I've just finished reading and reviewing the Univ of Iowa collection When War Becomes Personal: Soldiers' Accounts From the Civil War to Iraq (edited by Donald Anderson) and must point out the simply stunning essay by B2 bomber pilot Jason Armagost. This piece alone is worth the price of the book (although I found many of the essays to be amazing) and honestly in all the war reading I have done I can't think of anything quite like it. While flying the 20,000 miles in thirty-nine hourse to Baghdad as part of the first bombing run of the Second Gulf War, Armagost also read some of the dozen books he packed in his duffle. (On that kind of flight you read, walk around, sleep, eat - there is more than one pilot obviously). In the essay he blends together a meditation on war, hunting, men, literature and history in a most impressive manner - it's so eloquent and reads as so effortless that you can't believe how smart this guy is and how deeply thoughtful. A bit of the essay:
To the north, Spain. From the library bag—Cervantes: “But all this must be suffered by those who profess the stern order of chivalry.” And: “My judgment is now clear and unfettered, and that dark cloud of ignorance has disappeared, which the continual reading of those detestable books of knight-errantry had cast over my understanding.”
Don Quixote was, and remains, redemption for a maimed veteran of the Battle of Lepanto and seven-year prisoner of the Saracens. Four hundred years later, we are bestowed the unwisdom of the knight and the fidelity and candor of his man Sancho. I pray he squires me now.
To the south, the Atlas Mountains heave up through the sands of North Africa. Over the water—low, scattered, vivid-white cumulus clouds. Time, distance, and history are crammed in the 14 kilometers severing continents. The sea below is a Homeric wine-dark against the early afternoon March sun. Our Mediterranean flight plan ushers us through international airspace to minimize the political complexities of trucking weapons to war.
Valencia.
Barcelona.
Marseilles. The lilting music of a female French air-traffic controller’s voice. She knows we are USAF bombers. Our documentation conceals nothing. I expect contempt in her voice, but hear none. Her warmth suggests a kind of condolence. A sadness floods me when she hands us off to the next controller.
You can download the essay via literary journal War, Literature and the Arts, where it originally appeared in 2006. (Scroll down through the TOC to nearly the bottom and you'll see it.) It's an excellent read - can't recommend it enough.
Also, here's a great overview of the book itself and an interview with the editor, Donald Anderson.
August 4
2009
11:50 AM
I just read Armagost's essay. I learned a lot from it. Thank you so much for the recommendation, Colleen!