They do indeed. Ask any VN vet about their first impressions of the place upon entry, and I'm guessing 9 of 10 will mention 'the stench of burning shit.' It's certainly mine. We had to burn our waste products, alas the smell I encountered stepping off the airplane at Bien Hoa on March 17th 1970. Besides that, burning jet fuel, beer, cordite on freshly created landing zones, Marlboro cigarettes, the reek of GIs we extracted from the bush after their 30-day time there. The worst was the sickening-sweet stench of the dead in body bags in the tropic heat. I recently smelled a dead animal outside our house, and it took me back instantly to a mission to pick up two KIAs who'd been in bags in the jungle for three days and we couldn't get to them. I was sick for a day or two after that, the smell all but overwhelming.
I hope it was insensitive of me to ask, Byron. My question was prompted by lines in your poem and by a reading of Angel Down by Daniel Kraus, a unique novel about World War I, which brings us right down into the trenches with sights, sounds, and smells. Thank you.
Unfortunately, COVID played hell with my sense of smell, except for the other night. We had an incredible rainstorm here in NYC last weekend. Tropical. Wrath of God. The smell of the rain was overpowering and reminded me of storms growing up in the Midwest. Sometimes when I cook, I can be reminded of my mother, especially if I bake bread.
If I might poke my nose in, Byron & Jeff, of the 5 senses we have smell is one that brings it all back & immediately.
Why? Smells trigger memories so vividly because they have a uniquely direct pathway to the brain's emotional and memory centers. It's direct brain connection. I'm sure some evolutionary purpose.
Melissa might be able to speak to this better: the Proust effect & the neuroscience of olfaction.
When I teach story classes I've used certain smells (ground coffee, ground peppermint candies, sage, cinnamon ......) to get my students opening their memory troves & begin to write.
Your work takes sitting with, Byron. The images haunt me - not because they bring war front & center - but because they bring the men & women who were called to fight that insane war right into my heart.
The staccato nature of your poetry - quick, sharp, bursts of sound - revs up the imagery even while we sense monsoons, sodden ground & the muck suck of boots.
Byron, I'm curious if certain smells take you back there.
They do indeed. Ask any VN vet about their first impressions of the place upon entry, and I'm guessing 9 of 10 will mention 'the stench of burning shit.' It's certainly mine. We had to burn our waste products, alas the smell I encountered stepping off the airplane at Bien Hoa on March 17th 1970. Besides that, burning jet fuel, beer, cordite on freshly created landing zones, Marlboro cigarettes, the reek of GIs we extracted from the bush after their 30-day time there. The worst was the sickening-sweet stench of the dead in body bags in the tropic heat. I recently smelled a dead animal outside our house, and it took me back instantly to a mission to pick up two KIAs who'd been in bags in the jungle for three days and we couldn't get to them. I was sick for a day or two after that, the smell all but overwhelming.
I hope it was insensitive of me to ask, Byron. My question was prompted by lines in your poem and by a reading of Angel Down by Daniel Kraus, a unique novel about World War I, which brings us right down into the trenches with sights, sounds, and smells. Thank you.
Guess I'll be adding Angel Down to my reading list. Your question made me wonder if smell is what we best remember of almost any experience?
Unfortunately, COVID played hell with my sense of smell, except for the other night. We had an incredible rainstorm here in NYC last weekend. Tropical. Wrath of God. The smell of the rain was overpowering and reminded me of storms growing up in the Midwest. Sometimes when I cook, I can be reminded of my mother, especially if I bake bread.
If I might poke my nose in, Byron & Jeff, of the 5 senses we have smell is one that brings it all back & immediately.
Why? Smells trigger memories so vividly because they have a uniquely direct pathway to the brain's emotional and memory centers. It's direct brain connection. I'm sure some evolutionary purpose.
Melissa might be able to speak to this better: the Proust effect & the neuroscience of olfaction.
When I teach story classes I've used certain smells (ground coffee, ground peppermint candies, sage, cinnamon ......) to get my students opening their memory troves & begin to write.
Explains a lot. Thanks for 'poking your nose' in it! Hah!
I've also been thinking of the style of your poetry
The staccato nature reminds me of the whop-whop-whop of helo blades spinning
At least that's the background music I hear.
Your work takes sitting with, Byron. The images haunt me - not because they bring war front & center - but because they bring the men & women who were called to fight that insane war right into my heart.
The staccato nature of your poetry - quick, sharp, bursts of sound - revs up the imagery even while we sense monsoons, sodden ground & the muck suck of boots.