Here is what makes this book matter: it captures the voice of an entire generation of young men thrown into the machinery of war, finding solace in humor and the hope of their sweetheart's next letter. Edward Streeter, drawing on his own AEF experience, gives us Bill Smith, a rookie whose letters home are masterpieces of mortification and mirth. He chronicles the absurd realities of military life - the incomprehensible orders, the brutal weather, the endless tedium - all while trying to maintain some dignity before Mable. The letters swing between slapstick catastrophe and aching loneliness, between mocking his superiors and confessing his fears. Then comes the turn no reader expects: rumors of Mable's infidelity reach Bill, and the humor takes on a darker edge. The rookie's voice never wavers, but something in it has broken. This is WWI as lived by the ones who weren't generals - the ones who marched, froze, joked, and waited.
