the
material.
B
Let's
say:
I
went
to
Winnipeg
and
I
wrote
a
book
about
being
in
Vietnam,
while
I'm
living
in
Winnipeg,
whether
they
going
to
you
know,
went
to
Canada
or
went
to
jail
and
wrote
a
book
from
a
jail
cell
about
what
being
a
soldier
would
be,
would
be.
A
different
kind
of
book
could
be
informed
by
jail
or
by
Winnipeg,
and
it
would
have
a
different
taste
to
it
and
different
I'm
sure
the
content
of
the
book
would
be
different.
I
doubt
the
chapter
I
just
read
would
be
in
it
I
doubt.
B
The
sweetheart
of
the
song
jabong
story
would
be
in
that
book,
a
story
about
it.
You
know
the
girl
who
goes
over
to
Vietnam
because
it
would
have
seemed
having
not
been
there
would
have
single,
that's
impossible
and
that
what
a
silly
story
to
write,
whereas
if
you
go
through
the
upside
down
Alice
and
wonderland
world
of
Vietnam,
it
doesn't
seem
as
silly
to
me
as
it
does
to
most.
You
know:
civilian
see
how
that
could
have
happened
impossible.
So
I
think
the
content
would
have
been
different.
I
really
do.
B
On
the
other
hand,
I
got
to
say
that
I
think
had
I
not
gone
to
Vietnam
I
would
have
still
been
circling
the
Moral
terrain,
but
I
would
have
been
circling
it
from
the
perspective
of
Canada.
Let's
say
as
an
exile:
who'd
walked
away
from
his
country
and
hadn't
gone
to
the
war,
and,
although
I
wouldn't
be
writing
probably
directly
about
combat
experiences,
I'd
be
writing
about
many
of
the
same
moral
issues
you
know.
B
What's
how
do
you
decide
what
to
do
with
your
body
in
a
situation
of
moral
ambiguity,
I
love
that
and
I
love.
This
I
want
that
and
I
want
this,
but
you
can't
have
them
both
in
that
world.
I.
Think
that
moral
terrain,
which
was
the
province
of
all
of
us,
who
lived
through
that
era
of
having
to
make
our
minds
up
and
put
our
bodies
where
our
minds
are
going,
you
couldn't
do
nothing
doing,
nothing
was
doing
something
and
that
terrain
I
think
would
have
stayed
with
me.
E
Up
on
what
you
were
just
saying,
I
was
very
impressed
by
the
passage
in
the
book
where
you
described
almost,
but
not
quite
going
over
the
border
into
Canada,
and
you
spent
these
days
thinking
about
it
just
south
of
the
border
as
a
GI
who
was
a
in
the
service
about
the
same
time
you
were
that
really
got
to
me,
but
I
really
would
like
to
know
something.
Looking
back
on
this,
do
you
think
you
made
the
right
decision?
E
B
I,
don't
know
the
answer
to
that.
It's
I
have
these
two
heads
about
everything
in
the
world,
sometimes
I
think
I.
Did
there
the
right
thing,
other
things
I
think
I
made
a
cowardly
and
disastrous
and
even
catastrophic
choice
for
my
own
life.
That
and
I
go
I
lie
in
bed
at
night
and
when
I
do
think
about
Vietnam,
it's
pretty
much
that
that
I
think
about
that
choice.
It's
not
Nam
that
I!
Remember
so
much
it's
the
summer.
B
B
It
seemed
worse
than
anything,
and
yet
it
felt
like
the
right
thing
to
do
at
the
same
time
and
I
couldn't
summon
the
courage
to
get
on
that
Greyhound
or
get
in
my
car
and
head
north,
and
so
I
ended
up
in
the
war
by
a
kind
of
default.
I,
just
I
didn't
choose
to
go
really
I,
just
sort
of
let
my
body
be
taken.
B
I
showed
up
at
the
Worthington
Minnesota
bus
station
and
I
got
on
not
a
greyhound,
but
I
got
out
of
whatever
they'll
hit
a
competitor
back
then,
and
that
bus
went
yeah
that
was
at
railways,
yeah
and
the
Trailways
bus
took
me
to
Sioux
Falls
and
there
I
hold
my
hand
up,
and
you
know
in
a
like
a
sleepwalker
for
myself.
You
know
saying
you
know:
I
was
in
the
army,
but
without
I
can't
remember
choosing
to
do
that.
B
That
summer
of
you
know
where
that's
the
word
that
moral
quandary
or
debate
going
on
inside
me,
that
is
hard
to
replicate,
and
it's
impossible
to
do
it
unless
through
for
me,
through
fiction.
If
I
were
to
tell
you
the
literal
truth
of
that
summer,
all
I
would
tell
you
it'd
be
true,
but
you
I
would
bore
you
to
tears.
B
The
the
interchange
is
between
Elroy
and
the
character
and
between
that
demarcation
line
that
River
that
can
be
crossed
or
not
crossed
with
all
those
people
standing
on
each
bank
of
the
river
is
Statue
of
Liberty
and
Jane
Fonda
and
Abbie
Hoffman
and
Westmoreland
they're,
all
yelling
at
you
one
way
or
the
other.
It
felt
it.
The
whole
country
was
yelling
at
me.
You
know
do
this,
do
that
it
felt
like
there
are
cheerleaders
with
pom-pom.
You
know,
go
hanoi
and
others
on
the
other
side.
B
B
Talk
a
little
about
this,
her
name
in
the
story
is
Mary
Ann
Bell,
unlike
all
you
who
read
it,
I,
didn't
believe
a
word
of
it.
When
I
first
heard
the
story,
I
heard
it
nam
right
after
getting
in
country,
got
to
my
man
Mike,
but
they
called
my
terminal
unit,
which
is
a
scary
yeah.
We
end
up
got
a
well
among
the
I.
Remember
filling
sandbags.
The
guys
are
in
on
stand-down
is
one
of
those
few
times
they
were
back
on
the
firebase,
and
this
guy
said
yeah.
B
He
told
me
the
story
that
says:
guy
got
his
girlfriend
over
a
couple
of
years.
Earlier
said
she
was
up
in
this
tree:
bong
Special,
Forces
camp,
a
place
that
really
existed
and
I'd
look
up
at
the
mountains.
I
thought:
oh
you're,
crazy,
you're,
making
this
up
and
then
I'd
hear
it
again
and
I
hear
it
again
and
then
again
and
after
a
while
I
began
asking
myself,
why
don't
I
believe
it
and
the
only
answer
I
had
was.
B
It
was
a
woman
period
that
were
a
male
that
would
you
know
that
same
age
it'd
be?
There
were
five
hundred
thousand
of
us
just
like
her
fresh
high
schools
around
the
country.
It
was
purely
an
only
gender
that
I
didn't
believe
that
story,
but
I
still
didn't
believe
it.
I
came
back
home,
I
wrote
a
couple
of
books
and
I
was
out
in
Seattle
near
where
I
had
done
my
basic
and
AIT
doing
a
book
signing
at
a
bookstore
out.
B
There
called
Elliot
Bay
and
there
was
a
crowd
kind
of
like
this
and
I
signed
a
boatload
of
books
and
near
the
end
of
this
long
line.
I
saw
him
for
maybe
an
hour
and
a
half
a
guy
came
through
of
roughly
my
age,
and
he
said
you
know
if
you
ever
like,
he
knew
where
I'd
served
in
Vietnam
I
talked
about.
You
know
this
place
that
I
served
in
Quang
Ngai
province.
He
said:
did
you
ever
hear
the
story
of
this?
B
You
know
woman,
who
was
up
at
the
Special
Forces
camp,
that
your
bomb
camp
and
I
said
yeah
I'd
heard
it
a
lot.
I
heard
it
many
times
and
he
said
I
was
there,
it
happened.
Nobody
believes
me.
I've
talked
about
it,
for
you
know
how
I
did
they
just
laughed
me
off
as
a
tall-tale
teller,
and
he
said
it's
pissing
me
off
I.
Just
can't
believe.
Why?
Wouldn't
you
believe
it?
B
You
believe,
all
the
other
silly
you
hear
about
what
happens
in
this
country,
the
most
crazy
imaginable
stories
and
GIS
being
attacked
by
tigers
and
elephants,
dropping
on
you,
Nick,
the
Marines
and
army
guys
tell
these
stories
with
absolute
impunity
that
they
had
the
impunity
of
being
a
vet.
They
can
say
any
damn
thing
they
want.
They
won't
believe
me
about
to
say
that
really
was
true.
She
was
there
and
I
said:
let's
go
have
a
cup
of
coffee
after
this
was
over
and
we
ended
up
not
having
a
coffee.
B
We
had
a
couple
of
drinks
together
and
he
really
couldn't
let
it
go
I
kind
of
want
to
move
on
to
other
topics,
but
he
will-he
one
dust.
He
was
just
so
wanted
me
to
believe
him.
The
way
that
I
used
rat,
the
rat,
kiley
character
and
the
story
just
rat
was
just
desperate
to
please
believe
me.
You've
seen
all
this
other
stuff
happening,
or
why
don't
you
believe
this
and
he'd
say
things
like?
B
What's
to
stop
her
I
mean
you
can
buy
a
plane
ticket
and
Cleveland
and
you
can
fly
to
LA
and
nobody
is
that's
not
improbable,
and
if
you
get
to
LA,
you
can
buy
another
plane
ticket
to
go
to
Bangkok.
Nobody
will
stop
you,
it's
totally
legal.
You
get
to
Bangkok.
You
can
fly
any
civilian
from
Bangkok
to
fly
into
Saigon
back
and
though
days
you
didn't
need
to
even
I,
don't
think
even
have
a
passport.
B
You
just
did
it
and
if
you
couldn't
fly
there
plenty
of
surreptitious
ways
it
getting
into
that
place
and
once
you're
in
Saigon
and
your
18
year
old,
cheerleader
I
mean
you've,
got
five
hundred
thousand
guys.
Take
it
anywhere.
You
want
to
go
in
country.
All
you
got
to
say
is
please
and
you're
gone.
So
it's
not
logistically
illogical.
There's,
nothing
illogical
about
it.
On
top
of
that,
I
began
thinking
that,
as
this
is
before
I
began.
Writing
the
story.
I
began
thinking
that
you
know
a
lot
of
women
served
in
Vietnam.
B
There's
a
statue
out
in
the
mall
to
them
here
and
sure
you
know
that
right
and
there
were
not
just
nurses,
but
there
were
I've
running
down
how
many
we
call
them
donut
dollies
back
in
Nam.
They
visit
fire
bases
and
give
you
kool-aid
and
kind
of
airs
on
sex.
They
sort
of
wiggle
their
butts
a
little
bit
and
you'd
have
to
take
that
or
until
you
got
home
hey
what
else
I
mean
there
were
there
were.
You
know
women
working
for
contractors.
B
There
were
journalists,
and
then
I
began
thinking
of
a
special
woman
whom
I
met
in
my
life,
who
had
spent
a
year,
her
name's
Lady,
Borton,
I.
Think
probably
in
this
library
there's
a
book
that
she
wrote
called
after
sorrow.
This
is
to
prove
her
existence
to
you.
Could
you
I'm,
like
this
guy
now,
like
I?
Don't
think
anybody's
gonna
believe
this
I've
turned
into
this
guy,
but
you
can
go
in
that
card.
Catalog
I'll
bet
you
and
find
her.
She
lived
in
a
place
called
clang
nice
city,
which
is
was
not
a
city.
B
It
was
a
little
town,
little
dirty,
filthy
town,
right
near
where
the
meal
I'm
at
massacre
happened,
maybe
eight
miles
away
seven
miles
not
very
far.
It
was
a
place
where
we
American
soldiers
a
whole.
You
know
company
of
his
armed
to
the
teeth.
We
were
afraid
of
this
place.
It
was
scary
and
dangerous
place
that
town
was
just
littered
with
landmines
of
all
sorts
all
around
the
town
you
didn't
want.
You
didn't
want
to
go
there.
She
lived
there
for
a
year
all
by
herself
as
a
Quaker
helper
of
refugees.
B
B
G
B
Was
doing
the
opposite
of
what
I
was
doing?
He
was
billing
his
work
as
nonfiction,
even
though
it
was
fiction,
I'm,
doing
I'm,
calling
mine
fiction
and
not
nonfiction.
There
are
totally
different
enterprises.
I
myself
license
when
I
write
it's
fiction.
I
give
myself
license
to
do
any
damn
thing.
I
want
to
do.
I
can
make
up
the
most
crazy
story
and
I
it's
fiction.
B
What
hurt
me
was
I
heard
him
on
TV,
citing
the
things
they
carried
as
a
source
for
what
he
was
doing
and
that
got
to
me
that
he
was
relying
on
something
he
I,
don't
think.
You've
understood
the
difference
between
I'm
going
to
tell
you
make-believe
or
I'm,
going
to
tell
you
the
truth,
and
there
are
two
different
enterprises.
If
I
were
to
announce
for
you,
this
is
nonfiction
I'd,
better,
deliver
nonfiction
as
best
I
can,
as
problematical
as
that
is
I
mean
writing.
Nonfiction
is
a
hard
thing.
B
I
learned
that
at
the
post
over
you
know
two
years
working
the
Washington
Post
that
yet
you
don't
try
to
lie,
but
every
reporter
knows
what
happened.
You
go
out
on
a
story.
You
come
back.
The
editor
says,
give
me
15,
column
inches
and
you
deliver
fifteen
column
inches
of
truth.
However,
you
toss
out
that
truth.
This
truth,
that
quote,
that
observation
they
all
go
to
hit
the
15
inches,
so
you
get
15
inches
of
truth.
Is
that
the
truth
I
mean
or
18
or
whatever
the
number
is,
and
it's
not
just
true
of
reporters.
B
It's
true
of
textbook
writers,
I
mean
how
do
you
write
a
history
of
World
War?
Two,
that's
wholly
true
that
wholly
incorporates
everything
you
can't
put
every
thought
of
every
soldier
and
both
on
all
the
sides
of
that
war
into
that
book.
You're,
selective
and
you
organize,
and
you
throw
most
of
the
stuff
out,
even
though
it's
true
that
whole
principle
of
selectivity
when
you're
writing
nonfiction,
it
seems
almost
anti-truth.
It's
can't
be
wholly
true.
B
If
it's
not
wholly
true,
is
it
a
half
truth
as
we
called
it
in
Minnesota
when
I
was
growing
up
or
is
it
a
millionth
truth?
Well,
I,
don't
know
the
answer
to
that.
I
do
know.
There's
a
there
are
many
problems
associated
with
writing
nonfiction
because
I
experienced
them.
In
writing.
My
first
book
I
was
tried
to
write
a
memoir
that
was
faithful
to
what
I
went
through
and
I
did.
However,
I
knew
I
was
leaving
stuff
out
and
I
knew.
B
My
memory
was
faulty
and
even
if
my
memory
had
been
great
I
still
couldn't
remember
all
dialogue
that
was
spoken
around
me.
The
exact
words
coming
out
of
that
soldiers,
mouth
of
that
and
so
I
find
myself
inventing,
not
not
out
of
whole
cloth,
but
out
of
partial
cloth.
I.
Remember
the
tone
of
what
somebody
said
and
so
I
try
to
capture
the
tone.
Through
my
you
know,
invention
the
way
almost
virtually
every
nonfiction
writer
is
going
to
do.
When
you
go
to
write
a
memoir.
B
Unless
you've
got
a
tape
recorder
running
all
through
Nam,
then
you
got
a
battery
problem
and
you've
got
all
you've
got
all
kinds
of
here.
How
do
you
hold
the
microphone
like
interview,
the
VC
before
you
have
your
firefight?
It's
really
hard!
So
I
look
I
quickly,
moved
from
from
the
the
Frye
world
to
the
world
of
where
I
felt
a
permissiveness
or
a
license
to
invent
in
the
in
the
service
of
truth.
B
F
B
I
think
so
I
mean
truth.
Courage
for
me
is
for
me
the
greatest
act
of
courage.
I
showed
in
Vietnam
was
simply
to
keep
humping
and
it
sounds
stupid
and
trivial,
but
to
keep
your
legs
moving
when
every
cell
in
my
body
was
I,
want
to
quit.
I
want
to
drop
I,
don't
want
to
do
this
anymore,
every
cells,
it
don't
do
it
anymore
and
I
could
have
all
you
have
to
do
is
fall
and
what
do
they?
They
can't
stop
you
from
falling
and
what
are
they
going
to
do
to
you?
B
B
So
just
the
endless
march
through
the
paddies
and
through
the
mean
little
Vil's
and
up
into
the
mountains
and
down
and
around
the
paddies,
and
you
just
keep
moving
like
a
mule
or
a
donkey
just
trudging
on
bearing
all
that
weight.
It
felt
like
man,
I
am
doing
something
brave
with
every
breath.
I'd
suck
at
and
I
wouldn't
fall
and
keep
going
forward.
I
know
it
doesn't
sound
like
much,
but
any
I
think
it's
the
reason
behind
a
combat
soldier
is
sold,
treasuring
and
valuing
the
CIB.
B
You
know
in
that
jail
and
all
of
us,
the
guys
from
West
Point
to
the
you
know
them
poor
guy.
Out
of
you
know,
Harlem.
We
all
felt
that
impulse
of
men
III
don't
want
to
die
in
this
mean
godforsaken
spot
on
the
planet,
the
matter
how
gung-ho
these
guys
were
when
they
showed
up.
My
CEO
was
a
graduate
of
all
places
of
Annapolis
and
my
company
commander,
who
transferred
to
the
army
afterward
Dunmore
and
even
he
a
pretty
gung-ho.
B
B
Don't
trying
to
get
words
out
of
stone
and
you
don't
know
a
language
and
screaming
at
that
guy,
you've,
ECU
VC
and
you
multiply
that
by
you
know
80
times
a
day,
and
then
you
multiply
that
by
all
the
infantry
platoons
and
companies
operating
in
that
country,
and
you
get
that
matrix
of
sin
and
of
evil
which
is
war.
That's
so
hard
to
commute
Kate.
You
can
communicate
battles
and
you
can
communicate
deaths.
But
you
can't
it's
hard
to
communicate
that
cobwebby
feeling
of
moment-by-moment.