Publisher's Weekly Review
Williams's account of her Iraq service tries very hard to be a fresh and wised-up postfeminist take: Private Benjamin by way of G.I. Jane. Showy rough language peppers every paragraph, and Williams's obsessive self-concern, expressed in a lot of one-sentence paragraphs beginning with "I," verges on the narcissistic. The surprise is the degree to which the account succeeds and even echoes military memoirists from Julius Caesar to Ernie Pyle. The fear, bad weather, intermittent supplies, inedible meals (especially for the vegetarian author) and crushing boredom of life in the field are all here. Williams's particular strength is in putting an observant, distaff spin on the bantering and brutality of barracks life, where kids from the Survivor generation must come to terms with a grim and confusing reality over which they have little control. The differences are less in the sexual dynamics (which mostly are an extension of office politics) than the contradictions of the conflict in which the troops are engaged, which Williams embodies more than illuminates. She learns Arabic; there's a Palestinian boyfriend and a short, failed marriage during her state-side training. While an ex-punk, Chomsky-reading liberal, Williams questions the day-to-day conduct of the war without ever really engaging with its underlying rationale. Such nuance, though, might be too much to ask. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Guardian Review
"The sight of a battlefield," the journalist EL Godkin once remarked, "is one of the most awful lessons in international ethics which a civilised man can receive." This sharp insider account of military life from basic training to Baghdad, Mosul and a remote outpost on the Syrian border reveals the ethical impasse facing the 15% of the US military that is female, bringing home what it feels like to be a woman at peace and in war, "awash in a sea of nervy, hyped up guys" who assign their female colleagues to two basic categories: "slut" or "bitch". Williams tells of the terror, the mind-numbing tedium, suicidal periods, anorexic impulses, promiscuity, incompetence, comradeship and her love for her M-4 in sassy, hard-nosed prose that sets little store in self-pity or justification. Witness to frequent disregard for human life and foreign cultures, she is not afraid to question her own culpability when it comes to crossing the line. It is depressing, though, to learn how much those who are self-critical and humane remain mesmerised by the military machine and fail to file a complaint or blow the whistle. Caption: article-be10.1 "The sight of a battlefield," the journalist EL Godkin once remarked, "is one of the most awful lessons in international ethics which a civilised man can receive." - Aimee Shalan.
Booklist Review
Whip smart, sassy, with a mouth as foul as a sailor's, 28-year-old Sergeant Kayla Williams, who has served as an Arabic interpreter in the U.S. Army since late spring 2000, tells what it's like to be a female soldier in Iraq. The best description might be contradictory. Williams shares the humiliation she feels before her male army brethren, while admitting she enjoys the perks of being female in the military. She's ferociously loyal to her country and her unit but blisteringly critical of military ineptitude by those above and around her. She conveys stretches of mind-numbing boredom punctuated by the horrific realities of war. And she's only too aware of the complicated requirements of occupation: We're here to help you! she writes. Oh, and shoot you--if we feel it's necessary. There are gaps in the story--for example, Williams doesn't entirely explain why she enlisted--but that's only one reason why this highly readable account will leave readers wanting more. Stay tuned, as Williams is on call--Inactive Ready Reserve (IRR)--until 2008. --Alan Moores Copyright 2005 Booklist
Library Journal Review
Why Williams joined the army, how she came to learn Arabic, and what it was like to serve in Iraq, where she was shocked to find herself swinging her gun toward an Iraqi child. With an eight-city tour. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
