Anthony Swofford's memoir Jarhead is an unusual combination of literate and foul-spirited. It has fewer action scenes than psychological musings on self-respect, lust, family, hatred, destruction, and self-destruction. In keeping with the introspective bent, it dispenses with following a strict chronology, interspersing episodes from both before and after the first Gulf War to put the author's life as a Marine into context. It will be interesting to see how Swofford's novel in the works will turn out, and whether will care to populate it with characters whose lives are not quite so far out on the edge, and whether he will take the story forward to touch something of the current Gulf War.
I am slightly surprised that according to imdb.com there isn't already a movie version of this in the works (a less kinetic version of Three Kings so to speak).
My little poem by the same name was written before I read the book, but around the same time I saw an interview with the author on CSPAN.