I like the turn of some of your phrases:
. . . on that front page in my uniform with the headlines praising my victory.
. . . a motley mess of misfit vagabonds looking for a few dollars to buy a hot meal.
. . . traded our knees and shoulders for a handful of dimes
And then, in the last paragraph, you kind of lose the lyric quality of the words.

I have a feeling this person was real, if not is.. it just reads like an autobiography. And this is a set up for one of those twisted villain pieces, where the villain thinks they are doing good..
yeah the end does lose the lyrical, autobiographical, noir-type thought pattern, but it feels like a break in his psyche to me.