Chapter Four
From Carer to Combatant:
Women‟s Tales of the Wars without Frontlines
There are no women in the artillery, no women in the infantry… So people conclude that girls don‟t do combat zones… We are Marines. We are Military Police… We carry weapons – and we use them.1
Williams, Love My Rifle More Than You
In much twentieth-century war literature, women have been largely posited as civilians in the occupied country, wives and girlfriends on the home front, or nurses and carers in military field hospitals. Narratives written by both men and women emphasise the gulf between the male soldier in the combat zone and the woman at home, and frequently reinforce the notion that women were distanced from the reality of warfare.2 Indeed, observing women‟s inability to understand the war experience that their lovers had been through, Vera Brittain asserted in 1933 that war could place „a barrier of indescribable experience between men and the women they loved‟.3 Although the Vietnam War and Gulf conflict saw a significant increase in the number of women assuming senior roles in the US military, the notion articulated in Bobbie Ann Mason‟s In Country that „Women weren‟t over there... so they can‟t really understand‟4 has been perpetuated through much twentieth century war literature.
1 Kayla Williams, Love My Rifle More Than You: Young, Female and in the US Army (London: Phoenix, 2006), pp. 15-6.
2 For example, Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises (New York: Charles Scribner‟s Sons, 1926), and Tim O‟Brien The Things They Carried (London: Flamingo, 1991).
3 Vera Brittain, Testament of Youth (London: Virago, 1979), p. 143.
4 Bobbie Ann Mason, In Country (New York: Harper Collins, 1985), p. 107.
In the Gulf War, advances in military technology produced a conflict which was largely fought by air and remote weaponry, enabling some women to be deployed in combat roles such as pilots or Navy officers. Despite the fact that they were not in the midst of the combat zone, these female troops lived in fear of NBC attacks. The few Gulf War narratives authored by women are indicative of the shift in the way that war is fought and the importance of technology in bringing women into the warzone.
In addition to the advances in military technology, the later conflict in 2003 witnessed a high level of interaction with the Iraqi people which led to increased demand for personnel in Military Intelligence roles (of which women comprised almost one third).5 Consequently, the Iraq War saw a greater presence of female American soldiers on the battlefield than in any previous conflict with one in seven military personnel being female.6 Due to the guerrilla nature of the conflict and the consequential dissolution of a stable frontline, female soldiers routinely found themselves in the combat zone, engaging with the local people in both peaceful and combative capacities. As a result, more women have been killed or wounded in the Iraq War than any previous US conflict. In a report for Congress published in 2008, it was reported that 2.3 per cent of Operation Iraqi Freedom and 2.7 per cent of Operation Enduring Freedom fatalities were women.7 Consequently, the Iraq War signals a shift in the way that American women write about war; for the first time, they write not from the home front or as nurses, but rather they document their experiences of ground war: firing at the enemy, raiding Iraqi homes, and actively participating in interrogations.8
5 Williams, Love My Rifle More Than You, p. 16.
6 Wertheimer, „Wounded in War: The Women Serving in Iraq‟,NPR, 14 March 2005
<http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4534450> [accessed 25 June 2010].
7 Hannah Fischer, „Congressional Research Service Report for Congress: “United States Military Casualty Statistics: Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom”‟, Information Research Specialist Knowledge Services Group, 18 March 2008
<http://www.dtic.mil/cgi-bin/GetTRDoc?Location=U2&doc=GetTRDoc.pdf&AD=ADA498363> [accessed 2 June 2010], p. 2.
8 It should be noted that narratives such as Kim Ponders‟ Gulf War novel The Art of Uncontrolled Flight (2005) have explored the idea of women at war, but depict women as pilots rather than engaged in face-to-face combat.
This chapter explores the ways in which the unique circumstances of the Gulf War and the Iraq War have impacted on the body of women‟s war narratives to emerge from these conflicts. It specifically focuses on how these narratives signal a shift in women‟s war writing and offer new perspectives on women‟s experiences of contemporary warfare. In particular, this chapter explores how these narratives problematise some of the cultural commentaries on the “feminisation” of war which were explored in the previous chapter. These narratives raise crucial questions regarding the impact of the Gulf and Iraq wars on the women involved and the different ways in which technological advances have enabled these women to offer new kinds of war narratives. This chapter pays particular attention to Ponders‟ Gulf War narrative, The Art of Uncontrolled Flight and Williams‟ Iraq War memoir, Love My Rifle More Than You. It also examines how oral history narratives (which have enjoyed a revival in recent years with the advent of audio, video, and digital technologies) can offer new ways for women to communicate their experiences of war. It specifically focuses on the Gulf War narrative of Commander Darlene Iskra (US Navy), and the Iraq War accounts of Specialist Krystyna Kalski (Military Police) and Lieutenant Commander Holly Harrison (Coast Guard).
Women at the Peripheries: Male Representations of Women and War
The role of women in Gulf War texts is frequently one of absence, with a notable lack of female central protagonists. This is also the case with many Iraq War narratives, however, since literary responses to the Iraq War genre are, thus far, dominated by memoirs, authors have a lesser scope for artistic license so only discuss women soldiers if they actually served with them. Since the Gulf War has inspired a proportionately greater number of novels, the opportunity is open to these authors to represent some of the increasing numbers of women who were deployed to the Gulf. Although women feature at the peripheries of some Gulf War texts, male-authored narratives tend to reinforce the concept of the combat zone as an
exclusively male domain. Writers such as Swofford and Huebner omit female characters from the warzone entirely, situating female characters firmly in the US. Others, such as Paine, Burruss, and Blinn introduce a select few female characters who appear in the texts in order to fulfil specific functions in the narrative rather than featuring as central characters.
Whilst Iraqi women are notably absent from Gulf War texts, providing a contemporary image of Gayatri Spivak‟s notion of the doubly-silenced subaltern,9 the reader encounters examples of Kuwaiti women who conform to Edward Said‟s exoticised “other”10 in both Paine‟s and Burruss‟ novels. These authors construct images of sexualised and independent women, and in doing so, they posit them against the invisible Iraqi women who are consequentially constructed as de-sexualised and oppressed. In Paine‟s The Pearl of Kuwait, the only women that Paine‟s characters encounter are Kuwaiti women. The only acknowledgement of American or Western women is a brief reference to Carmichael‟s ex-girlfriend. The most prominent female character is headstrong Princess Lulu who is described by the narrator, Carmichael, as a beautiful and intelligent free spirit who prefers living in the desert with the nomadic Bedouin to the patriarchal oppression of the palace. The self-imposed mission to “rescue” Princess Lulu from subjugation operates as a rather obvious metaphor for the American military‟s liberation of Kuwait from oppressive Iraq. It also acts as a vehicle for the male protagonists to prove their heroism, and consequently, their masculinity following a war which did not provide them with such an opportunity. Whilst it seems that this may have been a sincere attempt by Paine to include Arab characters in the novel, the ironic result is that Kuwaiti characters are cast as “other” while Iraqi figures remain entirely absent. Similarly, in Heart of the Storm, Burruss‟ attempts to include Arab
9 „If, in the context of colonial production, the subaltern has no history and cannot speak, the subaltern as female is even more deeply in shadow‟. Gayatri Spivak, „Can the Subaltern Speak?‟, in Colonial Discourse and Post-colonial Theory, ed. by. Patrick Williams and Laura Chisman (New York: Columbia University Press, 1994), pp. 66-111 (pp.82-3).
10 See Edward Said, Orientalism (London: Vintage, 1979), pp. 2-3.
characters are subject to comparable obstacles. Abir is a sheik‟s wife who joins the Kuwaiti resistance and demonstrates intelligence, initiative and mental strength over the course of the novel. Her character is presumably constructed in order to challenge the Western perception of Middle Eastern women as quiet, uneducated and submissive. This is crudely illustrated when the narrator declares that American protagonist, Bill Kernan, „had always thought that Arab women were so submissive‟.11 Despite positing Abir as a contrast to the subaltern, her character fails to achieve her own voice. Instead, her relationship with Kernan and subsequent pregnancy conforms to orientalist notions of colonisation. Abir‟s relationship with Kernan follows the breakdown of her marriage to the sheik who deserted her as Kuwait was invaded, thus positing Arab men as untrustworthy. Abir does not challenge the patriarchy, but rather accepts colonisation by a patriarchal global force.
Burruss‟ representations of Arab men are characterised by what Sina Muscati refers to as the demonised Arab.12 Crucially, non-Western women in the novel are described as very Westernised both in appearance and behaviour. The few male Arab characters are represented as caricatures, not even referred to by name, but rather the Kuwaiti men are depicted as weak and the Iraqi men as brutal. The reader witnesses the subjugation of these women by these male characters. The educated Dr. Singh‟s work with the Kuwaiti resistance is punished by Iraqi soldiers who blind her by gouging out her eyes. This prevents the continuation of Dr.
Singh‟s work with the resistance and as a physician, and moreover, deprives her of independence. Burruss‟ narrative stresses the brutality of Iraqi men, most notably in the section describing the rape of Abir‟s servants, Mara and Sanaa.13 At first glance, this scene appears to be constructed as a literal representation of the “rape of Kuwait” metaphor projected in the Western media: „Iraq is villain, the US is hero, Kuwait is victim, the crime is
11 Buruss, Heart of the Storm, p. 59.
12 Sina Ali Muscati, „Arab/Muslim “Otherness”: The Role of Racial Constructions in the Gulf War and the Continuing Crisis with Iraq‟, Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs, 22: 1 (2002), 131-148 (p. 133).
13 Burruss, Heart of the Storm, pp. 51-54.
kidnap and rape‟.14 Crucially though, Burruss problematises a simplified analysis of this event by revealing that Kernan finds it easier to identify with the perpetrators than with the victims. When Kernan is alone with Abir later in the narrative, he fantasises about being in the place of the Iraqi soldier who had been about to rape Abir when Kernan had killed the attacker.15 On another occasion, Kernan has a dream in which he has consensual sexual intercourse with the exoticised Sanaa, then Mara, and finally rapes Abir.16 Although Kernan is appalled at the actions of the Iraqi soldiers, and disturbed by his own thoughts, it is fundamental to his character that he finds it easier to identify with the sexual aggressors, the dominant forces (the colonisers), than with Sanaa, Mara and Abir as the victims (the colonised). This passage is open to interpretation. However, Kernan‟s sense of identification with the Iraqi colonisers could be read as representative of the conflicting justifications under which the US entered the Gulf War. Additionally, this passage reinforces the point made earlier in this chapter that male authors of Gulf War literature employ female characters in order to illustrate specific arguments or facilitate narrative devices.
In contrast to Paine, Burruss acknowledges the role of the female soldier in the Gulf War. Staff Sergeant Michelle “Mickey” Myers, is depicted as a brave and capable military woman. However, Burruss undermines her identity as a soldier from the first passage where she is introduced to the reader by immediately situating her as Larry Redmond‟s potential romantic partner. She demonstrates her disapproval of sexist comments made by Redmond and his colleagues, but Burruss immediately undermines this with Myers‟ internalised
14 George Lakoff, „Metaphor and War,‟ quoted in Susan Jeffords, „Rape and the New World Order,‟ Cultural Critique, 19, The Economies of War (Autumn 1991), 203-215 (p. 204). Fears over the implications for women in the Iraq War are explored in H. Patricia Hynes, „On the battlefield of women‟s bodies: An overview of the harm of war to women‟, Women‟s Studies International Forum, 27 (2004), 431-455. For further discussion on war and sexual violence, see Cynthia Enloe, „When Soldiers Rape‟, in Manoeuvres: The International Politics of Militarizing Women‟s Lives (Berkley, L.A.: University of California Press, 2000), pp. 108-152.
15 Burruss, Heart of the Storm, p. 60.
16 Burruss, Heart of the Storm, pp. 107-8.
dialogue: „You may be an arrogant bastard, but you sure are a good looking one‟.17 In addition, Myers obscures her true role in the war so as not to intimidate Redmond, instead claiming that she is a Red Cross „donut dolly‟.18 Although Burruss uses Myers‟ and Redmond‟s interactions to raise some crucial issues regarding the gender-integrated military, his construction of Myers counteracts any possibility for useful discourse on the subject. This is further accentuated when Burruss describes how Myers saves Larry and his colleagues, but fails to take the credit for it. When Myers loses both of her legs in a landmine explosion whilst saving an injured Iraqi, she persists in perceiving herself as secondary to the male soldiers. Towards the end of the novel, Myers‟ actions are revealed and the result is admiration from her male colleagues. Even this, however, is not enough to earn her true warrior status: Myers‟ is repeatedly described as „a very brave woman‟,19 but fails to achieve recognition as a „great soldier‟. Burruss apparently attempts to provide female soldiers and Kuwaiti civilians with a voice within the Gulf War genre. To some extent he achieves this aim, raising important issues regarding gender and war. However, like Edward Zwick‟s 1996 filmic response to these issues, Courage Under Fire, Burruss‟ text creates more problems in terms of representing women in war than it addresses.20
Unlike Paine and Burruss, Blinn firmly situates his female characters firmly away from the battlefield, and alludes to them purely as objects of male sexual desire. Crucially, female characters are employed to reveal more about the personalities and histories of the male protagonists. The Aardvark‟s encounter with Tamara is symbolic of the potential problems in gendering the Gulf War, and of his own difficulty in engaging with it. The Aardvark has the opportunity to engage with Tamara and the Gulf War, however, both
17 Burruss, Heart of the Storm, p. 177.
18 Burruss, Heart of the Storm, p. 178.
19 Burruss, Heart of the Storm, p. 380 and p. 382.
20 For a compelling discussion of the representation of the gender-intergrated military in Courage Under Fire, see Susan E. Linville, „“The Mother of All Battles”: Courage Under Fire and the Gender-Integrated Military‟, Cinema Journal, 39: 2 (Winter, 2000), 100-120.
present him with dualities which ultimately prevent him from doing so. Firstly, there is a clear alignment of the concept of participation in sexual encounters with participation in the act of war. Secondly, the dualities that prevent the Aardvark from participation in either activity present some key ideas to consider in a gendered reading of Gulf war literature. The Aardvark‟s prospects of intercourse with Tamara are threatened by the possibility that she is transgender, or at least cannot be clearly defined as female.21 Although he analogises his genitals as weaponry,22 this problematises the Aardvark‟s exclusively masculine role in the encounter, and he fails to have intercourse with Tamara. Parallels can be drawn here with his failure to engage in the Gulf War. Throughout the novel, Blinn emphasises the fact that the Aardvark‟s training in anti-submarine warfare has been rendered obsolete by the new kind of warfare encountered in the Gulf War. If, as Martin Van Creveld suggests, the Gulf War marks a transition into a feminised mode of war, then it could be argued that the Aardvark‟s struggle to come to terms with potential participation in the war is due to its feminised status.
As discussed in Chapter Three, the Aardvark‟s sense of identity and role in the war are challenged by the „more nuanced masculine interiority represented in the post-Cold war media ideals of masculinity‟.23
Through interactions with Rudy‟s wife Anita and other female characters, Blinn contrasts the Aardvark‟s introspective and philosophical nature with Rudy‟s chauvinistic attitude and violent behaviour. Rudy sexually assaults an exotic dancer, in the presence of a baying crowd, positing Rudy as an animalistic and Neanderthal being,24 who „reaches out, piercing the boundary, invading her space‟.25 In the extended description that Blinn provides,
21 Blinn, The Aardvark is Ready for War, pp. 139-40.
22 Blinn describes the encounter: „she‟s got my cock in her hand and it‟s torpedo hard‟. Blinn, The Aardvark is Ready for War, p. 134.
23 Wiegman, „Missiles and Melodrama‟, p. 176.
24 Blinn describes Rudy as, „a crazy ape‟ whose „oversized heart is pounding out a flood of wild animal blood‟.
The Aardvark pictures Rudy dragging the dancer „off to his cave‟ to „have at her with all the crazy juice boiling up inside him‟, pp. 98-9.
25 Blinn, The Aardvark is Ready for War, p. 98.
the reader witnesses the Aardvark struggling to summon the courage to prevent Rudy from progressing with the assault. In this passage, Blinn unpacks several issues raised by cultural commentators in terms of gendering war. Although Blinn does not posit female characters in the warzone, these peripheral characters function to problematise the gendering of the Gulf War as feminine. The character of the stripper characterises several conflicting concepts associated with war and sexuality. Rudy‟s violation of her bodily boundaries situates her as the feminised enemy occupied by the American soldier. If, as Freud suggests, the male organ finds symbolic equivalents in objects which „resemble it in shape‟ and, in function, specifically in „objects which share with the thing they represent the characteristic of penetrating into the body and injuring - thus sharp weapons of every kind, knives, daggers, spears, sabres, but also fire-arms, rifles, pistols, and revolvers‟,26 then the radar gun that the stripper uses in her performance27 can be read as a prosthetic which enhances her masculinity. Through her use of weaponry in her performance, the stripper transcends the boundaries of masculinity, and by extension, into the world of war. Here, Blinn constructs a scenario which is analogous with the Gulf War as the first war in which „men and women served in integrated units over a period of months‟.28 Crucially, the Aardvark both de-sexualises and dehumanises the stripper:
[she is] almost cute if you squint and ignore the dead eyes… She arches her back, delineating every rib, every line of muscle, tits stretched so flat so she
[she is] almost cute if you squint and ignore the dead eyes… She arches her back, delineating every rib, every line of muscle, tits stretched so flat so she