Veteran illustrator Parker presents a graphic novel about his three years in the army during the late 1960s.
After a brief family history (he was an only child born to hardworking parents in 1940s Georgia, raised mainly by his bedridden grandmother, who instilled in him a love of comic strips), the artistically inclined Parker explains how flunking out of junior college led to his getting drafted by the Army and entering the strange world of military life as a 19-year-old. Parker narrates his experiences with sly humor and self-deprecation, capturing his overwhelm and isolation in the face of extremes both physical (pushups, running, simulated combat) and psychological (rigid rules for addressing others, for the size of bites at dinner, for who can walk on the sidewalk). With a keen eye for detail, Parker captures the process of spit-shining combat boots, and with a keen ear for storytelling, he reveals the gruesome aftermath of a drunk-driving accident. Parker eventually enters officer and artillery training—more from a general competency rather than any particular skill—and these developments keep him from being deployed to active combat in Vietnam. He stumbles through a series of responsibilities like training with German soldiers and organizing a military funeral. His interest in drawing recurs, as when he’s recruited to draw naked women for the walls of a makeshift officer’s pub, but it doesn’t develop into an arc. Parker hits humorous and emotional beats via skilled cartooning (exaggerated facial expression, outsized physicality), though his linework can feel caught between simple and intricate, with the weight of some lines flattening out details and rendering figures unappealingly stiff. Parker makes a pleasant narrator of his extreme experiences, but the work doesn’t coalesce into a larger statement on war or art or self.
A collection of details that might appeal to military history buffs.