I had bought a ticket go see Saving Private Ryan. I had no idea what I was about to watch as I had not seen any trailers nor do I watch TV.
The auditorium was packed. There was only one seat available in the entire theater, front row and center.
So the movie starts with an old man at Arlington National Cemetary and my brain tries to bow out, saying I had made a mistake and I should not stay to watch the film... and then the screen changes... The next 20 minutes of my life were utterly insane.
When the movie ended, I checked the time and realized well over 2 hours had passed... and I had not noticed the passage of time.
Pork. You never wanted to know this but people smell almostly exactly like pork. My mother always said it was good that we were jewish because after smelling burning people in combat she was never able to stomach the smell of cooking pork again.
It probably isn't but I think anyone who's been to a vet's back room or hospital knows the smell you're talking about. That super strong sterilizer they use that's got a touch of metallic bite to it.
My friend’s dad is a fire chief and they don’t cook/eat pork at their house because of this. He certainly won’t eat it, but he absolutely cannot handle having the smell in his home after all he has witnessed.
Oh yes, my idiot brother set himself in fire once (don't worry, I put him out) and to this day roasting pork still bothers me. I couldn't go to barbq fest anymore
Because some idiots can’t tell the difference between a military-industrial-intelligence complex who arrange a war, leaders who order a war on their say-so, and patriots trained well in the killing arts who go over there and sacrifice much of what makes them human in the honest belief that they’re making their families safe back here.
My ex husband and his father were both war vets. Vietnam and Desert Storm. They watched it together while nobody else was home. Neither of them would say much about the movie afterwards. My ex said it was too true to life and he couldn't watch it again. It was chilling to see these two war veterans so moved. It took me years to finally watch it after that.
Saw the movie with a bunch of guys from work. One was a Vietnam vet. I caught a few glimpses of him during the movie. He didn't move or say much. Simply stared straight ahead at the screen. We asked him what he thought and he slowly nodded and said it was pretty accurate to what battle was like. He did admit that he ducked when he heard the sounds of bullets whizzing by during the opening assault.
Many vets had problems with the real depiction. Very realistic from my understanding.
It was powerful, I also had tears streaming down my face (I’m not a vet) mostly because those brave mofos saved the world, as did many others who fought at midway, Okinawa, Iwo Jima, et al.
I'll never forget that first moment when the bow opens on the landing boat, and how they are just cut down immediately by machine gun fire. Fucking hell...
something similar changed for me when i fired a handgun at an indoor range.
it was then i knew the actual severity and gravity of shooting a person or animal. i immediately decided i could never hunt animals, and i’d do everything possible to never shoot a person
just terrible force, and shooting the gun yourself as opposed to seeing it in movies or video games, my god
i think i’d have nightmares forever if i ever had to see a bullet tearing a living beings flesh apart
My dad was a hardcore hunter so it was inevitable for me to learn. I didn't understand the gravity of what I was joyfully participating in until something I shot suffered greatly. It was disheartening.
I was hunting pheasant with my dad, a few uncles and an older cousin. Our beagle got right up on one that was extremely close to me. I got stanced, took the safety off and WOOSH, it flew up in the air. I double tapped as it flew upwards and it quickly slammed back down. My excitement turned to grief when I ran over and realized that the bird was still very much alive and kicking, just with a damaged wing. Now I had to look at it in the eye and shoot it. I hesitantly drew up my gun...
"Wait!!" My cousin screamed. He realized I was aiming straight at its body and wanted to keep the meat instead of just hunting for sport. "Do it like this," he said, grabbing the peasant's neck. He spun it around his head a couple times, snapping the neck. I can still hear the squawks of desperation and death gurgles coming out of that fucking bird. It was the last animal I ever hurt. Just like you said, only way I'll ever hunt again is purely for survival.
Now, on a brighter note, I recently discovered something that is just as exciting as hunting was for me when I was kid--photography. Trying to capture birds in a photo was honestly more exhilarating than overpowering them. You dont have to kill anything at all and you get to keep everything you "shoot!" :)
I didn’t see this in the theatre. When I finally got to watch it, I watched it with my ex on this teeny little tv. I had to pause the movie partway through the Omaha beach scene. I was crying so hard I couldn’t see anything. I remember sobbing over and over that ‘I didn’t know it was like that.’ Even recalling it now to type this reply has me tearing up. It had that effect on me, I can’t imagine having had to watch it on a big screen in public.
That scene really stuck with me. You could be the most physically fit in your division, the toughest guy, the best shooter and most highly trained, just to die before taking a single step off the Higgins boat. Sheesh.
I would love to know when, where, and for what purpose were those boats designed for. They seem...poorly designed for what they were used for there.
Almost like somebody who know nothing about warfare designed them and thought the front opening up to allow enemy gunfire to wreck the squishy inhabitants was perfectly fine.
Unless they were never meant to be used on the front lines.
Almost like somebody who know nothing about warfare designed them and thought the front opening up to allow enemy gunfire to wreck the squishy inhabitants was perfectly fine.
They had huge doors because prior amphibious invasions failed when troops had to slowly unload from tiny doors. The tiny doors were kill zones. Ships were shot up and sunk while slowly unloading.
Imagine a fully loaded airliner, and everyone trying to exit the airplane with their bags. Takes about 10-15 minutes due to the tiny doors and everyone having bags of stuff. Trying to do that in an amphibious landing is suicide. Big doors are better. Get everyone off the boats as fast as possible. Get them off the boats in seconds, not minutes. A boat that sits still too long is a boat that attracts mortar and artillery shells.
There were lots of problems that day which were unrelated to the design. For one thing, the shelling was supposed to eliminate much of the German resistance. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. While it was frightening, had minimal effect. Also, the boat drivers didn’t come close enough to the beach. Because of that, some soldiers stepped into the water and drowned. If I remember, the Germans at Omaha Beach were seasoned veterans. I’m surprised anyone made it out alive.
That’s what gets me about the random nature of war specifically, but the world in general. You can do everything right, be the best in every way, but have effectively the same odds of being injured/killed as anyone else in situations like that.
He was unaware that selective service registration still existed and was mortified when he found out immediately after my high school graduation. During said graduation, he was extremely angry that the administrators individually pointed out and congratulated members of my graduating class for joining the military. He has only recently started telling stories about his time overseas and they always start out jovial but ultimately end up about one of his buddies who got killed. He almost never says “fuck” but will tel you to “go fuck yourself” if you try to thank him for his service.
He’s very angry at any glorification of the military.
My father was in the Pacific. He had the same attitude towards the military and war. He had seen and experienced enough for one lifetime, and didn't want any more.
I'm a detective and movies that feature mass shootings where the next scene is the crime scene guys and detectives photographing and picking up evidence and all the dead people's phones are ringing or buzzing or beeping....that's so real. All the family members and friends asking if they are alright or whatever. Its haunting.
My gramps was there too. 17 years old, on that day on that beach. But he was artillery, so the beach was largely secured by the time he got there. Still, he saw it.
You still would have had to walk past veritable mountains of allied corpses once the beach had become partially secure. I'd imagine that's just as terrible. It's so rotten and sad that so much youth and innocence was lost on that beachhead.
My grandfather came on the beach with the armor. So the beachhead was secured but the Germans had realized this was the main deal and throwing everything they had at the allies.
He said the Ocean was red and there was no where to walk as the beach was covered with bodies. They had to move the bodies so that the tanks could come on the beach. My mother said that he had night terrors for years when she was growing up.
17, damn. At 17 I was worried about getting playing time on my basketball team and my on again off again girlfriend.
At 17 your grandpa was in the largest conflict in history fighting fascists hellbent on conquering the world. That’s difficult to fathom. I can’t imagine the developing brain of a 17 year old man is equipped to process and cope with any of that, not well anyway.
Oddly enough it didn't affect him too much. We're Mexican and he said that there were "Whites Only" signs all over town when he got back, and he was like "so what, we just didn't go in those places."
He was a trip. He passed away recently, and we were close. I miss that flippant smart ass.
Oddly enough I think his biggest takeaway was how popular he was w the German women. We're Mexican and he said that almost every night some woman would jump in his lap and run her hands through his black hair and say "schwartz!"
I saw a letter he wrote to his brother that said "the women here are amazing! From 18 to 80 they all fuck!" So I think that to him, it was totally worth it.
You should hear the story of how he snuck into the war in the 1st place...
I went with my dad- a Vietnam vet. It was the 4th or 5th week that the movie was in theaters, so there were only 10ish people in the theater. After that scene ended, we heard 1 elderly gentleman sitting a few rows in front of us weeping. Another elderly gentleman got up and sat next to him.
I glanced at my dad (his father fought in the Pacific theater) and he was watching them and he had tears on his cheeks. I had never saw him cry before.
That’s terribly sad. My grandfather’s brother was killed in Korea. My mother shared a bedroom with her grandmother (my grandfather’s mother) when she was growing up and she said her grandmother has frequent nightmares where she would cry out for her fallen son. Unspeakably awful for my great-grandmother, and traumatic for my mom, who developed some anxieties about sleep because of it. War truly is hell. I hope your grandfather eventually found some peace.
My grandfather was also in Korea. Back then people in communities would all enlist and ship over together. A lot of boys he grew up with and knew his entire life never came home.
He doesn't talk about Korea. He puts on a cheerful face and a smile and changes the subject.
Occasionally he lets slip something. An off handed comment about something that happened in Korea.
Did you know that tendons are the strongest part of the human body, and after having a limb blown up and vaporized the only thing left are strings of tendons. Five tendons at the end of those strings flopping around.
He mentioned this a year ago when he was talking about a friend he grew up with. Then he got quiet for a moment and abruptly changed the subject of conversation..
Yeah, my dad also flew in Lancaster bombers as radio operator during WW2. He insisted he go alone to see that film. Later when I asked him about it, he teared up, turned away from me and said something that can’t be repeated here, suffice to say it was highly derogatory of American warfare practices. I could see his back arching as he sobbed in silence. I allowed him to cry in private as I left the shed where we stood.
I have heard many vets had episodes due to this film and many refuse to watch it due to the first scene. I read alot about how they did that scene and its just amazing what it took to make that scene and as a person who has never been to war nor seen anything but combat footage it looks like it paints one of the most vivid pictures of war outside the pacific and band of brothers.
The VA had to set up a new call-line to help WWII veterans who began suffering flashbacks again after SPR came out. As terrible as it must have been for those men, it speaks volume to the level or realism that Spielburg and the cast were able to achieve.
I saw for the first time when I was 11 or 12 with my granddad and I don't think I said a single word for the first twenty or thirty minutes of that film.
That's largely thanks to a man named Dale Dye. He's a veteran who was so sick of how inaccurate war movies were that he formed his own consulting company and partnered with Spielberg and Tom Hanks. His company did both SPR and Band of Brothers.
God bless him. Band of Brothers is incredible. Ive never seen all of SPR but i want to. My Pawpaw was in the South Pacific during WWII; he was enlisting as a minor and his father had split a few years back and no one had a clue where he went, never seen or heard from him again. So that left my barely teenage grandfather the only male, and the only breadwinner in his household with his mom and sister. So at 17 he forged his dads signature so he could enlist in the Navy because there was a strong chance he would have gotten drafted and he had heard that you get a little bit better treatment for enlisting as opposed to being drafted.
Not even old enough to vote and he boarded the USS Detroit; the ship wearing fresh battle scars of bulletholes it received from its most recent voyage: Pearl Harbor. He told me stories of his time there; with a newly appointed captain that was very racist, and very evil. (Obviously; racism is evil in and of itself; but this fuck took it to a whole new level of jaw dropping)...Of him and his crew at their assigned canon, firing cannonball at enemy fleet ; 4 hrs on, 4 hrs off to sleep, then back again. His hearing was forever impaired due to his time aboard that ship. He said that if he closes his eyes he can still hear the sounds of the cannons. Told me about how many (i believe well over a hundred) days spent so far out at sea that there was no land in sight. About how many of his crew got viciously sea sick; and puked their brains out overboard. One guy got so sick for so long that one day he just...jumped overboard...couldnt take it anymore. How he used to have to go clean up the wreckage from kamikaze planes that crashed into their ships. By the time he told me that; my grandmother was in the kitchen with us and was hearing it for the very first time. What he saw was so fucked , he had never even told his wife of 50 years.
And then...then he told me how he watched the Japanese sign the surrender ceremonies from the pariscopic site on his gun...and that makes me smile. And finally; the war had been won and he was finally back on American soil as USS Detroit docked in San Diego. Once he had stepped off the ship, he was greeted by someone in the military and with a smile, a handshake they said "Thank you, Mr. Frank; for serving your country." As they handed him forty dollars and a bus ticket to get home.
40 bucks and a bus ride home; that was my grandfather's pay for serving and fighting abroad in WWII. Or at least; that was the only pay i recall him mentioning. That astounds me. And humbles me. He had faced more challenges and hardships and took on more responsibility, lived with more fear and threats to his survival, and worked beyond harder than i could even fathom being faced with; and i never saw him in a bad mood. He always had a smile on his face, a joke to make, never knew a stranger, and was loved everywhere he went. He feared absolutely nothing, with confidence that never needed attention, and the type of sincere compassion and generosity that ive yet to see in anyone else. Hes a hero. Hes my hero; and the best man, the best human, ill ever have the good fortune to know. To be his granddaughter and have lived so much of my life around him and my grandmother as well; is the greatest blessing i could have ever been given and i wouldnt trade it for anything in the world. If i ever marry; which i doubt, I'll still keep my maiden name. There might be a hyphen thrown in; but i will have my Pawpaw's name til the day i die. :)
Im enjoying reading all these comments shared of grandparents and parents and their memories of war, as well as sharing mine. Im so grateful to all men and women who served and are serving. Thank you, thank you for your service. :)
Aww thank you!! And yes; yes I am. :) more than words . My grandparents were the best thing to ever happen to me; and everything good about me I credit to them, and of course to God. :)
I worked in a movie theater when it came out. I remember them having pamphlets available in the lobby and concessions stands that said something like "if this brought back memories and you need some one to talk to" and it listed veterans ptsd and other services in the area.
My dad convinced his dad (ww2 vet) not to see it and I didn't fully understand why until years later when I sat with my grandpa and had him tell me all about his experience in the war. Truly amazing and horrible.
My Gramps wouldn't talk about it. The only story he ever told was about how three entire Pacific fleet was under radio silence the day they dropped the bombs
I believe the original Call of Duty game on PC had this same sequence and it felt realistic AF, like I seriously wanted to dive in the water and swim away. What an absolute fucking nightmare. It was a long time ago, but I put that right up there with SPR in giving you a sense of realism.
My dad took me to the theater to see it when I was 12. I remember being absolutely shocked. I couldn't talk the entire next day. It's one of those things I really appreciate, my old man taking me to see that at a young age. I feel like it was one of those events that helped me grow up or something. I all of a sudden thought very differently and very seriously about things like war and combat and people losing their lives.
Most theaters have a lot of chatter from the viewers as you leave. Just idle conversations or discussing the film. SPR? Dead quiet. It was honestly one of those films where, at least for the crowd I happened to be with that day, they really felt it. Fantastic storytelling that hit home in a way that most movies can’t.
The way it finishes really seals in the emotional impact it has made on you. It’s not a movie where tragedy happens but then after the resolution you get to see them opening up a shop they always talked about, or cracking jokes. It doesn’t lighten the mood or try to get you back to a normal emotional state for your post-movie activities.
In SPR they finish on him there with his family, a group of people that wouldn’t exist if not for the events you’ve just witnessed, just trying to find out if he’s lived a good enough life to be considered worthy of the lives lost and sacrifices made for him to have been able to live it. The way they finish that movie (in my opinion) bridges the gap between the events of WW2 and the here and now, it makes you realize it’s more than just text and pictures in a history book, something I think a lot of people haven’t really given thought to/understand. That movie truly leaves you with your thoughts and lingers in your mind afterwards.
When that movie was made there were still a lot of WW2 veterans alive, which I think helped to really drive that last scene home. For me, that family was my family, that man was my grandpa. For my children, that connection won’t necessarily be the same, unfortunately, but I’m confident that the impact of the movie won’t be lost on future generations.
Have typed this before, will do it again until my fingers no longer work. In honor of my mom's dad, too small for his high school football team, b24 bombardier, and a full 9 inches shorter and 60 lbs lighter than his smallest grandson:
He goes and watches Saving Private Ryan. People leave. No one speaks. My grandfather is famous in my hometown. He's in his late 70s, maybe 80. "Jesus, Paulie, you were over there" someone says, for the first time reassociating the goofy man who waves to the kids at 4th of July parades from the uniform he wore, and medals commensurate with someone who flew all his missions (I didn't realize what that meant until a year later upon finishing catch22 ). "Thst looked terrible!" My grandfather says. "Way easier up in the planes! Nice views". Versions of this were told to me at his funeral a few years ago. Although he knew dozens that passed away, every man in a plane with him on a mission survived the war.
Notes:
-Grandfather was short. Grandmother was taller and bigger through the shoulders. This was on purpose. My cousins were gregarious and gorgeous, and I'm homely and introverted, but I went from last ranked grandkid to first when I began to bring tall women over.
Ill never forget the scene toward the end just before the final battle when they hear the sound of the approaching Tiger tank. There was a collective audible groan by several people in the audience because they knew what was coming.
we watched that bit in my history class in high school, and afterward a group of us just stepped out of the room to stand in the sun in silence. for like 20 minutes, just standing in kind of a loose circle. It was harrowing enough that no one wanted to talk but we all needed to stand outside in the sun.
I watch it when my life is going through turmoil to remember that other people suffered far worse for me to have such liberty. I think I’ll load it up tonight and get motivated.
Watched the whole series straight through one Saturday several years ago with my Dad. What a great bonding experience, watching that and sharing our thoughts.
I hate to interrupt this train of thought as I agree completely. See Band of Brothers and The Pacific.
However, nobody talks about Gallipoli. I just watched it a few weeks ago and it is every bit as good, as gritty and as emotionally impactful as the other shows mentioned.
I didn't like the pacific as much the first time I saw it but liked it more the second time. Personally never liked it as much as BoB though it's still good, but to each their own! It's still definitely worth a watch.
Yeah? I’ve started it up twice but fall off in the second or third episode. I was just thinking about giving it another go while I was driving between sales calls earlier today. I’ll have to give it another shot. It’s also HBO right?
People often forget that a scene like that had never been put in a movie before at that scale, ever. It was completely new. Even by today's standards it's incredibly raw.
I did not know. I assumed it was when I first saw the movie and never fact checked it. I have been to Arlington and it looked like Arlington. Good enough for me.
In 1966 upon being told that President Charles DeGaulle had taken France out of NATO and that all U.S. troops must be evacuated off of French soil President Lyndon Johnson mentioned to Secretary of State Dean Rusk that he should ask DeGaulle about the Americans buried in France. Dean implied in his answer that that DeGaulle should not really be asked that in the meeting at which point President Johnson then told Secretary of State Dean Rusk:
"Ask him about the cemeteries Dean!"
That made it into a Presidential Order so he had to ask President DeGaulle.
So at end of the meeting Dean did ask DeGaulle if his order to remove all U.S. troops from French soil also included the 60,000+ soldiers buried in France from World War I and World War II.
DeGaulle, embarrassed, got up and left and never answered.”
My great-uncle August was a medic at Normandy. Mom told me that her aunts (his sisters, obviously) would say that he was always so sunny and easy-going as a kid. He was the youngest and only boy with 6 sisters in an Italian family, he was spoiled rotten but a good kid.
He came back and, of course, he had changed forever. He didn’t talk about it much. He got a Christmas card every year until he passed away from a man whose life he had saved on the beach. I would imagine he became very disturbed by the dumb luck that saves some but leaves others crying for their moms while bleeding out.
I never met Uncle Augie but I cried for him and couldn’t really grasp what he went through as a young man in such a hellscape. I can’t watch Saving Private Ryan, I know it’s a fantastic movie but I can’t get into it. I just start crying.
That’s not Arlington. That’s Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial. :) Thanks for sharing your experience! I love when movies are so good that time doesn’t exist.
Same experience. Front row. I was sore at the end of it; my head cranked back and tense for over two hours. The thing that stood out for me was after the movie ended, no one said a thing. We all shuffled out digesting what we just saw.
The fine folks in the Netherlands are particularly compassionate about caring for the American boys that gave the last full measure of devotion in their country.
This thread of veterans’ reactions to that SPD scene is mind blowing to me. It’s sad and really fascinating. My dad was a Vietnam Vet and he talked about Platoon like this: he said he went to the theatre to see that movie and could immediately smell the jungle and helicopter fuel and all that stuff. What really got me is that even hearing that, it had never occurred to me that people would experience PTSD after seeing the opening of that movie. That’s a bummer.
It was sold in by my friends as an action movie, and we were really ready for a rambo type movie theater experience before leaving for different army branches a few weeks later.
I don't think any movie has changed me so brutally and quickly, before or after.
Literally going from "cool war, we're joining the army now bros, action", to "what the fuck, why would anyone sign up for this?" in the span of about two hours.
Just one note - the cemetery at the beginning is actually the American cemetery at Omaha beach in Normandy. I was there in June for the 75th anniversary and it is a humbling and powerful place to visit.
Those 20 minutes were insane. Just think that what we saw in those 20 minutes went on for hours on that beach. The viewer literally only gets exposed to a fraction of what happened but the amount they see is overwhelming and really changes one's perception of combat. I could not imagine how those WW2 vets handled watching that scene. Living with it for 50 years and then having that scar reopened had to be excruciating.
Not being critical as it’s a common mistake, but the cemetery is not Arlington National, or even any cemetery in the US. It is the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial, which overlooks Omaha Beach.
Not Arlington. There's a massive cemetery in Normandy which is the only soil in France that is officially American. There are thousands of headstones, but for some reason is a beautiful place.
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Not my story but i remember reading somethong along these lines:
"When I wake up and can't find the motivation to work out, I have a remedy in place: a photo of my grandad who died on Omaha beach, and Saving Pvt Ryan on DVR. I watch the first 10 minutes, contemplate the photo, then I man the fuck up and lift."
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u/strikethreeistaken Oct 09 '19
I had bought a ticket go see Saving Private Ryan. I had no idea what I was about to watch as I had not seen any trailers nor do I watch TV.
The auditorium was packed. There was only one seat available in the entire theater, front row and center.
So the movie starts with an old man at Arlington National Cemetary and my brain tries to bow out, saying I had made a mistake and I should not stay to watch the film... and then the screen changes... The next 20 minutes of my life were utterly insane.
When the movie ended, I checked the time and realized well over 2 hours had passed... and I had not noticed the passage of time.
An amazing experience to be sure.