There are many great heroic tales captured by book, film or the hand-me-down oral traditions told at the local V.F.W. of bravery and sacrifice from the common men of America's "Greatest Generation" in its greatest test, World War II. But, Nick Arvin's first novel, Articles of War, spins a different story hung on a familiar background. One of a farm boy enlistee, good with a rifle, willing to take orders, who, once shipped off to France to fight the Germans, confronts not the enemy, but his own cowardice and deserter tendencies instead.

Articles of War is the sparsely written story of George Tilson nicknamed, Heck, in boot camp for his loath of curse words. He enlists in the Army like so many of his generation does, because he feels it is the right thing to do, for God, for Country. However, when Heck and his training regimen arrive in France just after D-Day to the bustling, bureaucratic outpost at Omaha Beach, a certain fear gnaws at his insides when he realizes Patriotism will not protect him from German bullets.

At Omaha, he tentatively awaits assignment to a full time unit. Heck watches with little envy as most of the men from boot camp are gone to the front within a day or two. Weeks go by and still Heck has no assignment, forgotten in the bustle and bureaucracy of the outpost. Heck, engaged in an ongoing internal battle with his dreaded fear, takes long, meditative walks away from the fort trying to stay under the radar of the C.O.'s because, "Heck could not wait to be sent forward and he dreaded being sent forward: the two emotions alternated and on occasion commingled into a single, piercing physical ache. He tried to listen only to his ennui and to have no other feeling."

It is on these long walks that he meets Clair, a plain, yet somehow attractive French refugee and her family, camped out in a broken down cabin in the woods. Despite the awkward language barrier, a mutual affection develops over an impromptu lunch and they spend one evening together snuggling in a cave by the shore. Although Heck is shipped out the next day, and he will probably never see Clair again, Mr. Arvin weaves Heck's na•ve musings on his first love throughout the desolate and often bitter plot in a tender, yet realistic way serving as much needed relief from the accurate brutalities of war torn Europe.

Once to the front, Heck's fears of cowardice are realized in his first battle. During a bombardment, he freezes, hiding in a small hole unable to follow his unit in their attack of an overrun provincial French town. He cowers all night, until the bombing stops before getting out of the ditch, stumbling around the empty, corpse ridden battlefield, unsure whether he is even alive until a thought hits him; he's lost his unit.

Heck knows they shoot deserters. But yet, he does nothing, contenting himself with his aliveness, even refusing to reveal himself to a passing column of American tanks.

The column passed by and out of sight, and he felt relieved when he seemed to be alone again... In his mind he was still trying to assimilate events of the night before. The sensation and the echo of his terror would not leave him, kept returning him to the darkness, the explosions and wrath, the sound of howling, Anthony shouting at him to move out.

Lacking even the bravery to go AWOL, Heck rejoins the men of his unit, but is set to avoid battle at all costs, including inviting physical harm to his person. He allows himself to be shot in the arm by a German and another time, "stumbles" down some stairs injuring his leg. During each convalescence, Heck does his best to avoid being detected as healed in order to remain in the infirmaries, even as guilt rises from the simple fact that he's taking resources from other, more severely wounded G.I.'s. It is only when Heck is assigned to a firing squad ordered to execute a fellow G.I. for desertion, that the gravity of Heck's internal situation takes hold. Can Heck, faced with the embodiment of his own tendencies; shoot the man for a crime Heck doesn't even have the courage to commit?

It is apparent from the first page that Mr. Arvin has his ear tuned to the not only the sparse, meandering thoughts of a young man, but also something many ex-soldiers call, "war time" where days and often weeks can pass without a single emotion or thought, only to be countered by a singular, obsessive, silly detail replaying over and over such as the fate of chocolate bar or a whimpering, lost dog. Mr. Arvin writes his prose in the brief, gruff manner of dirty, hungry and terrified men sent far from their homes to kill other dirty, hungry and terrified men. The big secret, of course, one nearly every soldier keeps to himself, is that fear on the battlefield is everywhere. It is good, it is right and it is something Heck realizes painfully, yet beautifully in Mr. Arvin's writing,

A minute later a man beside him asked, "Are you afraid?"

...Heck failed to respond. Pockets of orange light flickered on the horizon, and the corresponding percussion arrived several seconds after. An elbow nudged him and the question was repeated, "Are you afraid?"

The voice spoke softly, but even so Heck was not certain that the others in the truck could not hear. He said, "No, I'm not."

"I am," said the voice, rising slightly in pitch. The truck shuddered through a rapid series of potholes. "I'm glad I am. As long as I'm afraid, I'm still alive." The body beside Heck shifted slightly. "How come you're not afraid?"

Heck felt irritated and at first he was not going to answer, but suddenly he conceded, in a rush, "I guess I am a little."

"You sure?"

"I guess."