by Heath Hansen I looked up into the big, blue sky. Far in the distance, I spotted a C-130 Hercules headed towards the open grass field I waited in. For a few moments, I watched as the plane continued in my direction. Suddenly, from the tail-end of the aircraft, paratroopers …

by Heath Hansen March 2006. My tour was over. I had survived. No more fire-fights. No more IED’s. No more raids. No more rocket-attacks. I was going home. Many servicemen spend time in-country without ever leaving “the wire.” As an infantryman, I basically lived outside the wire. Being shot at, …

by Heath Hansen “I sent the grids; we’ll be heading out by noon on Thursday,” Tim Foley informs me over the phone, before I hit the road. Foley is a grizzled former paratrooper of the 82nd Airborne Division, and leader of the volunteer group Arizona Border Recon (AZBR). For more than a …

Book Review by Heath Hansen John Lechner’s Death is Our Business is an intense, no holds barred journey through the history of the most notorious Private Military Companies (PMC) in the world. Yevgeny Prigozhin, once a small time criminal, selling hot-dogs on a street corner and in time growing his …

by Heath Hansen It was 0530 hours the morning our first sergeant kicked open the door to our tent, and told us to “get the fuck outside and form it up!” Late the previous night, we returned to base from a 10-day mission in Afghanistan. I could see through a …

COMMENTARY by Susan Katz Keating The work has been called the most dangerous form of journalism. Amid my daily influx of emails, text messages, and phone calls, I frequently am hit up by people who want to go downrange under my name. They approach me with variants on the following actual …

By Heath Hansen Wedged between rocks, I scan with my binoculars and notice a bunker complex built into the top of theopposite hill. I keep observing and see three men, wearing green fatigues, walking between eachfighting position. All three are armed with AK-47’s. That isn’t Afghanistan. It’s Mexico. I had …

PFC Heath Hansen receiving the Combat Infantryman Badge in Afghanistan. By Heath Hansen I opened my eyes. It was still dark, but I could see the night was ending and another day in some village in Afghanistan was beginning. The smell of dip-spit and cigarette smoke betrayed the fact that the …

by David Nelson, The War Horse I woke up early on the morning of Dec. 6, 1972, to pack and say tearful goodbyes to my wife, Martie, and our one-year-old daughter, Amy. We’d decided ahead of time that my father-in-law “Pop” Lowry would drive me from Temple, Texas, to Love …

by Heath HansenIt’s a gray, cold, and windy autumn day as I arrive and step out of my vehicle. The snow is beginning to stick to the North Brabant earth under my feet as I approach the house. A man opens the door, shakes my hand, and welcomes me into …