War

Sebastian Junger's newest book, War, was on order but unavailable when I asked a librarian about it at central library in Portland four weeks ago. She put me on the reserved list, and a couple of days ago I picked up a copy finally.

Junger, you may recall, is the author of The Perfect Storm, a gripping account of a fishing accident in the Outer Banks region of the Atlantic off the coast of New England. George Clooney starred in the movie, which wasn't too bad, but not nearly as riveting as the book.

I'm about halfway through War. It isn't as inspired as Storm, but it is a fascinating read nonetheless. Junger spent a year embedded with a U.S. Army platoon in a Taliban-controlled segment of Afghanistan's Kunar Province near the Pakistan border, entering and leaving the region five times over the course of the 14 month embed.

Taliban fighters control a thirty-six square mile swath in the southern area of the province, in the Korengal Valley. The valley is a tight area of villages hugging the Korengal River, which confluences with the Pech River to the north. The stretch of road from the Pech River to a series of U.S. outposts situated at the lower end of the valley, in the heart of Taliban fighters' turf, is the most dangerous road in the country. A majority of U.S. casualties in the Afghanistan War were occurring in the Korengal Valley when Junger embedded with the troops in 2008. He describes in detail what happened there over a harrowing year.

War correspondents are usually nuts, and Junger is no different. He gets caught in firefights, has a Humvee blown out from under him, and falls in love with the Army grunts he is writing about. Like the soldiers under his reporter's gaze, he loses interest in the politics of America's current wars and turns survivalist to cope. The book is about survival and the warrior bond.

Junger notes that grunts are unconcerned with moral questions. There are no moral questions when someone is shooting at you. Reading War, one is struck by how all the memoirs and reportage of war correspondents are always similar. Inevitably, the writer falls in love with the troops, drops attempts to question the war's meaning on any level that hasn't a warrior's slant, and tells a gripping story.

In other words, you've read this book before.

The usual suspects show up in the narrative. Only their names and home towns have changed. The crusty old-timer reappears, along with the cherries new to the killing business. The rough but brilliant sergeant is in the hooch next to the frightened and inexperienced young officer. The types are ready-made for a movie set.

This book and likely soon-to-be-movie will be very similar to Oliver Stone's Platoon, sans murder among the friendlies. That is the story, recycled as non-fiction.

The commanders are asses more concerned with dress codes than strategy. The soldiers are quick with their bios and tell Junger things like; it was either the Army or jail. The Army or a dead-end job in a Subway. The Army or boredom.

In rare cases there is patriotism.

This book doesn't reach the plateau of the best books about war, but it is serviceable, particularly in the way the author draws the terrain of Afghanistan and Korengal Valley.

Don't buy the book. Go to your local library and get on the waiting list like I did.


TS