Kent Anderson is a Special Forces agent turned author. His work draws material from his days as a police officer and his time in Vietnam. Has drawn both praise and criticism for brutally honest depictions of war. Gritty veteran.
 

"'This magazine says we're kicking shit out of 'em. But now,' Hanson said, tapping the open magazine, 'what about the home front? They've got problems too. Take this young guy, a "Cornell Senior" it says  here, "I'm nervous as hell. I finally decide  on a field--economics--and then I find out I'm number fifty-nine in the draft lottery." Rough, huh? Just when he decided on economics.'

Hanson thumbed through the magazine, singing softly, '. . . My candy man, he's come an' gone. Mah candy man, he's come an' gone. An' I love ever'thing in this godomighty world, God knows I do . . .'

To the west a heavy machine gun was firing, the distant pounding as monotonous as an assembly-line machine. Artillery was  going in up north. Three guns working out. They were good, the rounds going in one on top of the other, each explosion like a quick violent wind, the sound your firestarter makes when you touch off the backyard charcoal grill. Normal night sounds."

— Kent Anderson, Sympathy for the Devil