Unlikely 2.0


   [an error occurred while processing this directive]


Editors' Notes

Maria Damon and Michelle Greenblatt
Jim Leftwich and Michelle Greenblatt
Sheila E. Murphy and Michelle Greenblatt

A Visual Conversation on Michelle Greenblatt's ASHES AND SEEDS with Stephen Harrison, Monika Mori | MOO, Jonathan Penton and Michelle Greenblatt

Letters for Michelle: with work by Jukka-Pekka Kervinen, Jeffrey Side, Larry Goodell, mark hartenbach, Charles J. Butler, Alexandria Bryan and Brian Kovich

Visual Poetry by Reed Altemus
Poetry by Glen Armstrong
Poetry by Lana Bella
A Eulogic Poem by John M. Bennett
Elegic Poetry by John M. Bennett
Poetry by Wendy Taylor Carlisle
A Eulogy by Vincent A. Cellucci
Poetry by Vincent A. Cellucci
Poetry by Joel Chace
A Spoken Word Poem and Visual Art by K.R. Copeland
A Eulogy by Alan Fyfe
Poetry by Win Harms
Poetry by Carolyn Hembree
Poetry by Cindy Hochman
A Eulogy by Steffen Horstmann
A Eulogic Poem by Dylan Krieger
An Elegic Poem by Dylan Krieger
Visual Art by Donna Kuhn
Poetry by Louise Landes Levi
Poetry by Jim Lineberger
Poetry by Dennis Mahagin
Poetry by Peter Marra
A Eulogy by Frankie Metro
A Song by Alexis Moon and Jonathan Penton
Poetry by Jay Passer
A Eulogy by Jonathan Penton
Visual Poetry by Anne Elezabeth Pluto and Bryson Dean-Gauthier
Visual Art by Marthe Reed
A Eulogy by Gabriel Ricard
Poetry by Alison Ross
A Short Movie by Bernd Sauermann
Poetry by Christopher Shipman
A Spoken Word Poem by Larissa Shmailo
A Eulogic Poem by Jay Sizemore
Elegic Poetry by Jay Sizemore
Poetry by Felino A. Soriano
Visual Art by Jamie Stoneman
Poetry by Ray Succre
Poetry by Yuriy Tarnawsky
A Song by Marc Vincenz


Join our Facebook group!

Join our mailing list!


Print this article


My War Story
by Wayne Scheer

A man who thinks of himself as a writer should have at least one good war story in his collection. It should be filled with heroes, action and, most important, a moral lesson. At the heart of a good war story is moral conflict, but the deciding factors that make the hero heroic should involve personal valor. But I grew up in the sixties, and my war was a "conflict" in Vietnam.

I guess I could make up a coming of age story about a young man who, although disillusioned by the horrors of war, discovers a hero within. The war may cost him a limb, but he's left to live his life knowing that he acted honorably. This story might take place during the Tet Offensive. The hero, a young man looking for adventure, joins the Army and is sent to Vietnam where, high on marijuana and booze, he accidentally shoots himself in the leg during a battle. His leg throbbing with pain, scared and confused, he hides in a bunker while watching his buddies being shot and killed.

Finally, tears streaming from his eyes and blood dripping from his leg, he can stand the pain no longer and launches a single-handed attack on the enemy position and manages to save the rest of his platoon from certain death. He loses his leg, but gains the respect of his buddies and a medal for bravery. No one knows the true source of his injury, nor his personal demons, and he discovers it doesn't matter: for the only difference between the hero and the coward is that the hero is too scared to think.

Or I could try a tender love story between a tough American soldier and an innocent Vietnamese teenager whose family was killed by American troops when they mistook the family for Viet Cong …. Maybe a story about an angry black man who, in the midst of battle, learns to trust his white buddies and love his country …. How about a woman's story about a nurse, not allowed in combat, who grabs a gun and protects her patients from a North Vietnamese attack?

No. Vietnam doesn't lend itself to glory and inspiration.

Maybe I could tell a story from my own war experience. After all, mine is a coming of age story, filled with moral conflict and lessons learned. However, it's decidedly short on personal valor.

I'll call the main character Will Squires, twenty-two and recently married, who moves away from home for the first time in his life. He's trying to learn how to live with a woman, prepare for a teaching career, and become a good man. As a student, he identifies with the antiwar movement, but is too concerned with the pressures of a new marriage to be involved. The story might interject contemporary quotation - "I won't be the first American president to lose a war," "There's light at the end of the tunnel," "We absolutely have no troops in Cambodia, Laos, or Thailand," "I have a secret plan to end the war" - with Will's attempts to find truth and meaning in his own life.

The story begins with President Johnson denying student deferments - over half a million troops are in Vietnam and the government needs more warm bodies fast - and while working on his Master's degree in American Civilization, Will receives his draft notice. He tries a variety of delaying tactics, including applying as a conscientious objector. He asks for alternative service in the Peace Corps, but is denied because Selective Service has priority. Will is allowed to complete the academic year but must report for Basic Training August 20, 1969, ironically the two-year anniversary of his marriage.

"What do we do now?" his wife asks?

"I don't know."

His father, a World War II veteran, sees Will's situation clearly. "Your country needs you. A man meets his obligations."

But Will doesn't believe his country or the American way of life is endangered by North Vietnam. In fact, he sees the United States as embarrassing itself and betraying its values in the undeclared war in Vietnam.

Is Will obligated to follow orders blindly or should he defy them out of a love for the ideals of the nation?

Or is Will just a spoiled kid afraid to die?

He ponders his choices. "We could go to Canada," his wife suggests. But Will knows how close she is to her family and how close he is to his. He doesn't believe their marriage or family bonds could stand the strain.

He could refuse the draft and go to jail. Will sees this as a noble gesture, but realizes he doesn't have the courage of his convictions. Quite simply, he's afraid. Instead, he chooses the easiest and, in his mind, the most cowardly alternative. He accepts the draft.

After a small anniversary party given to him and his wife by friends, he rides a bus to Ft. Bliss in El Paso, Texas.

Will struggles through Basic Training, trying desperately to retain his identity and not become a soldier. After basic, he, like almost all the trainees, is sent to prepare for infantry training. Will finds himself in Ft. Bragg, North Carolina, home of the Green Berets. There, he demonstrates a talent that likely saves his life: Will can type. He spends the war stateside as a company clerk.

The story jumps forward to Memorial Day 2004. Will Squires, middle-aged and less conflicted than he was at twenty-two, refuses to acknowledge that he was a veteran during a ceremony at his country club.

His wife understands.

E-mail this article

Wayne Scheer retired after teaching writing and literature in college for twenty-five years to follow his own advice and write. His stories have appeared in a variety of venues, including Thought magazine, Artella, Flash Me Magazine, Slow Trains and Naked Humorists. In 2002, he was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Wayne lives in Atlanta with his wife and can be contacted at wvscheer@aol.com.