That's a good point, Scott. I agree. With a soldier's training
ingrained in the recesses of his mind, actions become impulses that
need no conscious thought to be triggered, only danger and the threat
of danger. The price of hesitation in war is death, as bullets travel
in straight lines from barrel to flesh in mere milliseconds. There is
simply no time to think, and besides, as O'Brien says, "there were no
thoughts about killing" (127). One of the core tenets of any military
is having the discipline to execute orders without question, something
that does not lend itself very well to critical thought. When actions
are impulses that are triggered and fired, the soldier cannot think
about the lives he takes, he cannot form personalities or aspirations
for the enemies that he must fight because to do so is to humanize
them, and to kill a human is murder. The soldiers in Vietnam weren't
killing people; they were killing gooks. At least, as they were taught
by their training.
O'Brien was the worst kind of soldier because he had the capacity
for empathy, and I'm sure that many other soldiers felt like he did -
stunned to speechlessness - when they first killed an enemy. Some
soldiers, such as Kiowa, suspended belief in order to survive, but
others seemed to have taken pleasure in killing, to have "laid him
[enemies] out like Shredded f'in Wheat" (119). Kiowa attempts to
rationalize O'Brien's killing of the young man by telling him that
"it's a war. The guy wasn't Heidi - he had a weapon, right?" (120).
O'Brien does not forgive himself. In his description of the young
man's life, from his childhood, to his love of mathematics, to his
fear of violence, to how he met his wife, to how he died on that trail
one foggy morning outside the village of My Khe by a grenade, O'Brien
made the man he killed a person. Someone he knows, someone he could
meet on the street and pass and say hello. Decades after the fact, he
could still the man in his mind "pass within a few yards of me and
suddenly smile at some secret thought and then continue up the
trail..." as if he had never killed him (128).