Like most boys, when I was growing up, I played war games with the kids in my neighborhood.
The other kids all seemed to know more about war than I did. I guess they saw more war movies.
Actually, I've never been a fan of war movies although I do make some exceptions.
I make exceptions, for example, for some movies that are historical re–creations, like "Gettysburg" or "Tora! Tora! Tora!" I make exceptions for some movies that tell a real person's story with war as the backdrop, like "Sergeant York." And I make exceptions for some movies that tell stories about real events but the characters are fictional, like "Gone With the Wind" or "The Best Years of Our Lives."
In fact, I'd have to say that 1946's "The Best Years of Our Lives" is one of my favorite war movies — and it never shows a single battle scene in nearly three hours. It did explore the difficulties World War II veterans faced in readjusting to civilian life.
It was ahead of its time, really. Its language wasn't as salty as more modern films. When compared to films by modern filmmakers, director William Wyler could be said to have pulled some punches. But it addressed the issue of disabled veterans before "Coming Home" or "Born on the Fourth of July," and it dealt with war–inflicted psychological trauma before "The Deer Hunter."
It was truly a break from the norm.
There are moments in the movie that illustrate ugly truths about war that can't be portrayed on the battlefield and can't be glossed over by charismatic actors or patriotic music.
Like how war can interfere in personal lives.
"What do you think of the children?" the wife of the banker, Al, asks her husband upon his return.
"Children?" Al asks. "I don't recognize 'em. They've grown so old."
"I tried to stop them, to keep them just as they were when you left," she says, "but they got away from me."
Earlier, we get some insight into Al's anxiety about coming home when the cab that took him and two fellow veterans to their homes pulls up in front of his building.
"How long since you been home?" one of his companions asks.
"Oh, a couple–a centuries," he replies.
From time to time, the audience sees indications that Al has a problem with alcohol that may have developed while he was overseas. It is never really addressed in the movie, although one suspects it presents a problem that Al will have to deal with.
As difficult as things are for Al, the adjustment is tougher for Homer, the former high school football star who lost his hands in combat.
After an awkward evening with his family, he slips out to his Uncle Butch's saloon, where Butch advises him, while the two play piano together, "Give 'em time, kid; they'll catch on. You know your folks'll get used to you, and you'll get used to them. Then everything'll settle down nicely. Unless we have another war. Then none of us have to worry because we'll all be blown to bits the first day. So cheer up, huh?"
But Butch can't completely ease Homer's emotional conflict. It leads him to erroneously conclude that his girlfriend won't want to go through with the marriage they had planned before the war intruded.
Finally, he gives her an unflinching glimpse at the kind of life she faces if they get married. He goes through the process of removing his hooks in his preparation for bed.
"This is when I know I'm helpless," he says. "My hands are down there on the bed. I can't put them on again without calling to somebody for help. I can't smoke a cigarette or read a book. If that door should blow shut, I can't open it and get out of this room. I'm as dependent as a baby that doesn't know how to get anything except to cry for it. Well, now you know, Wilma. Now you have an idea of what it is. I guess you don't know what to say. It's all right. Go on home. Go away like your family said."
But Wilma surprises him. "I know what to say, Homer," she says, kneeling in front of him. "I love you and I'm never going to leave you ... never." She tucks him into bed and kisses him, then leaves the room.
The camera lingers on Homer's face, partially illuminated by the moonlight. And the audience sees a single tear roll down his face. No words are necessary to express the relief he is feeling.
The third veteran, Fred, faces many obstacles when he returns, not the least of which is his attempt to pick up the threads of his marriage. He continues to suffer from nightmares about battle and also finds it hard to find work when much of his experience was in the nose of combat aircraft.
But the marriage falls apart, and Fred decides to leave town. He has no destination in mind. When trying to get on a plane, he is told that there are two planes leaving town that day, "one eastbound, one westbound."
"Which way you going?" Fred is asked.
"Which one leaves first?" he responds.
Perhaps fittingly, the movie ends with Homer and Wilma's wedding. It is a new beginning for them — and, perhaps, for Al as well. We get the impression that Al and his wife have discussed his drinking, and Al has agreed to cut back.
It is also a new beginning for Fred and Al's daughter, Peggy, who appear to be headed for their own wedding as the movie ends.
It's a remarkable film.
And you can see it tonight on Turner Classic Movies at 9 p.m. (Central). It's part of TCM's "31 Days of Oscar."
The cast was first rate — Fredric March, Myrna Loy, Teresa Wright, Dana Andrews, Virginia Mayo, Hoagy Carmichael. And it had a very special young man, Harold Russell, who was cast in the role of Homer. He was not a professional actor, but he was perfect for the role.
In reality, Russell lost his hands in a grenade explosion. He won Best Supporting Actor — and he also received a special Oscar for being an inspiration to veterans.
It remains the only time anyone has received two Oscars for the same performance.
Other films glorified war. "The Best Years of Our Lives" told the gritty tale of adjusting to a postwar reality — and won seven Oscars in the process.
If you have never seen it, it is worth the investment of your time.
