The Drummer Boy of Shiloh Response

In the beginning of the short story, The Drummer Boy of Shiloh by Ray Bradbury, the protagonist Joby was a young man, quietly celebrating his fourteenth birthday in a peach orchard with his drum in between his knees. He is expected to go into battle the next day and Joby is so frightened of fighting an actual battle, a man's war, that he is jerked upright just by the sound of a peach pit falling to the earth. Joby watched the some forty thousand soldiers in the distance night thinking about their heroic deeds in the battle ahead. Joby thought about the soldiers, how they were given guns. No heroism ever occurred without a weapon. Joby wasn't given a rifle. he was given a drum and two sticks. And he would march into battle with the rest of the men but instead of lowering his rifle, he would lower his sticks beat a rhythm and hope for the best. Joby knew his chances were slim in the battle ahead. But he also thought he would die unimportant, he ran away from him just to bang on his drum a few times and die. Joby felt hopeless, as people if we think we're going to die, w want to die for your cause. But to die without knowing you served a purpose in life, that's hard to live with, and to die with. 

Reading this moment in the story made me think about my experience in Mexico when I was eight. I still didn't really know how to swim yet, but I knew well enough to go out into the ocean. So there I was, on the beach in front of my hotel room swimming with my brother. When a surprising current took me off my feet and sent me a few feet backwards. Now, thinking back on this know, I'm pretty sure that this situation was not life threatening. I bet I could have doggy paddled back to where I could stand. But I just remember having a strong feeling that I was going to die, and that I was going to die without having accomplished anything really. I think this is how Joby might have felt, that last instinct of regret, like, I could have changed the world, I could be the next president, but here I am now about to die. Out of all possible feelings, that is probably one of the worst. 

Joby's thoughts about the upcoming day changed around three quarters through the book. The General of the Army is talking to Joby and Joby is listening intently. 
           "You boy, you are the heart of the army. Think about that. You are the heart of the army. Listen to me, now."
           Joby listened, Joby would not die unimportant, he could die, yes. But he would die as the heart of the army. he was the beat. He kept the army going. The hero's always the one who truly sacrifices himself. The one who is willing to die, Joby would go out there and leave himself undefended, so the forty thousand men fighting in the upcoming battle could listen to a beat before they died. Joby was the hero. The feeling was gone. 

E.A.R.L.

"There are so many different extremities in my heart. So much turmoil, animosity, anger. But that is not my heart. My heart is gold. My heart is pure. But because of the fleshy things I go through, my heart and my spirit get compromised. Nothing will ever kill my spirit, but things sure can fuck it up good."
     -Earl Simmons

There have been times in my life that I have felt as if nothing was going my way, and that my esteem, my "spirit" is being hurt. One of these moments was when I was hiking a mountain called Traveller mountain in Maine, I had done 7 out out of the 10 miles in the hike and I was already very tired. I had hurried because of a huge storm cloud right above me. As I was climbing down the mountain, I started to develop a very painful stomach-ache. So, I was staggering along, trying to catch up to the rest of my group when suddenly a huge bolt of lightning struck a tree up the mountain from us. Then, the rain just came down. Harder then I'd ever seen rain before, in huge painful drops. Now, one thing that is strongly recommended in hiking is to avoid hiking downhill in the rain because of the chance of slipping. So there I was, 3 miles away from my campsite, on a steep ridge, with lightning flashing all around me, a torrential rain pouring on me, and a throbbing pain in my stomach. Everything was falling apart. My spirit may not have been dead, but an experience like that "sure can fuck it up good."

E.A.R.L. is the story of a man who has a pure heart, but always does the wrong thing. But he does the right thing once, and becomes the rapper DMX. Earl Simmons is born in the Projects of Yonkers and grows up with an abusive mother and a father who abandoned him. He was expected to be a nobody, a criminal, so that's how he starts out his life. He spends years of his life in prison, writing rhymes and "rap battling" inmates. The time he spends out of prison he robs people and attempts mostly unsuccessfully to make a rapping career. But the more time he spends in prison, the more time he spends not rapping and Earl just watches as people he grew up with, people he knows he's better than at rapping because rich and famous. Earl just needs his chance, but he doesn't get it. And in the meantime, he goes through many "fleshy" things.

Although my story is nothing compared to the many tragedies and catastrophes that Earl has been through, we both have, at a point in their lives felt our hearts and our spirits get compromised. Reading about the sad and inspiring story of DMX, I thought about the times that I've felt like he has in certain stories in the book, hopeless, unlucky, scared and angry. DMX has gone through so much that I think almost anybody can relate to him. That's why I could not stop reading this book, not only because I could relate to him, but I can be thankful for my life reading E.A.R.L.

Jarhead

Once you're part of the Marine Corps, you are, and will always be a Marine, a "Jarhead". Anthony Swofford, an ex-marine wrote about his experiences in The First Gulf War, and how even now, as an aspiring author for the New York Times, is still at heart, a marine. The First Gulf War took place in the deserts of Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan, and to the men who fought there, the desert, the sun, the sand itself was like a disease. It was everywhere, the sand became a part of the soldier's lives. In Jarhead Anthony Swofford tells us how the sand is still in his life, and how the Marines are still one of the biggest parts of his life.

Growing up in a family full of military enthusiasts, Swofford was almost destined to be in the military. His father was in the military, his uncle was in the marines and his grandpa was in the army. So when he joined the Marines at 18, he knew he was doing what he was meant to do. Quickly he was accepted as a sniper. And almost as soon as he felt comfortable in his position he was sent into Afghanistan, to what seemed to be a fight for oil. The Marines in Afghanistan knew less about what was going on in the Gulf War then their families in the United States. All they knew was that the Iraqis were supposed to have mustard gas, and that they were in the desert and that they wouldn't get out until the end of a war. 

This book was intense for me to read because I never really thought about the troubles of a soldier other than the fact that they were at war. This book really taught me that even though we appreciate and love the soldiers of our country because they fight for us, they have other problems too. Including the conditions in which they live in. The fundamentals and the simple fact that they are going to fight soon and may die soon, whether it's tomorrow, or the day after, or maybe even a year from now, is a thought that would be awful to have go through your head. After I read Jarhead, I was very appreciative of my life now. I'm glad that I read it.