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Biography & Autobiography. History. Military. Nonfiction. HTML: â??A book about young men transformed by war, written by a veteran whose dazzling literary gifts gripped my attention from the first page to the last.â? â??The Wall Street Journal â??Friedmanâ??s sober and striking new memoir . . . [is] on a par with Tim Oâ??Brienâ??s The Things They Carried â?? its Israeli analog.â? â??The New York Times Book Review It was just one small hilltop in a small, unnamed war in the late 1990s, but it would send out ripples that are still felt worldwide today. The hill, in Lebanon, was called the Pumpkin; flowers was the military code word for â??casualties.â? Award-winning writer Matti Friedman re-creates the harrowing experience of a band of young Israeli soldiers charged with holding this remote outpost, a task that would change them forever, wound the country in ways large and small, and foreshadow the unwinnable conflicts the United States would soon confront in Afghanistan, Iraq, and elsewhere. Pumpkinflowers is a reckoning by one of those young soldiers now grown into a remarkable writer. Part memoir, part reportage, part history, Friedmanâ??s powerful narrative captures the birth of todayâ??s chaotic Middle East and the rise of a twenty-first-century type of war in which there is never a clear victor and media images can be as important as the battle itself. Raw and beautifully rendered, Pumpkinflowers will take its place among classic war narratives by George Orwell, Philip Caputo, and Tim Oâ??Brien. It is an unfl… (more)
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The writing style can be somewhat difficult as the author follows numerous people while also chronicling a first person view. Overall it was a good, informative read that would be recommended to military historians, social sciences, historians, and those interested in learning more about our cousins overseas.
Thank you LT for another great read!
The latter part of the book details his journey back to Lebanon under his Canadian passport, describing his journey and perspectives from the Lebanese point of view. This book is a honest tale of the futility of war, intermingled with politics, religion, and the brotherhood discovered in a combat unit.
The book goes on to chronicle the author's time at Pumpkin Hill and
Thank you Matti Friedman for sharing your story and shedding some light in a way that I could understand.
First, and foremost, Mr. Friedmanâs book will stand apart because it deals
This period of the conflict was odd in many senses, not the least of which is the fact that there werenât many real battles as our world thinks of them. The conflict seems to have consisted solely of small skirmishes, with soldiers in sight of their bases, and regular missile attacks on them while at their bases. Which doesnât mean that the people involved didnât risk their lives, show bravery, and die for their country; they did, on both sides. A fair number of them, in fact. But it means it was a quieter war than what is considered ânormalâ for wars. With far fewer deaths, but also with far less certainty as to the purpose and meaning behind those deaths. It was, in many ways, a precursor to the wars that have happened ever since in the Middle East, training for both the good guys and the bad guys in a new modern style of war to which we have all become too quickly accustomed.
Mr. Friedmanâs book will also stand apart because of his voice. He has a calm and restrained voice, not dispassionate and not uncaring, but unusually thoughtful, even-tempered, and fair. Though he and his friends suffered through the war while in their late teens, he doesnât seem to hate his warâs enemy. And he realizes that the decision as to who lived and who died on his side often depended as much on what task or which base to which someone was assigned, which truck or helicopter they chose to board, or how they moved, as it did on the actions of the enemy. And he realized that who died on the other side could very easily be a matter of mistaken identity.
Mr. Friedman periodically references and quotes the poets of the First World War, and his voice is similar in many ways. If I had to pick one word to summarize Mr. Friedmanâs book, I think Iâd be hard pressed to decide between âinsightfulâ and âpoignant.â It is overall a quiet book, with insightful reflection, and only moments of terror and action. But that seems to be how war is, most of the time: a great deal of time to think, punctuated by terror. It didnât take me long to read Mr. Friedmanâs book, but I suspect it will stay with me a long time.
Pumpkinflowers, then, refers not to a bucolic late-summer farm field, but rather to the soldiers physically and sometimes mentally wounded by service in a hostile land, where their presence became increasingly indefensible. Matti Friedman tells the stories of these young men and their challenges feelingly and at close hand, as he was one of them.
Friedman is a journalist born in Canada, who lamented the lack of writing about that occupation and its impact on the young Israeli men who served there, most of them fresh out of high school. So he set about telling their story himself, believing todayâs Middle East situation had some of its seeds in this unnamed and largely ignored security zone conflict.
Initially, as so often happens in military history, the generals were fighting the last war. They thought the enemy comprised somewhat ragtag Palestinian guerrillas, but before long, the occupiers faced local Shiites, who called themselves the Party of God, Hezbollah. This group was generously funded by Iran and Syria and able to call on a seemingly endless supply of would-be suicide bombers. Hezbollah also soon seized the lead in the propaganda war.
That the TV images were the real weapons, that the Hezbollah fighters and Israeli soldiers had been turned into actors in an attack staged for the cameraâthese werenât things anyone understood yet. . . . Within a few years elements of the security zone war would, in turn, appear elsewhere and become familiar . . . : Muslim guerrillas operating in a failed and chaotic state; small clashes in which the key actor is not the general but the lieutenant or private; the use of a democracyâs sensitivities, public opinion, and free press as weapons against it.
Hezbollah was not interested in a negotiated withdrawal of Israeli troops or achievement of some limited goal: âIt is a vision and an approach, not only a military reaction,â one of its leaders has written. Subsequent actions continue to demonstrate this larger view, which suggests limits on a strictly military response.
Through discussion of the Four Mothers movement, which supported withdrawal from Lebanon, Friedman explores the political conflict between the leftists of the dwindling kibbutz movement who in the 1990s believed in compromise and thought peace was possible and the rightists who believed peace was a dangerous illusion and who currently dominate Israeli politics.
The last section of the book describes Friedmanâs return to Lebanon (using his Canadian passport) and his rediscovery of the remains of the Pumpkin, a place as tangible to him today, in its continued importance, as it ever was when he served there.
Not a long book at 225 pages, itâs insightful and well written, condensing both human interest and political analysis into the story of a single lost outpost. Author Lucette Lagnado says Friedmanâs prose âmanages to be lyrical, graceful, and deeply evocative even when tackling the harshest subjects imaginable,â and I certainly found it so.
Israelâs tactic of establishing security zones in Lebanon designed to protect the homeland from attacks lead instead to less security and a loss of public confidence. Friedman gives voice to this common skepticism. âWhen they [Hezbollah] wanted to strike Israel they simply fired rockets from deeper in Lebanon, outside the [security] zoneâŚ. Were we just protecting ourselves?â Young men were dying, no end was in sight and Hezbollah was becoming more effective with guerilla tactics. At home, most Israelis were becoming âallergic to ideology, thinkers of small practical thoughts, livers of life between bombardments.â
The Pumpkin was just one hilltop six miles inside Lebanon manned by young men who were becoming deeply skeptical of their mission. Yet, because they were patriots, they served with courage, often becoming casualties or âflowersâ to use the militaryâs euphemistic code word.
Freidman captures the soldierâs experience in his remarkable four-part memoir. He begins before his time on the Pumpkin in the latter part of the 90âs. He uses the diary of Avi Ofner, a young recruit who dies in a tragic helicopter accident to capture the feeling. Avi was intelligent and rebellious, a combination that the military considered to be dangerous to the missionâthink Yosarian in Joseph Hellerâs âCatch 22â or the doctors in the MASH film and TV series. The second part follows the civilian backlash against the security zones that followed the deadly helicopter crash. In part three, Freidman tells of his own experiences on the Pumpkin in 1998. This is the most effective section of the book because it is a first-hand account of the conditions, which were not unlike those that existed in the trenches during WWI. The final section is rare in military memoirs because Freidman recounts his journey to southern Lebanon as a Canadian tourist following the abandonment of the hilltop bunkers by the Israeli army. He learns to appreciate the humanity of his former enemies, but becomes pessimistic about the prospects for peace because of their admiration for Hezbollah and virulent anti-Semitism. One should not be surprised, however, that the abandoned and destroyed Pumpkin had lost its significance. âAtop the western embankment a Hezbollah flag flew at last, but it was just a ragged scrap of fabric that had once been yellow. For a time this hill was worth our lives, but even the enemy seemed to know that now it was worth nothing at all.â
Although most of us here in the west were largely oblivious to that conflict between the IDF and Hezbollah fighters in Lebanon, Friedman shows us, one brief, terse chapter at a time, how 'his' war was actually the beginning of the hit-and-run terrorist wars of today, waged by Al Qaeda, ISIS, or whatever you wish to call that shadowy enemy that continues to spread terror with sneak attacks not only in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria and Turkey, but also in Europe and even in the U.S. Because Hezbollah was already using IED's and roadside bombs, and, by the end of the 90s, even suicide bombers began showing up in the marketplaces of larger Israeli cities like Tel Aviv and Jerusalem.
Through extensive research and interviews, Friedman traces the history of the Pumpkin and the young men who served at the remote post over a period of more than fifteen years, many of them maimed, mutilated and killed. He begins with the story of a young would-be writer named Avi, a dreamer and an idealist who recognized early that the army has "no room for innocence ... For him the army was, more than anything else, an intensive course on human nature."
"The habit of living - that is, adulthood - this is what Avi was figuring out during those nights at the edge of the world."
Indeed. Because, as Friedman tells the various human stories that the Pumpkin witnessed over those years, you learn that most of the soldiers who served there were very young, in their teens and early twenties. And some of them never got any older. As Friedman explains -
"What happens is that you're a high-school student and the child of your parents, and then you're a member of a unit in the army, and these aren't identities you choose."
Which is certainly true in Israel, where a universal draft of all young people is a fact of life, unlike here in the U.S. But the intensity of friendships forged in the army are like no other you will ever have, as Friedman explains -
"Sometimes, after spending weeks together in the forced intimacy of the outpost during that first tour, we went home on leave, and only a day or two later arranged to meet of our own volition on the beach at Tel Aviv. No one understood but us, so we needed to be together. In this country if you identify someone as a friend from the army, it is recognized as something different than saying friend. It's a different category."
Amen, brother. And, looking back, over a period of nearly twenty years, Friedman ruefully remembers too how innocent and ignorant he was of so many things -
"It's hard to recall how little you once knew, and harder to admit it."
Friedman makes it clear that much of Israeli society paid little heed to this continuing little war along its northern border, much like Americans today go on shopping and having fun while our own military redeploys repeatedly to faraway hot spots. It was a war that went on and on, with no named operations, no medals or ribbons. It took a small group of bereaved mothers protesting the war to cause the IDF to finally withdraw from those northern outposts and shut them down. Unfortunately, Hezbollah and their successor groups took this as a victory, and now we have... Well, look at today's world and its ongoing "war on terror." That's what we have.
There's an interesting point, however, that Friedman makes about how the Israeli people choose to deal with the continued attacks and bombings -
"People in Israel didn't despair, as our enemies hoped. Instead they stopped paying attention. What would we gain from looking to our neighbors? Only heartbreak and a slow descent after them into the pit. No, we would turn our back on them and look elsewhere, to the film festivals of Berlin and the Copenhagen or the tech parks of California. Our happiness would no longer depend on the moods of people who wish us ill."
Matti Friedman's story has a bittersweet quality to it, a coming-of-age tale leavened equally with sorrow and humor. PUMPKINFLOWERS is a book that will often cause you to pause and reflect. The last veteran's memoir that moved me this deeply was Benjamin Busch's DUST TO DUST. Both books reflect on childhood, youth and pivotal, sometimes horrific, events that forever change how you view the world. Matti Friedman's all-but-forgotten little war mattered. Veterans will get that. I hope some others will too. My highest recommendation.
- Tim Bazzett, author of the Cold War memoir, SOLDIER BOY: AT PLAY IN THE ASA
This powerful story brings to the reader todayâs chaotic Middle East and the rise of a newer type of war in which there is never a clear victor especially with older static types of fighting them. Up in your face and mind and wonderfully written Pumpkinflowers will take its place among classic war stories. It is an straightf and in your face look at the way we conduct war today.
While the book contains several interesting stories, none of them on their own are particularly compelling or insightful. Along the course of the book he underscores how Israelâs decision to be in Lebanon was illogical and how the increasing costs of the semi-occupation finally outweighed any argument or justification for being there.
The most compelling part of the story was his return to the destroyed remains of the outpost several years after the withdrawal. In this portion, he describes well the slightly surreal experience of approaching the site from the Lebanese side (using his Canadian passport). This was the unique perspective that really brought the story togetherâto look at a place of war, now abandoned, its legacy and history still up for debate.
Perhaps it is this net ambivalence and lack of a clear victory or loss that ultimately raises the question bestâwas the cost worth it?
Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book with the expectation I would provide an honest review.
An advanced copy of this book was provided for an honest review.
I recommend this book for anyone interested in Middle East geopolitics or an unflinching look at the nature and reality of war.
While the book contains several interesting stories, none of them on their own are particularly compelling or insightful. Along the course of the book he underscores how Israelâs decision to be in Lebanon was illogical and how the increasing costs of the semi-occupation finally outweighed any argument or justification for being there.
The most compelling part of the story was his return to the destroyed remains of the outpost several years after the withdrawal. In this portion, he describes well the slightly surreal experience of approaching the site from the Lebanese side (using his Canadian passport). This was the unique perspective that really brought the story togetherâto look at a place of war, now abandoned, its legacy and history still up for debate.
Perhaps it is this net ambivalence and lack of a clear victory or loss that ultimately raises the question bestâwas the cost worth it?
Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book with the expectation I would provide an honest review.
For anyone unaccustomed to reading or understanding the realities of war, this will be a challenging read. I strongly recommend this book to anyone interested in military history, modern-day warfare or Middle Eastern politics.
The first thing one might wonder is what does a pumpkin have to do with the solder's walking on the cover? Pumpkin was a fortified outpost in the Israeli northern security perimeter inside southern Lebanon. As part of a string of bases with horticultural names â Pepper is an adjacent outpost â their purpose was to protect settlements in northern Israel from attacks launched from across the border. Instead of attacking civilians, the logic of the security zone went, Hezbollah would be forced attack fortified, trained, and armed Israeli soldiers who could kill the terrorists. Flower was the code word for combat fatalities.
Friedman divides Pumpkinflowers into four sections. In the first, he recounts the story of Avi, a soldier who arrived at the pumpkin in 1994 and served there prior to Friedman. Avi and his comrades were young men, with an average age of twenty, and trained for a traditional war, like the 1967 and 1973 Arab-Israeli Wars, with mass formations of armor and infantry. They were totally untrained and psychologically unprepared for the asymmetrical guerilla insurgency that faced them in almost daily Hezbollah attacks on the Pumpkin.
Nineteen ninety-seven was a turning point in the history of the Israeli presence in Lebanon. This is the subject of the second section of the book. Driven by an unusually high number of casualties, and several controversial events, a group of Israeli mothers questioned the purpose of the northern security zone. Why, they asked their government, are we still there?
Coming in the wake of the mothers protest movement, the author arrived at the pumpkin in 1998 for his military term of service. Friedman's personal experiences from his arrival through to the abandonment of the security zone in 2000 comprise part three. Like Avi, Friedman and his comrades arrived young and green at the Pumpkin. He tells their stories, sharing a full range of experiences from the humorous to the tragic. Like all soldiers they were driven not to let each other down and bound together by a shared, unique experience that only they understood. While the soldiers at the Pumpkin believed that they were doing the best thing for the nation, their countrymen seemed no longer to appreciate it. By-and-large Israelis believed that if they placated Hezbollah and withdrew from the fortified positions in Lebanon, that they would satisfy the enemy and bring peace and stability to the region. They dismissed Hezbollah's outrageous calls to eliminate Israel from the map as nothing more than a hyperbolic negotiating ploy. They were wrong.
In the fourth section, Friedman describes the post-Pumpkin world, both in terms of his personal life and as a turning point in the Middle East. Just as Americans were feeling the shock of 9/11, suicide bombings rocked Israel. Activated as a reservist for stints in 2001 and 2002, Freidman returned briefly to Lebanon. This was a new Middle East, but not the one that wishful Israelis had hoped for when the security zone was abandoned. Instead, widespread insurgency, religious war, and terrorism against "soft" civilian target ushered in the twenty-first century. The Pumpkin in this last section of the book haunts Friedman. It is not just his personal transition from front line combat to civilian life; it is how the destruction of the Pumpkin served as a powerful metaphor for the destruction of the very idea that there would ever be peace in the Middle East. He made the dangerous decision to return to Lebanon as a tourist to see the Pumpkin and the war he fought from the vantage point of his adversaries. Travelling on a Canadian passport, Friedman made a10,000 mile journey, to see the ruins of the Pumpkin. To me, this was the most interesting part of the book.
So what is
The book also explores and reflects on the dynamics of a conscripted army, which to boot has a really young officer corps. So there's plenty of what are the motivations of a conscript, a conscript of a "besieged" country, a conscript that may have been born in Israel or far away, a conscript that may or may not be a Jew.
Also this is not memoir, it would be more apt to describe this book as "the tale of a COP" or stretching it as "the tale of the last days of the security zone" (that being the security zone inside Lebanon that the Israeli armed forces used to police). And to tell that tale the author includes his own experiences in the zone as a chapter, but also he has interviewed plenty of other veterans and civilians involved in the story which made up the other chapters.
The book scores extra points for being written in a way in which each death comes as, not a surprise but, a shock. There's plenty of war books out there that when recounting the events make pretty clear what is coming and who is going to die, not this one, in this one even when you know that someone is going to die the final moment comes a shock.
If you were born in the late 70s or early 80s the constant reflections of the author about how much time has passed since the events narrated will probably resonate with you.
Finally, my only complaint is with the English used by the writer as it shows that he is more used to express himself in Hebrew ... but it more than makes up for it with his sense of humor ...
"After rotating out of the line and boarding a civilian bus home a girl soldier would sometimes slip in next to meâa clerk or instructor coming from one of the safe bases inside Israel where such olive-drab unicorns roamed free,..."