Making It Home

A-26 Invader attack aircraft dropping bombs on the Siegfried Line.
(U.S. Air Force photo)

A comment on a recent post from my Camarade de Blogging LL (over at Virtual Mirage, a daily must read) made me think. In truth, most of the comments from my readers make me think, but this one more than most -

I viewed the film on your recommendation and you didn't steer me wrong. The Wilderness Campaign, and perhaps Shiloh, which had the same sort of terrain, were among the most bitter of the war, if for no other reason than much of it was small units in heavy cover. The Civil War/War of Northern Aggression was one of those horrible situations where Americans fought each other and the weapons far outstripped the tactics. Thus I always think of these sorts of films as particularly sad. The mechanics of moving from concept to script to shooting script to casting and set development make it interesting because making a movie is a lot of moving parts. But the experiential side of it reminded me of more modern conflicts. Particularly Laos, pulling a downed F-101 crew out of a triple canopy situation on the wrong side of a border that was not clearly defined. Hand to hand with Chinese, Hand to hand with Pathet Lao, because we ran out of ammo and they didn't. No it was not the Civil War, but wars have a way of being uncomfortably similar in many ways, and killing an enemy when he coughs out his last breath in your face (even if it smells like fish shit) is still killing. And years past, it was worth it to get the USAF guys out, but there were a lot of Chinese and Lao who never made it home.

Because making it home is really all that matters.

That last line really struck me to the core of my being.

All too often we who love our military history books tend to forget that history is made by real people, people just like us for the most part. They are born, they grow up, they love, they sometimes hate, they get tired, they get hungry, in short - they are human beings.

Yes, yes, some are fanatic bastards who deserve nothing more than a quick death, but in reality (if we are truly honest) that group is a small minority. For the most part, the folks who are "out there" - on the ground, on (and under) the seas, and in the air - are the ones who are often more or less unwilling participants in the grand scheme of things.

Would anyone of sound mind desire to be in battle, where one moment's indecision or lapse of concentration can lead to disastrous results? Instant or lingering painful death, or perhaps a lifetime of being an invalid, in either or both mind and body are far too often the result of battle. Even those who survive physically unscathed are marked for life by the event.

A good historian will remind us of the common people who actually fight the wars, who do the suffering and the dying. It isn't all about generals and admirals making the big decisions that determine the outcome of a war. The best plan, the best flag officers a nation can produce are meaningless if the soldiery are not up to the task at hand. 

Why does a soldier fight? The goal is to end the war, to go home and continue life as it was before the conflict began. I have seen (somewhere) a quote to the effect that "if it takes killing everyone of those bastards on the other side for me to go home, I'll do it." That's usually what stands between a soldier and going home again, a soldier wearing a different uniform who no doubt feels much the same way.

With that being said, I have just started reading a new book, Snow and Steel: The Battle of the Bulge, 1944-45 by Peter Caddick-Adams. A friend of mine (one of those friends I've never met that Lex often wrote of, no coincidence that I know him through Lex's old blog, Neptunus Lex) sent me an email recommending the book to me.

As he is a friend (and a retired Armor officer, he knows his stuff) I did a quick bit of research here, then immediately ordered the book. I mean, I did the "look inside" thing and was hooked. Last night I read the introduction and was enthralled.

In the introduction Dr. Caddick-Adams mentions no generals (though Churchill gets a nod), rather he writes about the American GIs, the British Tommies, and the German Landsers* who fought and all too often died in that bitter winter of 1944-45. But he also writes of the Belgian civilians who tried to carry on with everyday life while war raged around them, many of them died as well.

So if the posts for the next few days seem a bit short, let's just say, "That book ain't gonna read itself."

Stay frosty...






* Landser is a German colloquialism for a soldier, typically applying to the enlisted ranks.