Oh, my goodness. We just came back from the UUSR, and the service was on "Hungry Ghosts", and the haunting memories of the soliders returning from war, how "PTSD" (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) does not account for the horror and grief and damage to the soul war inflicts. I was really shocked, and taken aback, actually. In tears for most of it.
She talked about how the soliders are usually drafted when they are young, taken from their family, how they are given conflicting orders, and told that the moral codes they have grown up with are null and void - worthless. How they will chant "Kil kill kill" while being taught to stab human figures with bayonets, and how some of their shellshock is the fact that they were taught nothing but loyalty to their comrades, so now thrown into normal life, they can't function. In WW2, only 20% of soliders fired their weapons when ordered and at risk of their own deaths. By Vietnam, it was 95%.
The music was "Bring Him Home", from the musical Les Miserables, which is one of my favourites. Very fitting, very well sung, and if you haven't heard it (which, knowing my taste in music, you haven't), I would suggest listening to it. Made me break down in tears. Typical, I know.
There was also a slideshow of pictures from the wars over the years. The two I remember most were from Vietnam. One was a wedding picture. The man was a vet, his face completely maimed, looked like Voldemort, no ears, no eyes, no nose, a slit for a mouth, and the woman was looking up at him, the expression on her face trapped, horrified and disgusted. The other picture was of a black solider, staring across a wasteland, tears on his face. He didn't look much older than us, probably 18 or 19.
I have to go now. We're going to Badaga Bay, so I will post another, slightly happier journal entry later today.
Still in tears,
Rachel :'o(
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