If you’ve ever gotten drunk with a war vet and seen him suddenly bust into tears while recounting a wartime experience then you probably realize that the salient thing about war is that if you haven’t experienced it first hand there’s no way to understand it, really.

Really conveying war via theatrical performance is a particularly tough nut. Tracers, the current Juggerknot Theatre Company production of the Vietnam War drama by John DiFusco comes about as close as you’re liable to get thanks to primo lighting by Eric Nelson, the richly complex sound design of Joe Pisciotta and, especially, a terrific cast directed by Andy Quiroga, who imbues the whole effort with the same depth and no b.s. reality of his work as an actor. The intimate black box space of P.S. 742 becomes, to a remarkable extent, the inner and outer landscape of war, Viet Nam variety.

Melding choral interludes, nighttime patrols and chopper rides, spot-lit monologues and downtime vignettes, Tracers roughly follows the format of Kubrik’s Full Metal Jacket: we follow a group of green recruits from basic training through their tour in Nam. Tracers adds insights on the after-effects of war and its emotional scars as well. The intimacy of the performance space – the audience sits along either side of the rectangular performing area with the action playing out between them – imparts immediacy and visceral engagement, a definite “in country” feel. 

Gregg Weiner is powerful and convincing as drill sergeant Williams, relentless in his endeavor of turning his “maggots” into warriors. Impressively, he imparts considerable humanity to the part, rather than taking the obvious route of playing Williams as merely a sadistic brute.

David Perez-Ribada enlivens the deep-thinking, bookish “Professor” via his forceful presence, palpable intelligence and powerful vocal skills. Russell Kerr lends a subtle depth to “Doc,” the complex medic who, we later learn, commits suicide.

If a bit busy and self-conscious of his effects, Andrio Chavarro uses his comedic skills and considerable charisma to give us an engaging Dinky Dau, ever hungry both physically and emotionally.

Derek Warriner’s confident command of the stage and natural presence make his portrayal of the straight-laced Little John an anchor for the whole, despite his being a tad rough around the edges technique-wise at times.

Steve Russo brings a breezy interest and freshness to Scooter, one of the less fleshed out parts. Seth Maisel is effective if somewhat opaque in the much more developed part of Baby San, the pint-sized computer operator who’s thrust into a combat unit after a spat a superior in Saigon. Kristoff Skälet lends an off-beat groundedness to Habu, the black activist from the West Side of Chicago who morphs into a career military man in the crucible of combat.

But, as in war itself, it’s the cohesiveness, emotional commitment and energy level of the ensemble work that really distinguishes this production and makes it such a unique and compelling theatrical experience. Quiroga has fashioned a band of brothers in a very real sense, and when it’s all over we feel like we’ve been through it, too – or as close as us maggots are ever likely to get.