Lost at War

Hump: to carry a heavy object with great difficulty. “To carry something was to hump it… [to hump] implied burdens far beyond the intransitive” (O’Brien 3). It would be much harder to name the things these soldiers didn’t carry; whether it be their guns, fear, bibles, good luck charms, or simply themselves, these soldiers in The Things They Carried are never without burden. They will always bear the tremendous weight of all the things they hump, during and after war. Most significantly, they carry the weight of their guilt, each other, and the burden of surviving.

The presence of guilt in The Things They Carried is not always clear, but it is extremely important within the stories. Throughout the novel, the reader sees the many different ways each character processes, copes, and carries their feelings of guilt. For example, guilt is represented through dehumanization when Mitchell Sanders, Henry Dobbins, and Norman Bowker find the body of a young Vietnamese boy: “There was no blood. Smiling, he kicked the boy’s head, watched the flies scatter” (O’Brien 13). In this line, the reader recognizes a severe lack of morality among the men as they see this dead body. Of course, a normal person’s reaction to a body would not be to kick it, but rather show sympathy towards the person who had lost their life; however, this lack of sympathy is simply how the characters cope with their feelings of guilt. To them, this body is their enemy and they should be glad he is dead; kicking the boy’s head is a way to dehumanize him. It makes the life of the boy less important, less significant, along with their feelings of guilt. Another example of guilt is given after the death of Kiowa; however, in this example, the soldiers are unable to make their feelings of guilt insignificant. Rather than each character refusing blame, they each find a way to claim fault for Kiowa’s death. After making jokes about Kiowa’s death, as Azar normally does to cope with his guilt, he says to Norman Bowker, “‘I felt sort of guilty almost… Like it was my fault,’” to which Norman replies, “‘Nobody’s fault, everybody’s’” (O’Brien 168). In this line, the reader understands the depth of their guilt. It’s so strong that they pinpoint insignificant actions that could have caused this death and pain; for Azar, his jokes cause Kiowa to die. In Norman’s response, the reader is able to recognize that everyone’s guilt places blame on themselves; but at the same time, there are so many things to blame that the soldiers can’t blame just one thing. This example not only shows the soldier’s guilt, but also their love for one another. Unfortunately, this love translates into another thing they must carry. 

The soldier’s love and sense of brotherhood forces them to carry the weight of each other; both physical and emotional. They carry the weight of protecting, caring, entertaining, and loving one another. For example, Dave Jensen and Lee Strunk make a pact with each other “that if one of them should ever get totally fucked up – a wheelchair wound – the other guy would automatically find a way to end it” (O’ Brien 62). In this line, Jensen and Strunk are picking up the responsibility of one another; they’re choosing to protect the other from an unwanted future; they’re carrying that weight. Later in that chapter, Strunk’s leg is blown off and Jensen is hit with the decision of killing his friend, or letting him live a life he wished he wouldn’t; this places the weight of Strunk’s life in Jensen’s hands. Fortunately, for Jensen, Strunk dies and this is described as relieving Jensen of “an enormous weight” (O’Brien 63). Now that his friend has died, Jensen doesn’t have to hump the weight of him any longer. Another example of this weight is when the soldiers are looking for Kiowa’s body in the shit field. After a long while when the group begins to give up on finding the body, Mitchell Sanders says, “‘Move it’… ‘Kiowas waiting on us’” (O’Brien 160). Now, not only do the soldiers carry the weight of their guilt for Kiowa’s death, but they now carry the weight and responsibility of finding him and returning him home. This translates to their original weight of protecting and caring for each other; they feel such tremendous guilt for Kiowa’s death because it was their job to protect him. They were supposed to hump the weight of his life, and now they must carry the weight of his death. Some soldiers, although happy they’re not dead, now also carry the guilt of living while Kiowa died; they carry the burden of surviving. 

While at war the objective is to live, many of the soldiers experienced guilt for surviving, and resentment for the dead. The soldiers have to carry the weight of survival. They dreamed of being able to leave the war, by any means necessary; whether that be “shooting off their own toes or fingers” (O’Brien 21), or death. “They dreamed of freedom birds… They were flying. The weights fell off; there was nothing to bear… They were naked, they were light and free” (O’Brien 21). Here the reader sees a description of being able to escape the war. One is able to understand the things they bear while being alive in war through the ‘weights that fall off.’ Another example of the soldiers carrying the burden of survival is when O’Brien describes the feelings of a young soldier after Kiowa’s death. “He’d lost everything. He’d lost Kiowa and his weapon and his flashlight… He remembered this. He remembered wondering if he could lose himself too” (O’Brien 164). Here, the reader sees the young soldier wondering if he can be lost to the war, too, just as everything else had been. One is able to understand all the emotions he has to endure and carry if he is to stay alive, and sane, at war, and the kinds of thoughts that this weight causes him to have. If these soldiers are not lost at war, then they have to carry this weight with them forever. The reader sees the impact of this later on in the book with Norman Bowker. Norman’s life after war is nothing short of torturous. He is unable to process the things he went through during the war, and is unable to find a new, rightful place in society afterwards. He writes to O’Brien saying, “The thing is… there’s no place to go. Not just in this lousy little town. In general. My life, I mean. It’s almost like I got killed over in Nam… Hard to describe” (O’Brien 150). From this, one can understand how lost Norman truly is; how tremendously his experience at war separated him from normal life. He is utterly unable to live a normal life. The weight of every emotion he carries with him during and after war, only extended by the weight of his survival, eventually pushed him to hang himself. Without an outlet for all the things he carries, the weight of everything is far too much for him, and he can no longer hump it. 

“They’re unable to share this weight, describe this weight, or get rid of it. The soldiers hump. They’ll carry those heavy objects with great difficulty until they no longer can.”

Each soldier represented in this novel experiences a struggle of finding a vent for the emotions they carry; however, some find an escape in the act of storytelling. As seen before, Norman is unable to release his anxieties and burdens resulting in the only escape he can find: death. In the novel, Norman fantasizes about telling people of his pains. He imagines telling his father, his neighbors, and eventually, almost tells a drive-through worker. In these moments, the reader recognizes the volcano of emotions building up inside Norman as he pushes his emotions deeper down. If he could have found a way to tell his story, he may have survived the pressure of his weight, but, eventually, as all volcanoes do, he erupted. One of the only characters that finds an outlet for his weight is Tim O’Brien. He finds his escape through storytelling, through telling his daughter, his wife, and us, the readers. Storytelling is his companion, a friend that shares his burdens; the most important kind of friend. The Things They Carried is a novel about the physical and emotional weight that a group of soldiers carry with them throughout their time at war, and far after. They carry the expected: guns, rations, bombs, fear, and courage; but they also carry the unexpected: pantyhose, tranquilizers, The New Testament, and a sling shot. Most importantly, they carry their guilt, each other, and the weight of survival. The soldiers live the rest of their lives with a weight that is unknown to billions. They’re unable to share this weight, describe this weight, or get rid of it. The soldiers hump. They’ll carry those heavy objects with great difficulty until they no longer can.