我是美軍士兵，我這樣學(xué)會殺人

How We Learned to Kill

我是美軍士兵，我這樣學(xué)會殺人

THE voice on the other end of the radio said: “There are two people digging by the side of the road. Can we shoot them?”

無線電另一端的聲音響起：“有兩個人在路邊挖土。我們可以向他們開槍嗎?”

It was the middle of the night during my first week in Afghanistan in 2010, on the northern edge of American operations in Helmand Province, and they were directing the question to me. Were the men in their sights irrigating their farmland or planting a roadside bomb? The Marines reported seeing them digging and what appeared to be packages in their possession. Farmers in the valley work from sunrise to sundown, and seeing anyone out after dark was largely unheard-of.

這是2010年的一天半夜，我到阿富汗還不到一周，位置是在赫爾曼德省美軍活動區(qū)域的北部邊緣，而他們把這個問題提給了我。他們看到的這兩個男人是在灌溉農(nóng)田呢，還是在路邊埋炸彈?來自海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)的士兵報告說看到他們在挖土，似乎帶著包裹。這里的農(nóng)民日出而作，日落而息，幾乎沒聽說過天黑后還看到有人外出。

My initial reaction was to ask the question to someone higher up the chain of command. I looked around our combat operations center for someone more senior and all I saw were young Marines looking back at me to see what I would do.

我的最初反應(yīng)是詢問上級指揮官。于是我環(huán)顧作戰(zhàn)中心的四周，尋找級別更高的軍官，結(jié)果看到的都是年輕的海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)士兵。他們回視我，看我將如何決定。

I wanted confirmation from a higher authority to do the abhorrent, something I’d spent my entire life believing was evil. With no higher power around, I realized it was my role as an officer to provide that validation to the Marine on the other end who would pull the trigger.

我想從上級那里獲得批準(zhǔn)，做一件我向來視為邪惡的事情。由于沒有其他上級在場，我意識到，批準(zhǔn)無線電另一端的海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)員扣動扳機(jī)，是我作為一名軍官的職責(zé)。

“Take the shot,” I responded. It was dialogue from the movies that I’d grown up with, but I spoke the words without irony. I summarily ordered the killing of two men. I wanted the Marine on the other end to give me a reason to change my decision, but the only sound I heard was the radio affirmative for an understood order: “Roger, out.” Shots rang out across the narrow river. A part of me wanted the rounds to miss their target, but they struck flesh and the men fell dead.

“動手，”我回答。這是我自小看的那些電影中的對白，但我的口氣里并沒有諷刺。我干脆利落地下令干掉這兩名男子。雖然希望另一端的隊(duì)員給我一個理由，讓我改變決定，但無線電傳來的唯一回答是“收到”，表示他們理解這個命令。槍聲大作，飛向小河的另一邊。我有些希望他們射偏了。但他們命中了目標(biāo)，那兩名男子倒地身亡。

When I originally became an infantry officer, increasing my Marines’ ability to kill was my mission, and it was my primary focus as I led them to Iraq and Afghanistan. Now, as a young lieutenant, I had faith in my Marines; I trusted them and looked up to them. But in the back of my mind, I always wondered whether they would follow my orders in the moment of truth. As the echoes of gunfire reverberated and faded, I received my answer. Yes, they would follow me. I also received affirmation to a more sinister question: Yes, I could kill.

我最初當(dāng)上步兵軍官時，提升隊(duì)員的殺人能力就是我的使命;當(dāng)我?guī)ьI(lǐng)他們奔赴伊拉克和阿富汗時，這就是我的主要側(cè)重點(diǎn)?，F(xiàn)在，作為一名年輕的中尉，我對手下的海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)員們很有信心;我信任他們，尊重他們。但在內(nèi)心深處，我一直不確定他們在關(guān)鍵時刻是否會服從我的命令。隨著槍聲的回蕩和消退，我知道了這個問題的答案。是的，他們會服從我的命令。對于一個更加邪惡的問題，我也得到了答案：是的，我可以殺人。

II.

二

The primary factors that affect an individual’s ability to kill are the demands of authority, group absolution, the predisposition of the killer, the distance from the victim and the target attractiveness of the victim.

“影響一個人殺戮能力的主要因素是權(quán)威的命令、集體脫罪意識、殺人者的性情、與被殺者之間的距離，以及目標(biāo)是否引人注意。”

So began the essay I wrote during my Marine Corps infantry officer training in 2008. The assignment said, “Discuss the factors that affect an individual’s ability to kill.” I focused on lessons I had learned reading Lt. Col. Dave Grossman’s book “On Killing,” which deconstructs the psychology of taking human life. It explains how, throughout the past century, military social systems and training evolved to make humans less reluctant to take a life. But while Mr. Grossman’s work was descriptive, my training was prescriptive.

這是我2008接受海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)步兵軍官培訓(xùn)時，寫的一篇作業(yè)的開頭。作業(yè)要求“討論影響一個人殺戮能力的因素”。我閱讀過戴維·格羅斯曼中校 (Dave Grossman)的作品《殺戮》(On Killing)，于是在文中重點(diǎn)闡述了從該書中學(xué)到的東西。這本書解構(gòu)了殺戮的心理元素，解釋了在過去一個世紀(jì)里，軍隊(duì)社會結(jié)構(gòu)和軍事訓(xùn)練的發(fā)展，如何降低了人類對殺戮的抵觸。不過，雖然格羅斯曼的作品娓娓道來，我接受的訓(xùn)練卻具體到各種條條框框。

Before I was given the authority to order a kill, I trained to do it by hand. I practiced the techniques of killing for more than a year before taking command of a platoon. I became the master of my rifle, thrust my bayonet through human-shaped dummies, and only then learned the more advanced methods of modern warfare: how to maneuver a platoon of 40 Marines and call for artillery barrages and aerial bombardments. But mastering the tactics of killing would have been useless if I wasn’t willing to kill.

在被賦予下令殺戮的權(quán)力之前，我受過親手殺人的訓(xùn)練。在成為一個排的指揮官之前，我練習(xí)了一年多的殺人技術(shù)。我的步槍技能變得很嫻熟，還用刺刀捅過人形靶子，然后才學(xué)習(xí)了現(xiàn)代戰(zhàn)爭的先進(jìn)手段：如何指揮一排40個海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)員行動，并請求炮擊和空中轟炸支援。但如果我不愿意殺人，掌握再多的殺人手法也毫無用處。

In war, of course, there are many ways to kill. I did so by giving orders. I never fired my weapon in combat, but I ordered countless others to fire theirs. It was a disorienting sort of power to have: I would speak a few words, and a few seconds, minutes or hours later people would die. Of course, our snipers became the celebrities of our deployment because they were the best killers. They would perch in their hide, watching the villagers through high-powered optics that allowed them to see faces from hundreds of yards away. They would watch and wait until the moment when they could identify an enemy among the civilians. The fighters would fall before the echo of the shot reached their dead bodies. They would truly never know what hit them.

當(dāng)然，在戰(zhàn)爭中，致人斃命的方法有很多。我通過發(fā)號施令來殺人。我從來沒有在戰(zhàn)斗中親自開火，但是我無數(shù)次下令讓別人開火。這是一種會讓人喪失神志的權(quán)力：我只要說幾個詞，然后幾秒鐘、幾分鐘或幾小時后，就會有人喪命。當(dāng)然，狙擊手是我們這里的名人，因?yàn)樗麄兪亲詈玫臍⑹帧２厣碓陔[蔽點(diǎn)，借助高性能的光學(xué)設(shè)備，他們可以從幾百碼外分辨出村民的面目，經(jīng)過長時間的觀察和等待，直到找出混在平民中的敵人。然后這些激進(jìn)分子分子會中彈倒下，槍聲傳到跟前時他們已經(jīng)身亡，永遠(yuǎn)都不會有機(jī)會知道擊中自己的究竟是什么。

Before killing the first time there’s a reluctance that tempers the desire to know whether you are capable of doing it. It is not unlike teenagers longing to lose their virginity but also wanting to wait for the right time to do it. But once killing loses its mystique, it no longer becomes a tool of last resort.

第一次殺人之前，雖然你渴望知道自己是否真的能夠做到這種事，但仍會感到猶豫不決。和少男少女向往失去童貞、但又想等待合適的時機(jī)比起來，這并沒有什么不同。但殺戮一旦失去了神秘性，它就再也不是一種不得已而為之的手段了。

In Marine officer training we were taught to be decisive. Even a bad decision, I was told, is better than no decision at all. But the combination of imperfect judgment, the confidence of authority and absolute decisiveness does not produce measured outcomes.

海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)軍官的訓(xùn)練課程教導(dǎo)我們，行事要果斷。他人告訴我，即使做出一個錯誤的決定，也總比沒有決定要好?？墒?，有缺陷的判斷、對上級的信心和絕對的果斷加在一起，并不會產(chǎn)生可靠的結(jié)果。

For a while after I ordered the Marine to take that first shot, everything we did seemed acceptable. It revealed that killing could be banal. Each day would bring a new threat that needed to be eliminated. Bombs would drop, Marines would fire and artillery would blanket hills with explosions. I had a rough estimate of how many people we killed, but I stopped counting after a while.

我第一次下令士兵動手后，有那么一段時間，我們做的一切事情貌似都是可以接受的。這說明殺戮可以成為稀松平常的事情。每一天都會冒出新的威脅需要解除。炸彈將被投下，士兵將會開火，山丘將被炮火覆蓋。我曾經(jīng)大致估計過我們殺死的人數(shù)，但過了一段時間之后，我就放棄了。

III.

三

I spent every day of my seven-month deployment in Afghanistan trying to figure out how to kill the Taliban commander in my area. He lived and operated to our north and every day would send his soldiers down to plant bombs, terrorize the villages and wrestle with us for control of the area. Our mission was to secure the villages and provide economic and political development, but that was slow work with intangible results. Killing the Taliban commander would be an objective measure of success.

我被派遣到阿富汗的7個月里，每一天都在想方設(shè)法干掉我駐扎的這個地區(qū)的塔利班指揮官。他居住和活動位置在我們北面，每天都會派手下到南邊來埋炸彈，恐嚇村民，和我們爭奪這個地區(qū)的控制權(quán)。我們的使命是保障村莊的安全，促進(jìn)其經(jīng)濟(jì)和政治發(fā)展，但是這種工作進(jìn)展緩慢，效果往往是無形的。擊斃塔利班指揮官就成了衡量成果的一個客觀標(biāo)準(zhǔn)。

I never killed him. Instead, each day we would kill his soldiers or his soldiers would kill our Marines. The longer I lived among the Afghans, the more I realized that neither the Taliban nor we were fighting for the reasons I expected. Despite the rhetoric I internalized from the newspapers back home about why we were in Afghanistan, I ended up fighting for different reasons once I got on the ground — a mix of loyalty to my Marines, habit and the urge to survive.

我一直都沒能除掉他。但每一天我們都會殺死他的手下，或者我們的隊(duì)員被他們殺死。我待在阿富汗時間越長，就越是意識到，無論是塔利班還是我們，都不是在為我原本以為的目的而戰(zhàn)斗。盡管美國報紙大談我們出兵阿富汗的原因，我也已經(jīng)潛移默化地接受了那種論述，但我一到達(dá)這里，就開始出于別的理由而戰(zhàn)斗：對隊(duì)員的忠誠、習(xí)慣，以及生存沖動。

The enemy fighters were often young men raised alongside poppy fields in small farms set up like latticework along the river. They must have been too young and too isolated to understand anything outside of their section of the valley, never mind something global like the 9/11 attacks. These villagers fought us because that’s what they always did when foreigners came to their village. Perhaps they just wanted to be left alone.

沿河是一小塊一小塊的罌粟田，敵方的作戰(zhàn)人員往往是在這些罌粟田邊長大的年輕人。他們想必太年輕、太與世隔絕，對這片山谷之外的事情全然不懂，更別說9·11恐怖襲擊這樣的全球大事了。這些村民抗擊我們，是因?yàn)榈灿型鈦碚邅淼剿麄兊拇迩f，他們都會抗擊。也許他們只是不想被人打擾。

The more I thought about the enemy, the harder it was to view them as evil or subhuman. But killing requires a motivation, so the concept of self-defense becomes the defining principle of target attractiveness. If someone is shooting at me, I have a right to fire back. But this is a legal justification, not a moral one. The comic Louis C.K. brilliantly pointed out this absurdity: “Maybe if you pick up a gun and go to another country and you get shot, it’s not that weird. Maybe if you get shot by the dude you were just shooting at, it’s a tiny bit your fault.”

我對敵人思考得越多，就越難將他們視為惡魔或非人。但是殺戮需要一個動機(jī)，因此自衛(wèi)就成為了瞄準(zhǔn)目標(biāo)的主要理由。如果有人朝我開槍，我就有還擊的權(quán)利。但這是法律上的理由，不是道德理由。搞笑的路易斯·C·K(Louis C.K.)精辟地指出了這個說法的荒誕性：“你拿起一把槍，前去另一個國家，結(jié)果你被擊中了，這事大概算不上奇怪。如果你正要向某個家伙開槍，他卻擊中了你，你自己也有點(diǎn)錯吧。”

My worst fear before deploying was what, in training, we called “good shoot, bad result.” But there is no way in the chaos and uncertainty of war to make the right decision all the time. On one occasion, the Taliban had been shooting at us and we thought two men approaching in the distance were armed and intended to kill us. We warned them off, but it did no good. They continued to approach, and so my Marines fired. What possible reason could two men have to approach a squad of armed Marines in a firefight? When it was over and the two men lay dead we saw that they were unarmed, just two men trying to go home, who never made it.

在訓(xùn)練時，我們談到過一種“開槍妥當(dāng)，結(jié)果有錯”的狀況，那是我在被派遣到阿富汗之前最擔(dān)心的事情。但是在戰(zhàn)爭的混亂和不確定性中，不可能每次都做出正確的決定。有一次，塔利班向我們開火之后，我們感覺有兩個武裝分子正在向我們逼近，可能想干掉我們。我們警告他們離開，但沒有用。他們還在繼續(xù)靠近，于是我的隊(duì)員開了火。兩個人在交火中逼近一個海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)小分隊(duì)，還可能有什么原因?交火結(jié)束之后，我們找到這兩個人的尸體，發(fā)現(xiàn)他們手無寸鐵。他們只是想回家，可是卻永遠(yuǎn)回不了家了。

On most occasions, when ordnance would destroy the enemy or a sniper would kill a Taliban fighter, we would engage in the professional congratulations of a job well done like businessmen after a successful client meeting. Nothing of the sort happened after killing a civilian. And in this absence of group absolution, I saw for the first time how critical it actually was for my soul and my sanity.

大多數(shù)情況下，當(dāng)我們用槍炮殲滅敵人，或者狙擊手除掉一名塔利班武裝后，我們都會好好慶祝一下，就像商人們在成功會見客戶之后那樣。但發(fā)現(xiàn)平民遭到殺害之后，則不會有人進(jìn)行慶祝。脫離了集體脫罪的環(huán)境，我才第一次認(rèn)識到，那對我的靈魂和心智有多么重要。

Nobody ever talked about the accidental killing. There was paperwork, a brief investigation and silence. You can’t tell someone who has killed an innocent person that he did the right thing even if he followed all the proper procedures before shooting.

從來沒有人談?wù)撨^這起意外事件。它的文書記錄是有的，也進(jìn)行了一個簡短的調(diào)查，然后就是沉默。你不能對那個殺死無辜者的人說，他做得對，即使他在開槍之前遵循了所有正當(dāng)?shù)某绦颉?/p>

When I returned home this group absolution was supposed to take the form of a welcoming society, unlike the one Vietnam veterans returned to. But the only affirmation of my actions came through the ubiquitous “Thank you for your service.” Beyond that, nobody wanted to, or wants to, talk about what occurred overseas.

當(dāng)我回國的時候，這種集體脫罪的表現(xiàn)應(yīng)該就是一個歡迎我們歸來的社會，與越戰(zhàn)老兵回國時的情況不同。但我的行動得到的唯一肯定，是一句隨處可見的話：“感謝你的服務(wù)”。除此之外，沒人想要討論在國外發(fā)生的事情，那時不想，現(xiàn)在也不想。

IV.

四

The first Marine to be grievously injured on our deployment was shot in the neck during a firefight exactly nine years and nine days after the Sept. 11 attacks. He was a 19-year-old from Mississippi on his first tour after enlisting straight out of high school. Under enemy fire, the Navy corpsman and Marines in his squad gave him medical care as the evacuation helicopter raced to get him to the field hospital in the critical “golden hour.”

第一個在執(zhí)行任務(wù)時受重傷的海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)士兵，是在交火時被擊中了頸部，當(dāng)時距離9·11事件正好九年零九天。這名19歲的士兵來自密西西比州，這是他高中畢業(yè)后直接參軍以來，第一次執(zhí)行任務(wù)。在敵人的炮火下，海軍醫(yī)護(hù)兵和他所在小隊(duì)的士兵對他進(jìn)行護(hù)理，與此同時，救援直升機(jī)正在趕來，希望在“黃金時間”里將他送往戰(zhàn)地醫(yī)院。

When he was transported onto the helicopter 40 minutes later, the squad reported that he seemed in good spirits. He would make it to the hospital, receive emergency surgery and then be transported through Germany back to America for a long recovery at Bethesda. Except that didn’t happen. Ten minutes later the call came through the radio that he had died.

40分鐘后，他被送上直升機(jī)，小隊(duì)?wèi)?zhàn)友報告稱他看起來精神狀態(tài)良好。他能堅(jiān)持下來，到醫(yī)院接受緊急手術(shù)，然后經(jīng)由德國被送回美國，在貝塞斯達(dá)(Bethesda)度過漫長的康復(fù)過程。只可惜，這樣的事情沒有發(fā)生。10分鐘后，他們通過無線電打電話稱，這名士兵已經(jīng)死亡。

Until that moment, our deployment in Afghanistan had been exhilarating because we felt invulnerable. This invulnerability in an environment of death was the most powerful sensation I’d ever experienced. I felt favored and possessed with the power to do anything. Instantly, those feelings were replaced by uncertainty and impotency. The initial report that we lost our first Marine stunned everyone who heard it, but soon after came another call about men planting a bomb on a nearby road.

在那一刻之前，我們這些部署在阿富汗的士兵一直都很振奮，因?yàn)槲覀兏杏X自己堅(jiān)不可摧。在那種時常有人死亡的環(huán)境中，這種堅(jiān)不可摧的念頭，是我體驗(yàn)過的最強(qiáng)有力的感覺。我感覺受到了眷顧，而且癡迷于那種無所不能的感覺。很快，這些感覺就被不確定和無能為力的感覺所取代。我們失去了第一名士兵的消息剛剛傳來時，每一個聽到的人都震驚了，但我們很快就接到另一個電話，稱有人在附近的道路放置炸彈。

Seeing the enemy so quickly after our Marine was killed was the perfect opportunity for revenge. I watched the missile strike the men’s car on the gritty gray-and-white footage of a surveillance drone’s camera and then watched one of them run away on fire and collapse. This was accompanied by the exultation of everyone around me. High-fives. Cheers. Fist pumps. If we couldn’t bring our Marine back to life, at least we could take a life. The power returned to us a little bit. It was an illogical equation but in the moment it rang true.

在我們的士兵被殺后很快就看到了敵人，這是一個絕佳的復(fù)仇機(jī)會。無人偵察機(jī)的攝像頭傳來了粗糙的灰白畫面，我從中看到導(dǎo)彈擊中了他們的車，后來又看到其中一人身上著火，在奔逃的過程中倒地不起。我身邊的每一個人都狂喜不已，擊掌、歡呼、揮舞拳頭。如果我們無法救活自己的士兵，至少能奪取敵人的性命。我們的力量恢復(fù)了一些。這個思路并不符合邏輯，但當(dāng)時的感覺就是這樣。

V.

五

I could look you in the eye and tell you I’m sure that the two men we killed right after our Marine died were planting a bomb. I remember watching the drone surveillance video as they dug and appeared to drop an explosive device by the side of the road. At the same time, doubt creeps in. The emotions surrounding loss and revenge can distort reality. Maybe it’s too convenient to believe that after losing our first Marine we just happened to find a couple of members of the Taliban planting a bomb. The fog of war doesn’t just limit what you can know; it creates doubt about everything you’re certain that you know.

我可以看著你的眼睛告訴你，我確信，我們在這名士兵死后擊斃的兩人，當(dāng)時正在放置炸彈。我記得當(dāng)時通過無人偵察機(jī)拍攝的畫面，看到他們在挖坑，似乎是在路邊放置一個爆炸裝置。與此同時，疑問慢慢產(chǎn)生。那種因?yàn)槭勘囃鱿胍獔髲?fù)而產(chǎn)生的情緒，能夠扭曲現(xiàn)實(shí)?；蛟S我們相信在失去第一位士兵后，碰巧就發(fā)現(xiàn)塔利班成員正在放置炸彈，這有些過于輕易了。但戰(zhàn)爭的迷霧不僅僅限制了你能知道的事情，還會使你對確信的事產(chǎn)生懷疑。

The madness of war is that while this system is in place to kill people, it may actually be necessary for the greater good. We live in a dangerous world where killing and torture exist and where the persecution of the weak by the powerful is closer to the norm than the civil society where we get our Starbucks. Ensuring our own safety and the defense of a peaceful world may require training boys and girls to kill, creating technology that allows us to destroy anyone on the planet instantly, dehumanizing large segments of the global population and then claiming there is a moral sanctity in killing. To fathom this system and accept its use for the greater good is to understand that we still live in a state of nature.

戰(zhàn)爭的瘋狂之處在于，雖然這套體系的目的是殺人，但對于實(shí)現(xiàn)更大的善，實(shí)際上或許是必要的。我們生活在一個存在殺戮和折磨的危險世界里，與享用星巴克(Starbucks)的文明社會相比，恃強(qiáng)凌弱的情況在這個世界里更接近常態(tài)。確保我們自身的安全，保衛(wèi)世界的和平，可能需要訓(xùn)練年輕男女怎樣殺人，需要創(chuàng)造能使我們立即毀滅地球上所有人的技術(shù)，需要將地球上的很多人視作非人，并宣稱殺人具有道德神圣性。理解這個體系，接受使用它來實(shí)現(xiàn)更大的善，就需要理解，我們?nèi)匀簧钤谝环N自然狀態(tài)。