Honolulu Weekly

Veterans of War, Veterans of Peace, edited by Maxine Hong Kingston, is not the kind of book to pick up casually and try to read through in a single sitting. I would read a little, pause, stop, put it down–feel, think and come back later.

The 600-page book comprises nonfiction, poems and fiction from the Veterans’ Writing Group, which first formed in the early 1990s, during the first Gulf War. About 30 people–never the same people–attend the community writing sessions. During its dozen years there have been more than 500 participants.

Award-winning author Kingston moved to Hawai’i during the Vietnam War, where she lived for nearly two decades. She still has family in Honolulu and visits the Islands regularly. Earlier this year, Kingston was featured at Honolulu’s first annual Hawai’i Book and Music Festival, where she and 16 vets read from the book. Veterans of War, Veterans of Peace collects the work of 80 veterans spanning five wars. Unfortunately, the book is timely, as the war drums grow louder.

Maui-based publisher Koa Books published Veterans of War, Veterans of Peace. It previously published peace Mom Cindy Sheehan’s Not One More Mother’s Son. Koa Books publishes works on personal transformation, progressive politics and native cultures. Among its pending titles is one by Col. (retired) Ann Wright, Dissent in a Democracy, with Susan Dixon.

I’ve heard some of the stories in the anthology before, but like a good song, they are worth hearing again. For example, though I heard the punch line to Clare Morris’ humorous poem ‘Regulations’ when she read it at the Hawai’i Book Festival in April, I still laughed–even louder this time. And what diversity among the writers–combat vets, a window washer, a Red Cross worker, a judge, physicians, deserters, survivors, a retired West Pointer, filmmakers, people with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder–all between the same covers. Don’t expect agreement, but rather a variety of thought, feeling and form. In addition to those from the United States, some were born in Vietnam, Cambodia and Israel.

There are many ways to read a book. I began reading this one through the biographies of its authors. Rather than the usual sketchy few-line bios trying to impress the reader, many of these bios are a few paragraphs long and full of various feelings, including humility and deep personal reflection.

Then I read Kingston’s brief, compelling introduction titled ‘Tell the Truth, and So Make Peace.’ This book looks at the realities of war as seen through the eyes of those who experienced it directly. ‘All my life, I have wanted to keep soldiers safe from war,’ she begins the book. Kingston describes what has happened during the group’s ongoing life, ‘The veterans needed to write. They would write the unspeakable. Processing chaos through story and poem, the writer shapes and forms experience, and thereby, I believe, changes the past and remakes the existing world. The writer becomes a new person after every story, every poem; and if the art is very good, perhaps the reader is changed, too.’

Kingston also describes how the group’s understanding of veteran evolved, ‘As the writers became skilled in knowing others’ points of view, they enlarged the definition of veteran. A veteran could be a woman; a veteran could be a deserter; a veteran could be a civilian who had served in war; a veteran could have been a member of a street gang; a veteran could be a survivor of domestic violence; a veteran could be a peace activist. All manner of persons identified themselves as veterans and came to join the regulars, who argued for a while, then let every one belong. Wars affect all of our lives.’

Then I skipped some 600 pages to get to the book’s last entry, ‘The Veteran Writers’ Group,’ by Michael Wong, whose story of desertion from the Army during Vietnam appears earlier in the book. Wong also appears in the documentary Sir! No Sir!, about GI resistance to the Vietnam War, as does the book’s Keith Mather. Wong’s description of the process of the group provides a helpful context for understanding the intervening pages that are so full of painful and loving words: ‘Much healing has occurred. Healing is a never-ending process, and together we continue to find new insights and deeper levels of healing.’

Michael Parmeley writes about memory. He is in a hospital on crutches after being shot in the leg and sees a Vietnamese man, ‘The face I am remembering now, the face looking at me from behind the strands of barbed-wire, I probably never really saw. Memory is like that. It adds things, takes things away. It has its own reality, its own standards, and its own truth.’ After the war, Parmeley returns to Vietnam. Many of the combat vets in this book report going back to Vietnam after the war.

Veterans, and other Americans, have a lot to grieve about these days. Doing such grief work can be instrumental to the creation of a lasting peace, which I believe is still possible. Grief and its expressions can be pathways to healing and joy. Studies reveal that those who experience trauma and then join groups to talk about it have better recovery rates and are more likely to transform their wounds into gifts.

Disclosure: Shepherd Bliss’s work is featured in Veterans of War, Veterans of Peace.