UNCERTAIN GROUND

Marine Corps veteran and acclaimed writer Klay delivers a closely observed set of essays on an age of endless war.

America’s military adventures around the world, writes the author, take place “at such a low ebb that most Americans can pretend it isn’t happening.” When Americans are killed, some ears perk up. If it’s America’s allies—e.g., the interpreters who negotiated between English and Pashto speakers—not so much. Such people, along with immigrants who arrived in the U.S. and then served in the military only to be deported after their discharge, are the focus of several of the essays, speaking to the subtitle. Klay, the National Book Award winner for Redeployment, ranges widely. He is fascinated, for example, by the support among his comrades for Donald Trump, largely because he promised to keep them at home and far from the front line. It didn’t work out that way, but Trump was undeniably more open than Obama about his intentions. In 2015, Obama noted, inaccurately, that “we’ve ended two wars,” which was news to those on active duty. “No wonder our troops were having difficulty articulating why they were fighting,” writes Klay. “Their commander in chief couldn’t even bring himself to admit that we were still at war.” If your central mission is not to defeat a nebulous enemy but simply keep yourself alive, then “it’s not the Taliban or al-Qaeda or ISIS that’s trying to kill you, it’s America.” Klay’s incisive, grunt’s-eye perspective is too little heard or heeded. His topics take on larger issues, but they almost always return to that central point of view—whether it be the monasticism of military life (“Like a novice monk, I was given new clothing, new standards of dress, a new haircut, as well as a distinct role within a broader community”), the militarization of the culture, or citizens’ easy access to military-grade weapons.

A compelling critique of civilian foibles by a skilled writer well versed in carrying out civilian wishes in the field.