Sunday, February 6, 2011
I think this not wanting to know, this fooling oneself into thinking "Well, war's bad, but it's not that bad" is how we seem to fall into war so easily. Yes, it is bad. But it is so much worse than we allow ourselves to think about. It's almost a protective coating we apply to our psyche that disallows us to fully empathize with the radical suffering everyone experienced--continues to experience. Because if we did, if we allowed our minds to go there, we're not sure we'd have the strength or conviction or hope to go on. How these people managed to retain the will to survive still remains inexplicable to me.
And yet I will persevere through the story, because, after all, they did. It's really the least we can do, we that have been fortunate enough to remain at a comfortably great distance from such battles and their aftermaths. I'm learning a lot more about the Pacific front of WWII than I ever knew before. Most education about that time period focuses on Europe, the Nazis, and the horrors of the concentration camps. Of course we learn about the atomic bombs that ended the war, but it's never really fully explained why, and why they felt such measures necessary. It's becoming slightly clearer. Apparently such inhumane barbarities were carried out in the eastern hemisphere as well. It really is so much worse than I ever let myself imagine before.