Joe’s own military experiences and his memories of other soldiers consistently convey the toll that war takes upon a soldier’s mind and body. Throughout Johnny Got His Gun, wartime service is relentlessly de-heroized, with a particular emphasis placed on the ways in which war-related trauma manifests itself physically, emotionally, and mentally in survivors.   

As Joe begins to regain lucidity in the hospital, he is shocked to discover the catastrophic extent of his physical injuries. As someone left deaf, blind, mute, and without limbs after multiple amputations, Joe experiences his transformation as “a full-grown man suddenly being stuffed back into his mother’s body” (83) due to his state of utter dependency. Joe cannot even feed himself, as “somewhere sticking in his stomach was a tube they fed him through” (83)—yet another feature that is “exactly like the womb” (83). A machine allows Joe to breathe, while nurses deal with his urine and excrement, as well as washing him and controlling the conditions of his environment. Like a baby, Joe spends much of the novel unable to communicate beyond basic physical reactions, as when he attempts to show his pleasure at a nurse’s visit: “he always squirmed to let her know he was pleased to see her” (147).