It's a difficult film to watch, not in that it is bloody and grisly (the directors took care to not exploit images of the dead), but because of the constant fear in the soldier's eyes. Brave fear, none the less.
The soldiers of the Second Platoon, B Company, 2nd Battalion, 503rd Infantry Regiment were sleepless and daily under fire with at least 4 or 5 fire fights a day for the year long deployment as they built outpost RESTREPO in the Korengal Valley of Afghanistan.
Forgive me if I get overly emotional as I write this. Regardless of my political view of the war and our purpose, I have total respect for these soldiers and for the film makers Junger and Hetherington.
This film doesn’t drive a political agenda, nor do the soldiers ever talk about their political beliefs. They are too preoccupied with surviving. This film is about the men who risk their lives for our country at this outpost.
Stationed in the Korengal Valley in Afghanistan - considered the deadliest spot in the war until April 2010, when the post was scrapped just over a year after deployment. Soon into the campaign they lose one of their men, PFC Juan Restrepo. Under Sgt. Dan Kearny’s command, they pushed forward into the valley some 500 meters (?) up a hill to build a new outpost, a “middle finger” to the inhabitants of the valley. This entailed men running everything – all equipment, all tools, building materials, water, and food – up the mountain on foot, daily, through enemy territory - the Taliban occasionally opening fire on them as they did so. They named it RESTREPO after their fallen friend.
What this film makes me question is how are we dealing with these soldiers when they come back? How do we ensure their emotional stability and re-introduce them to civilian life? At one point in the movie after a firefight, Sgt. Steiner is talking to Sebastian Junger holding the camera, he says, “Big firefight, big rounds. That was fun though. You can’t get a better high. Better than crack. You do skydive, bungee jump or kayak but being shot at you really can’t come down from it. You can’t top that.” Sebastian asks him, “How are you going to go back to the civilian world then?” Steiner pauses and says forlornly, “I have no idea.”
Even back at the Italian base as the soldiers discuss their experiences, you see how far these men went and how they will never be the same. They grapple with what they saw, what they lost and who they are now and how that will work back in civilian society. One soldier, Cortez, so young, describes his nightmares and how he can’t sleep because of them even with being on 4 or 5 different types of sleeping pills. He speaks all the while with a sweet smile on his face; the innocence of a young man trying to make it alright for us and for himself.
Another soldier says he still hasn’t dealt with it “inside” himself. He says his only hope is that he can process it differently. Staff Sergeant McDonough, particularly, has the intensity of a man you aren’t sure which way his fear and rage could turn. In truth, these are all good men, average men, enlisted from all across America to support our country. There is nothing super hero about them, there is no affected bravado. They are not professional mercenaries. They are men, some even boys. McDonough, with his piercing eyes, says, “They are gathering intel right now…on how to deal with us. Because there is no real intel on how to treat us right now. Because they haven’t had to deal with people like us since World War II and Vietnam – guys coming back from 15 month deployment that went through as much fighting as we went through.” He wants help. He needs help.
And even more importantly how do we repay them for the sacrifices they made for their country? What jobs will they being coming back to when return home to the new America of 13.7 million unemployed? What will happen to these men and women after they return to civilian society? Who will seek help? Who will help them? Whose lives will be destroyed?
I can’t help but feel that America is already turning their back on our war and our soldiers. Last year a fictional film, The Hurt Locker, won best film at the Oscars. The least we could have done was award the real men of the real story of RESTREPO.
The tale of a soldier’s plight is nothing new, but these are our soldiers for our time. They are part of us and we owe them, at the very least, our respect for the dignity of their sacrifices.
Sometimes there is so much coming at me, it is hard to stay in touch with myself and how it makes feel. I've been juggling, what seems, an inordinate amount of personal dilemmas for the past 3 months and in that same time the world has seemed to have exploded. From the shooting of Giffords, Wisconsin's labor protest to Tunisia, Egypt, Libya and Japan's tsunami and nuclear meltdown. And the earth actually slowing down! The world is on fire.
