Bowdoin

English 015 - Americans Abroad
Between Home and the War

Between Home and the War

Category: 4E: O'Brien | Eric Robinson

In Tim O’Brien’s Going After Cacciato, the Vietnam War induces a high degree of stress on every soldier involved. One of the main sources of frustration for the men is that the conflict lacks any definite purpose. Throughout the novel, characters repeatedly recall how they see no overall rationale to the fighting. When discussing the struggle with an American soldier, Captain Rhallon tells him, “I understand that one difficulty for you has been a lack of purpose,” (O’Brien, p. 197) clearly showing the absence of an ultimate goal. Such a missing target is especially influential on Paul Berlin. On top of his confusion over the war’s objective, Paul is also scared of the hostilities in Vietnam. While in a state of reflection, he declares, “The issue was courage. It had always been, even as a kid…Tunnels scared him…The real issue was the power of will to defeat fear.” (O’Brien, p. 81) Such confidence problems, as well as other emotions, including homesickness, cause Berlin to constantly think about his family and residence back in America. Due to his fears of fighting a war with no apparent purpose and nostalgia, Paul Berlin cannot fully engage himself in the Vietnam conflict, and instead, he is caught in a condition between the combat and his home.
Paul Berlin’s struggle involving the fighting and his home is evident very early in the piece. Even upon entering into the army, which he enlisted in at the rather young age of 20, he admits, “He was lost. He had never heard of I Corps, or the Americal, or Chu Lai.” (O’Brien, p. 36) Berlin’s confession undoubtedly demonstrates his initial indecision after joining the American forces, a trend that persists for the remainder of the novel. Quickly following his opening statement, Paul both reinforces his uncertainty in the Vietnam event as well as illustrates attachment to his home when he writes to his father asking for “a letter telling something about how things went on the home front.” (O’Brien, p. 38) Such a request is posed because Berlin’s father is a WWII veteran and Paul wishes for encouragement from a loved one, displaying his insecurity in the war and his bond to his home.
The plot advances shortly to Paul having a flashback on his childhood. He remembers being in the Indian Guide program, specifically losing his father in the woods. The incident clearly shocked the juvenile soldier and hints that he still depends on his father for guidance. Desperate for a release from the war and wanting a link to his home, Paul quickly goes on to describe an outhouse as having “the first truly familiar smell of the war,” and after entering it, he is “at home, comfortable, even at peace.” (O’Brien, p. 41) Unfortunately, this reassuring peace is temporary. Paul soon resorts to again thinking about his father as a means to feel closer to home and escape his fright of the war that he cannot involve himself in completely.
Later in the novel, Paul recalls a piece of advice that his father gave him before he left for Vietnam: “You’ll see some terrible stuff, I guess. That’s how it goes. But try to look for the good things, too. They’ll be there if you look. So watch for them.” (O’Brien, p. 63) Berlin repeats these words multiple times throughout the text as a means of trying to comfort himself; however, his obsession with encouragements from home only serves to inhibit him from fully engaging in the war, both physically and emotionally. Unbeknownst to him, Paul cannot even employ such counsel because he refuses to entirely get into the war, preventing him from finding any “good things”.
Paul also considers his father when trying to overcome his fears in Vietnam. Referring back to an excerpt in the introduction, the soldier remarks, “He would’ve liked showing the medal [the Silver Star] to his father,…looking his father in the eye to show he had been brave, but even that wasn’t the real issue. The real issue was the power of will to defeat fear.” (O’Brien, p. 81) Despite Paul’s attempts to use his father as a motivator to be brave in battle, he still cannot suppress the terror he has while serving in the army, blocking the young man from totally absorbing himself in the combat. Later, when Berlin is again uneasy in his surroundings, he pretends he “was not in the war.” (O’Brien, p. 208) As before, he tries to quiet his fright by remembering aspects from his home: ““Be calm,” his father said, “Ignore the bad stuff, look for the good.”” (O’Brien, p. 209) The narrator next describes how Paul “pretended that when he opened his eyes his father would be there…and later, he pretended, it would be morning and there would not be a war.” (O’Brien, p. 209) Following the trend, the American soldier seeks console in connecting with memories from home, but sadly, they still are unable to solve his confidence problems, stranding him in a war with more scary happenings to come.
Being unable to conquer his worries, Paul is always forced to remove himself when they arise, usually mentally, but even in body. Such an example is taken when the Third Squad is drinking together and Oscar brings up the gruesome death of Billy Boy Watkins, “the ultimate war story” (O’Brien, p. 203). As soon as Paul hears Oscar, he feels sick and queasy. Berlin then says, “His legs were weak. Cold and drunk,…but not so cold and weak and drunk that he would listen to the ultimate war story,” (O’Brien, p. 203) exhibiting how even when inebriated and tired, Paul’s fears of the Vietnam confrontation still plague him.
Finally, after endeavoring numerous occasions to cope with his panic, the young soldier eventually seeks to completely cut himself off from the fright altogether. While marching one night, when the demise of Billy Boy (a story that the rest of the Third Squad undoubtedly enjoys) enters Paul Berlin’s mind, he rids it from his thoughts by stating, “Follow the herd but don’t join it…The trick would be to keep himself separate.” (O’Brien, p. 211) Berlin’s declaration stands as a rare instance of his self-control. Nonetheless, his realization is also disheartening in that his fears affect him to the extent that he must prevent himself from fully joining efforts with the fellow men in his group, and thus, the war in general. In his unusual moment of independence, Berlin soon becomes weak with the unfamiliarity of the feeling, and, as before, he slips back to the comforts of home: ““Keep an eye out for the good stuff,” his father had said by the river. “Keep your eyes open and your ass low, that’s my only advice.”” (O’Brien, p. 211) Once again, Paul’s return to a memory from home ruins any chances, in this case his best opportunity, of facing the war and adapting to it. When Berlin has another flashback to a battlefield with Cacciato fishing in a bomb crater, he once more deals with his anxiety through cerebral isolation from the memory: “He leaned back and pretended it wasn’t a war.” (O’Brien, p. 233)
Towards the end of the novel, Berlin becomes so intent on separating himself from the war and its terrifying aspects that he pretends he is “at the bottom of a chlorinated pool.” (O’Brien, p. 280) The young soldier then proceeds to elaborate on his “pool” environment by claiming, “He concentrated on the silence,” (O’Brien, p. 280) totally shutting himself off from the horrors and hence, not accepting the reality of the Vietnam conflict. Berlin is clearly content with this method of mental division from the frightful battle scenes for he employs it again later in the plot, letting “himself slide to the bottom of his warm deep pool.” (O’Brien, p. 282) While Berlin’s silent, detached space does indeed help him to escape his trepidations from the war, it continues to restrain him from fully entering the fighting. For example, Berlin believes he has no enemies: “He wanted to harm no one. Not even the enemy. He had no enemies. He had wronged no one.” (O’Brien, p. 263) The young soldier carries on in his state of division from the battles as he says, “He didn’t know who was right, or what was right; he didn’t know if it was a war of self-determination or self-destruction.” (O’Brien, p. 264) With so much confusion, Paul can only seek solace in his concrete memories from a home far away, hopelessly marooning him on the Vietnam battlefields that he can never totally join.
Berlin’s presence in the novel serves as a direct link to the life of O’Brien himself, who may have also dealt with the violence through reassuring memories from home. While both men served in Vietnam, they also had strong bonds to their fathers, each of whom were actually World War II veterans. O’Brien’s firm tie to his father can even be seen in the name “Berlin”, a major city in the Second World War, in which his father partook. With such an emphasis on his father, perhaps O’Brien depended on paternal support during his involvement in the army, as did Paul. Therefore, by instituting Paul Berlin as the protagonist in his piece, O’Brien enabled himself to write as effectively and true-to-reality as possible in that his descriptions were grounded in personal experiences. As a result, the author’s novel becomes almost non-fictional, having the ability to impact readers based on the true happenings of the Vietnam War.


Posted by on December 14, 2003 at 04:58 PM


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