A Rumor of War: A Trauma in Three Acts

I wish the cover was a bit more understated, but it's pretty unassuming regardless. The only thing that would clue you into this wild ride would be the phrase "Classic Vietnam War Memoir".

Earlier last week I managed to finish Philip Caputo's iconic 1977 memoir of his experiences of the Vietnam War called A Rumor of War, and while harrowing and not terribly surprising, I found it to be a thoroughly enlightening experience. I generally don't read non-fiction (though I'm working to rectify that) and this also was required for a history class, so the odds of me liking this were a tossup. Hell, the only reason I opened it was both out of boredom and because I was reminded by my professor, but I was hooked (to use the worn-out phrase). It paints an image of contrasting naivety and bitterness, exhaustion and vigor, and heroism mixed with black rage all within the internal experience of the author. There's definitely something uncomfortable about being so close to the author by reading this, and it makes the war even more disturbing than it already was, but without further ado let's get into this before I sound like a recipe for someone's mother's salsa I saw on the internet.

To start with, A Rumor of War is divided into roughly three sections with each covering (in sequential order) his position in the United States Marine Corps during his sixteen month tour in Vietnam during 1965. While each deals with much of the same themes central to the American involvement in the war, they each have their own emphases on various aspects with accompanying energy conditions and mental states of Caputo and his cohorts (if that makes any sense). Part one is the most lucid, with a particular focus on Caputo's naïveté and misguided patriotism, if you could even call it that (his driving motivation to join the USMC was to not appear to his parents as a failure). It covers a bit of his backstory, his marine training, and his first few months in Vietnam. It's here where Caputo is simultaneously the most human and impressionable, yet the most contemptible in his ignorance. This goes without saying, but this is coming from my own modern perspective, and to be truthful my attitude towards Caputo is more leaning on pity than contempt, yet contempt from me is there. Part two covers his stint as a desk officer in the back of the lines, and it's here where Caputo starts to truly crack. He describes and experiences some of the more dehumanizing and futile aspects of the war, primarily the obsession with mortality and casualties embodied in the 'Kill Count'. Caputo is put in charge of keeping this tally so he frequently has to go among the dead and wounded on both sides so he can fill out paperwork identifying them before going back to update the tally. It clearly takes a toll on him, and it's also where we see the narrative speed up, as the days whizz by. Increasingly Caputo is less affected by the absurdity of his place and life and more bothered by just how bored he is. Atrocities are discussed for a few sentences, and the fates of some of his squadmates are touched upon, but altogether Caputo is losing it. Hell, a reasonable chunk of the section is devoted to a rest period in Danang, and the most notable thing Caputo finds about it is that he's perturbed that he has no reason to worry about being shot at. Part three covers the final months of his deployment, where out of boredom Caputo requests to be reassigned to a line company. It's the hardest section to read, not only due to how disturbing it is, but also due to how disjointed and unconnected everything seems. Caputo at this point still seems pretty grounded (compared to some members of his group), but he's definitely somewhat unhinged, thinking in allegories and easily distracted. It was also here, at the end of the third part, where I found the book to be at its best. Throughout there's this permitting feeling of overwhelming exhaustion, that the only reason the author continues to exist is out of habit. This iconic montage of Caputo's memories that acts like a disorienting sensory overload of brutality also features. As it progresses, there's this increasing feeling of tension that eventually transforms and explodes into cold, murderous fury, which is doubly disturbing since Caputo is usually in the role of the one preventing these crimes. The war hasn't changed much, but Caputo has, and even as he's given signs and admonishments from the universe (an old man pleading with him in broken English, asking "Why? Why?" as the man's house burns, his superiors yelling at him to get his squad back in order, etc.), it takes being directly called into account for his conduct for him to return to reality. However, he manages to escape justice, and is shortly after discharged as his tour is over, and outside of the epilogue it is here were the book ends, with a broken man being allowed to return home, his innocence gone and hope a strange notion. Part three then made me reflect on how I felt about Caputo, sure he was reasonably intelligent and good-natured, but he also thought and did terrible things, giving into his impulses. Though I remained judgmental towards his initially naive and incurious attitude in regards to patriotism and the actuality of what was happening around him, I gradually felt more and more compassion towards him (I felt pretty guilty to be fully honest). It was easy to judge him based off of the jaded outlook I have on the very values he held unquestioningly, but even then he didn't deserve what he experienced. Hell, I don't think that really anyone deserved to experience the Vietnam War. If there was any serious takeaway to be gleaned from this harrowing tale, it would be that war, especially modern and guerrilla warfare, is inherently dehumanizing and traumatic. Trauma can be born, but in this case it's more often developed, and Caputo's trauma was one of inches and millimeters.

A Rumor of War is a strange book. Though it's written as an autobiography, it's more of a spiritual/emotional book than a simple memoir. Yes, it describes the Vietnam War and certain events in detail, but what it truly excels at is giving you a glimpse at the mental state of a simple marine, and ironically by the end I found Caputo infinitely more personable despite my initial distain for him. Even though it's hardly a pleasant read, I'd most certainly recommend this to anyone so they can better understand the stresses of war. It managed at its release to change the views of countless Americans, and even today it has resonance despite our world no longer being so rode-colored and self-assured. Truly a tragedy in three acts that's worth a look.

Up next, it's something that kicked up a bunch of controversy a while back, and in a first the studio actually listened to the fans before it bombed at the box office, leading to an interesting experiment. I'm talking about Sonic the Hedgehog, oh boy.