#In the 1940's they were just like 'if men hurt women women should fight back and they should never forget this. Peace and love'

[autisticcassandracain]

You are absolutely correct and this is exactly what I was aiming at. Perez's run does a LOT of victim blaming regarding rape; this is entrenched into his backstory for Themyscira. In the golden age pre-crisis backstory, this victim blaming was entirely absent. The bracelets were a symbol to remind the Amazons never to submit to men again; they were a symbol of resistance against the violence men had brought into their lives. While the golden age backstory is obviously gender essentialist, it also seemed to have, ironically, much more compassion for victims of violence, and outright celebrated them fighting back.

Perez not only did away with this, but straight out promoted the opposite message; that victims fighting back against their abusers makes them just as bad, and is as equal a sin.

Antiope is why I can't brush Hippolyte and Heracles' relationship off as an honest mistake; someone genuinely failing to see the messaging here. Because Perez does literally the exact same thing he did with Hippolyte and Heracles AGAIN, with the sister who was supposed to be the unforgiving one. At this point, it's a pattern of rape apologism, especially if we factor in the work he did on the Judas Contract. I have a mighty hard time believing that it wasn't 100% intentional to show preferential treatment towards rapists. When your writing makes me seriously question whether you're actively advocating for rape apologism, we have a problem.

And god. The Bana-Mighdall. I'll be honest; I just couldn't get through the sheer amount of racism in that arc. I skipped it, and that was unofficially the end to my reading Perez's run, because it got nearly impossible to follow after skipping that much.

I am not against arcs about the importance of forgiveness, but Perez's writing centers it in a way that condemns any victim that does not immediately and irrevocably forgive their rapists and abusers. Anything less than total acceptance of them into society and into your heart is a moral failing. Furthermore, he goes the extra mile by blaming Hippolyte for the invasion of the city (or at least, not having the narrative refute her self-blame; forgive me if I'm confusing this with something else, it's been a while, but I distinctly remember Hippolyte blaming herself for getting the girdle stolen even though there was nothing she could've done). This leaves with a narrative that says 'what heracles did was wrong and bad, but what the amazons did in response was just as bad, and also it was their fault anyway'. It's despicable and it baffles me not a single writer at DC has attempted to address this (at least, not to my knowledge).

This is also why I simply do not buy anon's assertion that Perez deliberately made the gods worse. While certain gods are portrayed as horrifically shortsighted and/or incompetent (Zeus) and others as outright evil (Ares), the goddesses dealing with the Amazons are presented as fundamentally in the right for blaming the Amazons for fighting back against their abusers, and punishing them eternally for it. Paradise Island was called this for a reason, in the golden age; it was a refuge from the violence enacted upon the amazons, granted to them by a benevolent divine being as a response to another's violence. 'Paradise Island', in Perez's run, is explicitly a honeytrap; no matter how beautiful the outside, the inside is rotten, and it's the Amazons' job to guard it for all eternity as penance for killing those who beat, raped, and murdered them. It is not a refuge; it is punishment.

Genuine question: how the fuck did the Amazon origin story become infinitely more sexist the second time around, when we were supposed to have progressed our understanding of feminism?

Anyway, to get back to the gods: if it was Perez's goal to make them worse, to use them as a scapegoat, he would not have made them in the right in this. It would have been so easy to exploit the fact that the Greek Gods and Greek Mythology is chock full with rape and rape apologism; he clearly knew about this, considering he played into it in Challenge of the Gods. Aphrodite, one of the key gods in Themyscira's backstory, has an entire scene in the Iliad where she tells Helen to shut up and go serve her husband, lest she make an enemy out of her (Helen, in the Iliad, is a clear unwilling captive of Paris, now her husband). Perez could've easily framed them as hypocritical and unfair, working by outdated moral standards that benefit them and them alone.

But he didn't. Because he wanted his message to be that fighting back against your abusers is bad. That forgiveness trumps all, even common sense and self defense. That women who fight back against their rapists deserve to be punished.

Perez's gods are used as a moral compass. It's just pointing in the wrong direction.

So, Wonder Woman is basically Moon Knight. And of course the gods are even worse than myth ever since COIE because George Perez wanted to play the unreliable narrator trope with classical mythology. (Think Queen Hippolyta and Heracles.)

I’ve never read Moon Knight and know nothing about him so I don’t get what you mean hy that, and I can’t figure out what COIE stands for either, nor do I know what you mean when you say Perez ‘wanted to play the unreliable narrator trope’ (which is not a trope but a literary device, I’m sorry but I can’t resist being pedantic).

That said the greek gods in the comics are in no way worse than in the myths. Like at all. It is pretty much impossible to present the gods in a fashion worse than they were in Greek Mythology. Nearly all male gods are rapists. Nearly all gods in general are vain, prone to anger, and do not tolerate anything less than uncompromising worship. Almost all gods have atrocities on their hands, though the extent of them tends to vary from myth to myth and source to source.

Something to note is that there is not really a set 'canon’ to greek mythology. We have our primary sources, but they often contradict each other. A lot of our primary sources are also, in and of themselves, interpretations of stories that would’ve been well-known to the audience, but are unknown to us. What the gods did or didn’t do is heavily dependent on the source you’re reading. Euripides, in particular, is famous for casting the gods in a bad light and focusing on their flaws. He’s the one who wrote The Madness of Heracles (about Hera driving Heracles to madness in which he kills his wife and kid), Hippolytus (in which Aphrodite orchestrates the murder of a man for worshipping Artemis and disdaining her; the murder involves making his stepmother fall in love with him and then having her commit suicide), etc etc. Reframing myths to put more blame on the gods (or highlight that which was already there) is hardly a Perez original. The exact role the gods did or did not play in certain tragedies in greek mythology is often in flux.

The issue with Hippolyta and Heracles’ relationship is not with any mythological aspect; it’s because Perez himself decided that raping someone does not mean you can’t still have a romantic subplot with them.

In greek mythology, rape was almost universally glossed over and not seen as a big deal. Most if not all Greek heroes, and a lot of the gods, are rapists, and this is rarely presented as even so much as a character flaw. I am no classicist, I am not super familiar with ancient Greece’s attitude towards rape at the time most myths were codified, but Ancient Athens in particular had really shitty views on women, and since Athens was the cultural center of ancient greece, this is where a lot of our primary sources come from (in particular the plays), which absolutely influences the way women were portrayed in the texts. It is not that the texts are untirely unaware that rape is bad (just like they’re not entirely unaware that it sucks to be a slave), but when they choose to engage with it is highly selective. So, basically, rape was commonplace, and usually, the act of rape was not that big a deal.

This is not the case in Perez’s writing. In Perez’s work on Wonder Woman, rape is explicitly framed as a violent, evil act. He is clearly writing from a modern perspective, where rape is near universally condemned. But he then proceeds to handwave it anyway and write a romantic subplot between a rapist and his victim, multiple times. This is not a historical sourcetext from a long dead civilization that had wildly different values than our own; this is a modern text that should’ve known better. It is also not adequately explained by godly intervention (while Heracles’ rage and behaviour was influenced by the gods, he wasn’t outright possesed), and even if it was, this would still he a highly questionable thing to put in your writing. And even outside of Wonder Woman, Perez co-wrote the Judas Contract, which displayed a similar issue with rape apologism. His handling of mythology is not the issue here.

Once again, super not a classicist; I’ve never had an opportunity to study greek mythology, and my reading is limited to the Iliad, the Oresteia, the Bacchae, and assorted plays by Euripides (the guy mentioned above), as well as whatever stray academic papers I’ve managed to get my hands on. Notably, my knowledge of Heracles is emberassingly small. My historical knowledge is also really not impressive. I might very well be talking out of my ass here (and I’m certainly and intentionally missing nuance and detail bc I’m not getting into All That).

But to my view, while Perez’s hellenic gods were hardly the most mythologically accurate, he did not make them substantiably worse than they were in myth (in fact, a lot of his gods - like Aphrodite - were portrayed as substantiably more moral). And claiming that gods in comics are portrayed as morally worse BECAUSE of perez is honestly ridiculous. The idea that someone with even a base knowledge of greek mythology wouldn’t have decided to explore the fucked up aspects of the greek gods if perez hadn’t gone there first is honestly ridiculous.

[sleeplessincairo]

[ dating bucky barnes would include: ]

warnings: a somewhat vague sexual outline and a few cusses

///

Him walking around with a notebook everywhere. Bucky got the idea from Steve when he saw him writing new things to his modern day to-do-list, so Bucky decided to do the same except fill his notebook up with his old memories instead; anything he could remember from his life before being The Winter Soldier. At first, there were only a few pages filled but as his life starting to include domestic and mundane-as well as a healthy environment-activities, he started having spontaneous and soon-to-be-frequent flashbacks that, later on, contributed to dozens of notebooks filled with not The Winter Soldier, not Prisoner #56898, not White-Wolf, but James Buchanan Barnes.

You never mentioned the notebook to Bucky nor asked to read it-Bucky was a private person, and you understood and respected that-but you still started carrying a pen with you, just in case he ever needed one.

At first, the notebook(s) was/were filled with solely memories of his past-No matter how insignificant. Whether it was that time the toilet got clogged in his shabby little apartment and had to stay with Steve and Sarah Rogers for a week because he couldn't afford a plumber or that time he lost his shoe in bar brawl and some swanky chrome-dome gave him a few bucks to buy some shoes and a sock without a hole in it. He wrote everything his mind could clearly grasp. But as the two of you got closer, he started filling it with memories he had with/of you because-even if he would never admit it-you made him feel right at home.

You may or may not have stolen his dog tags from the Smithsonian museum just as a reminder that even after all the pain, despair, manipulation, and torture he still managed to be the good person he was all those years ago. He was still James Barnes, local heartthrob that volunteered at the soup kitchen during his free time, that fought a war and lost an arm during the process, that dreamt of flying cars and a future without all fights and wars, that had a soft spot for a certain trouble-attracting boy whose heart was too big for his body.

“Jesus doll, I didn’t know I was dating a thief.” “Oh James, I thought you’d already realized that when I stole your heart from right under your nose.”

Bucky’s not big on talking or directly verbally professing his love, but that’s okay; His eyes tell you everything. There was always something about Bucky’s eyes that were so mesmerizing, so captivating, you could instantly tell how he was feeling. Before you, his eyes resembled a pale arctic blue that were as cold as glaciers-His eyes were hollowed and empty, scratched raw from any emotion but your growing presence thawed them out, they warmed through the cold exterior of what was once The Winter Soldier and reminded you that the hottest fires burn blue.

He does, however, reference quite a few interesting slang choices from the 40′s, which is his own little way of demonstrating verbal affection, ranging from calling you ‘Doll’ & ‘Sweetheart’ to calling you ‘The Cat’s Meow’ & ‘Butter and Egg Fly’

He’s never been very invested in hygiene. It never really was something important for him since he was in the Army and BO was a pretty normal thing, and then he became The Winter Soldier and HYDRA never exactly gave him a bathtub-Not that he was in the right mindset to to care about it anyway-So you usually have to remind him to shower everyday-Not that you mind, it would usually end with the both of you showering together and you having the opportunity to wash his hair yourself.

Soon enough, Bucky gets real invested in hygiene, he starts reading about self-care routines, exfoliating, conditioning, and gets completely hooked. Secretly, he does it because he likes the routine, something mundane and fixed to do to keep him busy.

You’re the only one that gets to call him James. Something about the way you say it warms his heart, he’d focus completely on the way your mouth moves as you say it-It reminded him of the way his mother would say his full name before busting his chops about coming home all dirty but then later ruffling his thick hair and offering a plate of strawberry jam sandwhiches, or how the word was always lurking in the dark corners of his mind like the silhouette of a ghost he couldn’t seem to recognize until you brought it to life.

Him always reaching out for your hand when he feels out-of-place, outside, or honestly just all the time because it helps him feel secure and grounded.

Steve third wheeling the both of you all the time. No seriously, literally all the time. He spends more time in the apartment you and Bucky share more than his own to the point where you and Bucky wonder if he actually has one. 

Steve has a key to your place-Even though, the both of you never gave him a key in the first place-and has a habit of interrupting the both of you or walking in on the worst possible moments.

“Hey guys, what are ya doi-Oh...Sorry I didn't know-Buck, you don't need to throw-Jesus, okay, okay I’m going.”

“Who the hell does it look like I’m doing, Steve.”

Bucky being very insecure about his arm, he even refuses to touch you with that arm-Subconsciously, he’s afraid he’ll accidentally hurt you. At first, he only ever wears long-sleeved shirts and a glove even on the hottest days as if he’d somehow forget that there was a metallic limb under all the cotton, but slowly like molasses he starts accepting it. He starts wearing open finger gloves, then discarding the gloves, then wearing 3-quarter sleeves, then short-sleeved shirts, then sleeveless shirts, then finally feeling comfortable enough to take off his shirt in front of you which leads to a night filled with discarded clothing, the sounds of soft murmurs and reassurances, the rolling of each other’s names off each other tongues like a prayer, and the rustling of the blanket against the delicate movement of your intertwined bodies skin-on-skin, skin-on-metal as the both of you unravel thread by thread in each other’s arms.

Truth is, you love his metal arm, you love the way it’s cool against your warm cheek on hot summer nights, you love the splashes of light that kiss it every morning making it sparkle, you love the soft and soothing whirring noises it lets out breaking the silence in your room, you love it because it’s a part of him and God knows how much you love everything about this man.

Despite being the assassin that killed JFK, managed to get away with it, and mind boggle conspiracists for decades he’s a bit clumsy. He has a habit of accidentally breaking things and later on, not telling you about it.

"James Buchanan Barnes, I thought I developed super strength-and even asked Stark to do some tests on me, but apparently you just happened to forget to mention and explain why the fuck doors are falling off their hinges!"

Losing sleep with Bucky. He tends to have very frequent and graphic nightmares which leads to various panic attacks and the inability to sleep, and you're more than happy to stay up with him and comfort him. Sometimes you’d talk while he listened and watched the way your lips moved or the way the pony tail you had gone to bed with loosened and hundreds of strands escaped the grasp of the hair band or the way a yawn would escape your lips and your hand would momentarily rise to cover your mouth but get lazy halfway, other times you’d lay in each other’s arms in complete silence while you traced patterns on his chest and trail kisses across his skin.

You being his anchor. You holding him tightly and assuring him that he’s okay, that you're here, that you're real, that he’s out, that he’s safe, and many other tender 3-worded sentences uttered over and over again like a mantra until he’s murmuring them back into your chest. 

Sometimes, when he has really bad nightmares and panic attacks you grab his notebook and start reading the memories out loud while you lay his head on your lap and run your hand through his hair in a calming manner until he calms down. It soon becomes a regular thing where you read him a memory before he goes to bed like a bedtime story.

Bucky Barnes is a man who was tortured and tormented for years, a man whose life was ripped right from his very arms along with his very own arm, a man who has gone through a long and unforgettable journey where he has learned to cope, grow, accept, and embrace himself and now he’s made it his mission to encourage and help others to do the same, whether they're struggling with their sexuality, amputation, mental illness, gender, or general self-acceptance.

You educated him about women’s rights because things are a lot different then in the 1940s; women are no longer obligated to get married, cater to a man’s every whim, have children, and other traditional gender roles. At first, Bucky’s very confused and doesn't understand why feminism is so important-I mean, lets face it, Bucky was raised in a traditional society and was later on manipulated to being a bloodthirsty assassin and now suddenly, he can think on his own and his life has turned completely upside down from thinking his own thoughts without HYDRA around to thinking past social constructs and norms so its normal for him to be a bit weary. However, you're there to explain thoroughly about how unjust society still is and how women may have won a few battles but still have a war to fight in a society where they are hyper-sexualized, mistreated, and controlled, and Bucky immediately thinks of Peggy Carter and how the men used to catcall her, how they raked her body with inappropriate stares, how she was ignored and seen as a pretty face, and then he finally understands. 

Dozens of articles about mysterious beatings of assaulters around New York.

His metal arm is decorated with dozens of pins, magnets, and stickers of all the movements he supports. Oh man, you should see him during Women’s marches and Pride fairs, considering all the black he usually wears seeing him dressed in bright colors or a pink shirt that says ‘On Wednesdays, we destroy the patriarchy’. It’s a sight that truly belongs in the history books.

Bucky breaking hold of the toxic masculinity he was subjected to in the 1940s and advocating for men to be able to display their God-given emotions freely, to not feel obligated to put on a tough guy front, to telling boys its okay to cry, to feel, to act, to wear, and to be whomever they please to be. 

Bucky visiting youth centers and giving advice and support to the kids there. Every kid he meets reminds him of Steve, whether its in their stubbornness, taste for trouble, lostness, or the glimmer of potential he sees in every single one of them. He remembers every single name of the teenager he meets and later on, uses them as a mantra whenever he’s undergoing a panic or anxiety attack as well as use SHIELD’s equipment to check up on them every once in a while.

Bucky going to children’s hospitals every week to cheer up the little kids there. He ends up being quite the inspiration and their ‘Favorite Superhero’ for the kids with amputations there and they end up being one of the very few people who are allowed to touch his metal arm. Something about the way their eyes shine with hope and their hands melt at the feeling of the metal warms his heart and his insecurities.

[writing-mermaid]

Siren, part 2 : Concentrating my moves, I'm on a mission

Summary : Y/N is a mutant, a Siren, the last of her kind, with deadly dangerous powers and a hidden past. If most of the Avengers likes and get along with her, Steve doesn’t, and it’s getting worse when Y/N and Bucky become close. After all what can bring two broken souls together if it’s not a dark past.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings : Fight, mention of injuries and blood. 

Word Count : 1 643

Square Filled : @buckybarnesbingo : Free square

Author’s note : Second part, I hope you guys will still like it. Thanks for the few responses I had for first part and I hope this will not disappoint you. This story my entry for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan ‘s Little Darlin’s Mystery AU Challenge, the prompt I chose is Siren AU. I also made a library blog in case the tags don’t work, so feel free to follow @writing-mermaids-library and to turn the notifications to know when I post something new here. Don’t forget that feedback is appreciated and really important.

Song of the title : Bad Blood - Jess Glynne

Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Bingo masterlist

Siren masterlist

Buy me a ☕

A little more than an hour later, I make the plane land a few feet away from HYDRA's warehouse.

  “So, what's the plan ?”, Bucky asks, looking down at me.

“I don't really know”, I answer, tucking one of my blue strands, one of the results of my mutation, the only visible sign, behind my left ear. So, if you see a girl with Y/H/C hair scattered with blue hair, that's me. “Maybe we just get in, being careful that nobody sees us, take pictures and probably blow up whatever they're up to.”

“Sounds like a plan”, he answers, a half smile on his lips, pushing the button that opens the back of the Quinjet, before going outside, a gun in his hand.

  I grab my fight sticks, same kind as those as Natasha has, and follow him. It's a total wasteland. No sign of life except around the HYDRA facility. We silently move to the fence, once there, I take out of my belt a tiny scissor to cut it.

  “Lady's first”, Bucky whispers, holding it for me, and I lightly step through the opening I made.

  We slowly walk to one of the entries. Bucky slips behind one the guards and knocks him out, while I take care of the second guard, by poisoning him with my fingers with the sleeping poison I have in my body, just by wrapping my hand around his ankle. Well, I hope for him that it's the sleeping poison or in a few minutes, he’s going to be stone dead.

  “There are two locks for that door. They have to be open in sync.”

“And they need this”, I say, rising on my feet, with two opening cards in my hands.

“Well done, Siren”, he smirks at me.

“Please, don't call me that, Winter Soldier”, I answer, matching his facial expression.

  Siren, that’s the made-up name the Avengers, well Nat, gave me when I was recruited. And she’s right I’m a Siren, the literal definition, or almost. I literally can enchant men and women and kill them. I’m deadly dangerous, even if I look like an innocent and fragile thing, that’s why I have to take suppressors and why I don’t let anyone touch me. The only one that never were affected by my power were my parents and some members of my family, because we shared the same blood.

  “Ready ?”, he asks, and I nod, “one, two, three.”

  We slide the cards at the same time and the door opens. Bucky looks inside, before nodding towards me, a silent way to say that the pathway is clear. We both step inside and look around, Bucky with his assault gun between his hands, my glowing sticks in mine. We progress in the facility silently, trying to not get detected by HYDRA's henchmen. Bucky opens the path and I follow him, watching our back. We finally step into a huge room, full of alembics.

  “What the hell is that ?”, I hear Bucky whispering.

  We progress in the room, looking closer at the see-through containers. Some are full of a transparent liquid, the others of some kind of colored gaz.

  “I don't know”, I murmur back, “but I'm not really reassured by this.”

  A loud bang makes Bucky grab my arm and suddenly, I'm trapped between a wall and his toned, muscular body. I raise my head and my gaze crosses his bright blue eyes.

  “What...”

  He shushes me by putting a finger on his mouth, ordering me to stay silence. I hardly dare to breath.

  “Fuck, can't you be more careful with this ?”, a male voice yell.

“Sorry, it's heavier than I thought”, a second male voice answer. “Anyway, what's in that ? What's that gas ? Is it dangerous ?”

“I don't know, but look it's leaking, you might have unscrewed the plug”, the first one tells his comrade. “Seriously, we were just supposed to take this from point A to point B, but you had to drop it. Now put the cap back on and stop asking stupid question.”

  I breath heavily, afraid to be discovered, because, I'm less stealth than Bucky, when he's at least two or three times bigger than me. I can almost feel every muscles of his body against mine through my suit. Bucky must feel my panic because he takes one of my gloved hands in his, plunging his eyes into mine. The two HYDRA hands men finally leave, and he steps back.

  “It was a close call !”, he says.

“Yes, thanks.”

  I walk past him and try to see if something is written in front of the containers. I can hear Bucky sighing behind me.

  “This thing smells strange, don't you think ?”, he questions me.

“No, I don't think it smells weird”, I answer, trying to have a clue on what are the gas and liquid stocked here. “I don’t even smell anything, just HYDRA’s awful smell.”

  I continue to look around. There's no clue about anything. Suddenly, a pair of lips are attached to the nape of my neck.

  “What the hell are you doing Barnes ?!”

“You smell so good. You're intoxicating me”, he says, burying his nose in my hair.

“Let go of me”, I hiss, trying to unhook his arms that he snaked around me.

“Come on”, he adds, “I want it and I know you do too”, he slide his left hand to my arm in order to lift my sleeve to touch my skin.

“Stop it !”, I clench my teeth, knowing that I can’t get rid of the man who at least weight three or four times my own weight.

“You’re driving me crazy, that smell, of yours, I can’t resist it.”

  And it clicks in my head, the last time I heard this was before I had suppressors, before those who worked, a scientist said those exact words to me, and everything his clear. That gas is made of either my blood, either my cells. This has exactly the same power as I do, the one that makes everyone uncontrollably attracted to me. I try to make up a plan to get rid of Bucky without hurting, or worst, kill him. The dots of my brain connect quickly with an idea.

  “Actually”, I tell him, turning in his arms, “I think you have read my mind and you and I can have a little fun, don’t you think ?”, I wink at him seductively, sliding my hands on his strong arms. “So first, why don’t you kiss me”, I whisper, approaching my face to his, my lips grazing his.

  My left hand stays on his right arm while my left hand finds its way on the back of his neck. He leans towards me and I push a little on his nape to force him to lock his mouth to mine. His lips are soft against mine and I’m surprised about this, I never thought that Bucky Barnes would have such soft lips. His lips are moving against mine and as I did for the HYDRA hand man, I concentrate to make him sleep, or Steve Rogers will have one more reason to hate me. Well, I think that the fact that I put his best friend to sleep by a kiss during a mission might be one too. After a few seconds, I feel him stumble towards my body. I try my best to catch him before he falls flat on his face.

  “Sorry Barnes”, I murmur, “but you didn’t give me a choice.”

I manage to drag him behind one of the alembics, praying that no one will find him or that he will wake up too soon and try to jump on me again. I pull out of my pouches a few bombs and their detonators. I start to place them around the tanks, moving as fast as I can and program them. Five minutes should be enough for me to pull Bucky outside and go back to the Quinjet.

  “Ok, now let’s take care of you 1940’s man”, I state, turning to where I left Bucky before setting my bombs.

  I grab his metal arm and start to haul him to the Quinjet. He is heavy and I do this task as fast and as quietly as I can. I finally manage to go back to the fence and push the soldier through it. I take a look at the device connected to the bombs’ detonators, I have a few seconds now before the bombs explode. I go back to my burden and pull him again to the jet. I don’t see on the way back the two men we knocked out when we arrived, and to be honest, I don’t really have time to think about it. I don’t even reach the jet’s door when the warehouse explodes throwing me a few meters away from Bucky’s sleeping form. I land badly on my right hand felling it twist under my weight, and blood flowing from my left hand. Maybe I shouldn’t have put so many explosive blocs, but I wanted to be sure that everything would be destroyed. I can’t straggle, I have to put Bucky in the jet and leave that place before HYDRA’s men come after us. I go back on my feet and manage, clenching my teeth because of the pain, to pull the Winter Soldier again, the blood of my hand drenching his sleeve. I open the jet’s door with the button on my belt, bless Tony for that, and pull a little more my sleeping partner. I abandon him on the ramp, heavily panting while the door closes. I can’t even breathe for a second because I know that we have to leave now. I take back my place behind the commands and take off.

Taglist :

@the-geeky-engineer, @feelmyroarrrr, @winterschild999, @realgreglestrade, @hellomissmabel, @mandy19875, @howlingbarnes, @belleetlabeast, @theashhole, @sebbytrash, @crazychick010, @bionic-buckyb, @callamint, @just-another-fangirl777, @learisa, @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt, @mokacoconut, @marvelbase001-blog, @thefiregypsy, @snowyseba, @theycallmebucky, @buckysberrie, @speakcroissant, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @tequilavet, @iamwarrenspeace, @melconnor2007, @jamesbarnesappreciationclub, @mrshopkirk, @poealsobucky, @maiden-of-gondor, @jurassicbarnes, @abovethesmokestacks, @thisismysecrethappyplace, @arawynn, @sebbys-girl, @captainrogerss, @murdocksmartinis, @supersoldierslover, @totallynotashieldagent, @crazy-little-thing-called-buck, @4theluvofall, @supernaturaldean67, @prettyyoungtragedy, @papi-chulo-bucky, @just-a-kj-blog, @lenavonschweetz,  @forever-graphically-frozen,  @buckysglow, @winterscldicr, @whothehellisbella, @bethanystan​, @asirenscalling​, @after-avenging-hours​, @winchester-with-wings​, @angryschnauzer​,  @callingmrsbarnes​, @suz-123​, @writingruna​, @sugardaddytonystark​, @angelicthor​, @thatawkwardtinyperson​, @themistsofmyavalon​, @redgillan​, @loricameback​, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​, @farfromjustordinary​, @you-and-buckyb​, @bucky-made-me-do-it​, @lovelykhaleesiii​, @newmooneyfanfiction​, @lovely-geek​, @fanfictionjunkie1112​, @thefanficfaerie​, @littlemarvelfics​, @cordytriestowrite​, @firefly-in-darkness​, @caplanreads​, @my-emotional-self​, @searchingforbuckyfavs​, @buckybabybaby​, @i-alyssa​,

[365days365movies]

February 23, 2021: His Girl Friday (1940) (Part 1)

Oh, we’re going BACK for this one!

Yeah, this is smack dab in the Golden Age of Cinema! Post-depression, the cinematic culture boomed like CRAZY. Obviously, this age had started before this point, but there was no stopping Hollywood here. I mean, in 1940 alone, Disney came out with Pinocchio AND Fantasia, films like The Grapes of Wrath, The Great Dictator, and Rebecca came out, and some of those were prefaced by short cartoons featuring a brand new certain someone.

Oh, also, there was some war of the world 2 thing going on overseas, I dunno. But anyway! Another well-known film that came out that year was The Philadelphia Story, a George Cukor-directed film starring Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn, and one of a subgenre of comedies called the screwball comedy.

Arguably starting with the 1934 film It Happened One Night, these are romantic comedies that usually feature a self-confident and stubborn female protagonist inevitably falling in love with the male protagonist, who’s probably initially mismatched with her, personality-wise. You should also throw some slapstick comedy, disguises (cross-dressing’s a feature of a lot of these, weirdly), and class struggle. Yeah, also apparently a trend of these films, that were CRAZY popular from 1934 through the ‘40s.

And in case you’re thinking, “That plot structure sounds familiar, where have I heard that before?”, well, I just watched a later-era screwball comedy, Pillow Talk.

But today, the screwball comedy’s mostly disappeared. Some tropes survive, but the reason for the genre’s extinction is simply because of lack of demand. Part of that is because the genre emerged due to questions of class struggle post-Great Depression. Yeah, seriously, the Great Depression is involved in this shit! Obviously, though, that’s not currently as much of a stressor now, so this genre is dead save for some conventions.

But OK, screwball comedy. Why not look at older members of the genre, rather than this film from smack dab in the middle of it? Well, a few reasons. One, this film stars leading man Cary Grant in his prime. And two, because this film was directed by the one and only Howard Hawks.

Hawks directed yet another Grant-Hepburn vehicle, Bringing Up Baby. And yes, that IS a leopard in a car! I’d watch that this month, but I’ve already seen it. Anyway, Hawks is an understated but excellent director, and his female characters are an archetype in and of themselves, known as Hawksian women. They’re tough-talkers, and the main characters of most old screwball comedies.

OK, but Hawks had a lot of romance films with these characters, so why His Girl Friday? Well, other than knowing it from pure reputation as a good movie, it’s also been called one of the best romcoms of all time, and it’s one of his highest rated films as well. And honestly...I kinda just wanted to watch it based on the premise, which is...interesting. But OK, enough navel-gazing. On with the show! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We start in a newspaper office in the year 1940, where “Hildy” Johnson (Rosalind Russell) has arrives with her fiancee, Bruce Baldwin (Ralph Bellamy), a sweet man who clearly loves her. Shit. He’s the guy destined to be left behind for the actual love interest of the movie Goddamn it, OK.

Anyway, Hildy apparently used to work here, although I’m not sure of the capacity as of yet. She’s only here now to visit her ex-husband, chief editor Walter Burns (Cary Grant). Their reunion is a bt icy, although Walter still seems to be in love with her still, while Hildy’s absolutely not interested. For now.

And as the two have a back-and-forth, I gotta say, GODDAMN is this some snappy dialogue! Fast-paced, but well-written and understandable all the same. It shuld also be noted that this film was adapted from a 1928 play, The Front Page, and it shows in how these two are playing in front of the screen. Their chemistry’s basically immediate, and you sense an unseen history between them easily.

What I’m saying is, it’s great. Anyway, the two have gotten divorced, and while Walter originally agreed, he’s now fighting the divorce to stay with Hildy, even though she doesn’t want that at all. He’s been calling her constantly, and bugging her. He also talks over her, trying to prevent her from getting a word in edgewise, and Hildy ain’t fuckin’ HAVING that shit!

He asks her to come back to work for him as a reporter (THERE’S the connection to the office), and if that doesn’t work out...they can get married again? Yeah, Walter, Jesus, take a hint. She tells Walter that she’s not coming back to him, and not coming back to work on the paper.

The two, through increasingly impressive dialogue, argue intensely, which is capped off by this well-timed and impressive dodge by Walter, followed by a crack that her aim used to be better.

This movie...holy shit, this movie. Anyway, through the argument, Walter gets a call and pretends that one of his reporters called out sick, in order to get Hildy to work one more job for him. Whoof, that’s manipulatiiiiiiive. But she breaks through his constant pressing to finally tell him that she’s now engaged, and is quitting the newspaper business.

Walter insists that quitting would kill her, s she’s a “newspaperman,” which is interesting. But she’s tired of it all, and wants to live a respectable, normal life, as she says. Her fiancee is an insurance man, which Walter notes is too boring. But Hildy notes that he’s kind, sweet, and considerate, and wants a home and children, and her mind is made up.

Walter relents (seemingly) , and gives Hildy his blessings. However, he decides that he wants to meet Bruce in person, and goes out to say hello, That results in...what is legitimately a VERY funny interaction between Water, Bruce, and a random-ass dude named Pete Davis. It is...it is funny.

So, for the record, Walter’s a verbally-manipulative asshole, and...I kind of like him? Like, he’s an ABSOLUTE DICK, but also a charmer. He quickly coerces Hildy and Bruce into getting lunch at a local place. There, we learn that the two are planning on moving to Albany, where Bruce is confident that the insurance business is strong. I’ve been to Albany, and I can see that.

Walter, during the lunch, is once again a DICK, doing his best to intimidate Bruce and sabotage their plans to leave for Albany that day. He makes his way to the phone, where he schemes with Duffy (Frank Orth) to keep her in town. Back at the table, he tells her of the case of Earl Williams.

Williams is, apparently, a man recently convicted of shooting a police officer...who was black...and they use a word to describe him that begins with a C...that makes me uncomfortablllllllllllle. But it’s 1940, so it could be FAR worse. Anyway, he’s going to be executed, even though he claims that he’s innocence. And while Hildy’s intrigued by the case, she refuses to cover it for Walter.

UNTIL, that is, Walter offers to buy an insurance policy from Bruce for $100000 in 1940 money, which means a commission for $18,000 in today’s money. Uh...yeah. Yes, please. And yet, Bruce says NO, not wanting to involve his future wife in his affairs, like a GODDAMN GENTLEMAN. But Hildy don’t give a FUCK, and basically accepts the deal for him. And, uh, I DO NOT blame her, that’s a lot of goddamn money!

Understandably not trusting Walter, she has Bruce give her all of the money that they have, to his equally understandable reluctance. Because there is NO WAY that she isn’t gonna lose all of that money. We find out from a group of reporters staying near the prison that Williams is to be hung tomorrow, and that he’s a bookkeeper that was recently unemployed.

Meanwhile, after a doctor’s check-up, Bruce and Walter write up the life insurance, and Walter tells Bruce to make Hildy his beneficiary. And Bruce is understandably awkward about that, but Walter ends up convincing him, the smooth and conniving DICK that he is.

Duffy walks in to give Walter a check for more money than originally intended, and it’s even been certified! Which is...odd, but OK. Bruce calls Hildy to let her know, and she’s very suspicious. She tells Bruce to put the check in the lining of his hat, claiming that it’s an old journalist’s superstition (it is not). Looks like she’s right to be suspicious, as Walter brings in a short gentleman for unknown reasons. He follows Bruce out as he leaves the office.

Meanwhile, Hildy brides a prison guard to speak with Earl Williams (John Qualen) before his execution. He’s a shy and bookish man, who was thought to become radicalized by people speaking in a pubic park, where he went after losing his job. This, it’s believed by the press and court, eventually drove him to go insane and kill the policeman. 

But Earl seems perfectly sane, and committing murder goes against his morals. He also wasn’t won over by said radical park speakers, although he admits one of them made some good points. But still, he had a gun, and he apparently did shoot the policeman. 

In their interview, Hildy learns that the man in the park was talking about “production for use”, which is the idea that everything produced should be used, basically in a way that production meets demand, and profit is less important than product. Which, granted, is an interesting idea. But Hildy uses that to convince Earl that he shot the gun because he had it in his hands. And since the gun was produced, it needed to be used, so...

Well, that’s...something. We also learn about Mollie Malloy (Helen Mack), who’s been unfairly labeled by the press as Earl’s mistress and the witness to his case. And she gives a very passionate and heartfelt plea with the male journalists, who are...vicious. And Mollie’s hurt indeed. And while she’s there, they all treat her terribly.

But she breaks down in front of them even further when she sees the gallows being prepared outside. And as Hildy takes her out, the men left behind actually do seem ashamed. And in a single stroke, in a single scene, the film uses an immense moment of drama to show exactly why Hildy wants to leave, and the things that it makes people in this profession do. It’s...masterful.

Good place to pause! See you in Part 2!

[cake-writes]

Fleeting

Pairing: 1940′s!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: War References, Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Love is like war: easy to begin, but too hard to stop.

James Buchanan Barnes was weak for a woman in uniform.

He didn’t know what triggered it in him: the novelty of women in the workforce over the past few years, ever since the war began; the fact that pretty girls were such a commodity for deployed soldiers, except on a long-awaited furlough; or the knowledge that he was putting his life on the line for a future with a beautiful dame someday, white picket fence ‘n all. 

Probably a mix of all three.

He’d always had a particular fondness for secretaries, so primed, primped, and dolled up for work and play. By the time he shipped out to Europe, cheesecakes were all the rage: photos of scantily-clad women that he and the other GI’s pinned up to the wall. Rosie the Riveter was a particular favourite amongst the 107th.

But the nurses.

Christ, those beauties – strong, beautiful women who saw more blood and gore than him, radiant flowers in a hellish wasteland. The brutality of war was a horror better left unseen, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for what was right. 

You were, too.

The two of you met in Azzano.

In October of 1943, a large portion of the 107th had either been killed or taken prisoner. Wounded soldiers who made their way back were tended to by your gentle hand, but the imprisoned men rescued in November were in far worse condition, having been experimented upon by the enemy in an act of savagery. 

He was one of them. 

Physically, he wasn’t too bad off. Just a couple of cuts and bruises, nothing to write home about. Predictably, he hammed it up, whined that it hurt and asked, “Gonna kiss it better, sweetheart?” when you were done bandaging him up. You’d heard it all before. Soldiers liked to flirt.

But those eyes. His eyes were the softest blue, almost like a dream.

The kiss he pressed to the back of your hand made your heart flutter in your chest. His skin was calloused and rough against yours, chapped and dry from constant scrubbing.

As for his name:

Bucky, he said it was. Bucky Barnes.

 Over the next few days at camp, he visited you in between his briefings and kept you company during your breaks. In the beginning, you’d been reluctant. It wouldn't do you any good to get attached here, but you did anyway. He bribed you with coffee, which the two of you shared outside the makeshift hospital. Coffee quickly turned to cigarettes and laughter.

Bucky Barnes was a bad influence – a bad influence with a penchant for making you blush. 

There was a certain innocence in the time you spent together. More than once you were forced to take shelter from the rain in the nearby storage tent, just you and him, stifling and sweet all at once. Despite the awful things he'd been through, he always offered you a weary smile and a kind shoulder right when you needed it most.

But time was fleeting, and all too soon, he was granted furlough. Back to London. Back to normality.

A ration of chocolate was his parting gift to you.

Red lipstick on his cheek was yours.

The next time you saw him was in France, on New Year’s Eve. 

There were no festivities, for the small town had been bombed a few days prior and only a handful of structures remained. Your nurses’ station was one of them, a ramshackle setup in one of the few remaining buildings, the safest: three reinforced stories made of stone. 

Everywhere he went, he looked for you. He wasn’t sure why. If he was honest, it was wishful thinking – you’d never see each other again. War had a tendency to end friendships before they could even begin, not to mention lives.

Somehow, he found you anyway. Amidst the death, there you were, a beacon of light in the darkness. Unforgettable.

The smile on your face when he tapped you on the shoulder made his heart warm. Your eyes almost seemed to glow in the moonlight, and for the umpteenth time, he was rendered speechless.

The two of you soon found yourselves on the rooftop, sharing a cigarette like you’d done so many times before. Your soft laughter spilled over the ledge until you peered out at the ashes and rubble below, a harsh reminder of where you were. Europe. Not home. The front lines were just a few clicks up the road, where he’d be headed in the morning.

Time was fleeting. 

At the stroke of midnight, Billie Holiday came on the radio, achingly beautiful in the otherwise silent night. He pulled you up for a dance, slow and sweet, and for a moment everything was right in the world. Just for a moment.

I'll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you 

He caught another glimpse of you in early March of 1944. 

Spring had arrived in Monte Cassino. The flowers were just starting to peek through the melting snow, but the battle raged on. 

He'd been heading out of town on the back of a truck full of his fellow soldiers, but the moment he saw you in the crowd, he jumped up and shouted your name loud as hell. Copped a few looks from it from Steve and the boys, but he didn’t care.

You heard him plain as day, but you didn’t spot him until after a small bundle of letters landed on the ground in front of you. When you looked up, you found him waving with a grin on his face so contagious, you couldn’t help but smile back. 

Letters. He’d written you letters. 

He just hadn’t known where to send them.

There was one for every week you’d been apart. Eleven letters. Eleven ways to show he cared, and with each one you fell for him just a little more. He wrote to you about his travels, about the things that got him through it all: a field of wildflowers, one of which he’d dried and placed inside the envelope; a quiet farm in Italy, seemingly untouched by the war; Valentine’s Day spent in a cold, wintery trench, made tolerable only by how much he wished you were with him, keeping him warm.

By some miracle, he’d given you an address on the off-chance you wanted to write to him, too. By some other miracle, you did. Whenever he received one, his fingers traced your curly script.

Dear Sergeant.

Dear James.

Dear Bucky.

The one constant was that you always signed your letters with love.

It wasn’t until the 5th of June that you saw each other again, when you opened the door to a bouquet of flowers.

You’d been relieved of your duties for a week – furlough, in a way. London wasn’t bustling like you expected it to be, but bombed and weary. So were your fellow nurses, a handful of whom you’d met before. The all-female dormitory should have allowed you to decompress, but you couldn’t relax at all knowing what was happening to the world.

The moment you saw those soft blue eyes peeking over the bouquet, however, your worries ceased to exist. 

For the first time, he was able to take you on a proper date. The sweet scent of your shampoo helped him forget that he’d be heading back out in the morning, to yet another Hydra facility. It was his duty to serve, but what he really wanted was to serve you.

He couldn’t entertain that thought knowing that he might not come back. 

He did anyway.

You were sure that the movie was enjoyable, but all you could focus on was the warm, heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders. If only you’d met in peacetime, then maybe your blossoming relationship would have a fighting chance of survival. As it was, there was no guarantee that either of you would make it through.

You couldn’t let yourself hope. 

You did anyway.

All the tension fell away after the movie, when he took your hand and laced your fingers together, like it was the most natural thing in the world. In some way, it was.

Although you couldn’t have walked any slower on the way back to your doorstep, time was fleeting and all too soon, it was time to say goodbye. The two of you could hear the other nurses giggling as they peered out the windows, waiting for what you both desperately wanted, a kiss – but he was a gentleman.

He knew how unlikely it would be for him to survive Normandy, so he let you go.

 In the morning, you woke far too early in hopes that you’d be able to see him off. The trucks were already on their way out of town by the time you got outside – noisy, just like your heartbeat in your ears as you anxiously searched for him amongst the other soldiers. 

The gleam of a brightly-coloured shield was what caught your attention, and there he was sitting next to it amidst a heated discussion with the rest of his team. At your shout of his name, his eyes swept over the crowd until he spotted you right in front, waving. You quickly tossed him a gift, a little something wrapped in a delicate floral handkerchief.

He caught it easily. You had impeccable aim.

What he found hidden inside the fabric was a ration of chocolate just like the first time he’d said goodbye, along with a little note in familiar script: 

You come back to me, Bucky Barnes.

And he did. 

August 25th. The waning edge of summer. The weather was lovely, bright and sunny to match the jovial mood throughout the encampment. Paris had been liberated at last – a small victory, but a victory nonetheless and one step closer to ending the war.

In your hands was a bag of bread, which fell to the ground when you saw him there, standing right in front of you like nothing had changed. Before you could even react, his lips were hot on yours, a searing brand of love and passion and months of pent-up adoration. 

James Buchanan Barnes took your breath away.

“I love you,” he told you over and over again, pressing kisses to your face, your cheeks, your forehead – as if he could never kiss you enough. “Love you too damn much, sweetheart.” 

In between his kisses and your happy tears, you couldn’t help but smile. 

It didn’t matter that time was fleeting. 

You loved him, too.

References, if you’re a history nerd like me:

Battle of Azzano (not real), October-November 1943 (x)

Battle of Monte Cassino (real), January-May 1944 (x)

D-Day/Normandy Landings (real), June 6, 1944 (x)

Liberation of Paris (real), August 25, 1944 (x)

[cryptoriawebb]

My extensive, expansive Wonder Woman review

So I’ve been working on this for about a week now, and I’m pleased to say I’ve finally finished. 

I didn’t expect this movie to resonate so deeply, so please, bare with me. I’ve got a lot to say.

Wow.

Just wow.

I am beyond blown away by Wonder Woman. I wanted so badly for it to be a good movie, beyond the reasons floating around on the internet. Yes, she is a female super hero, yes, she’s the first one in this modern era to receive a solo film and yes, and yes, in many ways, and yes, she’s the most well-known female hero, dating back to the Second World War. Those are all impressive and important things to recognize…but Wonder Woman, Diana, is so much more than simply an icon with impressive credentials. Going into this movie, I wanted to get to know her as a character, follow her along her journey; experience what she did and feel what she felt as she evolved from Amazonian princess into the wise and worldly hero protecting our modern world. I wanted to like her, vouch for her, the way I never did beyond my own cultural nostalgia. She was one of the few highlights in the train wreck that was Batman v Superman; I wanted more of that.

Needless to say, this movie delivered and more.  Diana not only stood on her own, offering in my opinion a protagonist everyone could root for and relate to in some way, but she also existed harmoniously with her co-stars, forming real, heartwarming (and heartbreaking) relationships that evolved in what I believe was a natural way as she did as a character. There were so so many ways this movie could have gone wrong because of the socio-political environment in which it came to fruition; instead, we received a beautiful awe-inspiring piece of art. Perhaps it is my Greek blood speaking here, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a super-hero film delivered with such elegance. I’m not sure if it was the director, the script, Gadot herself or perhaps a combination…everything just worked…and for this new DC Universe, that’s really, almost impossibly impressive.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually enjoyed Suicide Squad and parts of Batman v Superman; it goes without saying, however, neither were enough to survive for long in this age of Super Hero cinema. For Suicide Squad, there just wasn’t enough even or original momentum, and B v S…well, that should’ve stayed a little longer on the editing table. Even Man of Steel, one exhausting fight sequence aside, isn’t praised or remembered like Marvel Studios and even some of the X-men films are. I think Wonder Woman is different. I think it will stand the test of time. Not just because she’s the first female with a solo film…but because there really is a film here. A fluid finished picture with an even pace, balanced tone and as much heart as there is action.

I thought opening the film with narration worked very well. It’s such an iffy tactic in any genre, and so far I’ve only really seen it in the X-men films. Sometimes it’s worked (X1, Days of Future Past) and sometimes, not quite as efficiently (X-men Apocalypse.) Overall though, they’ve done a decent example; some movies, like Disney’s more recent Cinderella film I felt relied far too heavily on narration, ‘telling’ where ‘showing’ would have done the job just fine. One could argue perhaps this was done intentionally, adhering to the ‘fairy tale’ technique; I disagree. I found it distracting. I thought Wonder Woman’s use enhanced the film. It presented us with tone of voice, foreboding the pending tone of the film as well as who she was to become. In contrast to the X-men films, which use the technique to warn of heartbreak and disaster, Diana’s voice contained a hint of pain grounded in an almost maternal knowledge, a teacher from antiquity’s time preparing a lesson for her student viewers. This was all done without stating too much or sounding cliché. My attention held and I looked forward to the next scene.

I’d also like to point out I thought the visual choices to accompany this audio worked as well. We see a glimpse of present-day Diana in BvS, and we know she’s lived a very long time (I still maintain that revelation should have remained a post-credits scene, and Wonder Woman herself, however cool she was, should not have appeared beyond the photograph.)   It almost adds to the excitement, at least in my case, knowing her origins would take us back not only to 20th century wartime, but to the ancient world as well. Not only because, again, I am Greek, but because I love the idea of heroes existing before the modern era, seeing how they affect an older world and their importance. World War I is something of an area of fascination for me, although I admit I’d thought at first they’d have set the film during the 1940s. I wonder if that was to separate from Captain America. I’m only familiar with her basic information and backstory; recent comic history and adjustments are beyond me.

I loved the architectural choices for Themyscira. Very clearly Greek-inspired but with an exotic flair all its own. I will say, as someone who has studied Greek art over the years, technically, the synonymous white should have historically been painted…but this is fiction, and as fiction, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited by how very in line with antiquity it was as it was. I’m not sure what I was expecting; Diana’s armor contains notable Greek accents…perhaps it’s simply how I’ve seen her and her Island portrayed before, drawing from Mythology by name and character without doing so historically. We all want to see our roots up there on the screen, and this was the first time in a long time I really felt like I was outside of a loose adaption or certain romantic comedies. As someone with a strong affinity for Super heroes, well, this means a lot to me. But moving on.

I’m also impressed by how well the Amazons blended the lines of beauty and ferocity (or is it sex-appeal and practicality?)  They were sexy, unmistakably, but to me it did not appear as though they were designed with that as the primary thought. They were sexy because they were fierce, beautiful because of the natural, historical sense in their design—or what I imagine as much history one can put into a mythological race. They weren’t super-model skinny or movie-star-glamorous, and yet these women carried about them a fearsome power I personally felt unworthy of. This of course extends to Diana and her iconic armor. None of her accessories felt corny or outdated to me, even the lasso, which I was a tad wary about. My association with it comes from dated comics and cartoons; I wasn’t sure it would translate seriously into this modern era. I think the director handled its inclusion perfectly, adding humor whenever as Pine’s character struggled to resist (or prove himself honest) and demonstrating its later use as a weapon against Ares. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’m so relieved Diana’s true purpose remained a secret until the end. I know some more learned fans than I have complains about the chosen direction, but I’ll get into that later. I’ve seen a lot of movies reveal far too much before needed and it really hurts the film. X-men Apocalypse, for example. However it pains me to talk down about my beloved X-men films, so many scenes talked through too much too early on, harming the pace and suspense of the film. If they had been removed I know for certain the movie would have done much better. Wonder Woman did none of this…which is actually very embarrassing for both Singer and Kinberg in comparison. In hindsight, it’s very, very impressive for both a lesser-known director and a character who hasn’t been given a fair (or successful, if we count that one pilot) solo screen-time venture since the 1970s.

To go along with her purpose, I loved that the Mythology/ancestry/storytime sequence resembled Renaissance art. I’m sure at this point it goes without saying but so many Greek Myths were illustrated and interpreted during the Renaissance period; in this particular case, I thought of Michaelangelo’s work on the Sistine Chapel, specifically the Creation of Adam and the Last Judgment. I know neither of them feature Greek mythology, but the style and articulation in the film really felt reminisce of Michelangelo. I like this artistic choice in direction; shooting a live action sequence would have felt grittier and clunky while none at all might have dragged and failed to grip the viewer’s attention in the same way. Plus, Diana is a child, and one from antiquity; choosing to illustrate the story like a story, as well as in a style reminisce of a time period that heavily featured antiquity as its subject fit perfectly.

Before I move ahead to the second half of Diana’s journey, I’d like to say I’m glad Hippolyta and her sister were close. They did not agree with everything, but there were no signs of dangerous tension (a la Thor and Loki, Charles and Raven, or taking it back to the 90s with Scar and Mufasa.) I’ve seen enough sibling drama in the movies; it was nice to see their conflict presented in a mature way that did not push their relationship past a breaking point. I loved that Antiope genuinely loved Diana and did not train her for personal or selfish gain. I will say her death didn’t resonate as deeply with me as it might have if she’d played a larger role in the movie but returning to Themyscira would have bogged down the pace. This is an origin film and if someone isn’t betrayed, they’ve got to lose a loved one; I wasn’t happy of course, but I guess if I had to pick I would rather Diana’s mentor go because a) it illustrates the importance of different bonds and b) I am tired of the whole ‘death of a parent kickstarts a hero on their journey.’ I know Antiope was Diana’s aunt but it wasn’t quite the same thing. I also like how this tragic ‘passing of the torch’ didn’t hang over Diana’s head the way it could have; she wasn’t a hardened, brooding heroine. Antiope died for love, and was in many ways the first step (unless you count the tale of Zeus protecting the Amazons) to her eventual drive to protect and fight for love. I know saying it like that sounds like a magical girl but I in no way think anything about this movie falls within that realm. There’s nothing pop culture or cliché in Diana’s character and I’ll get to that in a minute.

I thought Diana was the right amount of naïve, if that makes any sense. She wasn’t ditzy and the mistakes and little embarrassments she caused Steve and Etta were cute and quirky as opposed to cringe-worthy. I didn’t expect her to know of men, being the only Amazon born on Themyscira; I’m really glad she and the others weren’t treated like archaic idiots by the director or Chris Pine. I guess I was expecting something a little more similar to Thor’s treatment in his first film, which, while funny, earned him this ‘dopey puppy’ stereotype that’s really overshadowed any depth he’s gained in the MCU. I was also pleased to see Hippolyta was able to see Diana’s side of things, or rather, place her bond with her daughter over fear for her safety. I’ve seen so many films and TV shows where the rigid, overprotective parent becomes unlikeable.

On the flipside, I’m also glad her intellectual and physical abilities did not corrupt her view of man. She never once held herself in a pretentious, superior manner. This is something I’ve unfortunately seen in a lot of media of late…I adore this influx of female protagonists beyond the realm of…well, I guess Diana is a princess but she’s also a warrior and superhero. That said, it’s a personal turn-off when they’re treated above their male co-stars and see themselves as such. I want a good female protagonist as I said, but not if they’re going to act like they’re better than everyone else. There’s nothing, at least not to me, relatable or likeable in that. I’m not stupid; don’t pander to me like I am.

Diana, fortunately, breaks the mold yet again. There was only one moment I can recall that might be taken as intended superiority; when she was discussing her knowledge of men with Steve, how they were necessary for procreation but not so much for pleasure. While she seemed to know he probably wouldn’t like the consensus it came more from a courteous (if not somewhat humorous) place, rather than haughty superiority. That and much of what Diana said in that regard she likely took from not only her reading but her elders, growing up. Which in itself might be a form of naïveté but I’ll take it over a high-and-mighty attitude. I will say I found the ‘slave’ comment a bit out of place and (going out on a limb here) deliberately for the audience. It was like ‘and now we’re going to step away from ‘Diana-vision’ and insert ‘21st century activism. Please stand-by.’ I know why they threw it in, and I’m sure Diana said it with the same honesty she did everything else, but that one thing specifically didn’t work for me.

Another example superiority could have infiltrated her character: reading Doctor Poison’s stolen book. Diana seemed genuinely surprised no one else could read it, and given her origins, it wasn’t surprising. This evolved into a more amusing scene later on, using her language to elude the flirtatious Sammy. By then (kudos, character development) she’s gotten some idea not everyone has this skill, so it makes sense, as she grows more familiar in her surroundings, that she’d want to stop him in his tracks by literally making him eat his words. Yet again, there’s no malice or pretentiousness. Instead, a playful challenge ensues, with Diana emerging the victor. I admit, when Diana started speaking ancient Greek (provided that was, of course, ancient Greek) I squealed a little bit. It really is a personal thing but I just love how much this version of Wonder Woman and Themyscira embody their mythological/historical roots. Even though she wasn’t at the top of my superheroine list before (but damn, that’s definitely changing) I’ve always had an affinity for Wonder Woman because of her origins. She’s the beautiful, powerful and empathic Greek heroine I’d love to be, if only in essence.

But I digress.

I was a little worried about Chris Pine’s character, going into this. As noted above, I was afraid both Diana and the director would use this movie as an opportunity to belittle his importance, as well as the role of the ‘standard male protagonist.’ Thank Hera that wasn’t the case. Steve Trevor had his faults and humorous quirks but he was equally important and well-rounded. I admit, I take the first World War very seriously (well, all wars, but the First was such an unnecessary, heartbreaking mess I’m a little defensive in its regard.) So with that said, I was so, so impressed by him. He reminded me a lot of Steve Rogers, except of course, without the excessive stubbornness. He was stubborn, but it didn’t transcend into the comic book realm which is an odd thing to say, I know for a comic book movie. I guess I mean that I could have seen him star in a period piece without Amazons and Greek gods and still felt the same about his performance. He was a man, a man of the times, but a good, honest man who’d seen a lot and would do anything to stop even some of the senseless killing. He saw mankind for what it was, the good and bad—his speech about wanting one individual to blame really resonated. I think a lot of us in life believe we could blame the bad things on one particular individual…and I’m sure so many people during the Great War thought that as well. I’ve been trying to articulate just how Steve helped Diana become who she is; it’s so simple but complicated at the same time, so unlike any relationship I’ve seen in a superhero film. He didn’t transcend time to speak with an elder version of himself, didn’t banish her to Earth and shatter any familial bond…he just loved her. Believed in her. And in the end, sacrificed himself for both. I may not be one for the love interest sub-plot but my gosh, it played out so beautifully here.

When I first jotted down my initial thoughts about the movie, I kept drawing comparisons to Tarzan, only in reverse, with Time separating Diana from the rest of the world, as well as remote location. I can see now that was a very, very trimmed down comparison and almost…not insulting but simplified their characters and the bond they shared. Steve and Diana might be from different worlds, and Diana, as I said, was a little naïve, but Steve, too, underestimated her; they grew together as the film progressed, as equals. Only instead of Jane returning to the jungle with Tarzan, Diana remains in Steve’s world, fighting for the people he found so important, and who she believes are worth protecting, too.

I really liked the supporting cast as well. As I said, I’m a little sensitive about World War I and I think having such a diverse cast of characters really helped emphasize how encompassing it was, and how many different people suffered, because. Sammy was probably my favorite, but Charlie especially pulled at my heartstrings. I don’t know anything about these characters, if they exist outside the DC Expanded Universe or if they were specifically crafted for the film; correct me if I’m wrong but it seemed implied that Charlie’s character was once a soldier, perhaps earlier in the war, but trauma, like it did to so many at the time, shook his core. I’ve read and researched a lot about this war; it was the first ‘modern’ war with ‘modern’ weapons…and the first where Shell shock/PTSD really gained professional attention. I wish we’d learned more about Charlie, it isn’t often you see the staple ‘comic relief’ character backed by such tragedy. All of them, I’d have liked to spend more time with. For that reason I almost wish in some way the franchise in itself could stay in this time period. Alas, it’s not to be.

Oh, there is something else I’d like to point out, although I’m not sure where to fit it, exactly: the scene Diana reads from Doctor Poison’s journal illustrates, at least I think, the divide between the soldiers at the time and those from whom they took orders. Disregarding Ares for a second, I was really happy, although that’s not quite the right word, to see this included. So many people died precisely because those in higher power rarely set foot on the battle field. They remained in large part oblivious to trench conditions; to them, soldiers were expendable pawns in a political game.

Now then.

Diana’s run through No Man’s Land has to be my favorite scene. Not only is it the first time we really see ‘Wonder Woman’ in action but there’s so much power behind it because of the history I actually cried. I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened out there, a hundred year ago in the trenches, if a brave Amazonian warrior had stormed No Man’s Land and ceased the gunfire so expertly. It does pain me a little to say that; I don’t believe any soldier on either side should take the blame for what happened a hundred years ago. Nonetheless, the Germans were painted as the enemy for most of the film (until you consider Ares trying to stall their armistice from the opposing side) so in lieu of that, I did cry when the soldiers rallied behind Diana.

My personal feelings about this period aside, she looked amazing. And by amazing, I mean badass. Deflecting bullets, braving fire with her shield, the way she just maneuvered on the field…I know she’s named after Artemis but she reminded me strongly of Athena, at least, how I envision her. It was just so…cool, to see her out there, see how far her character has come in media. While I am not an activist, nor do I seek political refuge in my movies I couldn’t help but like, feel a sense of pride, watching this female super hero take charge, watching everyone follow her lead and depend on her. It was like…I was seeing everything I wanted in a heroine. With the exception of X-men’s Rogue, who has always been my favorite female hero (disregarding the movie interpretation.) Not only that, but in that moment I really felt like I finally connected to Wonder Woman herself. I know I’ve emphasized my heritage and her redesign before, so I won’t go into that. There’s more to it, personal things I’m not comfortable discussing…but this incarnation is a big deal to me for so, so many reasons. I can’t thank Gal Gadot and Patty Jenkins enough for bringing her to life.

Okay…let’s get back into this.

There is one little thing I wasn’t super thrilled with, but for this movie and in this context, it worked wonderfully. I’ve said my piece about the love interest and why I don’t mind Steve and Diana falling in love, I just…have issues with implied sex scenes. And it isn’t a political thing or a religious thing, it’s more...at least I think it’s along the lines of things I’d, at least for now, prefer not to discuss. So I’ll say in general I don’t care for it but it does work and I can’t fault the film because I know it worked. Just a personal thing.

I’m going to talk about Ares now.

I did not see that revelation coming. Maybe I should have, but I expected something along the lines of ‘Ares has been watching silently the entire time and suddenly booming laughter erupts and the ground parts and glows like lava; suddenly the god of war appears, sinister approval hanging from his lips.’

I much prefer how things actually played out. I’ve seen and read a lot of media featuring the Greek Gods and not once was Ares ever portrayed as a ‘posh British man.’ I think there’s a lot of symbolism in that; both in regards to the war itself and, if you want to go there, perhaps in this modern era itself. I’m going to talk about this in context of WWI because again, I want no part of modern political activism. In the war, as I said, the Elites controlled the strings. They gave orders their army had little choice but to carry out and rarely did they involve themselves directly. Some of them, upon realizing what was actually going on, were struck with horror. Others didn’t understand or care. Ares falls under the latter. I mentioned it before but the history fan in me would have liked to see more of this interpretation of the war itself, the people—civilians, soldiers and even the elites—and seen the struggle inflicted by Ares’ influence, how the armistice stalled and all. The super hero fan in me is more than okay with how the film played out. This is Diana’s movie, after all.

It was a teeny bit difficult to see this prim and proper man in full battle gear, only because, apart from maybe Ian McKellen’s Magneto (and even then, it’s not the same) I’ve never seen a live-action comic book villain portrayed that way. It’s jarring, but fascinating, too. It also fits into the overall elegance of the film. I wouldn’t expect someone like Loki or Apocalypse to show up in Wonder Woman’s world. Not to say she couldn’t handle them, because let’s be honest, that would be one badass fight. It’s more like…I don’t know. Historical context. Perhaps their ancient, otherworldly blood. Anything else would have hampered the tone and created a clunky feeling. Besides, we got to see his indirect brutality in the form of Doctor Poison’s gas. This Ares, until the end it seemed, was the puppeteer who kept his hands behind his back, free of blood. I loved it. Alternative interpretations rock the boat and keep things fresh. Even the final battle felt different, as odd as it was to see this Englishmen throwing punches in his blocky armor. Their representation also served to illustrate that ‘ancient elder figure’ trying to teach or tame the ‘reckless younger.’ That I have seen a lot in this genre, saw it recently in Guardians of the Galaxy 2. Diana, however, is such a different character from Peter Quill, and Ares, while on similar lines to his father whose name escapes me right now, is his own kind of destructive, with his own brand of motive that, like his half-sister, distinguish him from Marvel’s Celestial Kurt Russell.

There are two small qualms I have with the climax. The first is Ares’ revelation: Diana is the god-killer, not the sword. I don’t know why, but the impact failed to stick the way I wanted it to. Maybe because I’m unfamiliar with her New 52 origins, and I actually expected her to be Ares’ daughter (fun Mythological fact, the Amazons were actually Ares’ children, but I know that’s not the case in DC.) I thought perhaps Hippolyta kept the truth from her because she knew if Ares discovered he had a child he would try to corrupt her. Which I guess played out in some form anyway, even if she wound up being Zeus’ daughter instead. I’m okay with that; as I said before, Diana reminds me of Athena, also a child of Zeus, and came to be through unconventional means. I guess it’s just strange to me, to see so compassionate a character without the same tragedy circling Bruce and Clark…then again, I do primarily watch Marvel (and X-men) films and they practically wrote the book on character heartache. I mean, discovering the horrors of the mortal world and losing Steve are tragic, I guess I just expected something more? Perhaps more emphasis on the god-killer itself, or for greater impact when Diana found out. Did she know Zeus was her father? Or did she take her mother’s story in a more figurative sense? I know (the nurse?) was surprised to see her injuries so quickly healed, so I’m going to guess Diana herself wasn’t aware. That may be why I didn’t feel the same punch I was supposed to; I got a bit confused. Either way, I love Diana the way she is; we don’t need another jaded DC hero.

Before I forget, I want to give a shout-out to the human villains, too. Perhaps it was the era or the tone of the film but I personally felt that Doctor Poison and Ludendorff belonged in a German Expressionist film from the 1920s and 1930s—in a good way. I’ve seen a lot of old ‘mad science experiments gone awry’ films, some American, some British and some, of course, German. Doctor Poison especially, with her mask, and characterization felt very reminisce of Doctor Mabusa or Caligari. Again, it could have been the setting of the film, but I don’t know…their motives mixed with the overall elegance of the film felt very close to that old school horror I so love. I really wanted to know more about Poison’s mask, what happened to her face (although I’m assuming we’re to imply her work damaged her, physically, at some point.) Ludendorff was more the standard villain, something you might find out of SHIELD, but that they worked together, that he sort of…not spoke for her, but seemed to run the operation coincided with that same horror; two sides of the brain; the mad and the meticulous. Together, a fluid recipe for chaos.

I thought the final fight was awesome. Diana goes all out and we really get to see just how this twenty-first century Wonder Woman stands apart from her previous interpretations (movie and TV specifically.) As I stated earlier, I used to think Diana’s accessories and costume were, admittedly, a little cheesy and gimmicky. I don’t have the same nostalgic fondness for Diana that a lot of people do, I’m sure. I was too young to watch the live-action series and as I also said I never really connected with her animated version. This film for me rewrote my previous opinions. Her bracelets, and especially her lasso are awesome and the perfect aid for her. Of course BvS helped, but she was hardly in that movie and shoe-horned additions aren’t the same as a solo journey. On Ares’ end, there was also an appropriate amount of lightning. BvS completely overdid the lightning, to such a point it gave me a headache. Here, such effects felt appropriate for each character. With one tiny little exception: Diana’s grief.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved the direction they took Steve’s final moments, and his death hit so many poignant marks. Even though I kind of expected him to die, because he was so prevalent throughout the film part of me almost thought he might survive at the last moment, spared by Zeus or something. I’m glad he didn’t. A hundred years have passed, and I just don’t see her living with Steve until he died of old age.  I do, however, feel like I missed something when it came to Diana’s grief. It felt almost too sudden, too explosive and while it didn’t go over my head, it was like preparing for an undertow that failed to carry me all the way under. I’d like to see this movie again, see if I can figure out why that failed to strike. The DCEU is known for their flimsy editing choices; to find it in an otherwise well-done film is surprising. So perhaps it isn’t a creative choice, but something I personally missed. I’ll have to go back and watch it.

The only other gripe I have, and it is a small one, is the CGI. At least 95% of it translated successfully, from the lighting to the slow-motion (which isn’t really CGI but an effect nonetheless.) Kudos to the slow-motion, by the way. While used more than it probably ought to be, Diana looked so damn cool I don’t care. I was, however, bothered a bit by how evident the computer generated effects came into play whenever she was thrown or jumped into the air. It’s a small thing, but bothered me no less. I love watching these super beings call upon their powers. It’s something I’ve always wished I could do, so the noticeable imagery took me out of the moment. To go along with that, the last shot of the film lingered for far too long. I’m not sure what alternative might have fixed it, I just know it lingered because it felt long, and when some portion of a film feels long to the audience it’s generally a sign something’s got to be reworked or cut. Maybe fading to black and then having Diana’s voice linger instead…I’m not sure.

There is one last thing I’d like to talk about: Diana’s declaration she believed in love. I didn’t intend to leave it until the end, things just sort of unfolded that way. It is important though, so perhaps discussing it now is a good note to end on. I have seen so, so many movies, read so many books and watched enough TV I know how overused that concept is for a character’s turning point. Whether it be someone like Chris Eccleston’s Doctor, who may not believe in love necessarily but learned how to embraced it enough to die for it, or Kiara’s understanding of ‘we are one,’ or even the overall presiding theme of classic films like the Princess Bride. It’s everywhere, it’s been everywhere for a long, long time. So how this movie managed to use it, say it point blank, and avoid the expectant groan is beyond me. It’s so fitting, right? Female heroine falls in love and becomes a stronger individual for it. I hate that concept (I’m sorry, I do) but it works so well here. So well in fact that a small part of me cheered and a part of my heart hurt. It’s been nearly a week and I’m still baffled by my reaction. Maybe it’s this new connection I have with Diana, or something about her character and the little details in her journey that stand her apart from other heroes. Maybe I’ve become so embittered by my own life that finding someone like her (someone, again, I’ve learned to connect with) understanding at last these flawed humans through her lost love and his sacrifice instead of seeing this world strictly as good vs bad…or perhaps it is the world I live in now. A world so stirred by blind, rigid hatred with no room for that deeper understanding. Whatever it is, again I say, kudos to Patty Jenkins and kudos to Gal Gadot. You’ve successfully recruited me aboard the Wonder Woman fanboat. Never in a million years did I see that coming.

I’m sorry everyone, I didn’t expect this to be so long: this movie just hit so many buttons for me, both nerdy and emotional…which I guess sums up Wonder Woman’s overall appeal. She’s ancient and brazen, feminine and empathic: she’s a woman in every sense of the word and that is her greatest strength.

[oliviawriting12]

Letters, term 2

NOTES: Letters are between an Australian nurse and her boyfriend. The nurse is stationed in Greece during WWII. All stories are closely  based on real events. All spelling and grammar errors are intentional. Dotted lines stands for a spot blacked out by censors.

Dear Kit,

Many “thank you”s for the candy. All the gals here loved it especially the chocolates. Was a big morale-booster, too, for reasons I will explain. Before I forget could you please send some stockings as my wool ones are quite worn through. We are on our feet 12 hours a day here and they go very fast. I have put extra bandage around my heels to prevent blisters in the mean-time, and some of the other girls do it too- the 2/5th AGH makes do!  

We are currently in ------------, having been moved just a few days ago- and do I have a story to tell you. You might not believe it.  We were evacuated just recently out to ----, and were taken by car and truck to Nafplio. We weren’t told until a few hours before, Matron Best having selected 40 to go and 39 to stay. We all said our goodbyes. I had to leave darling Mer behind which was very heart-rending, altho we promised to write. We all left in the very dead of night with our little satchels and tin hats, and respirators in case of gas. On the horizon we could see the fires from the battle and I only then realised how close it had got. I was so glad to have Constance with me as I don’t think she’s ever felt fear in her life. For two hours we all stayed put in a cemetery as there was an air raid going on. We all huddled down and held hands v. tight.  It was complete blackness, made even worse by the big respirator masks which you cant see out of even during the day. I could hear the rattle of the planes overhead and the explosions but thankfully the Germans saw no use in bombing a cemetery. Still it was very harrowwing.

After another hour we  arrived to find that our transports were on fire from the raid and being deserted by the Navy men. The fires were so bright you could read a book by them. I don’t think I will ever forget the look of those bright orange flames against the black water and all the smoke coming in thick onto the harbour so you could hardly see. There were some men floating facedown in the water but it looked like most of them had gotten out O.K. They had other boats out spraying them with retardent but it wasn’t doing much yet. I dont know how long we spent on the harbour, but nobody knew what to do. It was chaos with everyone running around in the smoke trying to dredge men out of the water. We were all very scared our transport would leave. Eventually somebody found some fishing boats and Greek fishermen who would take us and we all crowded on like sardines. We went very slowly through the fires.

When we got to the destroyer it was more chaos because nobody had thought to bring the walkways the Navy boats had to get us on. We had to jump across the gap to the destroyer in our narrow skirts and tin hats, one at a time. It was like the games we used to play in the garden, jumping from the tree to the balcony, except this was in the Agean Sea with fires burning all around you and an old man barking at us to hurry up because he was worrying about the Germans coming back. Constance was the first to go of course, and she nearly didn’t make it, only avoiding the chill water because two of the Navy men caught her by the arms and hauled her up. This spooked the rest of us good but we didnt have any other near-accidents. I got across okay- all my gymnastics training doing me good, although I don’t think I’ve ever felt my knees knock more in my life. We did have one accident where Julia’s satchel was dropped in the water when we tossed it up after her. It hit the side of the boat and sunk like a stone. She must have felt badly loosing all her things but she didnt say a word.

Once we got in the boat we were all so tired from our night we were asleep on our feet. Altho the boat was rocking v. badly and cold, we all slept very well with the blankets the soldiers gave us. It was afternoon when we arrived in Crete and we all felt better for a night’s rest and some mugs of soup which was good because we were at work right away setting up the hospital tent.

Quite the harrowing event but throughout it all we did fairly well keeping calm and soldiering on, even me, which you may find hard to believe! But when you are with 39 other even-tempered women it is not so hard as you might think.

Work has been hard but no threat of air-raids like before, which is a relief. There are 50 men now and 40 nurses plus doctors etc, which you might think would work out but never seems to be enough.  Where I was emptying bedpans and mopping before now I am applying bandages and stitching, as there are less experienced nurses here. I am such a quick stitch now, which is good as we also find we are short on anasthetics often. When I first started in 1940 it was so hard seeing the young men with their burnt eyes and limbs because I would always see your face on them but now it is just like any other day. Of course one does feel but you go on so much easier. I know you wouId prefer having your leg and fighting to not & being at home but it makes me happy you are safe. I always worried you would come in wrapped in bandages even tho you were training on the airfields and I was in Greece.

Much love to you, Kit. I think of you every day & you dont need to worry about me finding a beau among my patients as they all move on too fast. As soon as this war is done I will come home to you and we can go to the movies and fool around like we used to. I hope you are getting used to the crutches.

Also since you asked I dont know anything about troop movements and besides they screen all my letters- the 2/5th goes where they move us, no use telling us plans and us going and blabbing by accident, which I could just see happening to me. So I don’t know & don’t mind. Greece is very sunny and warm but as I haven’t had a day off in 2 weeks I haven’t been swimming.

Am dead tired after a long day so goodnight.

For you x x x x x x x x  o o o o o o o o o x x x x x x x x x I love love love you Kit Gwendolyn

PS Dont forget stockings!

Dear Gwen

I hope you like the stockings. They’re made of fine wool so they should not be too scratchy. I sent some candy too, although they were sold out of liquors at Corris’s, so I got lollies and chocs. Your letter has been passed around to all my relatives as they were all astounded at your story and you will likely be asked to retell it many times when you return. Also enclosed is a drawing from Charlie of Gwen jumping onto the boat. He asked me to read the letter may times, which I did.

The crutches are going as well as expected. I’m still very clumsy and Aunt Mary makes me practice hopping around in the garden as I knock her lamps and things when I’m indoors.

Sometimes I forget it’s gone and then I remember. Just this morning I woke up and swung out of bed and nearly fell, forgetting my left leg is gone at mid-thigh and wasn’t there to catch me. And sometimes if I sit still I swear I can feel my foot. I notice it the most when I’m going out in town because people stare. I guess all your hard work with the soldiers will get you used to amputees so you won’t mind. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt when people are frightened, although a lot of people are very respectful. Just yesterday when I was going out with Mary for groceries a man shook my hand. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had never seen any action. I feel a real fool about it, spending two weeks in training trudging in the mud and then going home right away after an aeroplane accident, without being any use. All the fellas are off fighting and here I am. Well, everyone except Jim, who can’t go on account of his diabetes. He told me one time he wishes he was missing a leg so people wouldn’t hiss at him on the street thinking he’s a coward. That made me pretty mad & we haven’t talked in a little while. So it’s just me and Aunt Mary and Charlie mostly.

I wish I could work but I’m still in the recovery period so I’ve been watching Charlie at home while Aunt Mary works. She’s got a new job making bullet cartridges and will bring defected ones home for Charlie to play with, which he loves. Money is tight as she’s got me to look after and it will be some time before I can get a job, but we don’t need to worry about toys for Charlie because he’s got his cartridges. He stands them up in big rows and knocks them down. I never knew how much energy a little boy could have till I started spending time at home. Usually in the morning I’ll read and he’ll run around and amuse himself, and in the afternoon I’ll take him over to a friend’s or we’ll go into town. I still get tired fast so we can’t do as much as either of us would like. On Tuesday we played Chinese Checkers and he beat me. He’s a smart kid. On Wednesday we didn’t play any games because we were too occupied with your letter.

I know you don’t like it when I pester but I worry about you all the time. I hope you still have the photo I sent you & I hope you won’t forget me. I know it isn’t patriotic but I wish you could come home. I’m glad you’re further from the front lines these days, as the thought of you working with shells whistling over your head makes me go out of my mind. It’s funny that I hope you won’t have any more emergencies like the one you told me, but at the same time it was so exciting to read. I hope you’re doing O.K., you sound so tough. I love you and I can’t wait to see you again.

All my love, Kit Love from Charlie and Aunt Mary too

Dear Kit

Thank you and bless you for the stockings they are lovely! Am no longer traipsing around in little bits of bandage. And the candy was lovely, I gave a little to all the girls. Tell Charlie I have the drawing up by my bunk and look at it when I go to sleep.

Thankfully there has not been any more “exciting” emergencies. We have been here two months now and it is going fine. I got a day off last week and went into -------- with Constance on bycycles. We dont know a word of Greek and had to talk through hand gestures when we went to get some lunch. As a result I got some funny cheese dish I didnt want but it was just fine in the end. It has been sunny for weeks now and hardly any rain so it is getting dusty and all the army trucks send up big clouds. It is a job keeping the dust out of the hospital tents. The 39 others we left behind have arrived and so I am reunited with Mer! Although now many more patients are coming in and we are too swamped to chat. The battles in Greece seem to be getting bad and I dont know how long it will be till we are moved again. I can’t see the shells like I could in Greece but if the men cant hold their positions we’ll go with them. Word has it it might be to ----------- next. Will see! It sounds like a good time, we could see all the ---------------------- --------- ------------------------------ --------------------------- -----------.  

Another thing- for the past week I’ve been changing the dressings of a soldier from Yamba.. I told him I was from MacLean myself. Isn’t that interesting. We get on well although he isn’t a match for you, Kit dear. I come and talk to him at nights because I haven’t been sleeping well.  He’s called Herb and he told me about the what it’s like fighting in the towns and I told him my own story, with the boats which suprised him a lot that a nurse had come so close to combat. He was the wireless operator on a tank and he was in for gunshot wounds, one in his stomach which is pretty hard to get over, and the other in his leg. He said the Germans fight dirty so now everyone does too. He got shot when they were getting out of the tanks at night to get supplies, some Germans hid and fired on them when they got out. He says the Germans don’t surender anymore when you capture them because everybody just shoots each other now, and even goes at the Red Cross trucks. The Germans started shooting prisoners and they got so mad they started doing it back. He can’t wait to get back to action because he spent so long in training to work on a tank and he doesn’t want to waste away on the hospital bed. His good friend Will who was the gunner was killed by the Germans the same night and he wants to get back in the tank for him. He didn’t die right away but bled out on the ground before the medics got there. He spends ages tapping Morse codes to himself to make sure he doesn’t forget.

I don’t know if its fair to kill prisoners but if the Germans started it first I guess I understand. I remember when I started I was so suprised just to see a man who had been shot in the back but I got over that pretty quick. I guess when you’re all out to kill each other there aren’t any rules. Maybe don’t read Charlie this part.

I hope you can get to work again soon, although I’m sure Mary and Charlie will miss you at home. Dont feel so bad about not seeing any action as lots of fellas get hurt in training and its nothing to be ashamed of. Soon you can get an office job and keep helping the war effort. You have such nice printing and you did so well in school I’m sure you can get a real nice job. I’m the one with the bad speling, which is why I’m the nurse!

Thinking of you and saying a prayer every night for your poor stump! Love you love you write me Gwendolyn