Books like Backfire — picked by fans

I became an anthropologist by accident. I never liked school, but I loved to travel, and I got a PhD so that I could rail against development and the perils of cross-cultural misunderstanding in print. Naively, I thought maybe someone would listen. Luckily for me, I discovered I also liked teaching. I first taught at UCLA and then at the Naval Postgraduate School, where I had mostly mid-career U.S. and international special operations officers in class. More serendipity: my two decades at the Naval Postgraduate School bracketed the Global War on Terror, which unfortunately proved to be a witch’s brew of cross-cultural misunderstanding.  

I became an anthropologist by accident. I never liked school, but I loved to travel, and I got a PhD so that I could rail against development and the perils of cross-cultural misunderstanding in print. Naively, I thought maybe someone would listen. Luckily for me, I discovered I also liked teaching. I first taught at UCLA and then at the Naval Postgraduate School, where I had mostly mid-career U.S. and international special operations officers in class. More serendipity: my two decades at the Naval Postgraduate School bracketed the Global War on Terror, which unfortunately proved to be a witch’s brew of cross-cultural misunderstanding.  

I became an anthropologist by accident. I never liked school, but I loved to travel, and I got a PhD so that I could rail against development and the perils of cross-cultural misunderstanding in print. Naively, I thought maybe someone would listen. Luckily for me, I discovered I also liked teaching. I first taught at UCLA and then at the Naval Postgraduate School, where I had mostly mid-career U.S. and international special operations officers in class. More serendipity: my two decades at the Naval Postgraduate School bracketed the Global War on Terror, which unfortunately proved to be a witch’s brew of cross-cultural misunderstanding.  

I became an anthropologist by accident. I never liked school, but I loved to travel, and I got a PhD so that I could rail against development and the perils of cross-cultural misunderstanding in print. Naively, I thought maybe someone would listen. Luckily for me, I discovered I also liked teaching. I first taught at UCLA and then at the Naval Postgraduate School, where I had mostly mid-career U.S. and international special operations officers in class. More serendipity: my two decades at the Naval Postgraduate School bracketed the Global War on Terror, which unfortunately proved to be a witch’s brew of cross-cultural misunderstanding.  

I am a retired Army officer who served in a tank unit in Operation Desert Storm. After that war, I became convinced that the future of warfare looked more like America’s experience in Vietnam than like the war in which I had just fought. I taught at West Point and then served in another tank unit early in the war in Iraq before being sent to the Pentagon where I helped Generals David Petraeus and Jim Mattis write the Army and Marine Corps doctrine for counterinsurgency campaigns. I am now studying and teaching about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan as a professor at the U.S. Army War College.  

In the crucial period after the end of WW2 the stage became set for thirty years of war in Vietnam, yet there’s very little written of it. My stepfather was there, and Hanoi, Adieu is a memoir of his experiences and his sentiments about what happened in the country he’d grown to love. I have a fascination for Southeast Asian history and he was keen for me to tell his story such that readers could absorb the history through his book. I have recommended here those I enjoyed and found useful from a historical or atmospheric perspective in the larger context of French Indochina. I hope you will too.

I am a professional economist and econometrician with over 50 years of teaching and research experience. I've published articles in more than 200 international publications and been on the senior teaching staff of top U.S. and Asian universities. In recent years, I have also been interested in serious scholarly studies on developing economies in Asia and as an economic consultant to several Asian government ministries.

Who hasn’t seen the classic American movies on the Vietnam War–Apocalypse Now, The Deer Hunter, or Platoon? They are fine films, but have you ever asked yourself where the Vietnamese are? Save for a few stereotyped cameo appearances, they are remarkably absent. I teach the history of the wars in Vietnam at the Université du Québec à Montréal. My students and I explore the French and the American sides in the wars for Vietnam, but one of the things that I’ve tried to do with them is weave the Vietnamese and their voices into our course; this list provides a window into those Vietnamese voices. 

As someone who served in Iraq with the Army in 2004, I have been inspired and—in many ways—saved by the work of these American veterans who wrote before me. In their work, they showed me a path in which to write and live. While I would love to list more books, these are the ones that I’ve been going back to most recently. Beyond simply capturing “war,” all of these writers reckon with mortality, loss, longing, and love. 

Living through the Iraq War compelled me to honestly challenge who I was, what I had believed in, and reshape who I am. One aspect to emerge from that is the belief that there is no good war. War is the worst of all endeavors, born from fundamentally weak minds that are blind to imagination and vision. But while I have had a passion for writing about war and speaking out against it, I feel it’s important for people to look beyond my work as just another veteran writing just another war book. In both of my books, the war is a character more than anything else.