The Things They Carried: The Ghost Soldiers Summary & Analysis

O'Brien was shot twice. The first time was near Tri Binh and he landed on Rat Kiley's lap, which was fortunate because Rat was a medic. Kiley tied a compress onto O'Brien, told him to stay back, and then he ran back into combat. O'Brien praises Rat's bravery and skill.

When O'Brien returned to Alpha Company in December twenty-six days after he was shot, Rat Kiley had been wounded and taken to Japan. The replacement medic was Bobby Jorgenson. Jorgenson was new, terrified, and "incompetent." When O'Brien was shot the second time in the butt, Jorgenson took ten minutes to get to O'Brien because he had been too afraid to crawl over in the firefight. By the time Jorgenson reached O'Brien he was in severe pain, and it was later found out O'Brien nearly died of shock. Jorgenson didn't do a good job patching O'Brien up, and because of it weeks after that part of O'Brien's flesh started to rot off. O'Brien had to spend a month in the hospital on his stomach. O'Brien started thinking up ways to get back at Jorgenson.

By December's end, O'Brien was transferred to headquarters Company—S-4, "the battalion supply section," because the Army must have decided he'd "been shot enough." In comparison to being a foot soldier, it was a peaceful life, and O'Brien felt sort of safe for the first time in months. There was still a chance of dying, at least once a month they would be hit with mortar fire—but you can also die from a foul ball in a baseball stadium.

Though O'Brien sometimes misses the thrill of combat he knows his war is over. If it weren't for the constant pain in his butt things would have been fine, but the pain wouldn't subside and he had to keep sleeping on his stomach. Unable to sleep, he'd focus on his anger towards Jorgenson. Some nights when he couldn't sleep he'd go on long walks, thinking up ways to hurt Jorgenson and make him feel as O'Brien had when he thought he was dying.

In March, the Alpha Company came to the HQ. Mitchell Sanders, Azar, Henry Dobbins, Dave Jensen, and Norman Bowker all shook O'Brien's hand and he drove them to their quarters. They partied until it was time to eat, and then kept partying after. It was a ritual. Even if you didn't want to party, you "did it on principle." Once it reached midnight it was time for stories. Bowker tells the story of how Morty Phillips used up his luck. Azar insists that Phillips wasted away all of his luck on "nothing." O'Brien envied them in a way, and felt left out. They were all scratched up from the war they were still fighting and his clothes were pressed. They were still his friends, but things had changed. O'Brien felt like a civilian.

Bowker continues with the story of Morty Phillips. Near My Khe on a scorching day, everyone notices that Morty is missing. Two search patrols went out, but no one could find him. Morty shows up that night and it turns out he had gone swimming alone in a hostile area. A few days after the swim, he started to get really sick and Jorgenson concluded Morty must to have swallowed some water on his swim that gave him a virus. O'Brien asks where Jorgenson is at the sound of his name, but Bowker brushes it off to finish his story. Morty gets so sick that he becomes paralyzed. The men all agree that it shows that you can't go around using up all your luck. Everyone was quiet for a while thinking about the nature of luck. O'Brien asks where Jorgenson is to break the silence.

In the first day that Alpha Company was there, O'Brien didn't see Bobby Jorgenson. He nearly went searching for him, but Mitchell Sanders encouraged O'Brien to let it go. He said Jorgensen made a mistake, but he was new to the war and he's improved a lot. He kept Morty Phillips alive. Sanders says that things have changed, and Jorgenson is with them now. O'Brien asks if he isn't, and Sanders says "No…I guess you're not." Sanders walks away, and O'Brien felt angry but also grief. Soon they would all leave, and O'Brien would be left there. He felt betrayed.

The next morning O'Brien saw Bobby Jorgenson. Jorgenson was waiting at O'Brien's jeep for him. O'Brien was surprised. Jorgenson admits to O'Brien that he made a mistake and he apologizes. He confesses he couldn't move when O'Brien got hit, and asks if O'Brien ever felt that way. O'Brien says he hasn't. Jorgenson tries to ask again but O'Brien accuses him of making excuses. Jorgenson then says he made a mistake, no excuses. He feels terrible about the infections that O'Brien got, and has had nightmares about seeing O'Brien get shot again. Jorgenson made a sound and O'Brien thought he was going to cry, which O'Brien said would have ended it. But Jorgenson smiled forcefully and extended his hand. O'Brien glared at him and said it wasn't this easy to apologize for nearly killing him. Jorgenson kept his hand out, and he looked so genuinely upset that O'Brien felt guilty. But not guilty enough, because he left Jorgenson standing there and drove away. But he hated Jorgenson now for "making [him] stop hating him."

O'Brien says something had gone wrong; he didn't used to be a vengeful person. The war had turned him into a mean man, even cruel. In spite of his education and values there was now something dark and cold in him that he felt was capable of doing evil things. He wanted to hurt Jorgenson the way he had been hurt.

That afternoon, O'Brien tried to employ Sanders to help him spook Jorgenson, but Sanders refused. O'Brien resolved to use Azar, who was ready and willing. O'Brien told him to not get too carried away with it. O'Brien says that no one liked Azar that much, including O'Brien. O'Brien asked if Azar understood, and Azar winked and said it was, "Only a game, right?"

In Vietnam, the soldiers called the enemies "ghosts." The countryside of Vietnam was already scary at night, and it seemed like the whole place came alive at night with Charlie Cong as the main ghost. You never saw him, but you almost did, and you were afraid of him. In the daylight, it seemed like a joke. But at night you believed he was out there.

O'Brien almost calls off the plan a number of times. Sanders' comments made him want to cancel the plan, and if there had been a way out that was dignified he maybe would have taken it. That night at dinner he kept looking across the hall at Jorgenson, and when they made eye contact and Jorgenson kind of nodded at him, But looking at Jorgenson sitting with Dave Jensen and Mitchell Sanders, and fitting in really well, pushed O'Brien over the edge in deciding to go through with it.

That night, O'Brien and Azar follow Jorgenson as he goes out for his post. They watch Jorgenson get ready for the night. Azar compared Jorgenson to a roasted, sizzling pigeon on a spit. O'Brien reminds Azar this isn't "for real." But Azar claps him on the shoulder and asks, "What's real? Eight months in fantasyland, it tends to blur the line. Honest to God, I sometimes can't remember what real is."

O'Brien says psychology was key, and he knew how it worked. You don't scare people in the daylight, you wait because darkness forces you inside yourself, it cuts you off from the world, and your imagination becomes more powerful than ever.

Azar and O'Brien pass the time until it's late, then they get their gear from O'Brien's. O'Brien says it felt like he was a soldier again: they stayed quiet, keeping under the cover of darkness. When they reached Bunker Six, where Jorgenson was, Azar started to move away to circle south and O'Brien was reminded of old times.

O'Brien was thirty-two meters behind Jorgenson and even though it was dark he could see his silhouette. O'Brien prepared ten flares and reached for the ropes he'd set up earlier. But he felt the coldness in him; he wasn't himself. O'Brien took the first rope and tugged it, and there was a clatter outside of the wire near Jorgenson. Altogether there were eight ropes: four for O'Brien, four for Azar. Each one was connected to a noisemaker in front of Jorgenson's post. Then O'Brien tugged all four of his ropes, and he knew Jorgenson was listening because it seemed like the silhouette froze. Azar started too tugging too.

After taking a break to let Jorgensen's fear grow, O'Brien and Azar start with the ropes again, even louder than before. "There was nothing moral in the world. The night was absolute." They tugged the ropes to bring the noisemakers closer to Jorgenson's bunker. At 3 a.m. Azar set off the first flare. O'Brien fired off three more and "it was instant daylight." Jorgensen moved, and it sounded like he made a kind of cry, almost like a bark. He moved sideways and crouched near a pile of sandbags clutching his rifle. O'Brien whispered to himself that now Jorgensen knew what it felt like. O'Brien could read Jorgenson's mind, and together they understood terror. It strips your humanity, all you can do is wait, and now they shared that feeling. O'Brien felt close to Jorgenson but not in an empathetic way.

O'Brien bent towards Azar, and they're so close he can see the whites of Azar's eyes. O'Brien says they've done enough, but Azar won't have it. O'Brien says it's over, he and Jorgenson are even, and they're just rubbing it in if they keep going. But Azar just said "Poor, poor boy."

An hour before sunrise, O'Brien and Azar went into the last phase, but Azar was in control. As they approach the boulder pile, Azar checks the ropes and flares. He looks over to where Jorgenson is. He tells O'Brien he sort of feels like a kid again; that he loves Vietnam. O'Brien tells him to be quiet, but Azar continues, smiling. He asks O'Brien isn't this what he wanted, to play war games like you're in your backyard? Azar said it probably brought back memories for O'Brien for when he was a real soldier, except now he's a "has-been" who just plays soldier. He calls O'Brien "pitiful," and says he would rather die in battle than be him. O'Brien asks him to stop, but Azar keeps repeating that he's pitiful.

Azar returns to work on the ropes. O'Brien watched Azar and fire off another flare. O'Brien tried to say please but it wouldn't come out. There was a whimper, which O'Brien thought was Jorgenson's at first. Azar fired two more flares and threw a tear-gas grenade. O'Brien was begging Azar to stop, but he threw another. Then Azar went over to the rope they hadn't used yet: O'Brien's idea, a sandbag painted white on a pulley. Azar tugged the rope and the white sandbag hovered in the gas over bunker six. Jorgensen started to fire at the sandbag. Azar was excited by this and threw the last gas grenade, shot another flare, and then grabbed the rope to make the white sandbag dance. Jorgenson didn't lose it; he stood up quietly and aimed at the sandbag. His face seemed calm. He looked out into the dark, and then walked towards the sandbag. He put his rifle up to the sandbag. Jorgenson yelled O'Brien's name and fired. Azar said the show was over. O'Brien was still trembling. Azar looked at Jorgenson and then at O'Brien. He moved like he was going to help O'Brien up, then stopped, and as a kind of "afterthought," kicked O'Brien in the head. He walked off to go to sleep.

O'Brien insists to Jorgenson that the cut on his head isn't a big deal, but Jorgenson takes him to his bunker and uses a towel to wipe at the wound. They didn't talk for a long time. "So," Jorgenson said. "Right," O'Brien said. They shook hands and didn't make eye contact. Jorgenson pointed at the sandbag and said it was a nice touch. Jorgenson steadied O'Brien when he tried to stand and asked if they were even. O'Brien said they were, and he felt the same closeness he had before when he'd been shaking the ropes.

In the medic's hut, Jorgenson cleans and bandages O'Brien's gash to the forehead and then they both went to breakfast. O'Brien apologized and Jorgenson did too. Awkwardly, O'Brien suggested they should kill Azar. Jorgensen gave a half-grin, "Scare him to death, right?" O'Brien agreed. "What a movie!" Jorgenson said. O'Brien shrugged and then said, "Sure. Or just kill him."