Every day I worry about writing a story that will get me sued or land me before a federal judge demanding to know who was my source close to the investigation.

This is a real concern, given the current legal climate, a pitfall that could affect my professional future.

But last week, I talked to a guy just like me, young, college educated, gainfully employed, who isn't planning for a lot past February.

February is when Lt. Chris Kim, a 24-year-old East Asian history major from the University of California San Diego, will lead 50 U.S. Marines on a Persian Gulf deployment.

A graduate of the Marine Corps Officer Candidate School, in Quantico, Va., Kim and his men will sit on a ship, awaiting insertion into a trouble spot in Iraq.

Kim has never been in combat, but he's always wanted to serve.

He tried to get into West Point but couldn't, so he joined the Marine Corps ROTC program upon enrolling at UCSD, in 1999. Through high school and college, Kim admits, he was pretty hard-nosed with a "little punk" in him.

"All you fantasized about was being a commando and going to war," he said.

Shortly after graduating from Quantico, the war with Iraq became more than a proving ground for Kim. It became a reality that he still isn't sure he's prepared for.

J.P. Blecksmith, a fellow officer, had been a friend of Kim's since the seventh grade. He played quarterback in high school while Kim blocked on the offensive line.

Blecksmith was shot and killed in a firefight in Fallujah.

Blecksmith was pointing to a window in a building where an insurgent was firing on another platoon when the officer was shot in the shoulder, splintering the bone and sending a fragment through his heart.

There is a chance Kim's Marine Expeditionary Unit could be sent elsewhere.

He projects indifference, but admits to being confused.

Some days, he wants to get over there and get after it. Other days, he thinks of his family and his friends.

He speaks differently of death, saying it lingers, always at the back of his mind.

"A lot of us will joke about it just to try and ... I don't know," he said. "You always wonder whether or not you're prepared. Am I going to get Marines killed if I make decisions? Am I going to be able to perform my job under those conditions?"

Kim knew I didn't have the answers. He knew that I, along with most people our age, couldn't grasp the responsibility and magnitude of his situation.

In that light, my career worries seemed petty.