thedrifter
11-06-05, 06:51 AM
THE FEW, THE PROUD
- John Koopman
Sunday, November 6, 2005
First, a word about the name, "Jarhead." Don't use it. It's not a word you get to say unless you served in the Marines.
It's all right to use it in the context of the book "Jarhead" or the new movie based on the book. But it's not a nice word. It's not exactly the N word or the other really bad words that you can't say unless you're in the group they refer to. But it's close.
Originally, the term simply described the way a Marine's head looked. Sides of the head shaved, a short cropping on top. It looks like a jar. The term also means "empty vessel." A Marine's head is empty and may be filled only with the information he or she is given from higher authority. Or something like that. Mostly, it's a term used by Navy squids, Army dogfaces and Air Force zoomies. Mostly, it's said behind the jarhead's back. Otherwise, it's a pretty good way to start a bar fight.
Anthony Swofford, the Sacramento native who wrote the book, says the title reflects his own complex feelings about having been a Marine: You love it, and you hate it.
You love the excitement. You hate saluting a boot lieutenant.
You love your buddies. You hate lifers.
You love the uniform. You hate the haircut.
You were dumb enough to join but too proud to get out. You want to fight, to go to war. You want to kill. But you fear death and you fear what you will become if you take another human life.
I remember those conflicting feelings very well. I joined the Marines on June 6, 1976. Moments after I got off the bus at Parris Island, S.C., I wanted out. Four years later, with three stripes on my arm, I still wanted out. The day I left the Corps, I drove a quarter-mile down the road from the main gate at Camp Lejeune and stopped my car. Just so I could memorize the sight of the gate in my rear-view mirror.
Time erases the bad things, the reasons you want to get out. What remains is the sense of pride. You can be proud that you survived, that you bear the title of Marine, that you will always be part of the brotherhood. Yes, brotherhood, even for the women Marines because they went through the same crap.
I don't say this to speak ill of the Marine Corps. I have some very good friends who stayed in and made it a career. They are true believers and honest-to-God heroes. I respect them greatly and they are all better men than I am. The difference is, they accepted the tough times and the petty rules, the long deployments away from home and the possibility of war. Some do it for the benefits; it's a career. Others are exactly like the staff sergeant played by Jamie Foxx in the movie, who says, "I thank God for every day he gives me in the Corps. Oo-rah."
Personally, I hated taking orders and could not see myself spending my life in uniform. So "Jarhead" the movie, and the book, spoke to me.
This isn't a standard war movie. There's very little fighting, only a few explosions. Rather, it's a movie about Marines. What motivates them, who they are, how they act and think.
It takes place mostly in Saudi Arabia in 1990. Swofford's unit has been sent to sit in the desert and wait for the politicians to get done talking, so Desert Storm can begin. You see the stress, the boredom, the juvenile antics of young boys playing war. It will give you a good idea of who is in Iraq right now fighting the latest war.
"Every war is different," the narrator says at the end of the movie. "Every war is the same."
One thing that remains constant, but the general public might not understand very well, is the mind-set of many Marines and soldiers: The desire to kill. And the fear of it.
In the book and the film, Swofford (played onscreen by Jake Gyllenhaal; see story on Page 30) is a reluctant Marine but wants to do well. Eventually, he is drawn into the world of the sniper. This is very specialized stuff. As a standard grunt, he is trained to kill, but it's part of a larger offensive military campaign. As a sniper, he has just one mission: Find an enemy from a great distance and snuff out his life. This is killing in its purest form, and requires the shooter to think long and hard about the consequences of his actions.
His staff sergeant talks about another Marine, Lee Harvey Oswald, who killed a president with a very long rifle shot to the head. "Nothing but pink mist," the sergeant says, referring to the blood and brain matter that fly through the air after a successful shot.
Swofford learns the trade and, eventually, is mesmerized by his power. He's on the rifle range, punching precision holes in a paper target over and over. And thinking to himself, "I want the pink mist."
Later, the war starts, but it's largely a battle fought by air and tanks. Swofford's unit gets into the fight, but just barely. He and his buddy are sent to shoot a couple of high-ranking Iraqis. He has one in his sights. He's ready to squeeze the trigger. And then, the mission is aborted. Mrs. Swofford's son will never have to live with the memory of killing. And he laments this.
"To be a Marine, a true Marine, you must kill," Swofford writes. "With all your training, all of your expertise, if you don't kill you're not a combatant, even if you've been fired at, and so you are not yet a Marine: Receiving fire is easy -- you've either made a mistake or the enemy is better than you, and now you are either lucky or dead, but not a combatant."
Be advised, the language in "Jarhead" is rough. And if you're wondering if it's overplayed or exaggerated, the answer is no. Marines can be the most foul-mouthed human beings on the planet. Somewhat, I think this is a reflection that Marines are bad boys, and bad boys use bad language.
In the film, a Marine tells Swofford, "Welcome to the Suck." That's a word young Marines have used for the Corps since before I was in. Its origins have been lost to time, but it comes from the phrase "F -- the Suck." It's still in use today, but underground. That's not for sound bites.
At the end of the movie, there are several scenes showing what happened to the Marines in Swofford's unit. They're all doing mundane things, like stocking soda pop at the supermarket.
Some will see that and think: happy ending. The Marine has a good job and a good life and need not worry about killing and dying.
Others will be sad. Look how boring his life has become. The warrior without a war.
"Some wars are unavoidable and need well be fought, but this doesn't erase warfare's waste," Swofford writes. "Sorry, we must say to the mothers whose sons will die horribly. This will never end. Sorry."
"Jarhead" (R) opened this weekend at Bay Area theaters.
E-mail John Koopman at jkoopman@sfchronicle. com.
- John Koopman
Sunday, November 6, 2005
First, a word about the name, "Jarhead." Don't use it. It's not a word you get to say unless you served in the Marines.
It's all right to use it in the context of the book "Jarhead" or the new movie based on the book. But it's not a nice word. It's not exactly the N word or the other really bad words that you can't say unless you're in the group they refer to. But it's close.
Originally, the term simply described the way a Marine's head looked. Sides of the head shaved, a short cropping on top. It looks like a jar. The term also means "empty vessel." A Marine's head is empty and may be filled only with the information he or she is given from higher authority. Or something like that. Mostly, it's a term used by Navy squids, Army dogfaces and Air Force zoomies. Mostly, it's said behind the jarhead's back. Otherwise, it's a pretty good way to start a bar fight.
Anthony Swofford, the Sacramento native who wrote the book, says the title reflects his own complex feelings about having been a Marine: You love it, and you hate it.
You love the excitement. You hate saluting a boot lieutenant.
You love your buddies. You hate lifers.
You love the uniform. You hate the haircut.
You were dumb enough to join but too proud to get out. You want to fight, to go to war. You want to kill. But you fear death and you fear what you will become if you take another human life.
I remember those conflicting feelings very well. I joined the Marines on June 6, 1976. Moments after I got off the bus at Parris Island, S.C., I wanted out. Four years later, with three stripes on my arm, I still wanted out. The day I left the Corps, I drove a quarter-mile down the road from the main gate at Camp Lejeune and stopped my car. Just so I could memorize the sight of the gate in my rear-view mirror.
Time erases the bad things, the reasons you want to get out. What remains is the sense of pride. You can be proud that you survived, that you bear the title of Marine, that you will always be part of the brotherhood. Yes, brotherhood, even for the women Marines because they went through the same crap.
I don't say this to speak ill of the Marine Corps. I have some very good friends who stayed in and made it a career. They are true believers and honest-to-God heroes. I respect them greatly and they are all better men than I am. The difference is, they accepted the tough times and the petty rules, the long deployments away from home and the possibility of war. Some do it for the benefits; it's a career. Others are exactly like the staff sergeant played by Jamie Foxx in the movie, who says, "I thank God for every day he gives me in the Corps. Oo-rah."
Personally, I hated taking orders and could not see myself spending my life in uniform. So "Jarhead" the movie, and the book, spoke to me.
This isn't a standard war movie. There's very little fighting, only a few explosions. Rather, it's a movie about Marines. What motivates them, who they are, how they act and think.
It takes place mostly in Saudi Arabia in 1990. Swofford's unit has been sent to sit in the desert and wait for the politicians to get done talking, so Desert Storm can begin. You see the stress, the boredom, the juvenile antics of young boys playing war. It will give you a good idea of who is in Iraq right now fighting the latest war.
"Every war is different," the narrator says at the end of the movie. "Every war is the same."
One thing that remains constant, but the general public might not understand very well, is the mind-set of many Marines and soldiers: The desire to kill. And the fear of it.
In the book and the film, Swofford (played onscreen by Jake Gyllenhaal; see story on Page 30) is a reluctant Marine but wants to do well. Eventually, he is drawn into the world of the sniper. This is very specialized stuff. As a standard grunt, he is trained to kill, but it's part of a larger offensive military campaign. As a sniper, he has just one mission: Find an enemy from a great distance and snuff out his life. This is killing in its purest form, and requires the shooter to think long and hard about the consequences of his actions.
His staff sergeant talks about another Marine, Lee Harvey Oswald, who killed a president with a very long rifle shot to the head. "Nothing but pink mist," the sergeant says, referring to the blood and brain matter that fly through the air after a successful shot.
Swofford learns the trade and, eventually, is mesmerized by his power. He's on the rifle range, punching precision holes in a paper target over and over. And thinking to himself, "I want the pink mist."
Later, the war starts, but it's largely a battle fought by air and tanks. Swofford's unit gets into the fight, but just barely. He and his buddy are sent to shoot a couple of high-ranking Iraqis. He has one in his sights. He's ready to squeeze the trigger. And then, the mission is aborted. Mrs. Swofford's son will never have to live with the memory of killing. And he laments this.
"To be a Marine, a true Marine, you must kill," Swofford writes. "With all your training, all of your expertise, if you don't kill you're not a combatant, even if you've been fired at, and so you are not yet a Marine: Receiving fire is easy -- you've either made a mistake or the enemy is better than you, and now you are either lucky or dead, but not a combatant."
Be advised, the language in "Jarhead" is rough. And if you're wondering if it's overplayed or exaggerated, the answer is no. Marines can be the most foul-mouthed human beings on the planet. Somewhat, I think this is a reflection that Marines are bad boys, and bad boys use bad language.
In the film, a Marine tells Swofford, "Welcome to the Suck." That's a word young Marines have used for the Corps since before I was in. Its origins have been lost to time, but it comes from the phrase "F -- the Suck." It's still in use today, but underground. That's not for sound bites.
At the end of the movie, there are several scenes showing what happened to the Marines in Swofford's unit. They're all doing mundane things, like stocking soda pop at the supermarket.
Some will see that and think: happy ending. The Marine has a good job and a good life and need not worry about killing and dying.
Others will be sad. Look how boring his life has become. The warrior without a war.
"Some wars are unavoidable and need well be fought, but this doesn't erase warfare's waste," Swofford writes. "Sorry, we must say to the mothers whose sons will die horribly. This will never end. Sorry."
"Jarhead" (R) opened this weekend at Bay Area theaters.
E-mail John Koopman at jkoopman@sfchronicle. com.