Jarhead: A Marine's Chronicle of the Gulf War and Other Battles Quotes

I have gone to war and now I can issue my complaint. I can sit on my porch and complain all day. And you must listen.

My despair is less despair than boredom and loneliness.

Every war is different. Every war is the same.

If while alive you hurt or disappoint people you love, there’s no use continuing such behavior when you’re dead.

If wars were fought only by the men on the ground, the men facing one another in real battle, most wars would end quickly and sensibly.

Our deployment is inevitable.

It occurred to me that we will never be young again.

At this point we know that the outcome of the conflict is less important for us--the men who will fight and die--than for the old white men and others who have billions of dollars to gain or lose in the oil fields.

It doesn’t matter how many Mr. and Mrs. Johnsons are anti war- the actuall killers who know how to use the weapons are not.

Now I often think of the first time I received artillery fire, and the subsequent obliteration of the enemy observation post. I’ll never know how many men manned the OP, but in memory I fix the number at two, and though at the time I was angry that the pompous captain took the handset from me and stole my kills, I have lately been thankful he insisted on calling the fire mission, and sometimes when I am feeling hopeful or even religious, I think that by taking my two kills the pompous captain handed me life, some extra moments of living for myself or that I can offer others, though I have no idea to use or disuse these extra moments, or if I’ve wasted them already.

When you fail, you disgrace yourself and others. When you succeed, be proud and others will be proud for you.

Men are smart and men are animals, in that they don’t want to die so simply for so little.

Some wars are unavoidable and need well be fought, but this doesn’t erase warfare’s waste. Sorry, we must say to the mothers whose son’s die horribly. This will never end. Sorry.

My combat action has commenced.

The true friend from war is the friend who obliterates his own story by telling the stories of others.

Our days consist of sand and water and sweat.

If he only spoke about it once, he wasn’t lying.

They embarrassed us with great thanks for having served overseas.

As I debark the plane, the oven heat of the Arabian Desert grips my throat.

There was no such thing as a private life, all lives were public.