Reflections from Bashir

I was still thinking a day after Waltz with Bashir, not just about the powerful scenes but some of the memories it evoked for me as well so I decided it might be worth blogging about.

I keep think back to the scene where the IDF soldiers are shooting flares over the refugee camp and the “modern” conversation that overlaps with that imagery. The friend describes to Folman that the guilt he feels is because he had been like a Nazi, supporting atrocities he knew were happening. I don't think it was clarified if that was due to his fear of speaking out, faith in his superiors or just an apathy brought on by so much conflict. Regardless, that conversion reminded me of a few moments in my own military service and brought back memories I had not called to mind in a little while. Several other scenes had some similarities as well.

The full details surrounding this time in my life would be far too long even for a blog. It would have to be a memoir of it's own. After editing this its still a long build up but I think important to the memory.

I joined the Military at 16, shipped out at 17 and had my 18^th birthday in Basic Training. This was while Desert Storm was wrapping up back in 1992. I remember when I was at the MEPPS station in Milwaukee they offered me a position as a Software Analyst on military programs. An easy 6 figure job when I got out and the cutting edge of training and experience. Personal Computers were about to take off in the civilian sector and the top stuff was definitely in the military. I turned it down anyways to go into the Artillery.

I felt that if I was going to serve I should go into a combat position. It reminded me of the one man in Bashir who said he wanted to prove he was not a weakling. I had never had a complex based around my size but at that young age I think I did feel a need to prove I was a “man” now not a boy.

Anyways with the conflict dying down in Iraq/Kuwait I was stationed stateside at first. I had a bright career, winning honors and medals and all that but where things come back into alignment with the movie was when I was sent for my final duty station in South Korea. Things were still pretty tense there back then. We were having a nuclear standoff again but this time about their nuclear reactors, a U.S. Helicopter was downed across the DMZ and other issues.

So the two Koreas were making a lot of shows of force, tank battalions rushing at the borders and stopping a few hundred meters short, mostly just to check the other sides reaction for instance. That means my unit was often on ready alert where we might hear sirens at 4 AM, rush to our vehicles and hold ready on initial targets for a few days. We would sometimes rotate limited sleep cycles etc until things were called off just so none was ever further then an arms length from the control panel and firing switches.

My unit was the deep strike brigade for MLRS. We used mobile, armored missile launchers that looked a bit like a tank but can each send out enough missiles to destroy a couple of square kilometers in about a minute's time, reload and be firing again in under 5 minutes with an elite crew.

Our purpose was to provide initial counter fire and then with tank support penetrate the border and destroy all the North Korean airfields and artillery units. After we would fall back to provide support, killing less valuable infantry targets. In tactical drills moving through the mountains it took around 3-4 days for the 36, three man crews to strike an entire country. We would operate independently each vehicle working out of a several mile zone for safety until we rejoined to move for deeper targets.

The firepower was amazing and slightly frightening and operated by such a small team. You felt personally responsible and in charge of so much. I digress but its like the man in the tank said, you feel invincible in a tank. Casually driving over a car or knocking down a building seems almost logical to people too used to using such power. When you train to kill tens of thousands in a day, how hard is it to remember the value of a single life?

So I loved Korea, met a lot of great people. I even fell in love with someone for the first time, a local woman. I saw the sights, got to be friends with local shop and club owners. I had started to learn the language and was teaching it to soldiers in my unit. I saw some relations between our base and the nearby village change as the soldiers I worked with started to appreciate more then just the bars, brothels and black market shops outside the gate and looked further at the culture.

I say all this to set the stage for the memory that bothered me so much from Waltzing with Bashir.

I didn't feel like a monster and did nice things most of the time. I used to buy food at a restaurant to give to a few stray dogs. I remember donating to a local orphanage and took hiking trips to see the burial rites of some of the locals. A friend of mine from a local bar was the daughter of the shaman from her village in the mountains and taught me many things. So I learned about people and myself and war all at the same time it seems.

There I was this happy, well adjusted young man with a very serious duty. I eventually was promoted to our Operations Sergeant which doubles as the Battery commanders driver. I no longer drove my own weapon system but was the primary aid to the man who led all of the teams in our part of the larger unit. I had found the hours long, the stress high and the rewards limited but I loved it anyways. It was the old work hard party hard mentality. I think in some ways it must be like an old time sailor coming back to port. If I wasn't out on Recon with our commander I was rushing to handle training exercises for the unit, clearing land use with the Korea government etc. I was partying or site seeing as long as I could get a pass to be beyond range or the alert sirens. It was a weird mix of two jobs shoved into one but we lacked the resources for full staffing of noncombat roles.

One evening at the end of winter I believe, we were conducting field exercises in a place known as Chor'won Valley and I was helping to patrol the perimeter of our headquarters camp. I saw this old man walking around with what seemed like his 3 grandsons. They were probably 6,9, and 11 years old if I had to guess. This man seemed rather “simple” he had a cane to walk with, his one eye just sat limply in the same spot and he ignored the soldiers yelling warnings to stay away. He just kept wandering aimlessly around the edge of the camp, throwing stones which the children would race to find. He just seemed a little confused or somehow unaware of the concertina wire and guard positions he wandered in a circle around. That part of the country near the Militarized border always has soldiers and equipment about and I think some people stopped seeing it after a while, just living their lives as if it didn't exist. Like the dancing in the clubs from the movie. Still when I yelled “Jong Jee!” or stop to him, his head snapped up and his good eye focused in a way that made me think he had been faking everything else. It stood out and made me take notice of his path in his apparent wandering. I warned our commander about my suspicions and that night guards scared off 2 kids trying to sneak into the camp.

It's too long to bother covering fully but there had been a lot of North Korean efforts to get a hold of US military equipment for infiltration. They wanted uniforms more than rifles and night vision equipment was a huge target as well. We were always on guard for such attempts and would be punished if they succeeded. I remember Charlie Battery effectively mowing the side of a mountain for a month to try to find a stolen pair of night vision goggles everyone knew was no longer there. Lessons in training were harsh so mistakes would not happen in combat.

I didn't think much of that event until a couple of months later when we were operating 20-30 miles away. It was this awful storming night and the hill top the various unit commanders were meeting on had the road to it all but washed away. We were far inland but it was during the Monsoon season now. I was desperate to grab some sleep while the officers held their meeting but a friend of mine came over to tell me about the kids they had caught sneaking into the Colonel's tent earlier that night.

I went over to where they were being held while he told me the story. Turns out the MP's had been called on the radio and were coming out to deliver the thieves to a ROK army training compound. It was a way to make sure thieves didn't come back. The US forces couldn't officially take action against a Korean citizen and the local police would usually just let them go as sympathy for the north ran strong in that area. So that made the local military the best ones to handle them. According to rumors, the base we gave thieves to ensured their soldiers were not squeamish by allowing them to practice hand to hand combat on thieves handed over.

It seemed to make sense, these were people who threatened our safety and worked for an enemy force that we spent so many days training to fight. Every time you suffered through pain, exhaustion or just missed home it was easy to think there was a reason we were there. To protect people against the enemy. The thieves certainly were the same as the North Korean soldiers since they helped them right?

So perhaps now you have guessed what I found when I saw the thieves who tried to steal a backpack and uniforms. The two older grandsons from Chor'won. I made sure to tell the people watching them that I remembered them from a previous encounter a valley away. These children were not just innocent kids on a dare or ones who tried something stupid, this was deliberate and someone had brought them out to the camp. I felt pleased I could help and didn't even think again about what that meant for those kids. I heading back to my vehicle to try to get some rest but our commander showed up shortly after, ready to head out.

I asked him if he heard about the infiltrators and he said the Colonel had mentioned it and how he had decided he was just going to let them go. They wanted to move out and the MP's had been delayed getting to our remote location. I was shocked and rushed to tell him what I remembered, how this was not their first time and how much of a mistake I thought it was to let them go. He said he understood but refused to talk to the Colonel or try to change his mind.

I had never fought or argued with Captain Kirby before that night but we had strong words and I remember for a while losing respect for him as a leader. I felt that he wasn't making a hard decision. He had received his commission out of college and didn't suffer the same hardships as the line troops. He had a hotel-like apartment not a simple billets for living quarters. He was always needed on base off and on during training exercises and didn't know what it was like to spend weeks without a shower or more then 2 hours sleep at a time. I felt like he hadn't sacrificed or didn't understand sacrificing for duty.

Later I looked back at it and realized he wasn't ignorant of the situation or soft. He had more humanity then I did I think. He remembered they were people, children even. They probably did not know the consequences of their actions or were given limited choice by their handler. Children have long been used in war to plant bombs and infiltrate for this reason. In the end they are children still, being used poorly by someone else and the crime is often not their own. I let the toll of a month long alert and field exercises push hatred and anger so deep inside me I no longer saw children going to a slaughter. I saw soldiers serving their duty and delivering the enemy to a place where they would be handled. So much like the soldiers sitting on top of the building following orders and not taking action to what they knew was happening. Lighting the flares for the evil going on in the camp. So easy when it is just distanced a step away and you don't have to confront the travesty, you just serve your duty. There were the Nazis who smashed children against the walls to save bullets and then there were those who didn't stop them.

I didn't block out that memory and have instead used it to strengthen myself I hope. I see the same thing happen in the everyday world still. When I worked for a Fortune 50 company in sales I watched people treat their customers as contacts and paydays, not as people and so they could justify any lie. I remember a manager saying it was okay because you worked a job for your family, that other person wasn't going to feed your kids, only you would with the money you earned etc. They Basically said it was okay to wrong someone else as long as you did something nice with the ill gotten gains. I quit that job and a few others for similar reasons. How many Americans do you know who sit back and say screw the wealthy or the poor or what ever group they are not a part of basically and justify it in a similiar manner? Empathy seems to be a rare quality some days.

Stressful situations and war bring out the most drastic examples of this conflict in human nature but I fear it is something we as a race must struggle to understand and resist about ourselves daily.

Sorry that was such a long story but it seemed appropriate.

Further reading

Miriam Libicki describes her form of writing as Gonzo in her Memoirs... article and I think it is rather accurate. She mentioned she has exagerate some events but mostly it was accurate. She was by far the most interesting article in that text so far. While the fact that most of it was illustrated probably helped I think it was also the way she stayed direct and informal in her explaination. I have started to get the feeling other essays have been worried about presenting themselves and their topics as "serious" writing and have been trying to hard to impress instead of express.

I was also quite pleased to see Robert Crumb listed among those she felt as inspirational since he is going to be part of the focus of my research paper. I had been wondering about the tone of his comments on the back of Jobnik! and after reading of her appreciation of his work I think his comments on her book were intending in a light hearted and playful manner. For those who missed it he complimented her ability to draw the human form realistically but said he was suprised she had never met anyone who was not short and stout basically.

Speaking of short and stout, at the fantastic Fruhead concert and convention it seems we saw the only nice guy to cross Miriams path. Unfortunately just like in the past where she used her brother to brush him off, she again ignores his advances even though he fawns over her. While yes he does constantly dress in old T-shirts (Thudercats!!!) and seems a little more stout then the typical man in Jobnik, he is one of the only people she seems to actually have something in common with and have a chance of starting a non self-destructive relationship with I think. I wonder what happened the next year when they met...

Jobnik!

I really am sorry I missed the discussions for Jobnik! this week. I have to say it was probably the most unusual of our writings to date. Miriam Libicki never really went into details about her psychological profile and what it is that keeps her from having a more "important" role in the IDF but it seems clear from her flashbacks, actions and thoughts that her insecurities and desire for approval that comes out in her poor choice in men that is the problem.

It is interesting that her progressive and tolerant upbringing is what she looks at as having caused her so much trouble as a child. The fact that she did not look like the other children since she was allowed to dress herself at an early age is given as her reason for doubting her own worth, even her reason to claim she was destined to be a slut, even if she still clings to her virginity.

There are a few children at my son's elementary school I can see having the same issues some day. There is a boy in his Kindergarten class with a small ear plug and shaved head for instance. I personally don't have an issue with body art but this child who has been given free reign to mimic his parents has already been forced into the role of an outsider from his peers and rarely smiles. I know another boy whose parent doesn't believe in discipline, they want their child to be a free spirit. Now at age 7 or 8 he still uses his closet as a toilet and a range of other "naughty" behaviors. It's a strange balancing act to encourage individuality and yet help a child see what social pressures they may face for their choices even at a young age.

Miriam doesn't go into her relationship with her parents in Jobnik much which is such a shift after Maus and I think it would be interesting to learn more about this part of her life! She certain has been fearless and daring enough to reveal the dark parts of her life and to put her failings out there for others to judge or be amused by and while I found her writing style to be without a clear linear purpose it was unique and fascinating and I enjoyed it very much.

Maus II

I finished Art Spiegelman's Maus II this weekend and it was hard to imagine that this was released and published as two separate works. I wonder how odd that was to spend so much time in between the two having left the story only half told!

It was nice to see Spiegelman address all the questions about the impact of his work at the start of this second volume. When he made the point that he thinks many companies that exploited the Jews in Germany are still in business and making fine profits today it reminded me of the difficult struggles that were going on (and may be still) to recover personal items and treasures stolen by the Nazi's and then secured in Swiss banks. It was quite the issue for a while where the Jewish owners could not reclaim the property stolen from them as the Banks were bound by their service agreements to hold them for the people or entities that deposited them even if they were stolen.

Further when Art's father mentioned how Jews tried to return home and were killed by the Germans who enjoyed their ill gotten homes and businesses it was a harsh reminder that the hatred that Nazi Germany created did not die overnight just because the war was over. Having been to Germany in the past decade though and having seen the steps they take as a nation to insure the crimes are not brushed aside or forgotten I sincerely respect where they have gone as a nation and people since those dark days though!

Maus and Robert Crumb

After reading the first half of Art Spiegelmans Maus series I was very impressed with the intensity of he story. Much as Eisner gave a gritty and honest portrayal of what he saw as real life, Spiegelman wrote a story that did not pull any punches and allows resemblance to stereotypes to exist where he honestly saw them. I haven't begun the second half yet but I think the story will come around to show it is more about Art then his father.

Earlier this week I watched a film by Robert Crumb, based on and named after his Fritz the Cat character. While Crumb was not Jewish himself he married two women who were and he seems to have a great respect for the culture if not the religion. With Judaism as well as Islam that seems to be a tricky separation. Often traits which are cultural and not tied to the religion get attributed to it anyways.

Crumb also drew people as animals and assigned some individual animals to human groups and races. The Police were pigs (cliche but amusing), African Americans were crows (Jim Crow laws came to mind) and Fritz since he was cool had to be a cat. Now what was surprising was the fact that most of the traditional Jews at a temple were portrayed as older male lions. An interesting choice which casts them as an aging power or perhaps just a noble creature? A case could be made they were a revered and stronger version of the cat who was the title role and perhaps the character Crumb associated with himself?

I think it might make an interesting research topic to look further into Robert Crumb and see how the portrayal of Jews or religion by a non-Jew played out during the Silver Age and beyond. I have checked out several panels of his new Genesis work, a five year project where he illustrates the book of Genesis and seems to stay very neutral on interpretations. Any opinions out there on a way to refine and shape these topics?

Back from the Artwalk

Well that was fun! I got to see a fair number of local artists and their work and spent much of the time talking with a local comic book artist about his work and even spent a bit of time getting his perspective on some of the things we talked about in class. He gave me some recommendations for additional authors with a great spiritual context to their works that might be ones to look into for my research paper. I'll have to look them up tomorrow and see if they will generate an idea for my research paper. A topic still eludes me as I haven't found a narrow enough topic that actually interests me yet. Hopefully as we continue with the class readings something will jump out at me. I am anxious to get started on the extra reading so I can work on it more now while I have the free time.

I picked up a copy of the recent movie adaptation for The Spirit today at the video store. I did not hear a lot of good things about it when it first came out but it came out at the theaters around the same time as Watchmen so it may have just been the competition. I enjoyed Eisners A Contract With God but I am sure this will be in a much different vein. I believe it was in a video we watched in class where The Spirit was mentioned as having been drawn in a cinematic style and considering its long time popularity I have high hopes for this movie yet. If it lives up to them I'll port about it tomorrow!

The Silver Age

So we got through the Silver Age of comics this week. It was a rather interesting shift from the start to this maturing middle stage.

I was not familiar with many comics from this time period and was amused to find out the back story behind the arrival of Krypto the super dog. My son was a fan of Krypto a few years back and occasionally they still have guest appearances by Batdog! The Krakow to Krypton text seemed to state that the DC comic line made these sort of cross overs in a contrived fashion only driven by the desire to grow sales across fan bases and iw ould have to agree. Two things have always made Marvel my favorite, first the interconnected Universe that made the world seem "real" and alive. A unified setting where each characters actions potential affected another, and where villians didn't always harass the same hero always.

The second attraction to the Marvel comics was the human elements of the characters. I remember an old Spiderman comic book that I used to own that had Spidey literally pacing the walls of his apartment stressing out and eventually having problems with stress ulcers. It was this real person element that made him great.

One other facet of the Silver Age I found interesting was how process of comic creation final began to seem more deliberate. At least that is how I felt it was presented. In the Golden Age it seemed any trash printed was going to be snatched up but in the start of the Silver Age the market had contracted and a quality comic that was tailored towards individual markets were required.

So that leaves me interested to see what the third and final Age of comics will be... Perhaps it will again be defined by further growth, an increase in the use of the medium for something besides simple entertainment?