by Ray Burow

Created on: August 26, 2009   Last Updated: March 17, 2010

"War is Hell". This quote has been around since the American Civil war.  It is attributed to Union General William T. Sherman (famous for his march to the sea, and the burning of Savannah and Atlanta) Some would say, 'he would know'. For myself, believing there is an eternal destination for everyone, believing hell to be an authentic place,  and not having been there, and with no desire to go, I can not agree wholeheartedly with General Sherman, 'that war is indeed hell'. However, in the light of human experience, I will agree, on this earth, war is as close to hell as can be imagined.

Only those men and women who have experienced war, with all it's atrocities can make comparisons as to what it is, and is not like. I have known men who loved this country, and served during war time. These men only share the sanitized version of their experience. My father for instance, a Navy man, often talked about the camaraderie he had with his fellow sailors, the theatre in which he served (South Pacific), the ships on which he was deployed, and his deep affection for the Navy. The memory of his, affection for the Navy, renders it impossible for me to sing, or hear sung, the Navy fight song with out weeping. However, if asked about specifics of war, it was with brevity that he spoke. The closest he ever came to sharing the realities of war was in relating this story: "It was a beautiful calm day, on a beach in the South Pacific. The sky was a breathtaking blue, and the sea as always, was stunning. Then, out of the quiet and seemingly out of nowhere, came an unmistakable buzz. Looking up, he could see the vivid orange mark, on the Japanese Zeros, descending on the beach." Then pandemonium...

This particular scene was unpredictable, as I gather are most events of war. It profoundly affected my father. I only know this to be true, in that he had dreams surrounding the attack on the beach. This was long after the war was over. His dreams took him back to the events of war, but not the place of war. He would dream, quite pleasantly at first,of working in his garden. The dream would quickly turn to a nightmare. Hearing a light buzz and looking up, as the noise grew louder, he could see in the distance the hoard of orange spotted Zeros. In his dream the Zero's no longer descended upon  a sandy beach in the South Pacific.They were descending over the green mountain on which our home was situated. He would awaken with a start, having begun his run for the house

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