David Gregory Bellavia was born on November 10, 1975, in Buffalo, New York—a Rust Belt crucible of cracked pavement and tight-fisted resolve. He was the youngest of four boys, raised in a working-class neighborhood. His father made his living as a dentist. His grandfather stormed the beaches of Normandy. You could say that David was born with service in his marrow. War stories were more than dinner table fare. They were scripture. And Bellavia, wide-eyed and hard-headed, took them like gospel.

He grew up in Waterport, New York, the kind of place where winter doesn’t knock—it breaks down your door and sticks with you six months out of the year. Young David studied biology and theater at the University at Buffalo, but the stage lights ended up clashing with the harsh glow of a

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