Peruvian novelist Mario Vargas Llosa reports from Iraq: "They [US soldiers] were all pouring sweat, eyeballs perpetually moving, like distrustful grasshoppers. But Morgana, my daughter, succeeded in conversing on a more personal level with a soldier of Mexican origin who suddenly opened his heart from atop his tank: 'I've had it! I've been here for three months and I cannot stand it any longer! I ask myself what the hell I'm doing here every day! This morning they killed two buddies. I can't wait to go back to my wife and child, damn it!'"

Peruvian novelist Mario Vargas Llosa reports from Iraq: "They [US soldiers] were all pouring sweat, eyeballs perpetually moving, like distrustful grasshoppers. But Morgana, my daughter, succeeded in conversing on a more personal level with a soldier of Mexican origin who suddenly opened his heart from atop his tank: 'I've had it! I've been here for three months and I cannot stand it any longer! I ask myself what the hell I'm doing here every day! This morning they killed two buddies. I can't wait to go back to my wife and child, damn it!'"