PDA

View Full Version : A man takes solace in producing fruit as the Iraqi war brings back his own painful me


thedrifter
11-11-04, 12:18 PM
A man takes solace in producing fruit as the Iraqi war brings back his own painful memories

Thursday, November 11, 2004
JILL SMITH
The Oregonian

HILLSBORO The sun shines in on a full plate of hand grenades sitting on Ben and Helen Carson's little kitchen table.

That's what the Carsons like to call their kiwi fruit, which is about the same size and color as the deadly weapon Ben Carson, now 81, used to wield during World War II.

"I jokingly say we ought to get the U.N. to adopt these as hand grenades -- throw em at each other instead of shooting," Carson said. "We'd 'have a war' and feed the world at the same time."

The kiwi farm -- the only one in Washington County -- is more than fodder for Carson's dreams of a happier, more peaceful world. It's an important distraction from his memories of a violent past -- and the anger he buried for nearly 60 years.

"I never did understand post-traumatic stress disorder," Carson said, referring to the nightmares, flashbacks and intense emotional trauma that plagued many Vietnam veterans after the war.

But Carson's own symptoms of the disorder were triggered in 2001, when he participated in a National Geographic documentary about nine Marines who were beheaded by the Japanese -- and about Carson, who almost had been one of them.

Carson was a member of the famous Carlson's Raiders -- a Marine battalion named after its commander, Maj. Evans F. Carlson, who was later glorified in the 1943 movie "Gung Ho."

But their 1942 attack on Makin Atoll, a Japanese-held island in the Pacific, was anything but glorious, Carson said. It was so disorganized that at one point, according to Carson and the Raiders' Web site (www.usmarineraiders.org), Carlson tried to surrender to an enemy who already had been driven out.

Nearly 20 Marines were killed. Nine others were left behind and captured when the Japanese returned to the island. They were taken to Kwajalein Atoll and, eventually, beheaded.

Carson was almost one of them. After the initial raid at Makin, he said, he paddled back to a submarine, where a Navy medical corpsman greeted him with a bottle of brandy to celebrate his survival. Shortly after, a sergeant came by recruiting soldiers who would go back to the island to pick up any wounded.

"He looked at me and said, 'Go lie down, you're drunk,' " Carson remembered. "That drink saved my life."

The five men who agreed to return to the island were among the nine later beheaded.

From cattle to kiwi

Carson, meanwhile, returned from the war and married Helen, a Minnesota farm child like himself. He worked as a forester until 1980, then he began working on his 25-acre farm south of Hillsboro. The Carsons tried raising cattle, then wheat, but neither made much money. In 1985, they planted two acres of kiwi vines, a fruit more tied to New Zealand and California.

The labor-intensive crop peaked for the Carsons about five years ago with a yield of 24,000 pounds. This year, they harvested about 10,500 pounds, which they sell to WinCo and Bales Thriftway stores in Washington County. The fruit is fewer in number but much bigger and better in quality than when they began.

In 2001, their idyllic farm life took a traumatic turn. Two months after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, their 50-year-old son, Dennis, died of a heart attack. Two months later, Carson traveled to Kwajalein with a National Geographic crew filming a search for remains of the nine beheaded Marines.

It was too much for Carson.

At one point in the filming, he retraced the route he thought the prisoners had walked to the execution area.

"It was devastating," Carson said. "I could have been on that walk."

He felt so weak afterward that he had to sit down. His blood pressure shot up; he began bleeding from one of his ears; and he had to be taken to a medical clinic.

Since then, "I've had tremendous problems sleeping," he said. And Helen Carson says her previously easygoing husband now angers quickly.

A Veterans Affairs therapist Carson turned to for help told him, "You resent anyone telling you what to do." Carson traces that feeling to a loss of faith in authority that was triggered by his walk on Kwajalein and his memories of the poorly commanded raid.

Recent beheadings in Iraq stir up those memories. And when he learned of the prisoner abuse scandal at Abu Ghraib prison, he saw a replay of enlisted soldiers taking the fall for poor decisions made at higher levels.

Farm, fruit offer escape

The farm is a welcome distraction from Carson's thoughts of war and violence and injustice.

The Carsons no longer pick or prune the kiwi themselves. Helen, 79, is legally blind, and Ben's artificial shoulder -- constructed after an Iwo Jima shrapnel wound -- makes it hard for him to wield pruning shears and chainsaws.

But Carson still has tractor work to do on his other acres. If he weren't mowing and rototilling, Carson guesses he would spend most of the day sleeping, making up for those long, dark hours he lies awake at night.

And for all the tragedies he has seen, Carson hasn't lost his sense of humor -- particularly when it comes to new approaches for marketing their little hand grenades. They'd like New Seasons to carry their kiwis.

Otherwise, he said, "Crush up the crop, put it in the hot tub and let people dive in there for 50 bucks."

Ellie

thedrifter
11-11-04, 12:38 PM
The Truly Greatest Generation
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
November 11, 2004
by Michael P. Tremoglie

A few years ago the term "Greatest Generation" was coined to describe those men who lived through the Great Depression and served during World War II. They term denoted their tremendous sacrifices and accomplishments.

I knew much about that generation. It was my parents, my uncles, and my aunts' generation. World War II memorabilia was everywhere - one particularly poignant piece of memorabilia was a photograph of the flagged draped casket of my uncle, killed in action June 9, 1944, in Normandy, France.

However, I do not concur with the description of them being the " greatest generation." Although that generation was indeed extraordinary, I feel that the veterans of World War II were not quite as great as another generation - the generation of the Vietnam veterans.

After all, it was easy to go to war to the sounds of the cheers of their fellow citizens who considered them heroes as those who served in World War II were considered. It was easy to go war to the sounds of marching bands.

It was easy to go to war when you knew the difference between good and evil, right and wrong. When you knew that your country had been invaded and that what happened on a December morning in Honolulu could easily happen on a May morning in Philadelphia.

It was easy to return home from World War II. It was easy to return to parades and enormous signs of "Well Done" and "Welcome Home." It was easy to return home to the thanks of a grateful nation.

However, for those who went to Vietnam it was quite a different experience. There were no marching bands for those sent to the jungles of Southeast Asia. Nobody considered them heroes. Indeed, some considered them fools.

They returned home not to marching bands or parades or enormous signs of "Well Done" and "Welcome Home," or the thanks of a grateful nation. Instead, they returned home to jeers and protests.

What they did, they did, not because of what happened one December morning in Hawaii. They did what they did because they knew they could prevent something like that from happening.

They did what they did even though there was a great question of whether it was right or wrong, good or evil.

They did what they did even though they could have opted for less risky avenues. Many could have gone to Canada or received a deferment. Yet, they did it. They did it and the world is a better place today because of them. They were perhaps the greatest contribution to the Cold War effort - to what was essentially World War III.

The Vietnamese communists wanted to enslave the helpless. They were part of the international campaign to establish a communist empire.

The men of Vietnam protected those who could not protect themselves. The veterans of Vietnam prevented the establishment of a communist empire. Their noble deeds began the process that resulted with the demise of the Soviet Union.

The fifty-five thousand of them who paid the ultimate price were forgotten by their fellow citizens and except for the labors of their fellow veterans would remain forgotten. Their survivors not really provided for by our nation. Others, who were disabled, were not afforded the optimal treatment for their disabilities initially. Those who returned were not only unwelcome they were told to conceal their service.

David Christian, the most decorated veteran of Vietnam, recounts how, as a student at Rutgers University, he was treated contemptuously by some of Rutgers' faculty. These educated elite never considered communism a threat to the security of the United States and therefore considered Vietnam a folly. Indeed, many of them admired communism.

It is ironic that Christian's Rutgers professors - and others who influenced the popular culture - eschewed American anti-communism. It is ironic that they were disdainful of those who defended America from communism. It is ironic because undoubtedly they would have been among the first eliminated by the communists.

As one veteran - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, a Sergeant of the United States Marine Corps, - once wrote, "It is the soldier, not the reporter who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag."

The men who went to Vietnam preserved these freedoms for their fellow citizens who derided and abandoned them. It was a thankless task, yet they did it without question.

It is they who truly deserve the title, " The Greatest Generation."

Michael P. Tremoglie is a writer whose work has appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer, Philadelphia Daily News, Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, Front Page and Insight magazines. He is working on his first novel 'A Sense of Duty'. E-mail him at elfegobaca2@earthlink.net

Ellie