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A review by ssindc
Helmet for My Pillow: From Parris Island to the Pacific by Robert Leckie
5.0
Wish I'd read this earlier - many, many years ago. It's a wonderful book about one individual Marine's (rifleman's) experience in WWII. The entire book is worthwhile, but I found I was particularly fascinated and enamored by the lengthy passage recalling the Marines' extraordinary efforts during the Guadalcanal campaign. Great stuff!
OK, OK, it's not light reading, and it's a WWII memoir - it's brutal and sad and graphic and poignant and, all too often, frightening and depressing. My guess is the reason the book stood the test of time is that the author, before he enlisted (and paid a, um, steep price of admission for doing so), he was a writer/reporter/journalist. The book is extremely well constructed, the prose is tight, the descriptions are vivid, and the voice comes across, nay resonates, as extremely genuine.
One of the most intriguing aspects of the book is how consistently the author keeps the first person narrative bounded by personal experience. This is one Marine's experience and, with a minor exception in the conclusion (which, frankly, did not move me as much as many other passages in the book), the author rarely broadens the perspective. In other words, it's not intended as a grand or all-encompassing history, it's a memoir, and an effective, convincing, and compelling one. I admit that (personally), I was least amused by the author's (and his colleagues) liberty (or leave) experiences, particularly with regard to the great debauch. But full points to the author for chronicling his missteps, transgressions, and failures in addition to his finest hours, his learning curve, the monotony and frustration of service, the transcendence of battlefield friend/companionship, anger, hunger, and, yes, his fear and discomfort and despair.
One can't help but compare this (much older) work with the relatively recent (and sublime) fictional (but not entirely fictional) Vietnam bestseller and award winner, Matterhorn, which I've heard folks describe as a GoPro/helmet-cam tour of Vietnam (before GoPro/helmet-cams were invented).... Part of me is inclined to re-read Matterhorn for comparison's sake ... but I won't - alas, too many books, never enough time....
One theme that it hard to ignore in the book is the element of sacrifice, and - for my money - here is where the author is most eloquent, whether speaking of the issue directly or indirectly. Jaded as the author may have been (or have become), it's still a different time and place and culture than ... well ... war in the new Millennium, particularly in Iraq and Afghanistan. There's very little in this book in common with the popular recent books about (overnight celebrity) Navy SEALs or snipers or ... or ... even the excellent vignettes by embedded reporters such as Finkel's excellent work in The Good Soldiers or Thank You For Your Service. It's not just a different time and place. It's a different voice and culture and worldview and .... Well, you'll have to decide for yourself.
A terrible tale told by a talented writer. There's a reason some books stand the test of time. This is a good reminder of (or introduction to) our ancestor's service and sacrifice. Well worth reading.
OK, OK, it's not light reading, and it's a WWII memoir - it's brutal and sad and graphic and poignant and, all too often, frightening and depressing. My guess is the reason the book stood the test of time is that the author, before he enlisted (and paid a, um, steep price of admission for doing so), he was a writer/reporter/journalist. The book is extremely well constructed, the prose is tight, the descriptions are vivid, and the voice comes across, nay resonates, as extremely genuine.
One of the most intriguing aspects of the book is how consistently the author keeps the first person narrative bounded by personal experience. This is one Marine's experience and, with a minor exception in the conclusion (which, frankly, did not move me as much as many other passages in the book), the author rarely broadens the perspective. In other words, it's not intended as a grand or all-encompassing history, it's a memoir, and an effective, convincing, and compelling one. I admit that (personally), I was least amused by the author's (and his colleagues) liberty (or leave) experiences, particularly with regard to the great debauch. But full points to the author for chronicling his missteps, transgressions, and failures in addition to his finest hours, his learning curve, the monotony and frustration of service, the transcendence of battlefield friend/companionship, anger, hunger, and, yes, his fear and discomfort and despair.
One can't help but compare this (much older) work with the relatively recent (and sublime) fictional (but not entirely fictional) Vietnam bestseller and award winner, Matterhorn, which I've heard folks describe as a GoPro/helmet-cam tour of Vietnam (before GoPro/helmet-cams were invented).... Part of me is inclined to re-read Matterhorn for comparison's sake ... but I won't - alas, too many books, never enough time....
One theme that it hard to ignore in the book is the element of sacrifice, and - for my money - here is where the author is most eloquent, whether speaking of the issue directly or indirectly. Jaded as the author may have been (or have become), it's still a different time and place and culture than ... well ... war in the new Millennium, particularly in Iraq and Afghanistan. There's very little in this book in common with the popular recent books about (overnight celebrity) Navy SEALs or snipers or ... or ... even the excellent vignettes by embedded reporters such as Finkel's excellent work in The Good Soldiers or Thank You For Your Service. It's not just a different time and place. It's a different voice and culture and worldview and .... Well, you'll have to decide for yourself.
A terrible tale told by a talented writer. There's a reason some books stand the test of time. This is a good reminder of (or introduction to) our ancestor's service and sacrifice. Well worth reading.