As Webberley and Smith strolled the hilltop, the young corporal -- described by Smith as carrying a 9mm pistol and K-Bar fighting knife with a carved wood handle -- uttered the words quoted earlier.
The difference in attitude and purpose between a Beauchamp and a Webberley doesn't require elaboration. Cynics might argue that a 23-year-old doesn't know what he's doing, that he's a brainwashed pawn of a corrupt and ill-fated mission. Some also might mention that Beauchamp, in reporting the dark side of war -- assuming that what he has written is true -- is providing a necessary service far nobler than mere military submission.
They would be wrong about Beauchamp. Reporting truth is a noble mission -- that much is indisputable -- but victory belongs to the Webberleys of the world, not the Beauchamps. No one is insisting that only sanitized, "happy" news be funneled out of Iraq. Nor is anyone who has read history surprised that some troops behave badly in war. Gallows humor, which constitutes the bulk of Beauchamp's missives, is above all a survival mechanism in the midst of horror.
The news isn't that one soldier made fun of a disfigured woman -- or that another danced around with a piece of a child's skull on his head, as Beauchamp reported. The news is that more soldiers don't do far worse.
A few have, of course, but the vast majority of servicemen and women in Iraq conform to the kind of can-do attitude, loyalty and commitment articulated by Webberley. Thanks to brave journalists like Smith, we get to hear about them, too.