Why would anyone want to read a story as disturbing as this?
If it wasn’t for the war, Vietnam in the ’60s was not a place any rational American would want to be. Nonetheless, hundreds of thousands of American boys went there, some willingly, some not. Now we owe it to them to go there too. Digger, Dogface, Brownjob, Grunt takes you there so you can understand.
Who did you know that went? A husband or son, a fiancé, a nephew or grandson? A friend or the child of a friend of the family? You will probably find them here. More importantly, you will gain a deeper understanding of what he endured, or died for, to protect you.
This is the story of a hero. Not always an admirable guy, not a very comfortable person: still a hero. Gary Prisk thrusts you into his mind so cleanly that you find yourself looking out through his eyes. It’s not a pretty sight. Yet it’s one you can’t tear your eyes from.
As close as any book can take you, Digger, Dogface, Brownjob, Grunt sucks you into the experience of war. It’s a commentary on any war, and especially one that wasn’t a war—except for those who lived it or died in it.
You’ll finish this book a different person than the one who started it. You’ll be better because of having read it.
Take a full-emersion dip into the hellhole of 1960’s Vietnam. Crawl inside the head of Lt. Edward Hardin and walk the tightrope between sanity and the surreal reality that surround and envelop him. Live with the never ending tension of waiting for the one little mistake that will end it all for you or the men you have sworn to get through today and the next day.
Endure the heat, the monsoon, the jungle rot, the insects, and the snakes. Oh yeah, and the FUO—Fever of Unknown Origin—that takes over from time to time. These were almost as bad as the attentive lunacy of those sending you on missions with little meaning and less reward.
Then close the book thanking God it wasn’t you. And recognize that you understand more about war than you wanted to know—but now realize you needed to know.