I was just talking about how I seem to have travelled to a land of a different age (Ticino, no wifi, you may remember), but who would’ve thought that I would delve into yet another magical realm?
Now, perhaps some of you share my deep fascination with historical happenings, and even if you don’t, there must at least be a certain appreciation for the soldiers and the fighting of World War II (all wars, really).
Regardless; Last Christmas, I found myself watching the BBC series “Band of Brothers” (based on the book) as if my life depended on it. I finished it in one day, and then started right over and watched it all again. It was the first time I had really gotten into it, and there was no going back.
(For those who don’t know: “Band of Brothers” is about Easy Company, 506th Regiment, 101st Airborne in World War II. They were the guys who invaded the Normandy on D-Day, June 6th. For those who don’t know what that means: Wikipedia.)
I then proceeded to binge-watch every WWII movie I could find – Schindler’s List, The Pianist, Saving Private Ryan, and the like – and simultaneously consuming pages and pages of Wikipedia articles – basically just reading, watching, and crying all week. #timeofmylife
at one point i think i was actually crying while explaining to my brother why he absolutely had to do the same – he didn’t seem convinced…for some reason
Well, having just recently been exposed to “La Vita E Bella”, as well as having a surviving Jew visit our school and recount his experience of the war, I decided that a little mid-summer depression would be appropriate, which is what has gotten me where I am now.
I have started reading the book “Band of Brothers”.
And by “started”, I mean I’m half way through and I’ve cried twice, the rest of the time just basking in the bad-ass.
Being close to eighteen years old, this book is making a huge impression. It would at any age, really, but let me explain why:
Most of the enlisted men were only slightly older than all of my guy friends – some the same age – so after watching the series, all I could do in class was sit there, envisioning horrible, tragic deaths for all of my male classmates, bringing myself close to tears (all while in complete silence). I must have looked *mildly* insane, actually.
Reading the book is of course bringing all of these thoughts and emotions back.
So, the sun shines and the flowers bloom and I sit beside a sparkling lake, with mountains in the distance and happy, chattering people surrounding me.
While reading about the terrors of WWII.
And it’s AWESOME.
It brings these people all back to life, and it makes you realize how important all those individual men were, and at the same time, how small you, one person, really are. All of those young men – almost still children, really – deserve to be remembered.
Anywho, this has turned into a bit of a ramble, but I needed to share this with you. You get it, surely.
Come join me in my glorious haze of emotions!