Woody's PTSD (spoilers, duh)

first, i'd like to salute the film crew for making one of the best war movies i've ever seen... the script is fantastic, the characters remarkably real, and the story heartrending.

on to woody. the hero of the film, the everyman's best man, an officer to admire. he spent barely a few months with these men, and he led them through courage, death, and sacrifice. and then in that split second, he was given an impossible burden... to actualise one of the Allies' greatest war efforts, or to save the life of a young boy he called son. the stonefaced expression as he pulled the detonator... a split second resonating for eternity.

it was no choice at all, for if he failed his duty, his superior would finish the deed in his place, with possibly a traitor's court martial awaiting. woody could not look at his sergeant, whose steely nerves snapped the instant of the great explosion. how did he get back home? how did the battle fare? how is he going to face his sweetheart? and with all that crushing guilt, he steps into a church to wed his innocent bride... this hero's heart forever sullen.

the war-made box survives to this day, a memento of the greatest horror: man's innocence buried in the nonchalant blasts of warfare. as the titles roll, we are informed that Hill 60, though a spectacle of historic immensity, a remarkable feat of Allied ingenuity, was barely significant in defeating the aggressor. 16 million lives... given in utter anguish... given so that survivors can agonise for the rest of their lives, how they had to make decisions, life-ending decisions, under the most unforgiving circumstances, all so the endless cycle of war can continue.

the Military Cross and Two Bars did not represent merely courage and honour. like every other military decoration, glory is fast-fading and hollow-ringing. Cpt Woodward's badge will forever perch beside Tiffin's box as a stern warning: this man has lived with PTSD for the tragedy of war.