The Colors and Textures of War

I have been reading a book about pharmacists and pharmacy tents in W W II, watching a bit of the documentary on Viet Nam on PBS, watching a movie about the sinking of the Indianapolis in W W II, and then the finding of the ship Indianapolis on PBS. My thoughts have turned to war, a hard topic. So I am going to write down a bit of my rambling thoughts today.

Colors of War

• The GRAY of rain dripping off the rim of a helmet, rain blocking out the forms of hills, mountains and valleys, rain pouring onto tanks, guns, ship decks and tents, muffling everything and everyone.
• The BROWN of mud squelching up over boots of marching soldiers, the sand and rocks of beaches under bombardment and of foot lockers, locked.
• The khaki GREEN of uniforms, clean or dirty, the rusted metal of gun turrets, hand grenades whistling silently through the air, gas masks, and sloppy food.
• The deep RED of bloody wounds, tongues hanging out of screaming faces, dripping blood, the Red Cross crosses on white tents, and sunsets through the smoke.
• The SILVER of heroic medals, of officers stripes, of bullets piercing, of bombs dropping from silver enemy planes, and ocean swells topped with navy cruisers.
• The YELLOW of another sunrise, a nurses curls, flashes of lightening, or a stray flower in the dirt and grimy mud.
• The BLUE of dress uniforms, ink on endless paperwork, the wink of a blue eye, or the calm in the storm.

Textures of War

• The SHARPNESS of shrapnel, the corners of mess trays, of Sargent's barking orders, the edges of torn off limbs, bugle notes piercing the darkness of morning, barbed wire topped walls, and the taste of fear.
• The ROUGHNESS of rocks being scaled, of a thin wool blanket, of choppy seas and heaving stomachs, of crawling on bellies in the dirt and flying blind through thunderstorms. 
• The WETNESS of tears, of a puddle in the bottom of a foxhole, the rain drumming on tent tops, wading ashore, and never having dry feet.
• The SOFTNESS of a hand clasp or a salute, free moments to write home, sucking mud in the the bottom of trenches, wet clothes, marching through snow and canned green peas.
• The CROSS HATCH of confusion, exhaustion, moral turmoils, disrespect, fear, blind orders, singing, comradeship, buddies dying, loyalty, principals and duty.
• The SMOOTHNESS of a flag lifting in a breeze, a swallow of brandy, a team effort, a bomb being released or the arc of a shell in the sky. Smooth decisions handed down from politicians and officers, and smooth words from home to soften hardened hearts.

Thanks for listening to me release some of my pent up thoughts. Is there any answer to war? Many people much wiser than I have never reached a conclusion. May God have mercy on us.