Colonel Mike of the Marine Corps, before going to bed every night, goes to the Internet to check the list of soldiers killed in the Iraq War. Pray not to see anyone I know well. One morning he walked into the general's office and asked to escort the body of Private Chancellor home. The general reminds you that you are a senior officer. Mike said, this 19-year-old child, and I come from the same town. I didn't go to the field, hoping to do it for him.
This story of body escort struck me with the power of extraordinary simplicity. Almost every shot in the movie is saying the same thing. Respect for the deceased and their remains. In the military mortuary, countless staff members cleaned the blood-stained relics again and again. Especially a black female officer, after cleaning Chance's hands, a pair of black, female living hands rested on the white and limp hands of the deceased. This is one of the hundreds of shots that struck me.
Although the funeral ceremonies are closed coffins, relatives will only see the photos of the remains, not the remains with their own eyes. But for this photo of the fallen soldier, this country really spared no expense. What is more precious is that there are countless people who are committed to one person's remains. No, not to Chance's body, but to the deeds of his life, and to his undead soul. There is an elaborate detail, the officer responsible for dispatching the escort, handed Mike two flags. He said that because Chance's parents were divorced, they had to be given to them separately.
As a military escort, Colonel Mack had medals on his chest and spanned more than half of the United States. At airports, restaurants, warehouses, and stations, the military salutes are slowly raised and lowered again and again to greet each loading of the remains. At the turn of the plane, the porters gathered around to salute Chance with Mike. Over Philadelphia, a flight attendant crouched down, woke him gently, and placed a cross in his palm. Everyone seems to know what these escort officers do. On another flight, a stylish girl sat next to him and texted a friend that the officer next to him was handsome. After arriving, the captain broadcasted that we also had a fallen soldier on board, please stay in your seats and let the escort get off the plane first. The girl turned her head and said to Mike with sudden motherhood, "I'm sorry." Mike stood at the luggage loading bay and slowly raised his hand again, all the passengers stopped and paid tribute to Chance who was lying forever. He lost his life in a war they identified or didn't identify with. But what is precious is that now he has been sent back to his hometown like a prince who died.
In Japan's "The Undertaker", the meticulous repair of the corpse is out of a pantheistic reverence for life. The undertaker stood by the river and saw the salmon swimming back and dying on the way. That scene pointed out the director's philosophical background. Unlike Escort Chance, every shot affirms one thing, which is the responsibility of the entire country to the dead. After giving the relic to Chance's parents, Colonel Mack said, 'I must let you know that along the way, countless people have paid tribute to your children.
The most precious thing is that it all happened. Mike is on his way back, filling out an escort report. Perhaps because he was a colonel, he didn't want to be as formulaic as a junior officer. He crossed out the word "report" and changed the title to "Escort Chance," and wrote down the respect that countless Americans showed to the dead. The story then circulated online and was made into a documentary last year, which was nominated for an Oscar for Best Documentary. This year, it was remade and nominated for the Best Jury Award at the Saint Denis Film Festival.
Those who died for us deserve to be treated this way. It's not about whether the battle should be fought or not, whether it's worth your child's death. Because a person's death is worth remembering or not, it has nothing to do with whether he is worth dying for. There is at least one thing that deserves our respect, and that is death itself. A person uses his own death to send us a letter of feathers, even if some of us have gone, we will finally go.
In other words, the dead are actually for us. And those who go, always have something to do with us. Last summer, a volunteer came back from Mianyang and brought me a photo of a crayon drawing of a little girl named Wang Yi in the Kyushu Gymnasium. At that moment, I, like Mike, couldn't help but think it had something to do with me. Then online, I found a picture of the survivor. A year later, like Mike, I searched the Internet for the list of students who died in the earthquake. Until I saw another little boy named Wang Yi, the second grader of Jiulong Central Primary School in Jiulong Town, Mianzhu.
In 1993, Solzhenitsyn had been in exile for 20 years. On the eve of his return to China, he spoke to a Russian reporter. The general idea is that we must honor the dead. Without remembrance, the history of the people does not exist.
But how do I escort the little boy Wang Yi? In this life, we have few people to escort, and many people to commemorate, so much that we can only give each person a few seconds. The absurdity of life lies not in death, but in the living, who cannot commit themselves to those who need to be remembered. That's why other people's deaths don't move me. Only those with hyperlinks to me whose death is closer to me. In other words, our relatives and our links are visible. A fellow countryman, a person with the same name, and we can also click on each other. But other people and our links are often invisible. If you can't see it, you can't see it, it's always a convenient, materialistic excuse.
The Colonel escorted Chance and had a strong heart that he didn't feel like a soldier sitting in an office. Seeing a 19-year-old fellow countryman die, he felt a sense of guilt, as if Chance had died for him. Mike thinks that he can't bear the warmth of his family. He is used to returning home and hugging his wife and children. His fear of losing it all outweighed his commitment to his position. This was his potential motivation to pursue a civilian career after his promotion in the Gulf War. In the face of the death of his colleagues, Mike could not find the legitimacy of his own existence. In this sense, when he slowly salutes Chance in front of countless ordinary citizens, he regains the confirmation of his military status. This is why he insisted on not taking off his military uniform and medals at the airport security checkpoint.
What we do, if meaningful, means having a home, more than a home on earth. Otherwise, all ideals and careers will essentially conflict with our responsibilities to the family. There must also be a kind of blood relatives above the blood relatives on earth; there must be a kind of brethren above the brethren on earth; there must be an invisible link above the visible link. Otherwise, when you say "there are brothers in the four seas" and "blood is thicker than water", it is not a dream that cannot be realized, but is actually a lie to coax us to die.
Whether it's an 8-year-old boy or his own parents, I didn't bring you here, and I can't bring you home. I cannot save, only accompany. This morning, my mother and I were crossing the road, and a car came without conscience, ignoring the red light. I stood in the way, reached out and motioned for him to stop. I suddenly thought of Tan Zhuo in Hangzhou, walking in his prime, when he was hit by a speeding car and died on the zebra crossing. At that moment, my outstretched hand stopped in the air for about two seconds. I silently prayed to the God of heaven in my heart, and took my gesture as the military salute that Mike slowly raised in the movie.
2009-5-25People
Weekly, for the 20th anniversary.
Note: After reading this film and this article, I remember a lot of things...about the dead...about the living...reposted here.
Original address: http://www.tianya.cn/publicforum/content/books/1/120576.shtml
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