BRASS RAIL FOXTROT

In Moore’s military drama, a convoy of American ships conducts perilous missions along the Cambodian border during the Vietnam War.

Ted Harris, captain of Alpha-10, an assault support patrol boat, is unhappy about his new orders; he is to lead an armada of ships to Chau Doc near the Cambodian border to create a blockade in a narrow canal he has never heard of. The trip itself proves to be fraught with danger—he’s assured early on by Nguyet Pham, a Vietnamese volunteer, that the quiet of their environs won’t last. (“Will not be boring for long, Mr. Boat Captain.”) Even when the crew isn’t contending with ambushes and sniper fire, the heat and humidity prove oppressive, the mosquitos are ubiquitous and unmerciful, and venomous snakes are everywhere (the atmosphere of pervasive danger is powerfully depicted by the author). Eric Bingo, one of Harris’ gunners, is nearly killed by a snake bite. Harris is also beleaguered by emotional anxiety—his pregnant wife hasn’t written to him in weeks, which is a terrible blow to a soldier who lives to hear news from home. (“The night was tough on Ted Harris. He didn’t know what he would do if it weren’t for his crew. No word from his pregnant wife about anything. His mind wandered: had she met someone? If so, who would want to date a pregnant woman?”)

Moore furnishes a meticulous account of military life in Vietnam and examines the bewildered disorientation of the soldiers, who often express an agitated confusion about the ultimate purpose of the war (they’re quite reasonably afraid to die for nothing). The author’s research is magisterial—readers get a vivid impression, replete with exacting detail, of the Navy’s strategies and operations in Vietnam. Even more impressive is the depiction of the emotional strain on the sailors, many of whom were drafted; some enlisted in the Army but were shuffled into the Navy due to a demand for seamen. Many of them are barely men—Bingo is only 18 years old and a mama’s boy, an innocent who loses his virginity to a Vietnamese sex worker in one of the most strangely moving scenes in the novel. (“Bingo grasped the moment, mounted her, poked and poked, but had no success in placing his wrapped penis anywhere near an entry point, wondering why and if she was diseased. Tiring of being prodded, Lee took his prick and inserted it where it belonged while Bingo, grateful, bent down to kiss the prostitute.”) The author’s prose has its limitations; it can be clumsy and cliched, and a touch sentimental. (In an epilogue, Scott Gardiner—former radioman on Alpha-10, now an accounting professor in Massachusetts— reflects back on the war in a way that is unabashedly lachrymose.) Nevertheless, this is a remarkably meticulous account of the war experience and a keen exploration of the emotional challenges faced by men risking their lives for a cause they don’t understand.

A gripping account of naval combat during the Vietnam War.