Randall Jarrell's two poems The Gunner and Death of the Ball Turret Gunner are two poems that came out of World War II. The position of gunner was acknowledged to be the most dangerous one in a plane. Also, the space was small and cramped, the man had to be small, and he was an open target in his plexiglass bubble.
These two poems were written ten years apart. Interestingly, the first one published in 1945 is a bald telling of what happened. The one published ten years later deals with questions, though couched in provocative and figurative language. Each, though, questions the right of the State to take away a life in this manner. Each regretting the shortness of life and wondering "Is this all there is?"
I react to these two viscerally. The author was born the same year my father was, my father served in World War II, fortunately, as a chaplain, so he was not in such a precarious position. The author bewails the youth lost, and I remember what my father reported as the common wisdom: "There old pilots, and there are bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots." Youth does not know any better....and as Winston Churchill said "Young men fight old men's wars." Sad, but true.
I really like the two of these, and it left me with that same question that you have posed in your blog above, "Is this all there is?" It really hit home when he asks if his medals were sent home to his cat, and if there was a pension to take care of his wife. A young man that served his country bravely will only be remembered by his wife and his cat. That seems the way it is, we see on the news every day about soldiers dying and I honestly do not remember them. I also like the way he likened the Ball Turret to that of the womb. One keeps a developing child safe, and the other protecting the sky. A grown man in a cramped space manning a gun spinning in different directions to take out enemy fighters. I really would have liked to see the two of these combined. I liked them both, but I could see them being pieced together making some really good reading.
ReplyDeleteI would have to agree with some of Casey's statements on this. From the poem's these young men get swept up into war with no thought really. It's just something you do. Now your in a small bubble attached to a plane and a gun in front of you. Then you die. At first I was really upset by the fact the writer was so nonchalant about this death. I guess it's the way you look at it. Shouldn't it be up to the person that died to be able to look back and be like.. ya i died. When compared with years of sorrow and pain. This is a very calm and collected way to go about it. Love it very different out look on life.
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