Generation Kill Part 14

THIRTY-FOUR.

AT FIRST LIGHT ON APRIL 19, the battalion leaves Baghdad on a deserted super-highway and sets up camp sixty kilometers south of the city. The encampment offers a familiar settinga"Humvees nestled beneath cammie nets in a barren field surrounded by low berms. The next morning, April 20, is Easter Sunday. Itas almost like Florida weather this morning. Itas humid and bright, but there are clouds in the sky as well, and it rains periodically through the sunlight.

Navy Lieutenant Commander Bodley, the chaplain, consecrates this day by pounding a crude wooden cross into the mud. He drapes it with an olive-drab rag to symbolize Christas body on the cross.

At nine in the morning, the chaplain gathers about fifty faithful Marinesa"predominantly officers and personnel from battalion support unitsa"who sit in the dirt in front of the cross, rifles propped up beside them, and leads them in a mumbling version of the hymn aHe Rose from the Dead.a Then the chaplain tells them, aI have good news.a He announces that a Marine has chosen this special day to be baptized.

When Colbert hears of the good news after watching the service from his Humvee in the distance, he cannot conceal his outrage. To him, religion is right up there with country music as an expression of collective idiocy. aGive me a break,a he says. aMarines getting baptized? This used to be a place of men with pure warrior spirit. Chaplains are a G.o.dd.a.m.n waste.a But Colbertas disgust this morning isnat merely about religion. He and others in the platoon are annoyed by continued threats from Encino Man and Casey Kasem to punish Fick and Gunny Wynn for disobeying orders. Encino Man remains angry at Fick and Gunny Wynn for questioning his plan to call in an artillery strike nearly on top of their position at Ar Rifa. Since that episode, Fick and Gunny Wynn have persisted in questioning Encino Manas orders, most recently in Baghdad when Fick declined to send a patrol out at night.

Casey Kasem has complained vociferously about the alack of obedience to ordersa displayed by the leaders of Second Platoon. aTheir job is to execute whatever the commander tells them,a heas fumed, aand they donat.a While following orders is at the heart of good military discipline, the men have no faith in the layer of command above Fick, starting with Encino Man and his loyal enlisted helper, Casey Kasem. aThose two incompetents are dangerous out here,a one of Colbertas friends in the platoon says. a aObedience to ordersa to them means they donat want to look bad to their commanders. Theyare afraid to question orders. Fick and Gunny Wynn are great men because they have the courage to do the right thing.a THE DEBATE over questioning orders from superiors becomes far less abstract the evening of April 22, at First Reconas camp south of Baghdad. This night a battalion watch officer, whose job is to sit in for Lt. Col. Ferrando and, in effect, babysit the battalion when heas indisposed, mistakenly issues an order for Marines to go out in the darkness and mark the location of a minefield by the highway north of the camp. The watch officer radios Capt. Patterson and asks him to send some of his men in Alpha to escort combat engineers on the mission.

The mines were discovered a few days earlier by Pattersonas men along the highway a kilometer north of the camp. Combat engineers have been removing mines all day, but hundreds remain. The watch officer erroneously believes thereas an order to mark the location of the remaining mines with chemlites. Patterson tells him that he must be mistaken. Thereas a division-wide order banning Marines from operating in minefields at night. Besides, thousands of American military vehicles have pa.s.sed by the mines in recent weeks without incident. The job can wait until morning, Patterson tells him, declining to execute the order.

But the watch officer persists. He radios Encino Man and asks him to send Marines out in the dark to mark the minefield. Encino Man promises to push Marines out immediately. He later tells me, aI didnat want to send Marines out there, but the watch officer is the voice of the battalion commander [Ferrando]. I couldnat say no.a The operation gets into full swing when Encino Man contacts Captain America and issues the command for his men to accompany three engineers into the minefield. In the wake of the episode in which Captain America taunted an EPW with his bayonet, he was reinstated to command of his platoon following a brief suspension but is still awaiting final disposition on possible disciplinary action from Ferrando. The enlisted men, Kocher and Redman, were cleared of wrongdoing in that matter, and Captain America now orders their team and another to transport the engineers up the road to the minefield.

The Marines reach the minefield at about nine-thirty that night, parking two Humvees on the highway, leaving their headlights on. Kocher steps onto the road with three engineers, among them Gunnery Sergeant David Dill and Staff Sergeant Ray Valdez. The plan tonight is simply for the engineers to stand on the road and toss chemlites into the minefield that runs along the side of it.

The engineers earlier spent the day in the field removing more than 150 mines. Dill, a compactly built twenty-seven-year-old with a tattoo on his right calf that says MINEFIELD MAINTENANCE is pa.s.sionate about land mines. Before he was attached to First Recon he spent a year at Guantnamo in Cuba removing mines from the fields the U.S. sowed there in the 1960s. Other engineers who work with him consider Dill an inspirational figure. aHe makes everybody excited about our jobs,a says a Marine who serves under him.

Combat engineers tend to be fanatical about their profession. Perhaps itas a prerequisite. De-mining, which is usually done completely by toucha"probing the earth with plastic rods, then feeling each mine to check for antihandling b.o.o.by traps and removing it by handa"is highly stressful. According to their own guidelines, engineers are not supposed to pull more than twelve ant.i.tank mines a day, given the toll it takes on their nerves.

During the afternoon of April 22, Dill removed more than thirty mines from the field beside the road (with his team gathering an additional 120, which they detonated in a terrific explosion just before reentering the field after dark). Now, standing on the road in the glare of the Humveesa headlights, Dill observes what appears to be a mine in a portion of the field believed to have been cleared. He and Valdez, twenty-eight, step off the road to investigate.

A third engineer standing far back on the road, twenty-three-year-old Sergeant Randy Weiss, sees Dill and Valdez walk off the road and is about to caution them but decides against it. Weiss later tells me, aIf anyone knows what heas doing, itas Gunny Dill.a Not only is Dill Weissas mentor within the Marines, they are good friends. Both of them married, each with a young child, they live near each other off-base, and their wives are close.

Thereas a tremoundous blast as Dill steps on a mine at the edge of the road. Weiss is temporarily blinded by spraying debris, even though heas nearly ten meters back from the explosion.

Kocher, standing directly behind Dill on the road, is thrown onto his back. He goes temporarily deaf from the blast, and his eyes reflexively shut. In the immediate aftermath, only his olfactory sense still functions. He smells burning flesh. Kocher opens his eyes and sees Dill lying a few meters out in the field, thrown there by the explosion.

When Kocher rises to his feet, the ringing in his ears subsides. He hears Dill yelling, aIam bleeding out! Throw me a tourniquet.a Kocher and his teamas corpsman, forty-six-year-old Navy Hospitalman First Cla.s.s George Graham, walk about four meters into the minefield. Dill screams, aGet the f.u.c.k out of here!a Kocher sees that Dillas foot hangs from his leg at a weird angle. The boot is shredded. His toes are exposed, dangling by some skin. His heel is blown off, and his tib-fib bones are sticking out, the ends charred and smoking. He stepped on the smallest mine in the field, a BS-50 Italian atoe-popper.a He and Graham tourniquet him off and carry him back to the road. (The next day, when engineers return to the field, they find two other mines a few inches from the footprints made by Kocher and Graham.) Redman had been manning the Humveeas .50-cal ten meters back on the road when the explosion went off. The first thing Redman heard in the aftermath was Captain America screaming, aIam hit! Iam hit!a For an instant, Redman, he later admits, is flooded with a sense of relief. If Captain America were indeed taken out of action, a lot of Marinesa prayers would be answered. But it turns out the shrapnel Captain America thinks is in his arm is nothing but an imaginary pain.

Redman leaps into the front of the Humvee and joins Carazales, the driver. They try to radio the battalion for medical a.s.sistance. First Reconas camp is only one or two kilometers distant, but the radios arenat functioning.

Redman jumps onto the highway. He sees Valdez wandering beside the road, holding his hands over his eyes, moaning.

Redman pulls Valdez onto the pavement. They kneel facing each other and Redman grabs him by the shoulders to steady him. aDude, youare gonna be okay,a Redman says. aLet go of your eyes.a Redman gently pulls Valdezas hands away from his face.

aAre my eyelids there?a Valdez asks.

aYeah,a Redman says, not really certain if they are there. He shines a flashlight into his face.

aAre my eyes there?a Valdez asks. aI canat see nothing.a Redman suppresses the urge to vomit. Both of Valdezas eyes are filled with pebbles and debris. His left eye is packed. b.l.o.o.d.y tissue puffs out around it like a blossom.

aDude, your eye is gone,a Redman says.

Redman carefully plucks out the debris from the mangled hole that used to be Valdezas left eye. As he shines the light into it in order to put a dressing on it, Valdez says, aI can see your light. My eye must be okay.a aI guess I was wrong,a Redman says. aIam really sorry.a But Valdezas eye is gone. The nerves are sending false signals to his brain, fooling him into thinking he can see the light.

They load the two men into the Humvees, one in each. Getting Valdez in is easy. He can sit upright. Loading Dill in with his toes and foot hanging by the skin, and charred bones sticking out, is not so easy. They have to drape him sideways across the backseats in Kocheras Humvee, while trying not to jiggle his loose foot too much. Dill curses steadily, af.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k it hurts.a aGive him morphine,a Captain America says.

Everyone ignores him. Even the most boot Marine knows you donat give morphine to a guy with an unstabilized, bleeding wound. It can make his blood pressure drop and kill him.

Captain America jumps in Kocheras vehicle. The camp is about a kilometer due south on the perfectly straight highway. Driving back there should be a simple proposition. But Captain America manages to screw this up.

aTurn off here,a he says. aI know a shortcut.a aLetas take the road we know,a Kocher says.

After weeks of having his authority mocked and stripped away by his men, Captain America decides to a.s.sert himself. He orders Carazales to make the turn. aDo what I say,a he says. aI know this shortcut.a Fifty meters into Captain Americaas shortcut, the Humvee drops into a sabka patch. Carazales tries rocking the vehicle out from the tar and quicksand, but it only sinks deeper. Dill, lying in the back with his partially connected foot and toes bouncing around, howls in agony.

The Marines are forced to carry him out to the second Humvee. They make it back to the camp and medevac the two engineers. Dill loses his right leg up to the knee, including his tattoo. Valdez loses his left eye.

The next morning, April 23, Weiss, whose face is polka-dotted with cuts from the blast but who is otherwise fine, returns to the minefield with another engineer. He clears twelve more mines, and they finish marking the field.

When I ask Encino Man about this episode a few days later, he insists he did the right thing in not questioning the order to send the men out there. aGunny Dill was the mistake in the whole thing,a he says. aHeas the one that stepped off the road.a

THIRTY-FIVE.

AT TEN IN THE MORNING on April 23, First Recon drives south on Highway 8 to its final camp in Iraq outside of Ad Diwaniyah, 180 kilometers from Baghdad. The battalion joins about 18,000 other Marines from the First Division occupying a former Iraqi military complexa"barracks, supply depots and training fields spread across fifteen square kilometers. While most of First Reconas Marines wind up occupying brick barracks, through the luck of the draw those in Bravo Company end up in a former tank repair yard in a windswept corner of the camp. For the next six weeks, they will sleep in the open on a four-by-forty-meter concrete strip.

Surveying this infernal spot with an almost satisfied smile the afternoon he arrives, one of the men in Second Platoon says, aOne universal fact of being in the Marine Corps is that no matter where we go in the world, we always end up in some random s.h.i.tty place.a Bravoas Second and Third platoons spend most of their daytime hours here, as well as their nights, as if theyare living on a ship. The campas burn pits and latrines are located adjacent to this sleeping/living area. Plastic MRE wrappings and human excrement, mixed with diesel fuel in steel barrels, are burned round the clock just ten meters from the men. When the wind is still, they live in a haze of flies, mosquitoes and pungent, black smoke. When it blows, theyare inundated with dust. Shamal storms, with fifty-mile-per-hour winds, strike every day, usually lasting three to six hours. During them, Marines just lie on the concrete pad with ponchos wrapped around their heads. Daytime temperatures now typically hover around 115 degrees. Wild dogs are kept at bay by a Marine gunnery sergeant who roams the camp with a shotgun, blasting away at them.

According to Navy Commander Kevin Moore, the division surgeon, injuries among Marines at the camp are running high from guys picking up the unexploded ordnance littering the place. Numerous cases of malaria have occurred, and everyone is becoming ill with what Moore calls aa.s.s-to-handa disease. A few Marines have undergone psychotic episodes and have been picked up running around the wire, screaming at imaginary Fedayeen. Moore attributes most of these cases to temporary psychosis induced by overuse of stimulants like Ripped Fuel.

One Marine in First Reconas support unit freaks out early in the stay at this camp. The episode is prompted after a Game Boy (which he brought into Iraq in violation of battalion regulations) disappeared from his rucksack. Early one afternoon following the battalionas arrival at Ad Diwaniyah, he runs into the warehouse serving as a chow hall with his M-16, puts it to the head of the suspected thief, racks a round into the chamber and screams, aGive me back my Game Boy!a Other Marines talk him out of pulling the trigger. The battalion isolates him for a few days, then returns him to his unit. The Game Boy is never recovered.

On my third morning here, Iam sitting with Colbertas team, eating an MRE breakfast. Most Marines still havenat had a proper shower since they left Camp Mathilda more than a month ago. A few rinsed off by spraying themselves with a fire hose in a warehouse they occupied in Baghdad, but not everyone had a chance to use it. Fick washes up for breakfast by spitting in his hands and wiping them on his dirty fatigues.

Colbert says, aYou know, I donat miss anything from home. The only exception is my bike. I miss that. Speed, solitude and no one can touch me.a aYou mean youare out here in the middle of nowhere, and you miss being alone?a Person laughs quietly. He doesnat say anything else, which is kind of amazing. After a month of insane, nonstop chattering in the Humvee, he barely talks now. When Person detoxes from Ripped Fuel, endless days of mortar fire, ambushes and sleepless nights behind the wheel of the Humvee, he turns into a soft-spoken guy from Nevada, Missouri, pop. 8,607. He now admits to me, despite his relentless mockery of the Corps, aWhen I get out of the Marines in November, Iam going to miss it.a In spite of the austerities at the platoonas encampent, spirits are high. The men build an open-air gym. They scavenge gears and drive shafts from wrecked Iraqi tanks and turn them into free weights and chin-up bars they hang from concrete pilings. They run for kilometers in the 115-degree heat. They practice hand-to-hand combat in the dirt. They pace back and forth barefoot through gravel to build calluses on their feet. The Marines sleep through each night for the first time in weeks, boil coffee every morning on fires started with C-4 explosive, play cards, dip tin after tin of Copenhagen and spend days, when they are not working out, engaging in endless bull sessions. aMan, this is f.u.c.king awesome,a Second Platoonas twenty-two-year-old Corporal James Chaffin declares one morning. aI canat believe Iam getting paid to work out, dip and hang out with the best guys in the world.a Up until now, no one has known the name of the war theyave been fighting. Gunny Wynn pa.s.ses on the rumor that he thinks they might be calling it aIraqi Freedom.a Hearing the news, Carazales scoffs. af.u.c.k that. Iall tell you what afreedoma was, Phase Three Iraq,a he says, referring to the militaryas term for the combat-operations phase of the invasion. aThat was f.u.c.king Iraqi freedom. Rip through this b.i.t.c.h shooting anything that moves from your window. Thatas what I call freedom.a THE SENIOR OFFICERS, set up in nicer quarters across the camp, are basking in the glow of victory. First Recon, one of the smallest, most lightly armed battalions in the Corps, led the way for much of the Marinesa blitzkrieg to Baghdad. aNo other military in the world can do what we do,a Ferrando tells me. aWe are Americaas shock troops.a I meet Lt. Col. Ferrando in a small office that formerly belonged to an Iraqi officer. The one-story building is shaded by sycamore trees and has thick adobe walls, keeping it relatively cool even on this hot afternoon. One of the issues still d.o.g.g.i.ng the battalion is Captain Americaas behavior. After a lengthy investigation into the incident in which he taunted an EPW with his bayonet, Ferrando returned him to command but hesitated to fully exonerate him. He finally does in late April, about the time I meet with him. He tells me he thinks Captain America walked a fine line but was still awithin the boxa of acceptable behavior. But he adds, aIn my mind, when you allow that behavior to progress, you end up with a My Lai Ma.s.sacre.a Then he leans across his desk and asks me if I think he should have taken harsher action toward Captain America.

I honestly canat answer him. In the past six weeks, I have been on hand while this comparatively small unit of Marines has killed quite a few people. I personally saw three civilians shot, one of them fatally with a bullet in the eye. These were just the tip of the iceberg. The Marines killed dozens, if not hundreds, in combat through direct fire and through repeated, at times almost indiscriminate, artillery strikes. And no one will probably ever know how many died from the approximately 30,000 pounds of bombs First Recon ordered dropped from aircraft. I canat imagine how the man ultimately responsible for all of these deathsa"at least on the battalion levela"sorts it all out and draws the line between what is wanton killing and what is civilized military conduct. I suppose if it were up to me, I might let Captain America keep his job, but I would take away his rifle and bayonet and give him a cap gun.

As Iam about to leave his office, Ferrando stops me. aSomething Iam struggling with internally is itas exciting to get shot at,a he says, sounding almost confessional. aItas an excitement that I hadnat thought about before.a He hastily adds, aBut at the same time itas a terrible feeling to be the man sending other people into combat.a Earlier, in a talk to his men, Ferrando referred to his order to send them onto the airfield at Qalat Sukhar with no preparation as areckless.a Many of his men feel the whole campaign of rushing into ambushes was characterized by recklessness. But in the end, heas been vindicated. He became, in a sense, Maj. Gen. Mattisas go-to guy in central Iraq. While Col. Dowdy, commander of the much larger regimental force in the region, sometimes appeared to hesitate, as he had in entering Nasiriyah, and was removed from command in early April, Ferrando seldom if ever turned down a chance to race his forces into another hairy situation. Much of the time during the dash to Al Kut, Ferrandoas battalion set the pace. He shrugged off the fact that his men werenat adequately equipped or specifically trained for the kinds of a.s.saults they were doing. (By contrast, after Dowdy was relieved of his command he was reportedly castigated in a subsequent fitness report for being aoverly concerned about the welfarea of his men, with the idea being that this concern got in the way of mission accomplishment.) In the end, Ferrandoas battalion exemplified the virtues of maneuver warfare, employing speed over firepower to throw Iraqi defenders off balance.

As much as some of the enlisted men despise Ferrando for what they saw as his dangerous haste (not to mention his obsession with the Grooming Standard), Fick praises him. aHe got the job done for Major General Mattis, and in the Marine Corps thatas all that matters. Itas mission accomplishment first, troop welfare second. Ferrando has no problem with that.a When I talk to Mattis the next day at Ad Diwaniyah, he heaps praise on the courage and initiative displayed by the men in First Recon, to whom he credits with a large measure of the invasionas success. aThey should be very proud,a he says.

After I return to Second Platoonas squalid encampment and pa.s.s on the generalas praise, the men stand around in the dust, considering his glowing remarks. Finally, Garza says, aYeah? Well, we still did a lot of stupid s.h.i.t.a aWar doesnat change anything,a Doc Bryan says. aThis place was f.u.c.ked up before we came, and itas f.u.c.ked up now. I personally donat believe we aliberateda the Iraqis. Time will tell.a aThe American people ought to know the price we pay to maintain their standard of living,a Espera says. Despite his avowals of being a complete cynic, he continually turns back to the incident at Al Hayy, where he shot and killed three unarmed men fleeing a truck at the Marinesa roadblock. aI wish I could go back in time and see if they were enemy, or just confused civilians,a he says.

aIt could have been a truckful of babies, and with our Rules of Engagement you did the right thing,a Fick says.

aIam not saying I care,a Espera says. aI donat give a f.u.c.k. But I keep thinking about what the priest said. Itas not a sin to kill with a purpose, as long you donat enjoy it. My question is, is indifference the same as enjoyment?a aAll religious stuff aside,a Colbert cuts in. aThe fact is people who canat kill will be subject to those who can.a Despite their moral qualmsa"or lack thereofa"about killing, most Marines unabashedly love the action. aYou really canat top it,a Redman says. aCombat is the supreme adrenaline rush. You take rounds. Shoot back, s.h.i.t starts blowing up. Itas sensory overload. Itas the one thing thatas not overrated in the military.a aThe f.u.c.ked thing,a Doc Bryan says, ais the men weave been fighting probably came here for the same reasons we did, to test themselves, to feel what war is like. In my view it doesnat matter if you oppose or support war. The machine goes on.a

EPILOGUE.

I LEAVE First Reconas camp at Ad Diwaniyah in a Navy helicopter at dawn on May 4. We fly low and fast to avoid enemy ground fire. Our flight path takes us directly over the tank repair yard, where I see the men of Second Platoon stirring from their sleep on the concrete pad. They will remain here for more than a month, returning to Camp Pendleton on June 3, 2003.

Pappy, shot in the foot at Al Muwaffaqiyah, returned to duty at Camp Pendleton before his platoonas homecoming. Despite having received a aluckya wound in an extremity, Pappy had to undergo intensive physical therapy to overcome a limp. Still walking with a cane when he returned to duty, he was roused one evening in his barracks room by a surprise visit from the ladies of the Key Wives Cluba"a spouse support group headed by Encino Manas wife. She and Lt. Col. Ferrandoas wife offered him a heartfelt Key Wivesa welcome home and gifts of fresh baked goods and a new toothbrush, then left a few minutes later. Pappyas b.l.o.o.d.y boot, worn the night he was shot, had been out on his floor when the Key Wives dropped in, but they made no mention of it. Pappy thought nothing of the visit, until June 3, when he went to March Air Force base to greet First Recon on its return. The first man he encountered off the plane was Ferrando, who walked up to him on the tarmac and chewed Pappy out for having left his tattered boot on the floor of his room when the Key Wives visited. aI donat like you showing your b.l.o.o.d.y boot to my wife,a Ferrando had rasped, then brushed past, without further ado. aAt least he didnat b.i.t.c.h about my mustache,a Pappy later said. Pappy was awarded a Bronze Star for his actions in the invasion.

Upon his return, Colbert received one of the highest honors in the Marine Corps, a combat meritorious promotion to staff sergeant. He was nominated to enter a two-year exchange program with the British Royal Marines, with whom he is now serving.

Person got out of the Marines and moved to Kansas City, Missouri, to pursue his career as a rock star while working at the front desk of a twenty-four-hour fitness club.

After being promoted to the rank of captain, Fick left the Marine Corps in August to pursue graduate degrees in business and foreign relations at Harvard. For several months he debated whether he had been a good officer, or whether his concern for his men colored his judgment. He concluded, aMy feelings made me a more conflicted officer. There was no celebratory cigar smoking on the battlefield for me. But we achieved every mission objective. I did my job.a Under his command, the men in Second Platoon received more combat citations and awards than any other platoon in First Reconnaissance Battalion.

Capt. Patterson also left the Marine Corps, after being promoted to major, in order to study environmental engineering at the University of Washington. After more than ten years of distinguished military service, Patterson departed following a loss of control in front of his mena"one that only raised their opinion of him. In my last conversation with Patterson, he confessed that he was still troubled by the episode in which Encino Man had mistakenly followed an incorrect order to send men out to mark a minefield at night. One of the engineers injured, Valdez, who lost an eye, had served with Pattersonas company. aValdez was my man,a Patterson said to me. aWhat the f.u.c.k happened?a Despite his anger, he refused to cast blame on any individual. aIt happened as a result of dysfunction in the battalion, not because of what a single officer did.a Pattersonas eruptiona"and it could be called that given the fact that ordinarily he is so mild-mannered it almost makes him seem diminutivea"happened midday on May 3, when the men in the companies were racing in a compet.i.tion whose winners would receive a phone call home. Encino Man checked a corporal from Alpha Company who was pulling ahead in an obstacle race, and Patterson exploded, rushing Encino Man, throwing him into a headlock and slamming him against a wall. The enlisted men were forced to break the two officers apart. Later, Patterson laughed off the a.s.sault, claiming it was done in the spirit of fun. Whatever his motives, Patterson achieved hero status within the ranks.

Captain America departed from his command a few weeks after the battalionas return. Some thought the move was a demotion, until he was rea.s.signed to a prestigious command staff position in another unit.

Doc Bryan had a sad parting from the Middle East. While waiting at a desert camp in Kuwait to fly home, he was on hand at a football game held among Marines in other units when one of the players went berserk with his M-16 and shot a young man on the opposing team, hitting him in the chest and neck. Doc Bryan and other corpsmen were unable to save the Marine. The incident only added fuel to Doc Bryanas bitter complaints about war. Later, Doc Bryan had been engaging in one of his typical b.i.t.c.h sessions about the incompetence of superiors when, he says, he suddenly heard his voice as if it belonged to someone else. Something snapped in him, and he realized, aYou know what, Iam just not cut out for the military.a But the feeling didnat last. His first week home, he was happily recruited out of First Recon into a secretive Special Forces unit. He has been training for a mission he is not at liberty to talk about.

Trombley finally completed the Basic Reconnaissance Course and is now a full-fledged Recon Marine. In the autumn he also partic.i.p.ated in an LAPD training program. Heas thinking of joining the LAPD when he gets out in a year.

Reyes achieved the dream of a lifetime when his temporary promotion to team leader after Pappyas wounding at Muwaffaqiyah was made permanent at Camp Pendleton. A week later, he was suspended following a hazing incident that occurred under his supervision. While training a Marine new to First Recon, one who was having trouble keeping up on a fitness run, Garza ordered the kid to dig a Ranger grave. Then Garza and others buried him, leaving only a small breathing s.p.a.ce. Reyes had approved of the disciplinary measure, telling me later, aThat was the kind of hard training we did under Horsehead.a Reyes was immediately docked a monthas pay. The rest of the men in the platoon took money from their paychecks to make up the difference in his lost salary, while he awaited formal punishment proceedings.

A few weeks after Espera returned from Iraq he had an eerie experience while driving with his family down Ventura Boulevard in Los Angeles. Espera was at the wheel of a new SUV, purchased to celebrate his homecoming, when he glimpsed a man on the street who looked exactly like an Iraqi civilian the platoon had fatally shot at a roadblock in Iraq. In an instant he realized it wasnat the pedestrian on the street who had reminded him of the dead man; the light was glancing off the windshield of his new SUV the same way it had in his Humvee when head witnessed the shooting. A short while after this flashback, Espera was invited to a party at a gated community in Malibu where residents wanted to toast a war hero. In civilian clothes, with his hair grown out, and having gained the weight that head lost in Iraq, Espera cut a handsome figure. As the guests repeatedly praised his heroism in serving his country, Espera hung his head with an almost embarra.s.sed smile. Then, after his fifth or sixth gla.s.s of wine, he rose to his feet. aIam not a hero,a he said. The guests nodded, their smiles stretching even wider at this heroas show of humility. aGuys like me are just a necessary part of things,a Espera continued. aTo maintain this way of life in a fine community like this, you need psychos like us to go out and drop a bomb on somebodyas house.a In November the men were told First Recon would be returning to Iraq. Reyes was reinstated as team leader. Gunny Wynn, who was still facing disciplinary action for his disobedience to Encino Man in Iraq, was also cleared. aIn the end,a Reyes says, athey need bodies for the war.a Reyes adds, aThis is the way the Corps is. You join for the idealism, but eventually you see the flaws in it. You might fight this for a while. Then you accept that one man isnat going to change the Marine Corps. If you love the Corps, you give up some of the ideals which motivated you to join in the first place.a When Person heard through the grapevine that his unit was going back, he called Gunny Wynn at home, drunk, from Kansas City, and told him he was reenlisting. Gunny Wynn told him to shut up, go to bed and stay a civilian.

As this book goes to press, the men in Bravo Second Platoon, along with the rest of First Recon, are in Fallujah, Iraq.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.

This book would not have been possible without the bravery of the United States Marine Corps, which in its mission to defend the U.S. Const.i.tution allowed a reporter in its midst. Thanks to all of the men of First Recon, from G.o.dfather on down, who helped in providing access, interviews and support. Special thanks to Nate for his wisdom, to Josh for his exceptional driving and to Brad, James, Gabe and Walt for their warm hospitality and accurate shooting. This effort was backed by Jann S. Wenner and began with the help of these mentors: Allan MacDonell, Michael Louis Albo, Dylan Ford, Janet Duckworth, Karl Taro Greenfeld, Will Dana, Gunnery Sergeant Mark Oliva, Rex Bowman, Sean Woods, Richard Abate, Rob McMahon and David Highfill.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authoras Imagination or are used fict.i.tiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Penguin Putnam Inc. World Wide Web site address is

http://www.penguinputnam.com