One Bullet Away: The Making of a Marine Officer
By Nathaniel Fick
Hardcover, 369 pp., 38 photos, $25.00
Houghton Mifflin, New York, New York
October 2005

Each war creates its raconteurs, but not all of them endure beyond the conflicts that allow them to initially capture an audience. Writings that transcend the headlines do so by plying themes that are at once immediate and timeless. They also focus the lens of humanity on settings that don't lend themselves to that sort of scrutiny or discrimination. With One Bullet Away Nathaniel Fick takes the literate warrior baton from James Webb and makes a credible bid to be this generation's enduring sage.

Much more than a simple dispatch from the fronts of Afghanistan and Iraq, One Bullet Away finds Nathaniel Fick reaching deep within his heart and soul, culling up the irony, frustration, humor, tragedy, and -- more than anything else -- the pathos that informs the enterprise of war. Fick's infectious sincerity is captured in the following passage dealing with his feelings on the eve of his departure for the looming war in Iraq:

I looked around at the other tables. There were people my age on dates, whispering and smiling. Older couples, comfortable and relaxed. Waitresses brushed against tables, steam rose from entrees and I was going to war. These people looked forward to Saturday, and Sunday, and the coming months and years of their lives. Mine felt as if it had ended. I didn't have a future. Trying to conjure up a mental image of myself after Iraq, I found that I couldn't. Iraq loomed like a black hole into which all the thoughts and acts and hopes and dreams of twenty-five years were being sucked. I couldn't imagine what might come out the other side.

That tenor captures the spirit of One Bullet Away, and it is what makes the book a breakout effort. Fick is smart, well bred, and highly competent in his roles as an infantry and reconnaissance platoon leader, but, like all the best leaders, he is humble. He listens more than speaks. The war is not about him, nor did he win it, and that stance is laudable in this era of neo-patriots and come-lately jingoes. In one scene his impressions regarding the long-term success of Operation Iraqi Freedom are shaped by his platoon sergeant. Fick starts the conversation by trying to ease his men's fears about what might come on the backside of the fall of Baghdad, saying, “This isn't Vietnam -- the guys we're fighting have no superpower support; no sanctuary next door.”

His platoon sergeant retorts with a sentiment that has proved prescient two-and-a-half years later: “Guerrilla wars aren't fought from sanctuaries with support from sugar mama countries. That's political scientist {BS}. They're fought from the mind. If these people don't want for themselves what we want for them, then this will be Vietnam. We'll get our pride and our credibility involved, and then we'll keep throwing money and men down the pit long after everybody else knows we're {in trouble}. We'll leave, and Iraq will be even worse than the {dung} hole it was a month ago when we kicked down the door.”

After the fall of Baghdad, the Marine recon mission shifts to one of civic affairs, and there doubts quickly creep in regarding the entropy that the invasion has created and the Americans' ability to win hearts and minds. Fick's platoon has neither the means nor the mandate to solve local problems, although his sense is that is exactly what they need to be doing to convince the Iraqis that they are better off without Saddam Hussein in power. He can see the disappointment in their eyes. He knows their sorrow will turn to anger. In the distance the drums of the war's next chapter are beating. The Army arrives to assume the watch and soon their efforts will be directed toward suicide bombers and IEDs.

But Fick strikes a balance throughout the book. He is no apologist. He writes neither from the left or the right. He is a Marine. His is not to suffer paralysis by analysis; he has missions to accomplish and men to lead and bring home alive. He questions orders; he makes mistakes; he is scared (for instance, as he fights the impulse to save himself during a mortar attack, he remembers a line he once heard that surviving war is “a million acts of cowardice”).

But overall Fick emerges as a bright shining example of the fact that this country can still produce young men capable of effectively answering the call of duty. One Bullet Away also reminds us that answering that call can get messy at times. Circumstances arise that challenge the once quixotic warfighter's hope that he'll survive the battle with his honor intact. Fick's stance in this regard is forged in an exchange with an admissions board:

After channeling all my energy into applying to graduate school, I got a phone call from an admissions officer: “Mr. Fick, we read your application and liked it very much. But a member of our committee read {imbedded correspondent} Evan Wright's story about your platoon in Rolling Stone. You're quoted as saying, ‘The bad news is, we won't get much sleep tonight; the good news is, we get to kill people.” She paused, as if waiting for me to disavow the quote. I was silent, and she went on. “We have a retired Army officer on our staff, and he warned me that there are people who enjoy killing, and they aren't nice to be around. Could you please explain your quote for me?”

“No, I cannot.”

“Well, do you really feel that way?” Her tone was earnest, almost pleading.

“You mean, will I climb your clock tower and pick people off with a hunting rifle?”

It was her turn to be silent.

“No, I will not. Do I feel compelled to explain myself to you? No, I don't.”

But the author saves his most poignant sentiments for the very last, ending the book with this:

I took sixty-five men to war and brought sixty-five home. I gave them everything I had. Together, we passed the test. Fear didn't beat us. I hope life improves for the people of Afghanistan and Iraq, but that's not why we did it. We fought for each other.

I am proud.

Embrace the wisdom of this generation's military spokesman. Read One Bullet Away.