Power Boy, by Cory Walker
I think the question you’re asking is why is there not enough nudity in your real life
THEY ARE MAKING FUN OF EACH OTHER TOGETHER IT HURTS ME
Recording the new episode of Podcast in the Woods.
"So that ended my life as a civilian employee, and became the property of Uncle Sam G.I., a dog face. So now when anybody that don’t like me or just for the hack of it tell me to go to hell, I don’t mind as I have already gone to hell and back…"
I read an autobiography an old neighbor of mine wrote before he died. His name is Abel Telles and he was a retired postal worker who was drafted to fight in World War II at a young age. He was my neighbor up until the age of seventeen. We’d only ever conversed if we happened to see each other outside, separated by our chain-link fence. Our conversations were always brief and never really deep or highly personal but they were always friendly. At the time I knew he was a war veteran, but with his soft, happy demeanor you’d never have guessed. He was always so kind to my family, even giving us a large paper bag of figs from his fig tree quite often. The only detail of his past stent in the war was that he received a Purple Heart, which was a medal awarded to soldiers who were wounded or killed while serving.
It’s crazy to me, after reading this book, that someone could stay as humble and friendly after experiencing what he did.
He describes what it was like. How soldiers were just put on planes and boats and not told where they were going. How the battlefield was brutal and unforgiving on both sides. He describes his reaction to seeing a mutilated body for the first time. He reminisces about the time shrapnel hit both of his legs and being told by a fellow soldier as he was laying down, wounded, bleeding and unable to stand:
“…’you have a million dollar wound soldier, but there are no medic’s so if you want to lay low or try to work your way back you decide’ and with that he was gone which I don’t blame him as everybody was vulnerable for his last day on earth.”He recalls having to force himself to move across two open fields to avoid gun fire. Eventually laying down behind a dead cow carcass. Bleeding out and drinking from his canteen as he came to terms with his predicament. He laid there until he was finally seen and rescued by a friendly tank unit.
It’s a first hand account of what war was like to soldiers on the front lines. It’s also interesting to read his views on humanity towards the end of the book. Relating humans and their violence to big game hunters, reflecting on the term beasts and animals, how those terms should be used to describe humans. A lot of them lacking true compassion and love.
He imagines a life after death. He envisions himself arriving at the pearly gates with his dog by his side, not getting let in and just sitting outside the gates watching his wife from afar on the other side.
People may make comments about war, but they all seem futile when you’ve heard or read about it from people who experienced it first hand. I’ll always remember Abel not only as that sociable, nice neighbor, but someone who I have come to respect even more.