Army Spc. William Timothy Dix, 32, Culver City

William “Timmy” Dix grew up hard, living off welfare in a small trailer with his mother and brother.

Life offered few options in South Hill, Va., two hours west of Virginia Beach. After graduating from Park View High School in 1993, Dix worked at Pizza Hut for a time. He skateboarded, listened to Cypress Hill and Green Day, and dreamed of faraway places.

“We’d been waiting to go to California our whole lives,” said Christopher Dix, who is four years younger than his brother. “Our only way out was to join the Marines.”

So the Dix brothers both signed up and made it to California. Timmy went to Camp Pendleton in 1996. Christopher followed, ending up at Twentynine Palms.

Timmy Dix spent his four years doing “WestPac” tours, shipping out to a distant base and working his way back with stops at exotic places: Hong Kong, Singapore, Thailand, Bahrain, Qatar.

It was on these travels that friends learned of Dix’s unusual habit: Wherever he went, he would send home photographs of road signs. No people. No scenic view. Just a sign naming his current location.

“He was taking pictures of his life,” his brother said, “showing that he came from nothing and now he’s been around the world.”

When his tour with the Marines ended in 2000, Dix settled in Los Angeles and made a go at civilian life. He worked at Barnes & Noble in Westwood and started taking classes at Santa Monica City College. He rented an apartment in Westwood and, later, in Culver City and drove around in his beat-up burgundy Nissan 300ZX.

Dix was frugal but struggled to save money, said his older sister, Stephanie, who left home when she was in her teens. His only splurges were clothing -- khakis and a nice dress shirt were like a civilian uniform for him -- and electronics to play the hip hop and techno he had come to embrace in California.

Stephanie lived in Los Angeles at the same time, and the two got to know each other as adults for the first time.

Over dinner at his sister’s house, they drank and laughed about their childhood back in South Hill -- about the time Stephanie cut his head with a can of Pringles, or how he smothered her during pillow fights, which Stephanie swears to this day is why she’s claustrophobic.

But Dix found civilian life hard; after three years in a big city, he was still scraping by.

To make a few extra bucks, he signed up for the Army Reserves; he thought it would be easier than the Marines, his brother recalled. On the paperwork, Dix listed his hometown as Culver City. A few months later, he signed up for active duty.

In late 2004, his battalion was sent to Iraq. As a private first class with the “Rugged Brothers” -- the 14th Engineer Battalion, 555th Engineer Brigade, I Corps based at Ft. Lewis, Wash. -- Dix had the job of driving Iraq’s roads, spotting and disarming improvised explosive devices. His work saved countless lives, his battalion mates later said.

It would be his last tour, Dix told his brother. The two talked about getting a house together back in California, maybe going into real estate.

But months later, Dix decided to sign up for six more years. The Army had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse: reenlist in a war zone and get a $20,000 tax-free bonus.

“My brother was all about coming up, same as me,” Christopher said.

Dix’s fellow battalion members remember his sense of humor and upbeat spirit, no matter what the circumstances.

During down time, he could inevitably be found wearing headphones and flailing away to some silent rhythm in his bunk area, Capt. Cobey Warren recalled in Dix’s eulogy.

“When I asked him why he danced so much, he just said with that big smile of his, ‘That’s how we roll in Cali,’ ” Warren said, according to remarks released by Ft. Lewis.

On April 27, Dix and his battalion were at Camp Boering, Kuwait, awaiting deployment to Iraq later that day.

Dix missed the 8 a.m. muster. The Army told his brother that his body was found two hours later, alone next to his service rifle.

At services in Dix’s honor, his superiors said he had taken his own life.

“Why he did it, we do not know,” said Lt. Col. Pete Hemlinger during a memorial service in Kuwait, according to a copy of his statement released by Ft. Lewis. “Beneath his quiet and well-intentioned demeanor, he was fighting an inner battle. About what, we may never know.” Dix’s death remains under investigation.

In the meantime, his family is still looking for answers.

“M-16s go off all the time,” Stephanie said. “Who’s to say he wasn’t stomping bugs and it went off?”

“He wouldn’t do something like that,” Christopher said of suicide.

At a closed-casket ceremony in South Hill, Christopher said he insisted on making sure the body in the coffin belonged to his brother. Dix’s head was wrapped, his brother said, but there on his right biceps was the tattoo of a chain with a dangling smiley face.

It was Timmy, all right.

Spc. William Timothy Dix, 32, was buried at Arlington National Cemetery in May.

In addition to his brother and sister, Dix is survived by his mother, Barbara Moore Dix, of Palmer Springs, Va., and father, Wilhelm Dewey Dix, of Florida.