(Disclaimer: I wrote and published this a year ago, in my old blog. While I'm not wild about recycling news, this one still holds true. And it will continue to hold true as long as we're in Iraq - or as long as there is such a thing as war. This is one man's story, but it's also the story of many other men and women.)

"It's another goddamned Vietnam."

This isn't a political pundit or idealistic protester speaking, but a Marine who returned from a hitch in Iraq a few weeks ago.

He's probably in his mid-20s, and had been drinking. I could smell it when he got into the cab. He probably said more than he planned to. Alcohol is the great social icebreaker.

He'd done a tour in both Afghanistan and in Iraq. On the whole, he'd rather be in Philadelphia.

"Iraq is a hellhole," he said. "A real hellhole. Afghanistan was a cakewalk by comparison."

Politically, the place is way beyond unstable, and our troops are doing things that are out of their league.

"Our soldiers are doing police work over there," he says. "We're not trained for that."

Like in Vietnam, our troops are fighting an increasingly unpopular war, and facing a brand of warfare they're not prepared for.

"We're not trained for guerilla warfare," he says flatly. "We're trained to see 'em, shoot 'em. So many of our guys - good people - were blown to bits before they could even pull the trigger.

"I'm lucky ... damned lucky to be sitting here."

For all of the Bush Administration's efforts to build a democracy, all has come to naught. Less than naught, he says - things have gone downhill since America's involvement.

"Saddam tortured a lot of people, but he at least ..."

"Kept order?" I prompted.

"Yes," he said. "Kept order."

The Bush effort in Iraq was slammed - and rightly so - by a recent commission report headed by luminaries such as James Baker, Lee Hamilton, Sandra Day O'Connor, Edwin Meese, and Vernon Jordan. While I'm no great fan of such commissions (and this one seemed to be a political Over-The-Hill gang), this one came up with some interesting scenarios and recommendations. To stay the course would eventually cost us many years and more than a trillion dollars. A trillion! With the exception of the old display (since torn down) in the foyer of Benny Binion's Horseshoe Casino in Las Vegas, I don't even know what a million dollars looks like. I have trouble comprehending a billion, let alone a trillion. Doing some simple math (after finding a calculator that would hold this many digits), though, if you divide a trillion by 300 million (that's the number of people in the United States), that's $3,333 that every man, woman, and child would end up paying for the war effort. Round these people up into households of three people (and admittedly there's a lot of blue sky in this numbers-crunching), that's $10,000 per "household." I'm definitely winging it on these numbers, but that's still a hell of a lot of dollars going into what is fast becoming a losing cause.

No telling how long we'll be entangled in Iraq, and - at least for the moment - my passenger seemed beyond caring. He's much too young to be so cynical, but even that comes with the territory. He reminded me of a young version of many Vietnam vets I've talked to, still haunted by what they'd seen and done after so many years. I've talked to so many who have made up their own coping mechanisms as they went along, and sometimes not healthy ones at that. My passenger admits he drinks too much.

He's got plans, though. He's wanting to see the country he's been defending. He's struck that, as a South Carolina product, he's seen plenty of Iraq and Afghanistan, but not enough of his homeland.

"I'm going to be driving cross country, with a buddy," he says. "Have you ever read 'Blue Highways?' "

I have, and it's an excellent book. A guy named William Least Heat Moon wrote it. Upshot was the writer found life rapidly going south on him, so he threw a few items in his van and drove. Took back roads (explaining that on old road maps, interstates were shown in red and the little two-lane highways in blue), and did what bikers call a "four-corners" trip around the country - down the southeast Atlantic coast, west across the Southern states and into the Southwest, up the Pacific Coast, across the northern half of the country, back down the northeast coast, and back home to St. Louis. He visited Nameless, Tennessee to find out how it got its name. Went into Selma, Alabama for a history lesson. To Lafayette, Louisiana to hear some "chanky-chank" (Cajun music). To a Hopi reservation to learn about their unique belief system (Least Heat Moon's father is full blooded Native American).

My passenger also wants to through-hike the Appalachian Trail, and we discussed the best way to do it without catching winter. He expects the trip to take six months. But he wants to see his country.

I wish him well. One of the great unspoken costs of the Vietnam War was all the young men who had ... changed ... after coming back. Folks still living in a nightmare that can only come from fighting an unnecessary war that they were not really prepared or properly trained for. Looks like we're seeing that again in Iraq.