Born on the Fourth of July

“I know that I am going to make it now. I am going to make it not because of any god, or any religion, but because I want to make it, I want to live. And I leave the screaming man without legs and am brought to a room that is very bright.” 

Kovic’s will to live powers him through even the darkest moments. Even immediately after being shot, he recognizes that he is surviving not because of a higher power but simply because of his own will. This is important as he wrestles with his Catholic faith throughout the book. The “room that is very bright” is the hospital in Vietnam, but the language is reminiscent of that of the faithful who either have seen the light in reference to finding God or enter the light of Heaven upon dying. Kovic seems to suggest both here, as he is entering a new life in which he will see the realities of the government’s treatment of veterans and also having part of his body die.

“The general is dressed in an immaculate uniform with shiny shoes. ‘Good afternoon, marine,’ the general says. ‘In the name of the President of the United States and the United States Marine Corps, I am proud to present you with the Purple Heart, and a picture,’ the general says. Just then the skinny man with the Polaroid camera jumps up, flashing a picture of the wounded man. ‘And a picture to send to your folks.’ He comes up to my bed and says exactly the same thing he has said to all the rest.” 

When Kovic receives his Purple Heart, his ceremony is not one of glory or even personalization. Instead, the general who visits him recites the same script for each person in the hospital ward. Kovic never feels like a hero in the book, even though he admits that he wanted to be a hero when he enlisted. The United States Marine Corps gives him a medal, but Kovic recognizes that it isn’t a great honor. Later in the book, he calls the actions of a group of veterans who threw away their medals “one of the most moving antiwar demonstrations there had been” (158), since the medal he received was devoid of meaning and even ceremony.