The man of war is always in good humor. He smiles when asked about battle and is never shy to talk of the horrors of war. As a photographer and a soldier, he tries to use his camera more often than his gun and says his pictures can be more valuable to his leaders than a dead enemy.

I drank with the man of war recently when he was on a short leave, and it was a good time. Combat photographers have wild minds – not only do they see fights as they happen, but afterwards as well, and doesn’t mind carnage. He has the ace of spades tattooed on his right arm with the number nine inside. “What does it mean?” I asked him.”Kills,” he said. He grinned big. “Nine of ‘em. A buddy of mine put this on for me. Looks good, huh?” He will get a new tattoo after his next engagement. I’m not sure if he was serious, but the way he said it, it doesn’t matter; some things are like that.

The man of war was in Baghdad ahead of the full invasion. He raided houses with a team whose duty was to kidnap Iraqi officials. If they resisted, they were shot, and photos were taken in the process. He left the military and after a short, unsuccessful stint in civilian life, he re-enlisted and was well rewarded. He also helped train Iraqi soldiers.

“They have no aim,” he told me. “They close their eyes and say a prayer. They really think if they ask, God will guide their bullets into another person’s body.” Imagine that – bullets with butterfly wings.

The man of war will return to America soon – the only war he’ll fight will be through video games, which he’ll do for hours, only stopping to grab a beer and relieve himself.

This is a glimpse into the life and education of one man of war in our great society. He could be a college graduate, but he chose war as his educator. The contrast between his education and ours is very interesting. There are currently 160,000 American soldiers in Iraq, and though many are older, many are our age. Some are not “book smart,” but many more could have flourished in a university setting.

Instead they flourished in war, bright youthful minds turned old, hard and mean by the brutal reality of every day and every footstep offering a chance at death – or brain damage, the loss of a limb or a friend. The slaughter works both ways – the chance to kill, to come home with a tattoo, real or mental, of the number of souls sent to heaven or to hell. Few people mention men of war, or even war at all. Without their voluntary service there would be a draft, and many wouldn’t be enjoying learning, sex, beer, peace and so forth.

It’s a shame, but I’m happy the man of war exists.

- Dale Hackler is a senior from Lawrenceville majoring in German.