Generation Kill (41 page)

In early 2008 while HBO was completing post-production of its adaptation of Generation Kill, Corporal Josh Ray Person was among several Marines hired to work as technical advisers. Now married and living in Kansas City, where he manages a blueprint shop, Person's arrival in Los Angeles was eagerly anticipated by the actors from the HBO miniseries. They expected the wild-talking Humvee driver whose off-color commentary fills Generation Kill. Instead, they met a stolid Midwesterner, with not a lot to say. (After Generation Kill was published Person explained to me, "I did talk that way at the time, because I wasn't sleeping and I was, you know, invading a country, but that's not how I talk if I'm at home talking to my grandma.") When several actors took him out to dinner Person politely listened as they talked about their struggles to re-adjust to "civilian life" after playing Marines during the film shoot in Africa. Some told him they now really understood what PTSD must be like. After the actors left him at his hotel, Person finally had to speak up. "What's up with those actors? Are they a bunch of pussies or what? Fuck, when I came home from Iraq, all I wanted to do was go to Disneyland with my fiancee. What kind of pussy gets PTSD from acting in a movie?"

In 2006 Kocher made his fourth deployment to Iraq, this time to Ramadi. The hunt for "criminals" as he saw it, proved as dangerous as ever. In his previous tour, Kocher had lost a team member while stalking an enemy mortar team. This time he had a man in his platoon severely wounded with a bullet to the brain while raiding an insurgent safe house. Kocher later suffered broken bones, head injuries and a re-shattered ear when a truck he was driving was blown up and flipped over an embankment in an IED attack. Kocher chose to recuperate in Iraq and finish out his tour. When he came home in early 2007 he confessed he'd had his fill of war. "I'm just tired of seeing fifty-dollar bombs destroy two million dollar vehicles and kill Marines every day," he told me.

Even the hardest among them are growing tired of the war. Stinetorf, who got out in 2005, laughed when I phoned him not too long ago and reminded him of those early days in the invasion when many believed the war would'last a few months. "When we left Iraq in 2003,1 was like yeah, we did it. We're done. Never coming back."

When I first met Stinetorf in 2003 he spoke of his sister, then an undergraduate at Harvard, with amused disdain for what he saw as her empty-headed life at an Ivy League university. After returning from his second Iraq tour Stinetorf entered a community college in San Diego. After doing better at academics than he expected, Stinetorf is now choosing between colleges on the East Coast, where he plans to complete a bachelor's degree in political science. "I never thought I'd say this, but my goal is to get back to Iraq or that part of the world, either in the military or the government. Yeah, the invasion was a mistake, a giant fuck-up. But I don't think that means we can walk away from it. I can't. I guess I'm a true believer. I love this country despite all its many, many flaws. I want to do some more things that have meaning." He added. "That's what I loved about the Marines. Those guys in Bravo Two are still my best friends in the world. We had a lot of fun, and we were doing something that had meaning."

In the prologue to Generation Kill I quoted Lance Corporal Trombley comparing an ambush to playing Grand Theft Auto. The quote proved to be misleading to some. After the publication of Generation Kill, Trombley's reference to Grand Theft Auto was cited in several news stories as proof that to the young men and women serving in America's armed forces, war was no more real than playing a video game.

It struck me that such analyses had it backward. It's the American public for whom the Iraq War is often no more real than a video game. Five years into this war, I am not always confident most Americans fully appreciate the caliber of the people fighting for them, the sacrifices they have made, and the sacrifices they continue to make. After the Vietnam War ended, the onus of shame largely fell on the veterans. This time around, if shame is to be had when the Iraq conflict ends—and all indications are there will be plenty of it—the veterans are the last people in America to deserve it. When it comes to apportioning shame my vote goes to the American people who sent them to war in a surge of emotion but quickly lost the will to either win it or end it. The young troops I profiled in Generation Kill, as well as the other men and women in uniform I've encountered in combat zones throughout Iraq and Afghanistan, are among the finest people of their generation. We misuse them at our own peril.

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. Constitution allowed a reporter in its midst. Thanks to all of the men of First Recon, from Godfather 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.