Prior to enlisting in the Marines, Robert Leckie was a reporter. This would be his start in writing, and it served him well. This book is incredibly well written, especially given the subject matter that is being discussed. There is a poetic flavour about it with a rich base in the characters that we are introduced to. They are called by their nicknames which also gives this a somewhat personable feel. It puts you front and centre in the life of a Marine. Not just any marine, but one that boot-camped at Parris Island, and fought at Pelelui and Guadalcanal. One that lived every day as if it were to be his last when on shore leave in Melbourne and the horror of ending up in a psych ward on Pavuvu.
If you compared this book to “With the Old Breed” there is a notable difference in style. Eugene Sledge used his experiences and portrayed then thoughtfully and simply, through his words, often examining morality. Robert Leckies style approaches the experiences in a different way. He is profane, and not afraid to show through his writing the bitter hatred for enemies and his own officers. From the morality of each situation to lack of sensitivity towards death, Robert Leckie writes with an underlying brilliance in the way that he describes the varying events they all faced.
In his book, Leckie talks of “stealing a case of beer” from a tavern. We follow closely with theft of oranges. Dead Japanese soldiers are stripped for memrobillia and Leckie cheers on his friend who took items from retreating infantryman. More episodes of food theft, a couple of AWOL episodes and a faked illness to avoid more combat duty. Robert Leckie was a ‘tester of boundaries.’ His plan comes across that he was trying to see how far he could push it, how far he could go before he got thrown in the brig again.
From a Marines perspective, from any soldiers perspective, the only good war is one you come home from. Leckie suffered throughout the war and while he portrays this well, he questions whether those who died or those who lived suffered the most?
The epilogue of Helmet for my Pillow is moving. Robert Leckie said, “I, whom you have seen as irreverent and irreligious, now pray in the name of Chuckler and Hoosier and Runner, in the name of Smoothface, Gentlemen, Amish, and Oakstump, Ivy-League and Big-Picture, in the name of all those who suffered in the jungles and on the beaches, from Anzio to Normandy–and in the name of the immolated: of Texan, Rutherford, Chicken, Loudmouth, of the Artist and White-Man, Souvenirs and Racehorse, Dreadnought and Commando–of all these and the others, dear Father, forgive us for that awful cloud.”
That awful cloud was Hiroshima. There does seem to be a lack of comprehension for Robert Leckie surrounding the use of the Atomic Bomb. A bloody invasion and round-the-clock conventional bombing would have led to a far higher death toll and longer war. The atomic weapons actually saved thousands of American and millions of Japanese lives. The bombs were the best means to bring about unconditional surrender, which is what the US leaders wanted.
The book overall, well written with a poetic undertone. It is written so well and with such clarity, that you sometimes question whether he lived through these experiences.
The text is written with an honesty. No flowery language, just a straight down the line honesty, that is refreshing to see. Robert Leckie freely talks of his shortcomings and failures. He freely talks of his behaviours that got him time in the brig.
A very different book to “With the Old Breed” by Eugene Sledge, but one that is equally worth reading.
