As civilization slowly unravels, it's hard not to wonder — is civil war possible?  Some Keyboard Warriors cheer it on, but they should be careful what they wish for.  That's how I feel after reading James Tarr's Dogsoldiers.

Jason is a 16-year-old wannabe rebel.  He's too young to remember America before the war, but he knows evil when he sees it.  He sets out to join the Resistance and finds a place in a ragtag Squad known as Theodore.  The men aren't what he expected.  They're beaten, withered, and old.  More like starving refugees than soldiers.  We hear backstories: an accountant, a plumber, a truck driver, an insurance man.  In civil war, you get whom you get.

But looks (and backstories) are deceiving.  The men are tough, and they've got the survival instinct.  That's important, because the Army has a price on their heads and a vastly superior arsenal, including tanks and air assets.  The wretched conditions weed out the infirm.  There are no gender studies majors and no diversity consultants.

A week into Jason's tenure, the Squad embarks on a behind-enemy-lines mission.  Some say a suicide mission.  They trek through decaying neighborhoods and waning civilization.  They encounter high-trust communities (strangers not welcome) and crazed lone wolves surviving by wit and guile and occasional cannibalism.  Everywhere, we're reminded — America was once a real country with ballparks, pools, and ice rinks.

Sporting a motley array of weaponry and burdened with heavy packs, they hop fences and sneak among abandoned houses.  Danger lurks at every turn.  Everywhere is a combat zone.  Finally, they make their assault on the infamous Blue Zone, where government functionaries and Army Brass enjoy a semblance of life.  Here, residents enjoy power, water, and pretending there's not a savage war raging.  Here, there are also informants, a key element of the Squad's master plan.

Forget grandeur and glory.  Tarr delivers civil war reality — it's Hell on Earth.  Food, water, and ammo are king.  Starvation and violent death are constant threats.  The men reflect on how we got here.  We hear of gun bans, curfews, and martial law.  Before long, troublemakers started disappearing.  The boot was firmly on the people's neck.

But the government didn't count on stubborn resistance — desertions, defections, and sabotage.  Suddenly, it seemed everyone had a gun and a desperate willingness to attack authority.  When militias began forming, people were forced to choose a side.  Carefully, because the government was ruthless, and choosing to resist was treacherous.  Also, a massive leap for anyone who, until that point, had led a lawful life.

We get a crash course in urban guerrilla warfare, and Jason morphs from innocent teen to jaded warrior, schooled by terror and loss.  There's no time to grieve the fallen.  Instead, the men use the horrors to stoke white-hot hatred for the enemy.

My lone criticism of Dogsoldiers is the lack of race realism.  There's mention of good ol' American Race Riots, but not much else.  Blacks and whites co-exist on both sides.  Perhaps civil war would wash over racial hostility.  Perhaps divisions would shift from racial to political.  I'm not so sure as I witness today's festering anti-white hatred.  In multiracial societies, as with prisons, race seems to be the primary dividing force.

Nonetheless, Dogsoldiers is entertaining and highly poignant.  We see exactly how diabolical people can be when they're determined to kill an enemy.  People die in this book.  Lots of people.  Tarr displays Clancy-esque knowledge of weapons and all things military, including near-future weapons.  The prose is tight, the pace breakneck, and Tarr's rapid POV changes, at first jarring, ultimately work well with the nonstop action.

Is Dogsoldiers cautionary tale or depiction of the inevitable?  How did America go from middle-class paradise to war-torn hellhole in a few short decades?  If you've ever wondered about the dangers of gun confiscation, this book is for you.  As the saying goes, you can vote your way into communism, but you have to shoot your way out.

Ultimately, Tarr dispels all romantic notions of war except one, which is the credo of every dogsoldier: "I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees."

K.M. Breakey is the author of Shout the Battle Cry of Freedom and six other novels.  He can be reached at km @ kmbreakey.com.

Image: James Tarr.