Jul 02, Lauren rated it liked it Colby Buzzell is a California slacker turned soldier turned professional writier. His hold on literary technique is astounding. He is a natural writer. The only pitfall this book has is the continuously exensive use of foul language.
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Buzzell was 26 years old when he entered the Army. We both got what we wanted from the Army, too, which is cool. In November Buzzell deployed to Iraq with a Stryker fighting vehicle-equipped brigade from the 2nd Infantry Division. In June , Buzzell began a blog about his deployment, which he called My War in tribute to a ripping Black Flag song from the early s. Why not? If these soldiers and even officers were doing them and saying all sorts of moronic shit, and military was allowing it to go on, I might as well do one, too.
He comes off as open, honest, curious, funny, eager to explain, and fearless—the last thing anyone would accuse him of being is a stick-in-the-mud. Despite an anti-authoritarian streak a mile wide, he finds plenty to like and respect about the Army.
That tells me right there that he wanted to be a good troop and probably was. Even his saga of military transgressiveness keeps getting subverted by members of his chain-of-command who are remarkably understanding about his blog. But I guess the 13, soldiers, Marines, sailors, and airmen including me who started blogs were too much to deal with. It would have been like trying to ban tattoos or smoking. Another said this, but it was false. The Army orders said we were going to do this, and instead we did that.
Links and brass shells spitting out of the right side of my weapon, making a huge mess all over. It was fucking beautiful. Almost burned the barrel.
I sprayed all up and down the tower, which had four or five slim windows, until I expended my ammunition. As I reloaded the with another belt of 7. Desire to do as little as possible combined with scorn for the chain-of-command. Desire not to fuck-up mixed with eagerness to bask in the glow of higher-up approval.
In regard to violence, politics, and ethics, Buzzell feigns glee in regard to the first and indifference about the latter two, but over the course of My War piles up evidence that the war is badly fought and mostly pointless. Vivid is a good word for My War. One of the first memoirs on the scene, it sets a high standard for memorable detail, episode, character, and language. Mocking and euphoric rather than mopy, My War challenges readers to question whether mockery and euphoria are justifiable and sustainable responses to combat.
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My war : killing time in Iraq
My War: Killing Time in Iraq