English 015 - Americans Abroad
The Loneliness of Vietnam
The Loneliness of Vietnam
Category: 4E: O'Brien | Kelsey Abbruzzese
In Going After Cacciato, every man dies alone. Every death is unique, and every death brings relief to the living. After Buff’s death, Paul Berlin “couldn’t fake sadness. It had to be there. If it wasn’t there you couldn’t fake it. You were glad it wasn’t you” (282). Because of the isolation of death and the release felt by the soldiers that they are still alive, the characters in O’Brien’s novel are emotionally detached from each other. The fear of his own death isolates each man: he does not want to die, but death is a monster of war that craves appeasement. Since someone has to die, the soldiers dodge true camaraderie because they want to avoid feeling the loss. This isolation pervades Paul Berlin’s fantasy, blocking his attempt to create a band of soldiers that is his closest connection to intimacy in war. The camaraderie he desires is impossible, even in his imagination.
O’Brien illustrates the isolation of death through each dead soldier’s story. He begins the novel by listing the dead, instituting a sense of doom when the character appears later in the narrative (1). In every instance, only one soldier dies, showing the singularity and isolation of death. Frenchie Tucker dies in the tunnels and the enemy shoots Bernie Lynn when he follows Frenchie, but the only visible death is Bernie’s. “His feet were still showing when he was shot,” O’Brien writes. “The feet were still clean, it happened that fast” (90). Because Bernie’s death is the only one the soldiers see and because Bernie is the only man they pull out of the tunnels, the two deaths are considered to be in separate battles. The other men also die individual deaths: Rudy Chassler dies during the long, quiet march, Billy Boy Watkins trips over the land mine, and Pederson is shot in the paddies all in separate battles.
In addition to each soldier dying an individual death, each casualty is unique. Frenchie Tucker, Bernie Lynn, and Sidney Martin all die in the tunnels, but O’Brien makes distinctions between their deaths to establish their isolation. Bernie and Frenchie die in the same tunnel, but O’Brien points out at the beginning of the novel that “Frenchie had been shot through the nose” (1). Later in the novel, Bernie is shot “half an inch below the throat” (90). O’Brien provides specific details for each fatality to create distinctions, and each character can remember a man by the way he died. Billy Boy Watkins becomes the “ultimate war story” (203), the soldier who was frightened to death when a land mine blew his foot off (216). Buff dies like a “prayin’ Arab” (281) and Jim Pederson “did not go crazy about being shot” (131) when his own Chinook kills him. Through these particular details, O’Brien creates a lonely, individual death for each soldier that contributes to their isolation.
The relief of the living soldiers adds to the emotional detachment and distance among the men. Every man knows someone has to die in war, and like Paul Berlin, they are glad when it isn’t them. When a man dies, the others can live another day. The suspense of death adds to the tension, shown during the march to Trinh Son 2. “Paul Berlin’s head roared with quiet…When Rudy Chassler hit the mine, the noise was muffled, almost fragile, but it was a relief for all of them” (110). The avoidance of death becomes a competition for life among the men. When a soldier dies, the other men have won that competition, at least until the next battle.
The soldiers disconnect from each other for self-preservation and to avoid feeling the inevitable loss when one of their own dies. To create this detachment, the men employ jokes and nicknames. When Billy Boy dies, Eddie Lazzutti, “who loved to sing, remembered the song, and the jokes started, and Eddie sang where have you gone, Billy Boy…oh where have you gone, charming Billy?” (217). Billy Boy’s death becomes a joke to them to ease the weight of the casualty. Also, the men refuse to learn Ready Mix’s real name because his death becomes casual and easy to deal with if they have no idea of his identity. “It was thought he would die quickly, and he did, and it was better not to know his full name. Easier to forget what happened, because, in a sense, it never did. Easier to talk about it” (146). If the soldiers do not even attempt to learn each other’s names, there is no opportunity for camaraderie or an emotional connection.
Paul Berlin attempts to break this detachment through his fantasy, imagining a band of soldiers that carry their lieutenant out of India “he’s among the walkin’ wounded…you don’ never leave your wounded behind” (175). Paul Berlin’s fantasy, however, ultimately fails in forging an emotional connection between the soldiers. His use of a fantasy for his emotional connection signals the detachment from the other men. Instead of reaching out to them, he reaches into his mind for camaraderie. He even fails on the emotional level in his choice of the soldiers in the fantasy. The men are not his closest friends, but the men who are physically closest to him during his watch in the observation post. “The others slept. Stink Harris slept defensively…Oscar slept gracefully…and Eddie Lazzutti slept fitfully” (80). On page 27, Doc Peret is also mentioned as being part of the group in the observation tower. Lieutenant Corson, though old and ill, serves as an authority figure. Berlin’s choices reflect not those he considers comrades, but those who he can see. Paul Berlin shares no true emotional connection with these men, only physical proximity.
The disconnection between the men also shows when Harold Murphy and Stink Harris leave the group. Harold Murphy votes against chasing Cacciato and loses. “In the morning, Harold Murphy and his big gun were gone. They continued west without him” (35). No one misses Murphy or speaks of his disappearance: they simply continue without missing a beat. Since there is no true emotional connection, the men have no reaction to Murphy’s departure. When Stink jumps ship, he leaves quietly like Harold Murphy. “There was no splash. No noise at all, nothing…Then the wake was gone. So was Stink Harris” (259). The silence associated with Stink’s disappearance illustrates his quiet exit from the lives of the other soldiers. He departs from the group cleanly, with no fuss or messy emotions.
During his fantasy, Paul Berlin shows his inability to form an emotional connection with Sarkin Aung Wan. He becomes a man of almosts: they “almost make love” in Mandalay (115) and he “pretends they make love” in Delhi (170). Though he hopes to be close to Sarkin, he falls short of complete intimacy. Also, she is only concerned with Paris. “They talked often of Paris…Her face brightened at this sort of talk” (170). Sarkin is more attached to the idea of reaching the city than growing closer to Paul, preventing an emotional attachment.
Paul Berlin’s fantasy reflects the isolation of the true war in Vietnam. Even Cacciato travels as a lone deserter, sits quietly alone, and fishes alone in the World’s Greatest Lake Country. Each man is separated from the others by his fear of death, keeping him from true camaraderie. Each soldier watches another die a lonely death, thinking only of the relief that it was not him who died. Paul Berlin’s silent night watch among the quiet, sleeping soldiers pervades his fantasy, keeping him from escaping the isolation of the Vietnam War.
Posted by on December 15, 2003 at 12:44 PM