Helmet for My Pillow: From Parris Island to the Pacific

I watched ‘The Pacific’ a few years ago and was very impressed with it. I enjoyed the initial episodes then found the last few harrowing (as befits the subject matter). Soon afterwards I read one of the memoirs on which it is based, [b:With the Old Breed: At Peleliu and Okinawa|771332|With the Old Breed At Peleliu and Okinawa|Eugene B. Sledge|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1297640051s/771332.jpg|757389] by Eugene Sledge. This is the other, by Robert Leckie. I was fascinated by the differences between the two accounts, which were knitted together very neatly in the TV series. Sledge’s title refers to the professional, old school soldiers he met and admired during the war. Although Sledge experienced as many horrors as Leckie in show more the Pacific theatre, he emphasises the importance of the brotherhood between soldiers, supporting each other through intolerable conditions, and deeply respects his commanding officers. Leckie, by contrast, is contemptuous of his commanders and considerably less rule-abiding. Like Sledge he has a group of particular friends, although in Leckie’s case they seem to be the troublemakers. This made for an interesting and entertaining contrast. Leckie gets sent to the brig several times, put on bread and water, and once goes through court martial. On the other hand, the similarities between the two experiences are the appalling conditions and amazing bravery.

I liked Leckie’s writing style, which is conversational but sometimes falls into reverie. The narrative is sprinkled about evenly with classical allusions and absurd anecdotes that undermine the dignity of all involved. Delightfully, these are sometimes combined: ‘Like Achilles, the Artist sulked in his tent.’ (Everyone is referred to by a nickname.) The descriptions of actual battle are dwelt on perhaps less than I remember from Sledge’s book, but are just as vividly horrible. Leckie also mentions the natives of the Pacific island being viciously fought over, which as I recall neither Sledge’s book or ‘The Pacific’ really did. The snippets of colonialism in the midst of war were striking. Indeed, the whole book is readable and engrossing. A much more jaded view than Sledge’s, but an excellent complement to it. I only give it three stars instead of four because I would have appreciated it more if I'd read it sooner. I'm not in such a war memoir mood these days. show less

Leckie’s memoir of his experiences in the Pacific campaign of WW2 is one my favorite memoirs. Why? Because it is so well written. His vivid descriptions of combat impress on the reader a true sense of reality, of being there in that foxhole.

“I think of Judgment Day. I think of Götterdämmerung; I think of the stars exploding, of the planets going off like fireworks; I think of a volcano; I think of a roaring and an energy unbelievable; I think, of holocaust; and again I think of night reeling from a thousand scarlet slashes and I see the red eye of hell winking in her wounds—I think of all these, and I cannot tell you what I have seen, the terrible spectacle I witnessed from that hillside.”

Leckie's emotional descriptions and show more writing style, rather than the storyline, are the primary reasons for my 5 star review. This is not your everyday ghost-written war memoir, describing a litany of deeds written in essay style. Leckie lyrically emphasizes his objection to war, maybe not realized while experienced, but certainly at the time of writing.

The Epilogue poignantly describes Leckie's experience of the end of the war in the pacific and is asking us the question if the end really justified the means: Leckie answers in his final sentence, "... dear Father, forgive us for that awful cloud." show less

Parris Island, Guadalcanal, Pavuvu, and Peleliu covered Leckie's career in the Marine Corps. For many in the First Marines, the two battles spanned their lives as well as their careers. For those that see glory in battle and war; this book should be required reading. Before the US got its logistics in place, marines were eating Japanese rice and drinking gasoline-fouled water from metal containers. Guadalcanal was necessary but Peleliu should have been, like Rabaul, isolated and ignored. Macarthur insisted, Nimitz, acquiesced and thousands of marines died.

From time to time someone writes a war memoir that is self-glorifying drivel. Those memoirs are worthless. Of the others, there really is no way to say that one is any more "true" than another as an account of military history; after all, they are not histories, they are personal narratives, and 100 people in the same place at the same time will have 100 unique experiences and interpretations of it.

With that said, I found that Leckie's memoir rang truer to my own experience of service and combat than any other war memoir I have read. Leckie's insights reflected a co-incidence of interests between me and him, and a commonality of how we interpreted much of what we have seen. The "polite deprecation" of civilians toward soldiers; the show more significance and pervasiveness of caste within the military structure; the counterintuitive value of "brig-rats" railing against that caste system; and simultaneously the disgust with those in the higher castes who, upon hearing the "shibboleth" of intellect, show pity toward you for the misfortune of serving in the infantry.

That life is full of contradictions--anger against the separation of classes, but pride in knowing oneself fit to be peers with the brass, yet choosing to be a private in the line. Having more in common with officers than with your fellow enlisted-men, yet looking down upon those officers for the weakness of moral character evidenced by their needing the privileges of rank.

And these ironies: excuses. All contradictory. All self-protective. All self-serving. All rationalizations. Most self-deceiving. But without them, how could one function in that world? show less

Newspaper reporter’s narrative of his life in the Marines during WWII, which is a lot more boredom and hunger than terror, though there is a fair amount of horror and death. Also a lot of racism; “Japs” is the only word ever used for the Japanese, and the various indigenous people of the Pacific appear as mostly silent and/or ridiculous, plus there’s the Southern racist whose charming quirk is how much he hates black people, but you had to like him anyway because “you” was a bunch of white guys. Takeaway: it’s possible to be a sharp observer of certain white/military foibles without being reflective in other ways.

Well written account by a Marine in 1st Division who was present until wounded on Peleliu. It is not always pleasant or feel good in nature, which is appropriate for the subject matter. He was not a conformist and had a temper which lands him in the brig, which makes this account a bit more unique. The confusion and chaos that was the Pacific campaign is brought home painfully. There is a fair amount of bitterness in his story which I dont begrudge but do mention for those looking for a more light or heroic tale. Reccommended reading, especially for those interested in the Pacific campaign.

Another library sale find, HELMET FOR MY PILLOW (2010 reprint edition) Robert Leckie's memoir of his time In the Marines in the Pacific Theater of WWII, immediately caught my eye because it's a book I remember being passed around between a group of high school classmates my senior year of high school (1961-62). And these were guys who hated school and normally didn't do ANY extracurricular reading. And four of those guys dropped out of school before graduation and enlisted in the Marine Corps. That's how influential this book was, and maybe still is. It was first published in 1957, and has, I think, remained in print ever since in various editions. Leskie, an award-winning newspaperman and writer, was a machine gunner and scout with the show more First Marines and fought in Guadalcanal, after which he enjoyed a rowdy R&R in Melbourne, made stops in New Guinea, New Britain and Goodenough Island, then fought in the bloody battle for Peleliu, before being invalided home for a severe case of shell shock. A Catholic boy from New Jersey, Leckie tells his story vividly, from Boot Camp at Parris Island all the way to a rehab hospital in West Virginia. Leckie wrote dozens of other books, mostly war histories, including books for YA readers.. He died in 2001. HELMET is a good book, a classic of the Second World War, and a valuable addition to my war lit collection. Very highly recommended.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the Cold War memoir, SOLDIER BOY: AT PLAY IN THE ASA show less