nathaniel-fick

crosscountrycourier  asked:

Hey! You wouldn't happen to know where I could find that picture of Stark and Nate together would you? I figured if there was anyone to ask first, It'd be you. Thanks for the fantastic blog!

Thank you, glad you like the blog!

Is this the pic you are looking for? 

Stark Sands about their meeting:  

Have you met your character, Lieutenant Nate Fick, in person? 

Just recently. It’s weird, but not only do we physically resemble each other, but a lot of our mannerisms are the same — to the point that we were sitting around a table with the real Tony Espera and the real Ray Person, the real Evan Stafford, these guys that were in his platoon for real, and these guys were watching us with their jaws dropped. People were taking pictures of us from across the table just so they could show us how similar we acted.

He’s one of the few commanding officers who seemed to have the respect of his men. 
It’s funny. Over the months in Africa [where we were shooting], you sort of take on the characteristics and qualities and ideals of the character you’re playing, even off set. When we’d take weekend trips to Cape Town and some shit went down and people were about to get in a fight, either with each other or with someone else, I found myself stepping in and fixing it. 

In the driver’s seat of Colbert’s Humvee, Person was singing.

“One, two, three, four, what the fuck are we fighting for?”

“You have to answer that for yourself,” I said as I crouched against the fender, scanning with my binoculars.

“Well, sir,” Person said, turning in the seat to face me, oblivious to the fight all around him, “I guess I’m fighting for cheap gas and a world without ragheads blowing up our fucking buildings.”

“Good to know you’re such an idealist.”

“That world sounds pretty ideal to me right about now.”

—  One Bullet Away by Nathaniel Fick
  • Nate: The good news is I’m told they’ve fixed it.
  • Garza: Really?
  • Nate: Yes, you won. Nice work. now you can walk away tall.
  • Garza: Thank you. I just–
  • Nate: Walk away…tall.
  • Wynn: I think he’s telling you to walk away. But tall.
  • Garza: Oh, right.Nate: The good news is I’m told they’ve fixed it.
  • Garza: Really?
  • Nate: Yes, you won. Nice work. now you can walk away tall.
  • Garza: Thank you. I just–
  • Nate: Walk away…tall.
  • Wynn: I think he’s telling you to walk away. But tall.
  • Garza: Oh, right.

Mr. Fick, a Dartmouth graduate who applied to graduate school after leaving the Marines, describes getting a call from an admissions officer.

“ ‘Mr. Fick, we read your application and liked it very much. But a member of our committee read Evan Wright’s story about your platoon in Rolling Stone. You’re quoted as saying, “The bad news is, we won’t get much sleep tonight; the good news is, we get to kill people.” ‘ She paused, as if waiting for me to disavow the quote. I was silent, and she went on …. ‘Could you please explain your quote for me?’ …

‘You mean, will I climb your clock tower and pick people off with a hunting rifle?’

It was her turn to be silent.

‘No, I will not. Do I feel compelled to explain myself to you? I don’t.’ ”

I went to Dartmouth intending to go to med school. Failing at chemistry class had inspired my love of history, and I ended up majoring in the classics. By the summer of 1998, my classmates were signing six-figure contracts as consultants and investment bankers. I didn’t understand what we, at age twenty-two, could possibly be consulted about. Others headed off to law school or medical school for a few more years of reading instead of living. None of it appealed to me. I wanted to go on a great adventure, to prove myself to serve my country. I wanted to do something so hard that no one could ever talk shit to me. In Athens or Sparta, my decision would have been easy. I felt as if I had been born too late. There was no longer a place in the world for a young man who wanted to wear armor and slay dragons.


Dartmouth encouraged deviation from the trampled path, but only to organizations like the Peace Corps or Teach for America. I wanted something more transformative. Something that might kill me – or leave me better, stronger, more capable. I wanted to be a warrior.

—  One Bullet Away by Nathaniel Fick