There has been some discussion amongst my family and friends regarding the appropriateness of my use of the term Death March in my blog page Dinner and a Death March.
I claim poetic license in the sense that “death march” is common in the vernacular of our times. It often serves as “gallows humor”, which is a coping technique used by many of us.
I offer further disclaimer in the text of Dinner and a Death March:
In fact, it was about then that we started our death march conversations, not because we suffered the abuse and deprivations of historical death march victims such as the American POW’s from World War 1I or the American Indians on the Trail of Tears. We weren’t being starved or beaten. We were, however, in a situation that could deplete our energy sources, and we did have reason to believe that our bodies could simply shut down, leaving us helpless on the side of the trail.
I also entered comment on the Washington Post story: Albert N. Brown, oldest survivor of Bataan Death March, dies at 105
The Bataan Death March occurred two months before I was born (1942). I owe the next 68 years of my life to Albert N. Brown and the men and women he served with during WW II. I doubt I can match his 105 years, but if I have but a drop of his courage I can look forward to a future full of hope. Thank you Albert! May you and your comrades long be remembered.
Since running is our chosen metaphor for life, I strongly recommend another incredible survival story, that of Louis Zamparini who became arguably the ultimate survivor due to his extended interment by the Japanese in World War II. Zamparini’s running laurels include being the youngest person (19) ever to make an Olympic team. His survival is chronicled in the novel Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand, simply a must read for everybody.