About the only thing that makes this graphic novel a western
is the word Apache; regardless, I loved it.
It has some of my favorite story elements:
· A main character who doesn’t fit well among other people
· A vast wilderness
· Shit exploding
We follow Ernie, a US Army forward observer in the Vietnam
War, who much prefers to be out in the jungle away from people calling in
airstrikes (the eponymous “Apache Delivery Service”, although Ernie is Dine /
Navajo) rather than dealing with racist ass hats at the base. While out on a long solo scout he runs into
an out of place by about 15 years French colonial, who enlists him to help find
some buried Nazi treasure. The treasure
is, of course, in a mountainous area that may or may not be haunted but is
certainly filled with Viet Cong. Paranoia
and mayhem ensues.
The story zips along, the artwork of the jungles and
mountains are lush, the main character reminds me of the quiet, reflective
moments of Zen that Larry Hama tucked away in GI Joe back in my childhood. Fantastic read.
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