"We're bait. And for the first time since my arrival
in-country, I feel completely dispensable. Countless other times I have
felt worthless and unimportant, but never completely dispensable".

I've always felt that it takes a certain type of person to serve in the armed forces; the fear of death has deterred me from ever showing interest in such a lifestyle. A woman in my building has a son who is home from Iraq after a two year tour. In the elevator one afternoon, she filled me in on her little secret to coping with the stress of being a parent of a marine. "As long as there's liquor on the shelf, I can sleep at night."

I remember that afternoon and my first thought was what kind of idiot would put their life in danger for a country that, in my opinion, has such unclear intentions in the Middle East? Why would one throw their life away to protect a country that can't even rebuild itself after a natural disaster that happened some four years ago? Then I thought, what kind of person would make their parents miserable from worrying about their safety like that? I would never be able to imagine my sleepless mother crying every night, awaiting my safe return to the states.

For Swofford, escaping his family life was certainly a part of his decision to enlist: his father, a philanderer, his mother sighing away, his sister in her padded room, and his brother, the imaginary player of the year. I then realized that the woman in my building seems like a kook, and perhaps that's the reason he fled the country - piece of mind. But does one find that in the military? I think so. But not the way one would hope. I believe you find someone else's piece of mind, another's opinion, belief system and thoughts. You are a tire and the armed forces the air that pumps you up and ultimately deflates you, lacerated by post-traumatic stress or the list of hospital bills the miliraty's insurance plan was supposed to cover.

That being understood, why would a fresh-faced American suit up for a machine that, as Swofford put it, makes you feel worthless, dispensable? Maybe it's patriotism. Maybe it's insanity. Or maybe, it's the empty bottle of liquor on the shelf.