Unit 6. Post 3.

APO 96225 by Larry Rottmann.

"'Please don't write such depressing letters'" (Rottmann, 846).

I can relate to this in some way. My great uncle was a pilot in the Vietnam War and when I was younger, I would ask him what it was like to go to war. He would tell me that he got to fly over the forests and look at the canopy. Being the little kid, I took this at face value and did not press with my questioning. As I grew older and became interested again in my great uncle's past, I once again asked what he did in Vietnam. Since I was older, I felt that it was within my power to press further if I was met with resistance. No such resistance came forth. Instead, honesty. Complete, horrifying honesty. From his description of what it was like to drop napalm and agent orange over acres of forest, I was saddened. In ways, I wanted to ask him to stop, just as the father did in the poem, because truth was upsetting. But, because I needed the reality check, since I am considering joining the Marines, I listened intently to his wisdom and was moved and came away from my conversation with my Great Uncle with more understanding and clearer judgment as to what joining the armed forces meant for my soul.

The main point of this poem is that the truth of witnessing or performing some unspeakable act can destroy your relationships with family or loved ones. How withholding the truth is a way of keeping ties to those you love still in tact, and how keeping that truth concealed can bare heavily on ones conscious.

Remember, the truth is not always what we want to hear.