In thetone of voice that adults reserve for talking to six-year-olds,he asks again, “Now, tell me Vivian, when did you last seeyour Papa?”I shake my head and say, “No, I haven’t seen him for along time. I don’t know where he is.”The finger comes again, hooking my chin and forcingmy head up and toward him. I look into the pale, wateryeyes of the man in the gray Gestapo uniform. My heartpulses so hard in my ears that I can barely hear his words.“Have you seen Papa this week, Liebchen” (Sweetie), hecoos. “Who are his friends?” I shake my head “No,” knowingthat a few hours earlier Papa came to our street, near theapartment. He stood in the shadow of the corner house,watching me. I knew that he had come to see me, andsomehow, instinctively, I also knew that I should not go tohim and that he could not come to me. We looked at eachother, and then he turned and slipped away. It will bealmost ten years before I would see him again.The Gestapo man stands and abruptly leaves the bedroom.It isn’t until I see him in the living room, talking to Oma, that my tears come.In German Girl?, I reflect on my extraordinary childhood years, 1942 to 1953, growing up in Nazi Germany. As a "Mischling", a child with one Jewish parent and one Christian parent, my experiences during World War II, and its effect on the years that followed, provide a unique picture of wartime life as seen through the eyes of a child. My Lutheran grandparents hid and protected me while my mother was jailed and questioned tortuously on the whereabouts of my father. A Jewish man, my father lived “underground.” In "German Girl", I describe my father’s ingenuity and bravery, the enduring strength of my mother and the simple pleasures and comforting love of my grandparents stolen in a time of horror for so many. I have included copies of historical documents and photographs of the people discussed in the book.* In "German Girl", I have filled my book with memories, pictures, reproductions of forged documents and the incredible story of growing up alongside the appalling destruction of WWII in East Berlin.Copyright © 1998 Vivian Ert Bolten Herz.All rights reserved.The Library of Congress, catalog card number 2005351683United States Holocaust Memorial Museum,Washington D.C.Catalogue card number DS135.G5 H 4659 1998;Jüdisches Museum Berlin, GermanyYad Vashem Library, Jerusalem, Israel., catalog card number 105-0271Yad Vashem - Bet Vahlin Library, Israel., catalog card number HER-09

    After several failed attempts he got out over the wire and journeyed for weeks as a fugitive from northern France to Marseilles, then across the Pyrenees to Spain and Gibraltar and freedom. He was guided along the way by French civilians, resistance fighters and the organizers of the famous Pat escape line. His straightforward, honest and vivid memoir of his work as a surgeon at Dunkirk, life in the prison camps and his escape attempts gives a fascinating insight into his wartime experience. It records the ingenuity and courage of the individuals, the ordinary men and women, who risked their lives to help him on his way. It is also one of the best accounts we have of what it was like to be on the run in occupied Europe.

    Hamilton “Hamfist” Hancock has been shot down over Laos, and must use all his skill, and luck, to avoid capture and certain, violent death. To facilitate his rescue, he must become a ground FAC and direct airstrikes against North Vietnamese targets on the Ho Chi Minh Trail. And, to survive, he must engage in hand-to-hand combat.But Hamfist may face his greatest battle after his rescue. Back in Vietnam, while recuperating at the hospital at Cam Ranh Bay, he experiences a sapper attack. And, following his return to the air, Hamfist is tormented by a flying error, an error which may have cost a comrade his life.Only time will tell if Hamfist can regain his self-respect and passion. On his final flight, Hamfist faces a brutal enemy in a life-or-death duel that will determine if he will be shot down once again or return home to his soul-mate. The rescue, the airborne mistake and the final battle force Hamfist to reevaluate his priorities in his career, in his flying, and in his life.

    B-36 crews trained for the one flight when they would be ordered to drop combat nuclear bombs on the USSR. Flights of fifteen hours over continental United States to grueling thirty-hour nonstop flights overseas were routine, all without the benefit of in-flight refueling—not yet invented. The experiences of this crew, as they flew their assigned missions, are part of the history of our nation’s defense. They were part of our Cold War Shield.

    I can sanitize my manuscript and give the reader a false sense of how war reduces the humanity of an individual. Not only that, but sanitizing the past distorts history and lulls a person into a nonchalant manner of behavior in determining courses of action. The end result is that I would defeat the purpose that compelled me to write my book in the first place. So what is the point? I hope that you understand what I am trying to achieve. As I put this book together over the years, I constantly questioned my ability and skill to compose my manuscript in a cohesive manner and even my right to do it, but here it is. I think the main problems were that I couldn't look at it objectively and that I tried to write it as an 18-19 year-old. I wanted to present the naiveté and immaturity, which had awesome power and control over life and death. At the same time, naiveté and immaturity could strangle you. The title, The Mailman Went UA, came from our little song and dance routine that we performed when we didn't receive any mail. It reflected the utter desolation of aloneness and heartbreak that extended beyond the lack of mail to who you were as a human being, and that impact is impossible to shake. The mail was our only touch with any degree of normalcy. It was more than a connection with the "World." It was the essential element in preserving our sanity. We were surrounded by death and destruction and became unfazed by them, but we were always hit hard when we didn't receive any mail.

    The battle went on, mostly in the dark, for hours. Exposed ammunition canisters were hit and blew up, causing a thunderous explosion inside the FSB that left dust so thick it jammed the hand-held weapons of the GIs. Much of the combat was hand-to-hand. In all, twenty-four Americans lost their lives and another fifty-four were wounded. Nearly one hundred enemy bodies were recovered. It was one of the most vicious small unit firefights in the history of U.S. forces in Vietnam.As in his acclaimed book Blackhorse Riders, a finalist for the prestigious Colby Award, Philip Keith uncovers a harrowing true story of bravery and sacrifice by the men who fought valiantly to hold FSB Illingworth-a tale never-before-told and one that will not be soon forgotten.

    It covers the twenty-one years Don spent in the US Army, including six years in Airborne infantry rifle companies, ten years in special forces and five years in military intelligence. His story covers four combat tours, three in Vietnam and one in Laos and stretches from the old “brown boot” army to the new all volunteer army. The story is told in the manner you would hear it if you were sitting with the author having a cup of coffee or a cold beer and chatting about the “good” old days. This memoir covers the following assignments: Basic Combat Training | E Co. 325th AIR, 82d Airborne Division | K Co. 511th AIR, 11th Airborne Division | B Co. 505th AIR, 82d Airborne Division | E Company, 325th, 82d Airborne Division, Fort Bragg, N.C., October 1960 | Training Co., 7th Special Forces Group Ft. Bragg, NC | A Company, 5th Special Forces Group [Sept - Dec 1961] | 1st Special Forces Group, Okinawa | B Co. 5th Special Forces Group, Ft. Bragg, NC | A Co. 3rd Special Forces Group, Ft. Bragg, NC | D Co., 1st Special Forces Group, Ft. Bragg, NC | 46th Special Forces Company [Augmented] 1967 Thailand | 1st Special Forces Group, Okinawa | Super Spook Training, Ft. Holabird, MD | The Bird Cage, Ft. Belvoir, VA | 525th Military Intelligence Group, Vietnam | Counterintelligence Special Agent Course Ft. Huachuca, AZ | Defense Against Methods of Entry Course Ft. Huachuca, AZ | 801st MI Det., 5th SFG [Abn], Ft Bragg, NC June 1971-Dec 1973 | Defense Language Institute Monterey, CA | 500th Military Intelligence Group Camp Zama, Japan | Retirement 1 March 1976 Ft. Bragg, NC Some Readers Comments: “I just got through reading all of your army experiences and enjoyed it very much., Clarence J.” “Don I enjoyed reading about your adventures and about those early Army days! I was reading the parts about “Super Spook!” lol And I was thinking to myself, Hum? “ I think I've met some people like them!” I like your particular writing style. “ Dave H. “I was researching Ft Holabird when I came across part of your memoirs. Great reading...my ass is supposed to be house-husbanding & taking care of the dogs & cats while my wife is attending nursing classes...well I guess spending the afternoon reading your memoirs are worth an ass-chewing.”, Daniel M. “Ran across a couple of your chapters years ago, but for some reason never found your website until this week. Love it, you really capture the esprit de corps serving in SF was all about.”, H.C.S. “My wife’s in Reno visiting her mother. I’m supposed to be working on an exam for the State. Instead, I’m too caught up in your story. Thanks for all that you did.” Jim. F. “Top; I just finished reading your story and I had to tell you that I think that you are a very good writer. Your style of writing kept me attentive from the first paragraph.”, Bob W. “Kudos to you for Strap Hanger, and for saying it in common language of the common soldier. I called my style a barrack philosopher style, but never equaled your style of common language in a clear and concise manner. Enjoyed your writing. Congratulations on a job well done.”, Ron A.