In reading The Forever War by Dexter Filkins, most of the time I thought, simply, that this man is crazy. Sure, he is a war journalist, and his job is to go out and report in war zones. So Filkins does just that in this book. He is in Afghanistan covering the civil war before 9-11. He is up in Tora Bora a few days after America’s unsuccessful attempt to kill Bin Laden.
He is in Iraq for the American invasion and then the costly insurgency. He is with the Marines as they take back Fallujah. Bullets fly passed him. Marines are hurt or killed in horrible ways. After pages of this, it beggars belief that one person would put himself in harm’s way so consistently. He is in dangerous places, where he could be kidnapped or killed.
Filkins, no doubt, had his own motivations. And probably paid a price. What we get is without cost: reporting that is so real, so authentic, it is often difficult to read. The life and death struggles of the people Filkins reports are gut punching palpable, sad, enraging. American’s twenty-first centuries wars still drag on; Filkins was an early and unique witness in the thick of it.
He is in Iraq for the American invasion and then the costly insurgency. He is with the Marines as they take back Fallujah. Bullets fly passed him. Marines are hurt or killed in horrible ways. After pages of this, it beggars belief that one person would put himself in harm’s way so consistently. He is in dangerous places, where he could be kidnapped or killed.
Filkins, no doubt, had his own motivations. And probably paid a price. What we get is without cost: reporting that is so real, so authentic, it is often difficult to read. The life and death struggles of the people Filkins reports are gut punching palpable, sad, enraging. American’s twenty-first centuries wars still drag on; Filkins was an early and unique witness in the thick of it.
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