Lindsey recounts his experiences in Vietnam in this debut memoir.

The opening paragraph of this book takes readers through “the darkest night I have ever known,” as the author sat watch in a “deserted village” on the lookout for a Viet Cong infiltrator who had killed two United States Marines earlier in the evening. This grim anecdote sets the stage for the rest of the book, which immerses readers in the life of a young Marine in the late 1960s. A war memoir, the narrative generally avoids discussions of Lindsey’s childhood or personal life (his first marriage, from meeting his wife to their divorce, is covered in two terse sentences), maintaining a laser focus on the war and its lasting effects. The book’s first chapter covers the author’s infantry training at California’s Camp Pendleton with detailed descriptions of his rapid education in military life—from truck-driving school and crawling under barbed wire to patrolling simulated Vietnamese villages and watching graphic combat movies. By the second chapter, Lindsey has arrived in Southeast Asia. Having participated in 19 operations, the author admits that they “blended together” and that he doesn’t “remember even being informed at the time which operation started and which operation ended.” Thus, instead of highlighting overarching military strategies and following the chronology of the war, the book offers general commentary and vignettes conveying the experiences of an unathletic, skinny, nearsighted, “somewhat average guy.” While detailing harrowing moments of battle, the narrative also emphasizes the daily routines and culture of military life, including contraband inspections, interracial strife, and “the Marine Corps’ penchant for goofy humor.”

While generally avoiding commentary on the Cold War context of the war, the text does not hide the author’s disdain for anti-war protestors (“enemy sympathizers”) and the Hollywood depiction of Vietnam combatants as, in his view, trigger-happy psychopaths in movies like Platoon and Rambo. Lindsey is equally critical of government officials, who, he asserts, were “missing in action throughout our war.” While there is certainly room for a more complex discussion of the war in this book, which tends to settle on moral absolutes and avoid topics like the My Lai massacre, this is nevertheless a powerful, haunting journey into the tragedy of Vietnam. Its final chapters deal with the lasting effects of the war on Lindsey’s life, including “the flinches,” nightmares, and an emotional breakdown after watching a funny television commercial he knows those killed in action will never see. The book concludes with an epilogue recounting a return trip to Vietnam in 2000 that included a search for a Viet Cong soldier who had helped save the author’s life. An engineer by training, the author also includes ample appendix material that describes, in minute detail, the military vehicles and weapons used in the war. Barring this encyclopedic backmatter, the book’s deeply personal writing style and concise narrative make for an engaging read. Its accessibility is enhanced by the inclusion of photographs, maps, replications of primary sources, and other visual ephemera that enhance the reading experience.

A haunting, if not particularly nuanced, war memoir and reminder of Vietnam’s tragic legacy.