The Red Book, or Operation Iraqi Freedom is My Fault

10407279_381490555351814_5243054953918097077_nBrandon Davis Jennings is an Operation Iraqi Freedom veteran from West Virginia, and there is no accomplishment he’s more proud of than that he was there at the beginning of the war, and that he was there when George W. Bush landed a jet on an aircraft carrier to signify and celebrate that our mission had been accomplished.

Brandon’s a third-generation veteran, and although his roots are buried in Appalachian soil, he’s lived most of his life elsewhere. He’s lived on both US coasts and in the north and the south, and now he and his wife Tina are plopped in South Bend, Indiana where she saves lives while he writes hundreds of pages a day (then, like Penelope, deletes them) and wrestles with his dogs Finn and Macha until the three of them are so tired that there is no option other than to nap on the living room floor: a tangle of canine and human limbs.

He has a bachelors in journalism from WVU, home of couches flaming in the middle of the street, and an MFA in fiction from Bowling Green State University: home of some bars where you can drink to pass the time when you are not sleeping. His PhD is from Western Michigan University, and he doesn’t often take time to thank God in public, but he thanks God regularly that he no longer has to sit in a classroom to fulfill any requirements that no one should be forced to fulfill: like, for instance, reading Henry James.

Brandon’s chapbook  Waiting for the Enemy, published by  Iron Horse Literary Review in 2012, has sold out multiple print runs and is now available on amazon digitally and will be until the Internet runs out of juice. He was the winner of the   Passages North Thomas J. Hrushka nonfiction competition in 2012, and a trophy on his mantle states that from 92-93 he was “Outsanding.”

Brandon hopes to have perfected the art of house-husbandry by 2016. And when he does, he might write a book about it. Unless Vladimir Putin kidnaps Michelle Obama. Then Brandon will be called to war, and likely die, a forgotten bloody heap despite being guided into combat by all the stories of heroes he’s read.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *