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Fields of Fire
They each had their reasons for being a soldier.
They each had their illusions. Goodrich came from Harvard. Snake got the tattoo—Death Before Dishonor—before he got the uniform. And Hodges was haunted by the ghosts of family heroes.
They were three young men from different worlds plunged into a white-hot, murderous realm of jungle warfare as it was fought by one Marine platoon in the An Hoa Basin, 1969. They had no way of knowing what awaited them. Nothing could have prepared them for the madness to come. And in the heat and horror of battle they took on new identities, took on each other, and were each reborn in fields of fire . . .
Fields of Fire is James Webb's classic, searing novel of the Vietnam War, a novel of poetic power, razor-sharp observation, and agonizing human truths seen through the prism of nonstop combat. Weaving together a cast of vivid characters, Fields of Fire captures the journey of unformed men through a man-made hell—until each man finds his fate.
They each had their illusions. Goodrich came from Harvard. Snake got the tattoo—Death Before Dishonor—before he got the uniform. And Hodges was haunted by the ghosts of family heroes.
They were three young men from different worlds plunged into a white-hot, murderous realm of jungle warfare as it was fought by one Marine platoon in the An Hoa Basin, 1969. They had no way of knowing what awaited them. Nothing could have prepared them for the madness to come. And in the heat and horror of battle they took on new identities, took on each other, and were each reborn in fields of fire . . .
Fields of Fire is James Webb's classic, searing novel of the Vietnam War, a novel of poetic power, razor-sharp observation, and agonizing human truths seen through the prism of nonstop combat. Weaving together a cast of vivid characters, Fields of Fire captures the journey of unformed men through a man-made hell—until each man finds his fate.
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First published January 1, 1978
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About the author
James Webb
95 books125 followersJames Henry "Jim" Webb, Jr. is an American politician and author. He has served as a United States Senator from Virginia, Secretary of the Navy, Assistant Secretary of Defense for Reserve Affairs, Counsel for the United States House Committee on Veterans' Affairs and is a decorated Marine Corps officer.
Outside of working in government, Webb is also an Emmy Award winning journalist, filmmaker, and author of ten books. He taught literature at the United States Naval Academy and was a Fellow at the Harvard Institute of Politics. As a member of the Democratic Party, Webb announced on November 19, 2014, that he was forming an exploratory committee to evaluate a run for President of the United States in 2016. On July 2, 2015, he announced that he would be joining the race for the Democratic nomination for president, but stepped down from running in the primaries on October 20, 2015, stating that he was "not comfortable" with many political positions from the party's leadership.
In 2020, Webb was named the first distinguished fellow of University of Notre Dame's International Security Center.
Senator Webb is also an author of many books, stating that "I've written for a living all my life, so writing is as much a part of me as working out."
Outside of working in government, Webb is also an Emmy Award winning journalist, filmmaker, and author of ten books. He taught literature at the United States Naval Academy and was a Fellow at the Harvard Institute of Politics. As a member of the Democratic Party, Webb announced on November 19, 2014, that he was forming an exploratory committee to evaluate a run for President of the United States in 2016. On July 2, 2015, he announced that he would be joining the race for the Democratic nomination for president, but stepped down from running in the primaries on October 20, 2015, stating that he was "not comfortable" with many political positions from the party's leadership.
In 2020, Webb was named the first distinguished fellow of University of Notre Dame's International Security Center.
Senator Webb is also an author of many books, stating that "I've written for a living all my life, so writing is as much a part of me as working out."
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November 10, 2021
Kids
About a third into Fields of Fire, it hits you: all these characters are children, big children, and children with guns but children nevertheless. The influence of Lord of the Flies is unmistakeable. The training of these Marines is aimed at creating not functioning adults but perfectly behaved children who are respectful and obedient, who speak only when spoken to, and who continuously grumble about taking revenge on their elders, but only among themselves. What they do on their own time is their business; the adults would rather not know.
The sociological glue which keeps them functional is not an ethos of foxhole camaraderie but the rules of the unsupervised playground. They are members of a gang. The first rule of gang membership is that only the gang matters. To be excluded from the playground gang means merely social isolation in the playground. Here it means injury and death. The opinion of other gang members about oneself is the crucial determinant of behaviour, - more important than fear of death, the need for shelter and food, and inhibitions about ruthless homicide.
The details of their existence emphasise their infantile status. They all receive nicknames upon arrival in combat. Not Stinky, Curly, or Four Eyes mocking their physical features but Wild Man, Snake, and Psycho reflecting their relative states of derangement. In addition to the usefulness of these names as a constant reminder of gang membership, they also serve paradoxically as a mechanism for dealing with the loss of comrades through injury and death since the names are transferable to replacements as required.
Like most boys, the Marines are greatly impressed by technology. The sights, sounds and smells of heavy artillery, fast aircraft, and automatic rifles (ours not theirs) are thrilling. The frustrations of pursuing an elusive enemy in unbearable physical conditions are mitigated by periodic displays which don’t have much effect on the enemy but momentarily boost morale. The standard response to these lethal pyrotechnic shows is “Get some!,” said with the enthusiasm of a ten year old pulling the wings off flies after receiving a beating from his father.
And this abuse is often very much what they had become accustomed to as young people. Many feel at home with it even as they resent it. Some because they have been brought up on the streets with violence as the norm. Others because they have been indoctrinated into a tradition of violent patriotism. Others because they naively allowed themselves to be manipulated by ‘the system.’ Their resentment is encouraged by the absent adults who understand that the Marines’ aggressiveness will be proportionate to their dissatisfaction.
These Marines are indeed “Zombie people, regurgitated by the gluttonous monster.” They have been ‘processed’ into children who are constantly on the edge of puerile rebellion. That they rarely go over that edge and kill their military masters is a tribute to the refinement of their training. Children are lost without their parents. Without parental direction and encouragement, they become a mob not a gang. And mobs are dangerous for their members as well as for everyone else. As I said: Lord of the Flies comes to mind.
The theme common to almost all war fiction, especially that of the American war in Vietnam, is resentment for lost youth. Some are resentful for being forced to go. Others for naively believing in the reasons they went voluntarily. Others for the lifelong guilt they suffer for the things they had to do. The only way, it seems, to assuage this resentment is to subject following generations to the same conditions they endured. Pitiful but true. What a species we are.
Postscript: Another GR contributor alerted me to the poetry of Randall Jarrell. Here is his poem ‘Losses,’ which, I think captures the reality of boys in war:
It was not dying: everybody died.
It was not dying: we had died before
In the routine crashes-- and our fields
Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks,
And the rates rose, all because of us.
We died on the wrong page of the almanac,
Scattered on mountains fifty miles away;
Diving on haystacks, fighting with a friend,
We blazed up on the lines we never saw.
We died like aunts or pets or foreigners.
(When we left high school nothing else had died
For us to figure we had died like.)
In our new planes, with our new crews, we bombed
The ranges by the desert or the shore,
Fired at towed targets, waited for our scores--
And turned into replacements and woke up
One morning, over England, operational.
It wasn't different: but if we died
It was not an accident but a mistake
(But an easy one for anyone to make.)
We read our mail and counted up our missions--
In bombers named for girls, we burned
The cities we had learned about in school--
Till our lives wore out; our bodies lay among
The people we had killed and never seen.
When we lasted long enough they gave us medals;
When we died they said, 'Our casualties were low.'
They said, 'Here are the maps'; we burned the cities.
It was not dying --no, not ever dying;
But the night I died I dreamed that I was dead,
And the cities said to me: 'Why are you dying?
We are satisfied, if you are; but why did I die?
About a third into Fields of Fire, it hits you: all these characters are children, big children, and children with guns but children nevertheless. The influence of Lord of the Flies is unmistakeable. The training of these Marines is aimed at creating not functioning adults but perfectly behaved children who are respectful and obedient, who speak only when spoken to, and who continuously grumble about taking revenge on their elders, but only among themselves. What they do on their own time is their business; the adults would rather not know.
The sociological glue which keeps them functional is not an ethos of foxhole camaraderie but the rules of the unsupervised playground. They are members of a gang. The first rule of gang membership is that only the gang matters. To be excluded from the playground gang means merely social isolation in the playground. Here it means injury and death. The opinion of other gang members about oneself is the crucial determinant of behaviour, - more important than fear of death, the need for shelter and food, and inhibitions about ruthless homicide.
The details of their existence emphasise their infantile status. They all receive nicknames upon arrival in combat. Not Stinky, Curly, or Four Eyes mocking their physical features but Wild Man, Snake, and Psycho reflecting their relative states of derangement. In addition to the usefulness of these names as a constant reminder of gang membership, they also serve paradoxically as a mechanism for dealing with the loss of comrades through injury and death since the names are transferable to replacements as required.
Like most boys, the Marines are greatly impressed by technology. The sights, sounds and smells of heavy artillery, fast aircraft, and automatic rifles (ours not theirs) are thrilling. The frustrations of pursuing an elusive enemy in unbearable physical conditions are mitigated by periodic displays which don’t have much effect on the enemy but momentarily boost morale. The standard response to these lethal pyrotechnic shows is “Get some!,” said with the enthusiasm of a ten year old pulling the wings off flies after receiving a beating from his father.
And this abuse is often very much what they had become accustomed to as young people. Many feel at home with it even as they resent it. Some because they have been brought up on the streets with violence as the norm. Others because they have been indoctrinated into a tradition of violent patriotism. Others because they naively allowed themselves to be manipulated by ‘the system.’ Their resentment is encouraged by the absent adults who understand that the Marines’ aggressiveness will be proportionate to their dissatisfaction.
These Marines are indeed “Zombie people, regurgitated by the gluttonous monster.” They have been ‘processed’ into children who are constantly on the edge of puerile rebellion. That they rarely go over that edge and kill their military masters is a tribute to the refinement of their training. Children are lost without their parents. Without parental direction and encouragement, they become a mob not a gang. And mobs are dangerous for their members as well as for everyone else. As I said: Lord of the Flies comes to mind.
The theme common to almost all war fiction, especially that of the American war in Vietnam, is resentment for lost youth. Some are resentful for being forced to go. Others for naively believing in the reasons they went voluntarily. Others for the lifelong guilt they suffer for the things they had to do. The only way, it seems, to assuage this resentment is to subject following generations to the same conditions they endured. Pitiful but true. What a species we are.
Postscript: Another GR contributor alerted me to the poetry of Randall Jarrell. Here is his poem ‘Losses,’ which, I think captures the reality of boys in war:
It was not dying: everybody died.
It was not dying: we had died before
In the routine crashes-- and our fields
Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks,
And the rates rose, all because of us.
We died on the wrong page of the almanac,
Scattered on mountains fifty miles away;
Diving on haystacks, fighting with a friend,
We blazed up on the lines we never saw.
We died like aunts or pets or foreigners.
(When we left high school nothing else had died
For us to figure we had died like.)
In our new planes, with our new crews, we bombed
The ranges by the desert or the shore,
Fired at towed targets, waited for our scores--
And turned into replacements and woke up
One morning, over England, operational.
It wasn't different: but if we died
It was not an accident but a mistake
(But an easy one for anyone to make.)
We read our mail and counted up our missions--
In bombers named for girls, we burned
The cities we had learned about in school--
Till our lives wore out; our bodies lay among
The people we had killed and never seen.
When we lasted long enough they gave us medals;
When we died they said, 'Our casualties were low.'
They said, 'Here are the maps'; we burned the cities.
It was not dying --no, not ever dying;
But the night I died I dreamed that I was dead,
And the cities said to me: 'Why are you dying?
We are satisfied, if you are; but why did I die?
May 28, 2017
James Webb's intense novel about Vietnam, Fields of Fire was mentioned in Rachel Maddow's Drift and it was this recommendation that made me want to read it. My step-father (dead almost 10 years now due to a heart attack) survived 3 tours in 'Nam, but remained a racist SOB after his return. I do recall his recurrent nightmares - similar to those of Goodrich in the book in fact: a babysan on the horizon, not sure if she is hiding a threat or innocently saying hello. This image epitomises the depiction of the war in this book. The moral ambiguity of this conflict escalated by Johnson and sending tens of thousands of young Americans into the meat grinder. Inflaming public sentiment against war and imperialism. Mixing social groups in the theatre of blood, bullets, and bombs. All of this is described in beautiful, devastating detail by Webb.
Lieutenant Hodges, last in a long line of warriors going back to the his namesake Robert E Lee's army:
"He held his helmet on his knees and cupped a cigarette inside it, lighting it. Not supposed to, but screw it. It's three o'clock. The goners are all in bed. Nonetheless, he continued to cup it as he smoked. There's always that chance. One sniper round can do it. Every now and then it happens." (p. 225)
William "Senator" Goodrich, Harvard student who signs up for more than he asked for and buffeted on all sides by forced beyond his control:
"A violent, thunder less noon rain scudded across a blue sky and soaked them thoroughly, even as the untroubled blue peeked around its edges. Then it suddenly abated, leaving them inside a thin, steamy mist. In minutes the resupply helicopter powered through the mist, driving it away with rotor wash, whipping the mist as winter wind drives chimney smoke. And they cringed, naked on the terraced hillside, feeling new horizontal rain that was driven by the helicopter blades, lifting from long leaves of greening sawgrass." (p. 256).
Ronnie "Snake" [no last name given], arguably the most heroic character in the book, always fatally trying to help his teammates:
"Snake dragged Marsten down the hill. Marsten screamed each time Snake jerked the poncho. Snake reached his hold again and called for the Doc. No Doc. He screamed again. Still no Doc. He despaired of Doc and pulled the lone battle dressing off of his own helmet, hatting Marsten for leaving his up the hill. He reached in and felt the hole. Marsten screamed as if in torture when Snake's fingers slid along the slick wet inside of it." (p. 62).
No detail is spared: all the dirty politics, the sketchy orders, the pointless suicide missions, the boredom followed by intense firefighting illuminates the pages of this riveting testimony to the courage of fighting Marines without closing its eyes on the atrocities that were committed on both sides. The battles are so real that you feel deafened by the bombing, you feel trepidatious when walking thinking of the anti-personnel mines, you smell the phosphorous and napalm in the air.
James Webb's book has the feeling of authenticity without succumbing to bland condemnation or justification. Its narrative technique of passages of intense warfare punctuated by flashbacks to the pre-war lives of the various protagonists and their comrades in arms, is convincing and compelling. This is truly an important read for those who wish to look at modern warfare from an unadulterated, uncensored and apolitical standpoint. It is a monument and deserves wide readership.
Lieutenant Hodges, last in a long line of warriors going back to the his namesake Robert E Lee's army:
"He held his helmet on his knees and cupped a cigarette inside it, lighting it. Not supposed to, but screw it. It's three o'clock. The goners are all in bed. Nonetheless, he continued to cup it as he smoked. There's always that chance. One sniper round can do it. Every now and then it happens." (p. 225)
William "Senator" Goodrich, Harvard student who signs up for more than he asked for and buffeted on all sides by forced beyond his control:
"A violent, thunder less noon rain scudded across a blue sky and soaked them thoroughly, even as the untroubled blue peeked around its edges. Then it suddenly abated, leaving them inside a thin, steamy mist. In minutes the resupply helicopter powered through the mist, driving it away with rotor wash, whipping the mist as winter wind drives chimney smoke. And they cringed, naked on the terraced hillside, feeling new horizontal rain that was driven by the helicopter blades, lifting from long leaves of greening sawgrass." (p. 256).
Ronnie "Snake" [no last name given], arguably the most heroic character in the book, always fatally trying to help his teammates:
"Snake dragged Marsten down the hill. Marsten screamed each time Snake jerked the poncho. Snake reached his hold again and called for the Doc. No Doc. He screamed again. Still no Doc. He despaired of Doc and pulled the lone battle dressing off of his own helmet, hatting Marsten for leaving his up the hill. He reached in and felt the hole. Marsten screamed as if in torture when Snake's fingers slid along the slick wet inside of it." (p. 62).
No detail is spared: all the dirty politics, the sketchy orders, the pointless suicide missions, the boredom followed by intense firefighting illuminates the pages of this riveting testimony to the courage of fighting Marines without closing its eyes on the atrocities that were committed on both sides. The battles are so real that you feel deafened by the bombing, you feel trepidatious when walking thinking of the anti-personnel mines, you smell the phosphorous and napalm in the air.
James Webb's book has the feeling of authenticity without succumbing to bland condemnation or justification. Its narrative technique of passages of intense warfare punctuated by flashbacks to the pre-war lives of the various protagonists and their comrades in arms, is convincing and compelling. This is truly an important read for those who wish to look at modern warfare from an unadulterated, uncensored and apolitical standpoint. It is a monument and deserves wide readership.
February 6, 2012
My father was a radio operator in Vietnam, '69-'70. He saw things that are still beyond my realm of understanding.
A few Christmases ago, he played a recording he had of a firefight he was in for my brothers and me. It was harrowing. What he told us after he were through with this recording was that his CO, James Webb, had written a book about this very firefight and other portions of the Vietnam War in a book called Fields of Fire.
Three days later, just before one of my brothers was set to leave, my father presented all of us with this book. I have read many Vietnam novels; the topic is one of fascination and horror for me.
While I read this book, the tape recording of the firefight was its soundtrack. It moved me to the point of tears sometimes. All I could think about was an eighteen year old Marine caught in this hellish world and knowing he still had X amount of days left before he was able to go home, if he was fortunate enough to make it home.
And let me be the first to say, this book is more than just a war novel. It really looks at the Vietnam War from the perspective of some of the soldiers that fought in it. Poor or rich. Volunteer or draftee. It even gives some extremely great insight into the psychology of the Vietnamese. There are parts that are graphic. But the violence is never over-the-top or there for purposes of shock. I will never ever truly understand what my father experienced, but this book brought me closer to him.
HIGHEST POSSIBLE RECOMMENDTION
A few Christmases ago, he played a recording he had of a firefight he was in for my brothers and me. It was harrowing. What he told us after he were through with this recording was that his CO, James Webb, had written a book about this very firefight and other portions of the Vietnam War in a book called Fields of Fire.
Three days later, just before one of my brothers was set to leave, my father presented all of us with this book. I have read many Vietnam novels; the topic is one of fascination and horror for me.
While I read this book, the tape recording of the firefight was its soundtrack. It moved me to the point of tears sometimes. All I could think about was an eighteen year old Marine caught in this hellish world and knowing he still had X amount of days left before he was able to go home, if he was fortunate enough to make it home.
And let me be the first to say, this book is more than just a war novel. It really looks at the Vietnam War from the perspective of some of the soldiers that fought in it. Poor or rich. Volunteer or draftee. It even gives some extremely great insight into the psychology of the Vietnamese. There are parts that are graphic. But the violence is never over-the-top or there for purposes of shock. I will never ever truly understand what my father experienced, but this book brought me closer to him.
HIGHEST POSSIBLE RECOMMENDTION
December 7, 2019
I just finished listening to this in the Audible format after I first read the book 9 years ago. As I listen to it it seemed like the first time I had heard much of it. I guess my memory didn’t hold many of the details over nine years. But this is a book that you should read if you want to have Some understanding of Vietnam. Vietnam was my war. I didn’t go. But that didn’t make it any less my war. I have read a lot of books about Vietnam but not so many recently. As I finish this book I realize that the author eventually was elected as a senator from the state of Virginia. He served one term of six years and decided that was enough. It is amazing to me that someone who shared his insights about the war in this book could actually have been elected to the Senate. The end of the book probably sums it up. This war really fucked up a lot of people. And yet he couldn’t really identify with the kids back home chanting Ho Chi Minh is going to win. He couldn’t go that far. This book describes some of the people who went to Vietnam and committed some of the atrocities that happened in war. The book explains who they were before they went across the ocean and who they became and quite often how they died. It is a stunning work.
.............................
This book was published 32 years ago and this is the first time I have read it. James Webb is one of my U.S. Senators so I thought I would read some of the books he has written and found Fields of Fire. I avoided the draft to Vietnam although I was 1-A for a nervous month or so before my first son was born and provided me with an exemption. If you went through anything in the Vietnam era like that, you will probably find yourself somewhere in this book. This book is intense. For me at least.
But first I want to make a short detour. There is a good deal of macho man here. Early in the book one of the heroes “date rapes” a young Okinawan woman. This was before the days of “no means no.” I wrote this in my first status; the incident is on page 36.
Some would probably say that this is just character development and does not have to bear any relationship to the attitude of the author. But this idea of “admitting to his attractiveness” comes from the woman herself not the perp. This idea of the woman wanting or agreeing to rape is bullshit. That Webb puts this thought in the woman character's mind makes a big difference in my mind.
Now at the end of the book they are talking about marriage based on their relationship of several days. I guess you would have to believe at love at first sight. Or maybe just remember that this is a novel and a “love” relationship is an essential ingredient. This whole relationship bothers me because of its starting point. That means I can’t stand it and reserve my right to overreact. Then I remember that during Webb’s campaign for the Senate the opposition said that he didn’t treat women very well in this book and that said something about his character. That was probably categorized as mudslinging. Webb is a Democrat and the slinger was a Republican. I voted for Webb, and would again. But, now that I have read The Book, I wonder if I might not agree with the criticism but forgive Mr. Webb since this book was written in another era. Is that a fair thing to do? Anyone else like to chime in?
Now that I have that behind me, let me actually say a little bit about the book. I was pulled into the book. That did not happen to me with War or Matterhorn. There are many lost arms, legs and lives; you will read about them with more detail than you may like. This is a vivid book. It has mud and blood and crud. I would be Mark (who fled to Canada) or Goodrich (a Harvard student who enlists) and little bits of a few others, including the guys who were organizing the protest demonstration at the end of the book. I would have been the one chanting, “Hey, hey, LBJ. How many kids did you kill today?” No, that is not the chant in the book but that would be more my speed than “Ho, Ho, Ho Chi Min. The NLF is going to win!” which was more than a little beyond even my ability to be a leftwing traitor.
Is Vietnam far enough into the past that we could fairly call this historical fiction? People who were there say that this book captures their true experiences. It is so hard for me to believe that anyone would voluntarily go through something like this. It is suggested that a man who experienced something like this book describes could never fit into the normal world again. So he would become a lifer in the Marines.
If you are tracking down must read war books, don’t miss this one! For me, it’s on to Dispatches which I understand is another must read war book.
.............................
This book was published 32 years ago and this is the first time I have read it. James Webb is one of my U.S. Senators so I thought I would read some of the books he has written and found Fields of Fire. I avoided the draft to Vietnam although I was 1-A for a nervous month or so before my first son was born and provided me with an exemption. If you went through anything in the Vietnam era like that, you will probably find yourself somewhere in this book. This book is intense. For me at least.
But first I want to make a short detour. There is a good deal of macho man here. Early in the book one of the heroes “date rapes” a young Okinawan woman. This was before the days of “no means no.” I wrote this in my first status; the incident is on page 36.
Our macho, macho marine forces himself on an Okinawan girl. He is going to Vietnam in three days. "She kissed him back, a portion of her innocence crumbling with great remorse, admitting his attractiveness." Date rape and she wanted it, right, Mr. Webb. What false stereotype is this?
Some would probably say that this is just character development and does not have to bear any relationship to the attitude of the author. But this idea of “admitting to his attractiveness” comes from the woman herself not the perp. This idea of the woman wanting or agreeing to rape is bullshit. That Webb puts this thought in the woman character's mind makes a big difference in my mind.
Now at the end of the book they are talking about marriage based on their relationship of several days. I guess you would have to believe at love at first sight. Or maybe just remember that this is a novel and a “love” relationship is an essential ingredient. This whole relationship bothers me because of its starting point. That means I can’t stand it and reserve my right to overreact. Then I remember that during Webb’s campaign for the Senate the opposition said that he didn’t treat women very well in this book and that said something about his character. That was probably categorized as mudslinging. Webb is a Democrat and the slinger was a Republican. I voted for Webb, and would again. But, now that I have read The Book, I wonder if I might not agree with the criticism but forgive Mr. Webb since this book was written in another era. Is that a fair thing to do? Anyone else like to chime in?
Now that I have that behind me, let me actually say a little bit about the book. I was pulled into the book. That did not happen to me with War or Matterhorn. There are many lost arms, legs and lives; you will read about them with more detail than you may like. This is a vivid book. It has mud and blood and crud. I would be Mark (who fled to Canada) or Goodrich (a Harvard student who enlists) and little bits of a few others, including the guys who were organizing the protest demonstration at the end of the book. I would have been the one chanting, “Hey, hey, LBJ. How many kids did you kill today?” No, that is not the chant in the book but that would be more my speed than “Ho, Ho, Ho Chi Min. The NLF is going to win!” which was more than a little beyond even my ability to be a leftwing traitor.
Is Vietnam far enough into the past that we could fairly call this historical fiction? People who were there say that this book captures their true experiences. It is so hard for me to believe that anyone would voluntarily go through something like this. It is suggested that a man who experienced something like this book describes could never fit into the normal world again. So he would become a lifer in the Marines.
If you are tracking down must read war books, don’t miss this one! For me, it’s on to Dispatches which I understand is another must read war book.
September 30, 2009
this is one of my all time favorite vietnam war books... which sounds a little wrong to say, but every time i read it ( ive read it 3 times now) i become so engrossed in the characters that i feel as though im actually there.... which is kinda of scary when you think about it.
definitely worth a read, particularly if you have a relative who is a vietnam vet
definitely worth a read, particularly if you have a relative who is a vietnam vet
August 10, 2016
I think this is a powerful novel and although I'm certainly no expert, it seems to do an excellent job capturing the horror of the Vietnam War, the conflicting emotions of many who fought in it, the terrible moral dilemmas servicemen faced when confronting the enemy, and some of the ugliness that greeted them when they got back home. Jim Webb, who was a much-decorated Marine and published it in 1978, went on to have an extremely distinguished career in government and politics. I have a lot of admiration for him.
That said, I didn't enjoy reading it. The subject matter is sordid and repulsive. Everything about the novel made me feel slimy and nauseous and it was a relief to finish it. Now I'm going to give it away.
August 10, 2009
Probably expresses my feelings upon returning from Vietnam better than almost any other book I've read.
December 29, 2009
Jim Webb, former USNA alum, Marine officer, former SECNAV and current Senator from VA. Taught English at USNA. Excellent account of small unit leadership in Vietnam.
August 6, 2016
I took my sweet time getting around to reading this famous Vietnam War novel ... 38 years, in fact. Vietnam was huge in my life, though like many other young men of my generation I didn't go. I had a deferment. I protested while other young men my age fought. I have always felt guilty about that. I think most of us ... the draft dodgers, the lucky ones with deferments ... came to feel that way, some sooner, some later. Over time, we came to admire those who answered what they felt to be the call of duty.
I use the word "duty" intentionally, because James Webb exemplifies it, both in his novel and his career in government and politics. I met the man in Washington DC in the 1980s. He was a deputy secretary of defense and I was an Air Force major sent to brief him on a readiness program my command was developing. He radiated duty. He was the kind of man words like "principle" and "probity" and "rectitude" were invented for. At the time I knew he had been a Marine officer in Vietnam and that he had been wounded there. I did not know about his novel, but when I got back to headquarters everyone told me about the book.
Huh. This review is turning out to be more about me than about the book. Funny how that happens when Vietnam, and having not served there, looms so large in one's life.
Fields of Fire is as gritty and realistic as it gets, from shitting in catholes to ringworm and intestinal parasites to being pinned down by relentless machine gun fire from a tree line on the edge of a rice paddy. It's hard today to read of gooks and VC and starving villagers, but that is how it was and Webb never flinched from it. It's hard to read of fragging, but that was part of it too. It's hard to read of young marines becoming so inured to war and to the Vietnamese they were nominally sent to assist that they would strip a dead girl naked just to see her pussy. But that too is how it was, and Webb includes it all. It is almost unbelievably intense; one fire fight after another, dead comrades left and right; but that too is how it was, and Webb captures it all.
Webb succumbs to preachiness in one final chapter, when the college boy Goodrich comes home ... minus the leg he lost in a firefight that resulted from his own carelessness and which cost the lives of the best men in his platoon ... and Goodrich's father speaks for James Webb (I think), lecturing about duty, but this is a mere page in what is otherwise the most intense novel of ground warfare I have ever read.
This book. It's like The Call of the Wild, a book that should be in every young man's library. It's the seminal novel of the Vietnam war. Shame on me for putting the experience off for so many years, and yes, "experience" is the word I meant to use. Fields of Fire is to be experienced, not merely read.
I use the word "duty" intentionally, because James Webb exemplifies it, both in his novel and his career in government and politics. I met the man in Washington DC in the 1980s. He was a deputy secretary of defense and I was an Air Force major sent to brief him on a readiness program my command was developing. He radiated duty. He was the kind of man words like "principle" and "probity" and "rectitude" were invented for. At the time I knew he had been a Marine officer in Vietnam and that he had been wounded there. I did not know about his novel, but when I got back to headquarters everyone told me about the book.
Huh. This review is turning out to be more about me than about the book. Funny how that happens when Vietnam, and having not served there, looms so large in one's life.
Fields of Fire is as gritty and realistic as it gets, from shitting in catholes to ringworm and intestinal parasites to being pinned down by relentless machine gun fire from a tree line on the edge of a rice paddy. It's hard today to read of gooks and VC and starving villagers, but that is how it was and Webb never flinched from it. It's hard to read of fragging, but that was part of it too. It's hard to read of young marines becoming so inured to war and to the Vietnamese they were nominally sent to assist that they would strip a dead girl naked just to see her pussy. But that too is how it was, and Webb includes it all. It is almost unbelievably intense; one fire fight after another, dead comrades left and right; but that too is how it was, and Webb captures it all.
Webb succumbs to preachiness in one final chapter, when the college boy Goodrich comes home ... minus the leg he lost in a firefight that resulted from his own carelessness and which cost the lives of the best men in his platoon ... and Goodrich's father speaks for James Webb (I think), lecturing about duty, but this is a mere page in what is otherwise the most intense novel of ground warfare I have ever read.
This book. It's like The Call of the Wild, a book that should be in every young man's library. It's the seminal novel of the Vietnam war. Shame on me for putting the experience off for so many years, and yes, "experience" is the word I meant to use. Fields of Fire is to be experienced, not merely read.
February 6, 2010
James Webb was one of the most decorated U.S. Marines that served in the Vietnam war and his experience brings brutal authenticity to his well crafted novel. Webb has gone on to serve as Secretary of the Navy and is currently a U.S. Senator from Virginia. None of that takes away from the power of this novel of war.
March 7, 2007
Highly influential in my decision to join the Marine Corps. A tale about Vietnam, but really, a story about society's estrangement from a war and the people left behind to fight it.
Jim Webb (D, VA) was one of the war's most decorated Marines (Navy Cross, Silver Star, Bronze Star with Oak Leaf Cluster and Valor Device, Purple Heart with Oak Leaf Cluster) and is now serving as the junior senator from Virginia.
Jim Webb (D, VA) was one of the war's most decorated Marines (Navy Cross, Silver Star, Bronze Star with Oak Leaf Cluster and Valor Device, Purple Heart with Oak Leaf Cluster) and is now serving as the junior senator from Virginia.
September 10, 2022
Reminds me of the "Platoon" movie & "Chickenhawk" book.
April 2, 2020
Not as poignant as The Things They Carried or Matterhorn, but the novel delivers an original final message: if you weren’t in the war, you haven’t earned the right to criticize the soldiers.
February 10, 2017
Never too proud to go for the cheap joke, I'll start by saying this is the best book so far by anyone who has formed a 2016 US Presidential campaign exploratory committee. But it is – seriously – an extremely good novel. It should probably be forced on all of those who seem to rise up once a generation of so for the purpose of needlessly sending somebody else's children into harm's way while they sit safely at home. It's damn unpleasant to read – just like war was, and is, damn unpleasant to live through.
It's obviously a war novel, but its politics – like Webb's – are difficult to fit into the traditional categories. (Given the traditional alternatives today, I guess that's a compliment.) There are the standard villains of the US conservative viewpoint: The spoiled, rude, hypocritical campus trust-fund radicals, for example. Standard conservative heroes are on display too: As a Yankee, the seemingly-unavoidable worship of Robert E. Lee (here put into the mouth and head of the character who is the closest thing to the author's stand-in) always makes me want to grind my teeth, however Webb's style is powerful enough to make such obvious wrong-headedness believable and sympathetic, if not actually reasonable. But Webb is also savvy enough to know that there are also villains to be found with patriotism on their lips, and this type of character makes an appearance, as well as the paperpushers, careerists, leaders from the rear, and uniformed pocket-liners who inevitably evidence themselves just far away enough from the field of battle.
It seems unlikely that anyone who can write as clearly and plainly as Webb will be able to endure the insanity-inducting process of a presidential campaign, especially pitted against the entrenched interests of the two dynasties who are responsible for the situation we find ourselves in. I just don't think he'll be able to speak for months on end in the platitudes necessary to bring a campaign to a successful conclusion. But I hope that I'm wrong – we should be electing Presidents because they've done something worthwhile (like writing this book), instead because their husband, father, or brother was someone who had the job before.
All of this is more about US politics than the book – sorry. It's a good book. Read it.
It's obviously a war novel, but its politics – like Webb's – are difficult to fit into the traditional categories. (Given the traditional alternatives today, I guess that's a compliment.) There are the standard villains of the US conservative viewpoint: The spoiled, rude, hypocritical campus trust-fund radicals, for example. Standard conservative heroes are on display too: As a Yankee, the seemingly-unavoidable worship of Robert E. Lee (here put into the mouth and head of the character who is the closest thing to the author's stand-in) always makes me want to grind my teeth, however Webb's style is powerful enough to make such obvious wrong-headedness believable and sympathetic, if not actually reasonable. But Webb is also savvy enough to know that there are also villains to be found with patriotism on their lips, and this type of character makes an appearance, as well as the paperpushers, careerists, leaders from the rear, and uniformed pocket-liners who inevitably evidence themselves just far away enough from the field of battle.
It seems unlikely that anyone who can write as clearly and plainly as Webb will be able to endure the insanity-inducting process of a presidential campaign, especially pitted against the entrenched interests of the two dynasties who are responsible for the situation we find ourselves in. I just don't think he'll be able to speak for months on end in the platitudes necessary to bring a campaign to a successful conclusion. But I hope that I'm wrong – we should be electing Presidents because they've done something worthwhile (like writing this book), instead because their husband, father, or brother was someone who had the job before.
All of this is more about US politics than the book – sorry. It's a good book. Read it.
November 8, 2020
Fascinating! James Webb knows the landscape and he puts you on the ground and in the fight!!
August 28, 2017
Well, this is isn't Michael Herr or Tim O'Brien, but it's a pretty good Vietnam War novel as far as VW novels go. It has some bits of less-than-good writing that expose Webb's self-aware tinkering as a writer in the background, especially in the characters' backstories and the chapters that take place Stateside, but the in-country, combat, and "boonies" parts, like the book itself generally, are much better: exciting, engaging, dramatic, often funny. Excluding the somewhat forgettable and therefore unnecessary prologue, "Fields of Fire" starts with looooong backstories of two of the central characters – Snake and Lt. Hodges – which I found rather tedious, cliché-ridden and poorly written, so that, knowing the book had a very high rating here on Goodreads, I was genuinely perplexed as to its popularity. But then the story really gets going once it moves to Vietnam, where it begins with a combat scene – the "Where's Baby Cakes?" one – that I actually believe to be the best I've ever read.
What follows is the story of a squad in a Marine platoon in Vietnam, and it is pure Vietnam stock: casualties and new arrivals, artillery barrages and ambushes, tracers in the night, booby traps and the sputtering of AK-47s, patrols and "sweeps," burning down villages and brutalizing the Vietnamese, the climate and the terrain, rice paddies and elephant grass, lots of marching and digging, brief respites "in the rear," bitching about lifers, getting stoned, "fraggings," racial tensions among the U.S. rank and file, forging friendships and cultivating animosities. I've always been tempted to craft a story about the Vietnam War that consisted of all the standard images, stereotypes, and the by-now familiar scenes and characters associated with the conflict, but I think Webb's already done it. It's all here. But it’s a-okay: “Fields of Fire” really holds up, it’s a page-turner, and its scope of Vietnam mainstays gives it an air of the war’s epic, if such thing is possible.
The characters are drawn boldly and engagingly, even though most reflect something of the stereotypes you'd expect in a pop-culture story about a squad of U.S. Marines. But distinctive, relatable characters are actually rare in Vietnam literature: in O'Brien’s books, for example, superior as his prose his, the characters are forgettable and replaceable, usually little more than carriers for what O'Brien wants to say. In Philip Caputo's "A Rumor of War," which is often touted as one of the absolute top best of the VW literature (but which I hate!), the only character you get to know in any depth is Caputo himself. Larry Heinemann's "Close Quarters" is so naturalistic and has characters so unlikable it's impossible to get close to and sympathize with them. So it's to Webb's credit that he's churned out a bunch of protagonists who, although not always sympathetic, are affective and likeable (the morality of their actions notwithstanding), even if he does occasionally deal in cringe-worthy, half-assed cliché. Senator, for instance, a (surprise surprise) Harvard philosophy student who'd joined the Corps to play the bugle and ended up in An Hoa instead, reads Schopenhauer in the bush and concludes to his less-than-interested buddies, concerning their experience in the war: “‘It makes me believe in the randomness of things. Like existentialism. Suffering without meaning, except in the suffering instead.’ Bagger nudged Ottenburger. ‘What the hell is Shit-head talking about?’ ‘School.’” But the stereotyping is only partial, and Webb does endow most of the primary characters with some nuance: most importantly, they’re believable.
In fact, “Fields of Fire” reminds me a bit of “Band of Brothers” the TV show, in its focus on one unit, the switching between different perspectives, and their ambiguity: while showing the horrors of the battlefield, the destruction of the human body, and (FoF more than BoB) the problematic morality of warfare, just as “Band of Brothers” wasn’t anti-war, so “Fields of Fire” isn’t anti-military (the latter is on the Marine Corps recommended reading list, while the first is screened to cadets at Sandhurst, for example). “Band of Brothers” was bound chronologically by its eponymous company's experience in WWII and their march through Europe, from boot camp through D-Day through Bastogne to Germany's surrender and the glory of Hitler's Eagle Nest, the war itself supplying the milestones toward eventual triumph. Vietnam, of course, could not offer a similar significant timeline, so the plot of "Fields of Fire" is instead limited to the typical thirteen months of a Marine's tour - specifically the tours of some of the central characters - and the march mostly consists of the unit's rotating in and out of the same barren areas to carry out minor patrols and ambushes that never add up to any kind of decisive victory, each man's war ending the moment his tour ends, either because he's done the time, or because he's been seriously wounded or killed; this comparison, I think, illustrates neatly the fundamental difference in experience of the U.S. soldiers fighting in Vietnam to their predecessors in Europe or the Pacific. I’ve read somewhere that in the ‘90s Webb tried to have his book turned into a film, but the project failed because the U.S. Department of Defense said no. Maybe this was a good thing, because if Webb ever wanted to revisit the idea, “Fields of Fire” would work brilliantly as a TV series in the “Band of Brothers”/“The Pacific” fashion. Tom Hanks, are you reading this? I’d totally buy a box-set.
About the different perspectives thing: some characters receive more prime time than others, but the narrative switches quite freely from one man's view to another's. Many are provided with chapters detailing their backgrounds. There's also Dan, a Vietnamese peasant-turned Viet Cong-turned deserter to the Marines, in equal measure worthy of pity and condemnation. His appearance is a very rare instance in U.S. literature, or cinema, of the VW, as they usually abstain from presenting seriously the Vietnamese point of view, besides showing packs of terrified, screaming, violated villagers. I’ve been interested in the American representations of the Vietnamese in the war for a while, and although Webb’s book is not un-problematic in this regard—especially in his treatment of “Oriental women,” but not only—“Fields of Fire” is at least more interesting, and clearly more invested, in this issue.
So, to sum up: if someone asked me for a recommendation in VW literature, I’d say Michael Herr and “Dispatches” first, if they wanted a heavy trip. Tim O’Brien – yes, always, but with the disclaimer that he’s at least as interested in the process of storytelling, in making the war into literature, as he is in the war itself, and so his work is not as “pure Vietnam” as other titles (with the exception of his memoir, “If I Die in a Combat Zone,” but this one is marred by other problems). If that someone wanted a straightforward, experience-based, highly readable work about the U.S. infantry soldiers in Vietnam and what they went through there, I’d say “Fields of Fire.”
I’m giving it 3,5 stars: three because I’m judging it as literature generally, not exclusively VW literature, and while “Fields of Fire” is indeed very good in its niche genre, it's still not as good as books can be. The half is solely for a sergeant whose buttocks are on more than one occasion described as “bulbous” :)
What follows is the story of a squad in a Marine platoon in Vietnam, and it is pure Vietnam stock: casualties and new arrivals, artillery barrages and ambushes, tracers in the night, booby traps and the sputtering of AK-47s, patrols and "sweeps," burning down villages and brutalizing the Vietnamese, the climate and the terrain, rice paddies and elephant grass, lots of marching and digging, brief respites "in the rear," bitching about lifers, getting stoned, "fraggings," racial tensions among the U.S. rank and file, forging friendships and cultivating animosities. I've always been tempted to craft a story about the Vietnam War that consisted of all the standard images, stereotypes, and the by-now familiar scenes and characters associated with the conflict, but I think Webb's already done it. It's all here. But it’s a-okay: “Fields of Fire” really holds up, it’s a page-turner, and its scope of Vietnam mainstays gives it an air of the war’s epic, if such thing is possible.
The characters are drawn boldly and engagingly, even though most reflect something of the stereotypes you'd expect in a pop-culture story about a squad of U.S. Marines. But distinctive, relatable characters are actually rare in Vietnam literature: in O'Brien’s books, for example, superior as his prose his, the characters are forgettable and replaceable, usually little more than carriers for what O'Brien wants to say. In Philip Caputo's "A Rumor of War," which is often touted as one of the absolute top best of the VW literature (but which I hate!), the only character you get to know in any depth is Caputo himself. Larry Heinemann's "Close Quarters" is so naturalistic and has characters so unlikable it's impossible to get close to and sympathize with them. So it's to Webb's credit that he's churned out a bunch of protagonists who, although not always sympathetic, are affective and likeable (the morality of their actions notwithstanding), even if he does occasionally deal in cringe-worthy, half-assed cliché. Senator, for instance, a (surprise surprise) Harvard philosophy student who'd joined the Corps to play the bugle and ended up in An Hoa instead, reads Schopenhauer in the bush and concludes to his less-than-interested buddies, concerning their experience in the war: “‘It makes me believe in the randomness of things. Like existentialism. Suffering without meaning, except in the suffering instead.’ Bagger nudged Ottenburger. ‘What the hell is Shit-head talking about?’ ‘School.’” But the stereotyping is only partial, and Webb does endow most of the primary characters with some nuance: most importantly, they’re believable.
In fact, “Fields of Fire” reminds me a bit of “Band of Brothers” the TV show, in its focus on one unit, the switching between different perspectives, and their ambiguity: while showing the horrors of the battlefield, the destruction of the human body, and (FoF more than BoB) the problematic morality of warfare, just as “Band of Brothers” wasn’t anti-war, so “Fields of Fire” isn’t anti-military (the latter is on the Marine Corps recommended reading list, while the first is screened to cadets at Sandhurst, for example). “Band of Brothers” was bound chronologically by its eponymous company's experience in WWII and their march through Europe, from boot camp through D-Day through Bastogne to Germany's surrender and the glory of Hitler's Eagle Nest, the war itself supplying the milestones toward eventual triumph. Vietnam, of course, could not offer a similar significant timeline, so the plot of "Fields of Fire" is instead limited to the typical thirteen months of a Marine's tour - specifically the tours of some of the central characters - and the march mostly consists of the unit's rotating in and out of the same barren areas to carry out minor patrols and ambushes that never add up to any kind of decisive victory, each man's war ending the moment his tour ends, either because he's done the time, or because he's been seriously wounded or killed; this comparison, I think, illustrates neatly the fundamental difference in experience of the U.S. soldiers fighting in Vietnam to their predecessors in Europe or the Pacific. I’ve read somewhere that in the ‘90s Webb tried to have his book turned into a film, but the project failed because the U.S. Department of Defense said no. Maybe this was a good thing, because if Webb ever wanted to revisit the idea, “Fields of Fire” would work brilliantly as a TV series in the “Band of Brothers”/“The Pacific” fashion. Tom Hanks, are you reading this? I’d totally buy a box-set.
About the different perspectives thing: some characters receive more prime time than others, but the narrative switches quite freely from one man's view to another's. Many are provided with chapters detailing their backgrounds. There's also Dan, a Vietnamese peasant-turned Viet Cong-turned deserter to the Marines, in equal measure worthy of pity and condemnation. His appearance is a very rare instance in U.S. literature, or cinema, of the VW, as they usually abstain from presenting seriously the Vietnamese point of view, besides showing packs of terrified, screaming, violated villagers. I’ve been interested in the American representations of the Vietnamese in the war for a while, and although Webb’s book is not un-problematic in this regard—especially in his treatment of “Oriental women,” but not only—“Fields of Fire” is at least more interesting, and clearly more invested, in this issue.
So, to sum up: if someone asked me for a recommendation in VW literature, I’d say Michael Herr and “Dispatches” first, if they wanted a heavy trip. Tim O’Brien – yes, always, but with the disclaimer that he’s at least as interested in the process of storytelling, in making the war into literature, as he is in the war itself, and so his work is not as “pure Vietnam” as other titles (with the exception of his memoir, “If I Die in a Combat Zone,” but this one is marred by other problems). If that someone wanted a straightforward, experience-based, highly readable work about the U.S. infantry soldiers in Vietnam and what they went through there, I’d say “Fields of Fire.”
I’m giving it 3,5 stars: three because I’m judging it as literature generally, not exclusively VW literature, and while “Fields of Fire” is indeed very good in its niche genre, it's still not as good as books can be. The half is solely for a sergeant whose buttocks are on more than one occasion described as “bulbous” :)
November 10, 2011
"Fields of Fire" a realistic Vietnam war book by James Webb, in the perspective of James Webbs experiences in Vietnam as a foot soldier in the "bush". The story is told from many different vantage points, ranks within the military, different races, economic classes, pacifists. By doing this James Webb eliminated most bias ideas so that I could read a balanced book that took no sides.
This book takes the horrors of war and shoves them in your face. It felt like I was in the bush with these men, like they became my brothers in arms. I felt this way because I got to learn about who they were, James Webb pretty much made me bond with these strangers so that I had genuine brotherly feelings for these men. As people died I wanted to be able to help them but I couldn't because I was trapped behind the paper that divides our worlds. I felt the hate for our enemy and the distrust we had for the villagers that constantly watched our every move when on a patrol. I could only watch and read as my comrades were shot and chewed up by lead.
Webb chose an interesting way to tell us about Vietnam. He constantly switches between perspectives, which is really risky in the sense of confusing the reader. In the beggining I was confused because I thought Webb was talking about one person until I saw that they were doing seperate things. The book does eventually clear up so the beggining being confusing doesn't hurt the story.
All in all this book is a great way to see how soldiers endure[d] war. It shows how some people can handle war by calussing and how others can't handle the emotional pressures of war. I recommend that everyone in high school or above should read this book to get a perspective of what military pesonnel are effected by when deployed.
This book takes the horrors of war and shoves them in your face. It felt like I was in the bush with these men, like they became my brothers in arms. I felt this way because I got to learn about who they were, James Webb pretty much made me bond with these strangers so that I had genuine brotherly feelings for these men. As people died I wanted to be able to help them but I couldn't because I was trapped behind the paper that divides our worlds. I felt the hate for our enemy and the distrust we had for the villagers that constantly watched our every move when on a patrol. I could only watch and read as my comrades were shot and chewed up by lead.
Webb chose an interesting way to tell us about Vietnam. He constantly switches between perspectives, which is really risky in the sense of confusing the reader. In the beggining I was confused because I thought Webb was talking about one person until I saw that they were doing seperate things. The book does eventually clear up so the beggining being confusing doesn't hurt the story.
All in all this book is a great way to see how soldiers endure[d] war. It shows how some people can handle war by calussing and how others can't handle the emotional pressures of war. I recommend that everyone in high school or above should read this book to get a perspective of what military pesonnel are effected by when deployed.
July 27, 2025
I knew the author wrote about Scots-Irish Southern culture, and vaguely, when Webb's political hopes rose, about a Vietnam-era fiction, but I'd no idea that Fields of Fire wasn't a cash-in potboiler. In this 4oth anniversary ed., Webb explains its moral design, narrative arc, and subtle structural conventions of classical literature integrated as to character development, archetypes, and philosophical lessons.
I paraphrase him slightly, but it reminded me of Karl Marlantes' Matterhorn and What It Is Like to Go to War, both of which I'd recommended to my humanities undergrads, many as veterans of Gulf and/or Afghan tours of duty. And duty, Hodges from The Volunteer State innately feels, compels him to continue a family legacy of soldiers from fringes once frontier. In country he joins Snake--so self-assured he gets tatted before he enlists in the Corps--from a junkie's sordid slum (well-evoked: Webb sketches settings skillfully), and aptly named Goodrich aptly nicknamed Senator, Harvard dropout notching up service (for a future resume and run?). Either ironic or prescient given Webb's '78 debut.
Near its start, in medias res, we're plunged into a firefight, vividly conveyed: tracers and flares burst sporadically amid darkness. No heroics, only screams, curses, thuds. While we get of course a genre convention of troops jumbled from disparate backgrounds and regional idiosyncrasies, always in flux as casualties mount in Doomed Dying Delta, Webb introduces characters smoothly and without cliche.
Battles immerse you without recourse to rhetorical deathbed recitals to the folks back home. Oblivion comes with the thump of a mortar or pop of a booby trap. A meddlesome "Papa Sierra" gets fragged; friendly fire decimates three Marines near, who knows? Thirty times that of the Viet Cong? An inflated body count no more than a boast or guess tossed off to brass and media: rot, rats, mud muddle sanity. In misery, a resignation to tedium, interspersed with revenge, peppers their diabolical daily routine.
Midway, we're alerted to frontline trapped Vietnamese, facing hefty Americans, as sullen or savvy go-betweens. Caught between VC and USMC, to save his family, Dan flees to the enemy's unsafe haven. Webb shows traps sprung for the peasants near the Laotian border and their invaders, neither able to resist the communist onslaught from an unrelenting North. Webb gradually expands his frame, as he zooms out of Delta's beleaguered Marines to pivot to military operations surrounding their redoubts.
He sketches out how villages hectares apart evolve contrasting personalities for their resigned stolid dwellers. How soldiers left dead-end hometowns to enlist, and how hippies and vets treat them back Stateside. The significance of increased fresh excrement outside a hamlet, or the unsuckled breasts of a woman lacking pockmarks. A few terms intersperse naturally, some native jargon garbled as a creole, others as slang by the ranks which this civilian looked up, e.g, piss-cutter, pogue, or Willie Peter. (Reading this on Kindle, after the fact, I found a glossary appended.) Hodges, returning to mainland, is assigned processing "dead seabags" of those preceding, as casualties: his transition to life as he knew it before the haul to Indochina. The third quarter of the novel, once the ensemble has settled into the Green Suck, isn't as propulsive, but this reflects the acclimation of hardened grunts.
The last section segues into close-range infantry skirmishes in the paddies. Without any centrifugal stability, the war disintegrates into every man for himself. Time-servers shrug as frontline underlings resign themselves to hunkering in, lashing out in retaliation, or losing themselves in sordid R+R lust.
The denouement works well as we learn a survivor's debate with fellow vets seeking to sign him into their cause. The Marine justifies his ethical stance, and that of a relative deepens the complexity of the decision made in his household. We also discover the aftermath of those connected to comrades who will never return, in matter-of-fact tones. Webb's refusal to sentimentality strengthens the end.
I paraphrase him slightly, but it reminded me of Karl Marlantes' Matterhorn and What It Is Like to Go to War, both of which I'd recommended to my humanities undergrads, many as veterans of Gulf and/or Afghan tours of duty. And duty, Hodges from The Volunteer State innately feels, compels him to continue a family legacy of soldiers from fringes once frontier. In country he joins Snake--so self-assured he gets tatted before he enlists in the Corps--from a junkie's sordid slum (well-evoked: Webb sketches settings skillfully), and aptly named Goodrich aptly nicknamed Senator, Harvard dropout notching up service (for a future resume and run?). Either ironic or prescient given Webb's '78 debut.
Near its start, in medias res, we're plunged into a firefight, vividly conveyed: tracers and flares burst sporadically amid darkness. No heroics, only screams, curses, thuds. While we get of course a genre convention of troops jumbled from disparate backgrounds and regional idiosyncrasies, always in flux as casualties mount in Doomed Dying Delta, Webb introduces characters smoothly and without cliche.
Battles immerse you without recourse to rhetorical deathbed recitals to the folks back home. Oblivion comes with the thump of a mortar or pop of a booby trap. A meddlesome "Papa Sierra" gets fragged; friendly fire decimates three Marines near, who knows? Thirty times that of the Viet Cong? An inflated body count no more than a boast or guess tossed off to brass and media: rot, rats, mud muddle sanity. In misery, a resignation to tedium, interspersed with revenge, peppers their diabolical daily routine.
Midway, we're alerted to frontline trapped Vietnamese, facing hefty Americans, as sullen or savvy go-betweens. Caught between VC and USMC, to save his family, Dan flees to the enemy's unsafe haven. Webb shows traps sprung for the peasants near the Laotian border and their invaders, neither able to resist the communist onslaught from an unrelenting North. Webb gradually expands his frame, as he zooms out of Delta's beleaguered Marines to pivot to military operations surrounding their redoubts.
He sketches out how villages hectares apart evolve contrasting personalities for their resigned stolid dwellers. How soldiers left dead-end hometowns to enlist, and how hippies and vets treat them back Stateside. The significance of increased fresh excrement outside a hamlet, or the unsuckled breasts of a woman lacking pockmarks. A few terms intersperse naturally, some native jargon garbled as a creole, others as slang by the ranks which this civilian looked up, e.g, piss-cutter, pogue, or Willie Peter. (Reading this on Kindle, after the fact, I found a glossary appended.) Hodges, returning to mainland, is assigned processing "dead seabags" of those preceding, as casualties: his transition to life as he knew it before the haul to Indochina. The third quarter of the novel, once the ensemble has settled into the Green Suck, isn't as propulsive, but this reflects the acclimation of hardened grunts.
The last section segues into close-range infantry skirmishes in the paddies. Without any centrifugal stability, the war disintegrates into every man for himself. Time-servers shrug as frontline underlings resign themselves to hunkering in, lashing out in retaliation, or losing themselves in sordid R+R lust.
The denouement works well as we learn a survivor's debate with fellow vets seeking to sign him into their cause. The Marine justifies his ethical stance, and that of a relative deepens the complexity of the decision made in his household. We also discover the aftermath of those connected to comrades who will never return, in matter-of-fact tones. Webb's refusal to sentimentality strengthens the end.
April 19, 2020
"In my opinion, the greatest of the Vietnam novels!"
This was the the high praise given to Fields of Fire, which was placed squarely on the cover of the book. It gave me high expectations which I do not think were ever fully realized.
The novel follows a group of young Marines and details their experiences in Vietnam. The characters were alright; I wished some of them had had more time to narrate their experiences. The three main narrators seemed like archetypes I had met before in war novels, but some of the side characters touched on for a page or two seemed more interesting to me.
Perhaps this issue I had with the characters reveals my biggest issue with this book in its entirety. I felt like I was reading war novels I had read before, and the themes and ideas presented were not explored in a new and different way.
I walked away from this book not hating it, but not impressed with it in any way; and I would have to say, the review on the cover was most misleading. I would move to have it changed. Some possible suggestions: "on a scale of 1 to 10, this book is certainly in there somewhere"; or “in three words, I would describe this book as 'that's a book'".
On the whole, it was a mediocre read.
This was the the high praise given to Fields of Fire, which was placed squarely on the cover of the book. It gave me high expectations which I do not think were ever fully realized.
The novel follows a group of young Marines and details their experiences in Vietnam. The characters were alright; I wished some of them had had more time to narrate their experiences. The three main narrators seemed like archetypes I had met before in war novels, but some of the side characters touched on for a page or two seemed more interesting to me.
Perhaps this issue I had with the characters reveals my biggest issue with this book in its entirety. I felt like I was reading war novels I had read before, and the themes and ideas presented were not explored in a new and different way.
I walked away from this book not hating it, but not impressed with it in any way; and I would have to say, the review on the cover was most misleading. I would move to have it changed. Some possible suggestions: "on a scale of 1 to 10, this book is certainly in there somewhere"; or “in three words, I would describe this book as 'that's a book'".
On the whole, it was a mediocre read.
May 24, 2020
4.5 Stars - Three very different men, each of which with their own reasons for joining up to fight for Uncle Sam &
Be sent off to the Vietnam War, a conflict that itself is a conflict & would define a generation.
None of the three could possibly of known what mayhem awaited them, even if they had a of known, they wouldn’t really of known just how murderous, dark & unrelenting this land would be to anyone whom was unfortunate enough to see action, nor for just how long their hell would run on turbo. Webb does an extraordinarily good job of giving each character not only a past, but a psyche & giving the reader a clear 1m2 window into its most complex parts , with Snake being the one that most grabbed me with his clear mental instability before combat something that was always going to be a recipe worth sampling once the baking is through.
This is a powerhouse of a novel, that resonates with future and last generations in equal parts. Its many things but mostly it is human, so imperfectly human in all its horror & humor.
Be sent off to the Vietnam War, a conflict that itself is a conflict & would define a generation.
None of the three could possibly of known what mayhem awaited them, even if they had a of known, they wouldn’t really of known just how murderous, dark & unrelenting this land would be to anyone whom was unfortunate enough to see action, nor for just how long their hell would run on turbo. Webb does an extraordinarily good job of giving each character not only a past, but a psyche & giving the reader a clear 1m2 window into its most complex parts , with Snake being the one that most grabbed me with his clear mental instability before combat something that was always going to be a recipe worth sampling once the baking is through.
This is a powerhouse of a novel, that resonates with future and last generations in equal parts. Its many things but mostly it is human, so imperfectly human in all its horror & humor.
November 27, 2007
Confession of a long-time Red Crosser: the Vietnam war always interested me (and the music from that era still kicks ass - Jefferson Airplane - I say no more).
This book is by far one of the best books I've read on that subject. It follows a number of soliders (based on actual persons, as they say) - how and why they decided to join the Marines, but mostly it is about a 6-month period in Vietnam.
It reads like fiction, but it implicitly asks a number of difficult questions: what is "wrong", what is "right" and what happens to a person's notion of either during war?
Oh, and a lot of technical mumbo-jumbo as well.
This book is by far one of the best books I've read on that subject. It follows a number of soliders (based on actual persons, as they say) - how and why they decided to join the Marines, but mostly it is about a 6-month period in Vietnam.
It reads like fiction, but it implicitly asks a number of difficult questions: what is "wrong", what is "right" and what happens to a person's notion of either during war?
Oh, and a lot of technical mumbo-jumbo as well.
November 9, 2009
The junior senator from Virginia's brutal look at the Vietnam War. Plenty of war-related depressing brutality, but the real downer is how, in Webb's view, nobody on either side - hawks or doves - really cared about the guys who had to serve, or understood them. It was a polarizing moment in American history, but what Webb reminds us is that many of the men who fought the war wound up unable to relate to either side of the great cultural divide. Serving in combat, Webb seems to be telling us, renders one unable to relate to anything else or to interact with or understand ordinary people back home.
September 4, 2011
Awful. Couldn't finish it.
I am surprised at all the terrific reviews. I felt the writing skill to be sorely lacking.
For a quality Vietnam War fiction I would rather recommend such books asMatterhorn: A Novel of the Vietnam War and The Things They Carried. the writing quality of Fields of Fire compared to top shelf novels such as those two..well, it's like chalk and cheese.
I am surprised at all the terrific reviews. I felt the writing skill to be sorely lacking.
For a quality Vietnam War fiction I would rather recommend such books asMatterhorn: A Novel of the Vietnam War and The Things They Carried. the writing quality of Fields of Fire compared to top shelf novels such as those two..well, it's like chalk and cheese.
October 6, 2008
I'm giving myself cool points for reading this book BEFORE he was my senator. This book is a good example of how good fiction is based on fact. In this case, Webb's experiences in Nam. He doesn't shy away from the naughty bits either - I recall he caught some criticism for describing some underage prostitution but hey, props to him for keepin' it real, especially since he was a politician when he was writing it.
January 25, 2009
This is how it really was and I know, because I was there with the author.
January 23, 2020
One of the classics to come out of the Vietnam War. I read it many years ago while at the Military Academy and took its lessons to heart.
A timeless story of men at war.
A timeless story of men at war.
Read
September 2, 2019It is the year 1969, and young men are becoming soldiers for different reasons. The Vietnam War was something hard to understand for most people. The men who fought in the war were either drafted or they signed up on their own accord. Snake, Hodges, and Senator are the three main characters of the story. There are several other characters throughout the story that they each encounter in one way or another.
Before enlisting in the service, Senator lived with his mother and father and attended Harvard. His father is a lawyer and his mother is a homemaker. When the draft swept through and took the young men to war, his friends found ways to dodge the draft, whether it was fleeing to Canada or taking pills to fail the draft physical. They all found ways, but Senator did not. He faced his future head on and took it like a man. He had no idea what he would be facing in Vietnam. His parents were very proud of him.
Snake enlisted in the service on his own accord. He lived with his mother and stepfather in a bad part of town. His life was never simple. He went from job to job after quitting high school and never knew what his future held for him. He was always fighting and getting into drugs. The one thing he was always good at was fighting. His mother told him that one day his temper would get him into trouble. One day he walked into a tattoo parlor and got another tattoo. His most recent tattoo had the words, "Death Before Dishonor". Right after getting the tattoo, he walked straight into the recruitment office and signed up for the Marines. He went to boot camp shortly after enlisting and was a big success. This was partly due to his rough upbringing and lack of showing emotion. The other men looked up to him for guidance. He thought he had finally found the career meant for him.
Hodges's reasons for enlisting were largely due to his ancestors, who had fought in every battle and war that came along. His father had died in a war before he was born and his mother kept his memories tucked away in a locker. The locker was kept in the barn outside of the house and Hodges learned early on how to crack it open and rummage through his father's memories. Hodges mother remarried and had two more children, but Hodges was the last of his line. His grandmother (his father's mother) lived nearby and he visited her every Sunday. They would sit and talk about the wars of yesterday and how brave his father was. She talked about all of the Hodges before him and how they also fought in battles for the betterment of America. This made him proud and also reminded him of what was in his blood. He was meant to fight in the battles, just as his ancestors before him.
Each of these men had their reasons to enlist. Each one had a different background and came together during the height of the Vietnam War. They go through a tremendous challenge together that brings them closer than any of them thought they could be. Their stomachs ache from seeing bloody, torn apart bodies at the light of each day, and they throw up at the sight. The barbed wire that surrounds the compound is filled with body fragments of the enemy. The Medevac takes the wounded, but the enemy dead are saved for the morning truck, which they fill with dead bodies for mass burials.
Each day they spend in the bush of Vietnam feels like an eternity. They have to wade through chest-deep water crawling with leeches to get to their next destination. Once they arrive they cannot dry off, because of the constant rain. They eat cold C-rations and smoke cigarettes while they dig their holes for the night's battle. Once night comes, the battle ensues with the enemy firing all around them. They are in a stranger in a strange land and strange ward--but like all others--it's kill or be killed.
1) Snake gets a tattoo with a skull entwined by two snakes and the words, "Death Before Dishonor" at the bottom. He decides that with his temper and urge to fight, there is no better place for him than the Marines. He goes to the recruiting office and enlists himself. During boot camp he realizes this has been a wise career choice for him, considering his rough upbringing. He's not easily broken and finds that the other men enlisted look to him for guidance.
2)Bobby (Robert E. Lee Hodges, Jr.) is about to leave for Vietnam. He hadn't yet been born when his father passed away. Robert E. Lee Hodges, Sr. was a soldier, fighting the Germans in France when he was killed. Bobby never got to know his father, but his grandmother made sure he knew about the family history. He visits her every Sunday for lunch, and they reminisce about the old days. He opens an old locker with memorabilia of his late father. Bobby looks at the old uniforms and badges his father once wore. He feels a sense of pride that he is going off to war as his father had done many years ago. He is carrying on his family tradition of fighting on fields of fire.
3) Hodges arrives at the base in An Hoa. An explosion kills the First Sergeant and plummets a hand through the air toward him. The second night Hodges watches a battle in what they called Arizona Valley--a field that lay between An Hoa and the mountains, which are filled with the enemy.
Before enlisting in the service, Senator lived with his mother and father and attended Harvard. His father is a lawyer and his mother is a homemaker. When the draft swept through and took the young men to war, his friends found ways to dodge the draft, whether it was fleeing to Canada or taking pills to fail the draft physical. They all found ways, but Senator did not. He faced his future head on and took it like a man. He had no idea what he would be facing in Vietnam. His parents were very proud of him.
Snake enlisted in the service on his own accord. He lived with his mother and stepfather in a bad part of town. His life was never simple. He went from job to job after quitting high school and never knew what his future held for him. He was always fighting and getting into drugs. The one thing he was always good at was fighting. His mother told him that one day his temper would get him into trouble. One day he walked into a tattoo parlor and got another tattoo. His most recent tattoo had the words, "Death Before Dishonor". Right after getting the tattoo, he walked straight into the recruitment office and signed up for the Marines. He went to boot camp shortly after enlisting and was a big success. This was partly due to his rough upbringing and lack of showing emotion. The other men looked up to him for guidance. He thought he had finally found the career meant for him.
Hodges's reasons for enlisting were largely due to his ancestors, who had fought in every battle and war that came along. His father had died in a war before he was born and his mother kept his memories tucked away in a locker. The locker was kept in the barn outside of the house and Hodges learned early on how to crack it open and rummage through his father's memories. Hodges mother remarried and had two more children, but Hodges was the last of his line. His grandmother (his father's mother) lived nearby and he visited her every Sunday. They would sit and talk about the wars of yesterday and how brave his father was. She talked about all of the Hodges before him and how they also fought in battles for the betterment of America. This made him proud and also reminded him of what was in his blood. He was meant to fight in the battles, just as his ancestors before him.
Each of these men had their reasons to enlist. Each one had a different background and came together during the height of the Vietnam War. They go through a tremendous challenge together that brings them closer than any of them thought they could be. Their stomachs ache from seeing bloody, torn apart bodies at the light of each day, and they throw up at the sight. The barbed wire that surrounds the compound is filled with body fragments of the enemy. The Medevac takes the wounded, but the enemy dead are saved for the morning truck, which they fill with dead bodies for mass burials.
Each day they spend in the bush of Vietnam feels like an eternity. They have to wade through chest-deep water crawling with leeches to get to their next destination. Once they arrive they cannot dry off, because of the constant rain. They eat cold C-rations and smoke cigarettes while they dig their holes for the night's battle. Once night comes, the battle ensues with the enemy firing all around them. They are in a stranger in a strange land and strange ward--but like all others--it's kill or be killed.
1) Snake gets a tattoo with a skull entwined by two snakes and the words, "Death Before Dishonor" at the bottom. He decides that with his temper and urge to fight, there is no better place for him than the Marines. He goes to the recruiting office and enlists himself. During boot camp he realizes this has been a wise career choice for him, considering his rough upbringing. He's not easily broken and finds that the other men enlisted look to him for guidance.
2)Bobby (Robert E. Lee Hodges, Jr.) is about to leave for Vietnam. He hadn't yet been born when his father passed away. Robert E. Lee Hodges, Sr. was a soldier, fighting the Germans in France when he was killed. Bobby never got to know his father, but his grandmother made sure he knew about the family history. He visits her every Sunday for lunch, and they reminisce about the old days. He opens an old locker with memorabilia of his late father. Bobby looks at the old uniforms and badges his father once wore. He feels a sense of pride that he is going off to war as his father had done many years ago. He is carrying on his family tradition of fighting on fields of fire.
3) Hodges arrives at the base in An Hoa. An explosion kills the First Sergeant and plummets a hand through the air toward him. The second night Hodges watches a battle in what they called Arizona Valley--a field that lay between An Hoa and the mountains, which are filled with the enemy.
August 28, 2015
I highly recommend three books about the war in Vietnam: Rumor of War, The Things They Carried and this book, Fields of Fire. Fields of Fire is a realistic novel about a platoon of grunts (infantry) and their experiences in the bush. Set in the fields of 1969 Vietnam (outside Da Nang), you will meet some interesting characters (US marines). I liked the way the book ended with the confrontation between two Harvard men, one who fought in the war and one who ran to Canada. You can disagree with the politics of the war but I think it would be unwise to judge young men who fought the war. They answered the call, they did not run. The writer, Jim Webb, also answered the call. He was there as an infantry officer (a leader of young men) and knows of what he writes.
August 17, 2015
This is a book I read and reread when I was in high school. I'm finally tossing out my old nasty paperback copy, but I wanted to make sure I marked it here as read and awesome.
June 1, 2014
There are many marvelous books about combat experiences, so how can we distinguish among them? I propose a Tolstoyan test: every good war novel is good in the same way; every great war novel is great in its own way. That is, a good novel about an experience like war captures the common elements of the experience; a great novel captures unique elements of the experience. To date, I’ve considered E. B. Sledge’s tale of Marine grunts in the Pacific (With the Old Breed) the best WWII combat book, and Karl Marlantes’ Viet Nam book (Matterhorn) the best Viet Nam book. Now comes James Webb’s Fields of Fire, a Viet Nam book published in 1978—32 years before Matterhorn.
James Webb is an American hero: a 1968 Naval Academy graduate; a twice-wounded Marine lieutenant in Viet Nam earning the Navy Cross (second only to the Medal of Honor), the Silver Star, and two Bronze Stars; a US Senator (Democrat, Virginia, 2006-2012); a Secretary of the Navy (1987-88). He is also a prolific writer, with nine published and popular books to his credit. His first, Fields of Fire, is a novel built on his combat experiences; his latest, I Hear My Country Calling (2014) is a memoir.
Fields of Fire is very like Matterhorn—or should I say, given the difference in publication dates, Matterhorn is very like Fields of Fire? Like Marlantes, Webb weaves the social lives of archetypal grunts into his story; in fact, Webb’s character development is better than Marlantes’. We learn how each platoon member found his way to the Marines and to Vietnam, and we learn what they bring to the action. Snake, the street-fighting son of a prostitute, is an astute squad leader with innate leadership skills and an endearing sense of humor—he assigns the nicknames to platoon members, catching each grunt’s qualities precisely; when a private remarks during a firefight “I don’t know where we are, or where they are,” Snake replies with finger circling in the air, ”We are here, and they are everywhere else.” Flake, the radioman, is a perfect barometer of upcoming VC attacks—when he runs and hides (taking the radio with him) its time to lock and load. Senator is a Harvard student who is too good to be where he is, he lacks the toughness to be a combat Marine and he represents a true fact—the well-cared for civilian is a poorer field Marine than the product of a negligent childhood. And there are many others: Homicide, Wild Man, Bagger, Cannonball, Waterbull, Phony, and so on. A few are there for the duration, most come in and are lost to death, disease, or injury.
The central character is Lieutenant Hodges (Webb’s alter ego), the offspring of a long line of tough hard-scrabble Virginia farmers whose men have died in every American war. His grandmother has filled him with stories of the ancestors’ dedication, heroism, and death on the battlefield, and he thinks of them as the ghosts who shape his world. But when Hodges goes off to war she drops the truth bomb, telling him, “Hodges never had a lick of luck at that.” Hodges is the raw Looie platoon commander who will learn the fieldcraft of war on the job.
A grunt-level combat book requires that grunts die for the command officers’ glory. Here we see squads assigned to untenable positions by order of a battalion commander whose last experience was in Korea—a very different war. Predictably, when the futility of the assignment is brought to his attention, the Colonel refuses to change his mind, and equally predictably the squad suffers the consequences while the Colonel is nominated for a Silver Star. Officers seek rank and promotion, grunts seek survival.
The one common element of every great Marine combat book I’ve read is the importance of the team. A Marine combat unit is a gaggle of men who come from extremely different circumstances yet are shaped into a unit bound tightly by mutual respect (if not affection). Civilians are free to laugh at this—as a former Marine and a university professor, I had to accept the comments of absurdly other-worldly young professors who had many good qualities not including a cooperative instinct or an inclination to mutual care. It is a wonderful experience to realize that, for example, Snake knows that Flake is a coward yet still sees his humanity and will give his life to protect him. Webb’s book brings out this almost unique characteristic of the good Marine—no Marine is left alone or left behind.
I’ll end this recruiting message with a quandary. Fields of Fire is very like Matterhorn—tough combat experiences, fragging the sergeant, the raw lieutenant growing up, the futility of the war, the commanders’ love of medals and disdain for losses. Why is this so? Did Marlantes borrow from Webb—Marlantes must have read Fields of Fire, and my guess is that he consciously or unconsciously recognized it as his story. Or were the experiences so universal that the Viet Nam front-line story is really the same for all? Both are powerful books, but if you want a great one-two punch on Viet Nam, read Fields of Fire first, then Matterhorn. Five stars!
James Webb is an American hero: a 1968 Naval Academy graduate; a twice-wounded Marine lieutenant in Viet Nam earning the Navy Cross (second only to the Medal of Honor), the Silver Star, and two Bronze Stars; a US Senator (Democrat, Virginia, 2006-2012); a Secretary of the Navy (1987-88). He is also a prolific writer, with nine published and popular books to his credit. His first, Fields of Fire, is a novel built on his combat experiences; his latest, I Hear My Country Calling (2014) is a memoir.
Fields of Fire is very like Matterhorn—or should I say, given the difference in publication dates, Matterhorn is very like Fields of Fire? Like Marlantes, Webb weaves the social lives of archetypal grunts into his story; in fact, Webb’s character development is better than Marlantes’. We learn how each platoon member found his way to the Marines and to Vietnam, and we learn what they bring to the action. Snake, the street-fighting son of a prostitute, is an astute squad leader with innate leadership skills and an endearing sense of humor—he assigns the nicknames to platoon members, catching each grunt’s qualities precisely; when a private remarks during a firefight “I don’t know where we are, or where they are,” Snake replies with finger circling in the air, ”We are here, and they are everywhere else.” Flake, the radioman, is a perfect barometer of upcoming VC attacks—when he runs and hides (taking the radio with him) its time to lock and load. Senator is a Harvard student who is too good to be where he is, he lacks the toughness to be a combat Marine and he represents a true fact—the well-cared for civilian is a poorer field Marine than the product of a negligent childhood. And there are many others: Homicide, Wild Man, Bagger, Cannonball, Waterbull, Phony, and so on. A few are there for the duration, most come in and are lost to death, disease, or injury.
The central character is Lieutenant Hodges (Webb’s alter ego), the offspring of a long line of tough hard-scrabble Virginia farmers whose men have died in every American war. His grandmother has filled him with stories of the ancestors’ dedication, heroism, and death on the battlefield, and he thinks of them as the ghosts who shape his world. But when Hodges goes off to war she drops the truth bomb, telling him, “Hodges never had a lick of luck at that.” Hodges is the raw Looie platoon commander who will learn the fieldcraft of war on the job.
A grunt-level combat book requires that grunts die for the command officers’ glory. Here we see squads assigned to untenable positions by order of a battalion commander whose last experience was in Korea—a very different war. Predictably, when the futility of the assignment is brought to his attention, the Colonel refuses to change his mind, and equally predictably the squad suffers the consequences while the Colonel is nominated for a Silver Star. Officers seek rank and promotion, grunts seek survival.
The one common element of every great Marine combat book I’ve read is the importance of the team. A Marine combat unit is a gaggle of men who come from extremely different circumstances yet are shaped into a unit bound tightly by mutual respect (if not affection). Civilians are free to laugh at this—as a former Marine and a university professor, I had to accept the comments of absurdly other-worldly young professors who had many good qualities not including a cooperative instinct or an inclination to mutual care. It is a wonderful experience to realize that, for example, Snake knows that Flake is a coward yet still sees his humanity and will give his life to protect him. Webb’s book brings out this almost unique characteristic of the good Marine—no Marine is left alone or left behind.
I’ll end this recruiting message with a quandary. Fields of Fire is very like Matterhorn—tough combat experiences, fragging the sergeant, the raw lieutenant growing up, the futility of the war, the commanders’ love of medals and disdain for losses. Why is this so? Did Marlantes borrow from Webb—Marlantes must have read Fields of Fire, and my guess is that he consciously or unconsciously recognized it as his story. Or were the experiences so universal that the Viet Nam front-line story is really the same for all? Both are powerful books, but if you want a great one-two punch on Viet Nam, read Fields of Fire first, then Matterhorn. Five stars!
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