Sitting in the Flames, CHAPTER TWO: Immersed in the Myth and Experience of War
In the “Gripping Hands” section of the Spring 2015 issue of the West Point magazine, a brief article about a Class of 2004 graduate reads,
Captain William N. Eberle receives Distinguished Service Cross
For his courage and gallantry while in close combat with insurgent forces during an attack at Jalalabad Airfield in the Nangarhar province of Afghanistan, Captain William N. Eberle ’04, a commander with 3rd Special Forces Group, received the Distinguished Service Cross on February 10, 2015 at a ceremony held at Fort Bragg, North Carolina.
Presenting the Distinguished Service Cross to Eberle, General Joseph Votel ’80, commanding general of U.S. Special Operations Command, said, “His actions that day epitomize determination to defeat an overwhelming enemy force, compassion for his teammates in harm’s way and valor for his courage to act in the face of danger.”
First awarded during World War I, the Distinguished Service Cross is second only to the Medal of Honor for extraordinary heroism and risk of life in actual combat with an armed enemy force.
Upon receiving the impressive honor, Eberle downplayed the attention saying, “This medal belongs to my team, and the honor for me is to represent the 3rd Special Forces Group”.
Que Son, Vietnam introduced the first hostile bullets that were directed my way: we were on a daylight patrol when two Viet Cong in black pajamas opened fire from our direct front. This was a fear laden encounter, survival instincts kicked-in and my head ducked automatically. However, this initial fear seemed to pass very quickly once there was awareness that the first burst of fire had been survived. The Viet Cong fled, and we neither saw nor heard from them during the remainder of the patrol.
Reflecting on this initial story about the reality of being a target for bullets, there are numerous stories one can tell about the experience of war; and each time a story is told, it is never the same because one’s experience of the times and places change. Who doesn’t want to be a hero? Who doesn’t want to have a “best seller”? My experience has been that the general content of the story remains fairly consistent; however, one’s emotional reaction to the circumstances seems to change because one’s current state of being is dynamic. Combat veterans may have a self-created “shadow side” and are at times said to create stories. Yes, experience suggests they do create stories and for myriad reasons: ego, fear, deluded knowledge, change, psychological transition and transformation, and any number of other reasons caused from not knowing the absolute truth that existed at the time an experience occurred. However, combat veterans have experienced the myth and the addiction of war, and their decorations and stories about their experiences may help future generations think straight about the perils of armed conflict and of the resolution of differences with armed violence. During a healing retreat for Vietnam War combat veterans, Thich Nhat Hanh stated,
You veterans are the light at the tip of the candle. You burn hot. You have the ability through your experience to help in the transformation of the world, to transform the violence, to transform the hate, to transform the despair. You need to talk…The non-veterans need to listen. The veterans deserve to be understood. To understand someone, you need to place yourself in his (her) skin. (Kotler, 1996, Engaged Buddhist Reader, Berkeley, CA. Paralax)
Sharing experiences of war does offer priceless information concerning the trauma of war, and these stories may help combat veterans, and others, become aware that war can be a heady narcotic, can be an addiction and a mistaken way to resolve differences. And yet, many of us may choose aggression to resolve differences because as human beings we may be fundamentally blinded by the tortures of fear, desire, envy, anger, pride and jealousy.
Why write Sitting in the Flames?
After retirement in 1993, bowling felt like a really neat activity for a new senior citizen. Three leagues per week, coupled with 40-50 games of practice per week, moved the average to 208. When the average peaked, burn-out and boredom arrived; and bowling was no longer fun. This triggered the search to discover a key to re-spark an interest in bowling and produce a higher bowling average. Competitive bowling was soon to fade from the journey; and sports literature became the menu.
Some of the literature included: Body Mind Mastery: Creating Success in Sport and Life by Dan Millman; Sacred Hoops: Spiritual Lessons of a Hardwood Warrior by Phil Jackson; The Warrior Within: The philosophies of Bruce Lee to better understand the world around you and achieve a rewarding life by John Little; and The Art of Happiness: A Handbook for Living by His holiness the Dalai Lama and Howard C. Cutler, M.D.
What did the reading uncover? My athletic experiences were absent a link between the body and the mind. It appeared that the literature was offering that connected breathing might be the bridge between the physical and mental-emotional bodies, with an added benefit of improved performance in sport and perhaps even life. In one of the many books associated with connected breathing, Naropa Institute was mentioned as an academic institution where the student could learn to meditate. Little did I realize that Naropa Institute, now Naropa University, was located in Boulder, Colorado, a 30 minute commute from home in Arvada, Colorado. Starting in 2001, I was to spend three years in the contemplative environment at Naropa University studying meditation and the five wisdom traditions. This three years re-directed and may have saved my life; and added meditation practice to my daily ritual.
Sitting in the Flames was sparked during a Spiritual Models of Social Action class at Naropa University. Under the leadership of Dr. Judith Simmer-Brown, we were studying Martin Luther King, Jr., Sulak Sivaraska, a Thai social activist, Gandhi and Tich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk. One day Dr. Simmer-Brown brought a book to class, placed it on her desk, pointed to the book, looked at me and said, “John, you need to read this book.” The title of the book was War is a Force that Gives Us Meaning by Chris Hedges, at the time a journalist for the “New York Times” and a professor at Princeton University. This book, complimented by the study and inspiration of Thich Nhat Hanh and his spiritual partner Chan Kong, gave rise to re-visiting, through study, reflection papers and sitting meditation, my two years of combat during the Vietnam War. These reflection papers became quite therapeutic and became the genesis of Sitting in the Flames when it occurred one day that perhaps sharing my experiences with finding freedom from the residual pangs of emotional chaos associated with combat, may help others who suffer from similar trauma associated with the reality of war.