May 25, 2009
In this raw and powerful memoir, veteran Smithson recounts his time as an army engineer in Iraq. As a student in suburban Albany, he joins the army after 9/11. While in Iraq, he's shot at and faces mortar attack, but he spends more time on responsibilities like methodical cleanups of roadside bomb craters—work that's as vital, if not as sexy, as actual combat. Smithson's interactions with Iraqi children and families, as much as with his fellow soldiers, drive the story. Military biography clichés—from the indoctrination of boot camp (“they break us down, build us up, break us down again, and then build us back up”) to resentment of officers among the enlisted—abound because they're no doubt true. But the real meat of the book is in Smithson's dealings with American noncombatants, from the little boy who sends care packages to the pilot who insists on upgrading him to first class and his wife and parents. Smithson avoids writing either prowar propaganda or an antimilitary polemic, providing instead a fascinating, often humorous—and occasionally devastating—account of the motivations and life of a contemporary soldier. Ages 14–up.
July 1, 2009
Grades 9-12 In this eloquent nonfiction bildungsroman, a self-described GI Joe Schmo hangs meditations about his own feelings, responses, and opinions about the Iraq War on an episodic account of basic training and a 2005 tour of duty. Despite occasional misfires (the vile, churning stomach of Iraq), his prose is strong and memorable, well endowed with lines like The Twin Towers didnt fall in Manhattan. They fell on me, and, describing how closely platoons bond, Its like being on a wrestling team, only youre more pissed off and carrying munitions. His pride at being one who ran toward the danger when so many of my generation ran away comes through clearly, but in looking back he finds reasons for volunteering that go deeper than blind patriotism. Smithson opens with memories of watching the 9/11 attacks on TV, closes with his brief but intense post-tour struggle with night terrors, and in between provides teens with plenty of food for thought about the nature and meaning of military service. Includes a small section of Smithsons black-and-white photos.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2009, American Library Association.)
Starred review from March 1, 2009
Gr 9 Up-Smithson experienced the events of 9/11 while in high school and responded by enlisting in the Army Reserve after graduation. He married his high school sweetheart before being deployed to Iraq. Once there, he worked as an equipment operator in an equipment platoon, and while mortar fire was a regular occurrence, the missions he describes were all about bulldozing berms, filling craters created by IEDs, and convoying lumber. One gruesome section describes salvaging parts from Humvees in which soldiers died. A few missions, though, were more in the line of favors to the local population than anything that helps combatants. Some of the author's most poignant passages are his descriptions of interactions with Iraqi children. Where he was expecting rock-throwing, he encountered barefoot, dirty children grateful for the water the soldiers gave them. It is these children and the villagers he met that help explain for him the purpose of the war. The book ends with Smithson's return home, his almost magical escape from night terrors, and his work with children in his own hometown. Writing proves to be his therapy for PTSD. There are mixed metaphors aplenty, crude and morbid humor, and other evidence of a young author, but it all works together to create a tough but powerful look at one man's experience.Eric Norton, McMillan Memorial Library, Wisconsin Rapids, WI
Copyright 2009 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.
July 1, 2009
"I am just a GI. Nothing special. A kid doing my job. A veritable Joe Schmo of the masses, of my generation." In this Iraq War memoir, an Army engineer takes readers from basic training to dodging explosives in the desert to returning home. He deftly re-creates his experiences, both horrifying and mundane. An eight-page insert of Smithson's personal photographs adds immediacy. Glos.
(Copyright 2009 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)