At the time, he would have done anything to escape; only upon reflection years later did he realize that the self-confidence instilled in him by his drill instructors had probably saved his life in Vietnam. A few months after boot camp, Private Ball was shipped out to Vietnam, joining F Company, 2nd Battalion, 3rd Marines, near Khe Sanh. As a grunt, in the vernacular of the Corps, Ball, like the other youths of F Company, did a difficult and deadly job in such places as the A Shau Valley, Leatherneck Square, the DMZ and other obscure but critical I Corps locales. His--their--fear of death mingled with homesickness. Little did they realize that the horrors of the Vietnam War--horrors that while in-country they often claimed did not even exist--would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

    

    Mary and Olive had already been told they were going to an ack-ack training camp in Berkshire, and she crossed her fi ngers, hoping that she would be setting off with them. Finally, the corporal came to her name. ‘Private Ward,’ she called out. ‘Anti-aircraft.’At that moment, Jessie couldn’t have been happier. She was joining the artillery, and would soon be giving the Germans what for.”In the summer of 1940, Britain stood alone against Germany. The British Army stood at just over one and a half million men, while the Germans had three times that many, and a population almost twice the size of ours from which to draw new waves of soldiers. Clearly, in the fight against Hitler, manpower alone wasn’t going to be enough.Eighteen-year-old Jessie Ward defied her mother to join the ATS, leaving her quiet home for the rigours of training, the camaraderie of the young women who worked together so closely and to face a war that would change her life forever.Overall, more than half a million women served in the armed forces during the Second World War. This book tells the story of just one of them. But in her story is reflected the lives of hundreds of thousands of others like them – ordinary girls who went to war, wearing their uniforms with pride.

    Their small task force is assigned to work for Sheikh Mahmoud, who is distressed to discover that men whose true loyalty is to the radical preacher, British-born Mullah Khaweini, have infiltrated his own security forces. Whilst the trio try to unravel two complex frauds that are funding Middle Eastern terrorism, they uncover a plot that nobody anticipated - a monstrous plan to bring Dubai to its knees. The three agents have very little time to stop Khaweini, but all they know is that somehow the infamous bomb-maker, The Shadow, and the radical Mullah are in this together.This fast paced thriller from the writer of the City of London thrillers is based in Dubai and reeks of the authenticity that J Jackson Bentley brings to all of his books. The story is told in just over 105,000 words and approximately 270 paperback pages.

    Carter would participate in a number of expeditions against the Comanche and other tribes in the Texas-area. It was during one of these campaigns that he was brevetted first lieutenant and awarded the Medal of Honor for his "most distinguished gallantry" against the Comanche in Blanco Canyon on a tributary of the Brazos River on October 10, 1871. He became a successful author in his later years writing several books based on his military career, including On the Border with Mackenzie (1935), as well as a series of booklets detailing his years as an Indian fighter on the Texas frontier. Carter writes: "IT IS nearly fifty years since these tragedies occurred. There are few survivors. The writer is, perhaps, the only one. This is written in the vague hope that this chronicle of the events of that period may possibly prove of some lasting and, perhaps, historical value to posterity. "The country all about the scene of these tragical events—the Texas Panhandle—was then wild, unsettled, covered with sage brush, scrub oak and chaparral, and its only inhabitants were Indians, buffalo, lobo wolves, coyotes, jack-rabbits, prairie-dogs and rattlesnakes, with here and there a few scattered herds of antelope. The railroad, that great civilizing agency, the telegraph, the telephone, and the many other marvelous inventions of man, have wrought such a wonderful transformation in our great western country that the American Indian will, if he has not already, become a race of the past, and history alone will record the remarkable deeds and strange career of an almost extinct people. With these miraculous changes has come the total extermination of the buffalo—the Indians' migratory companion and source of living—and pretty much all of the wild game that in almost countless numbers freely roamed those vast prairies. Where now the railroads girdle that country the nomadic redman lived his free and careless life and the bison thrived and roamed undisturbed at that period— where are now the appliances of modern civilization, and prosperous communities, then nothing but desolation reigned for many miles around. "In the expansion and peopling of this vast country, our little Army was most closely identified. In fact, it was the pioneer of civilization. The life was full of danger, hardships, privations, and sacrifices, little known or appreciated by the present generation. "Where populous towns, ranches and well-tilled farms, grain fields, orchards, and oil "gushers" are now located, with railroads either running through or near them, we were making trails, upon which the main roads now run, in search of hostile savages, for the purpose of punishing them or compelling them to go into the Indian reservations, and to permit the settlers, then held back by the murderous acts of these redskins, to advance and spread the civilization of the white man throughout the western tiers of counties in that far-off western panhandle of Texas."

    

     When the fifty-something friends from Lancashire decide to take some time out together, little do they know that they will end up traversing Spain from north to south in an old and somewhat unsightly mini-campervan. Garrulous Geoff, hefty Harry and the relatively rational Jeremy, unused to spending longer than an evening in each other’s company, are thrust together for a month of travel and cohabitation which the latter relates to us with candour, pulling no punches when it comes to describing their more embarrassing escapades.

    Bradley was the chief of scouts of the 7th Infantry under General John Gibbon. After George Armstrong Custer and the 7th Cavalry headed up Rosebud Creek to the Little Bighorn, Gibbon's Montana Column was to approach the Little Bighorn Valley from the west and trap the Sioux and Cheyenne between the two forces. Custer attacked early and Lt. Bradley and his scouts were the first to find the bodies of five companies that perished under the boy general. In this remarkable journal, kept during the 1876 campaign up to the discovery of the disaster at the Little Bighorn, soldier-scholar and historian Bradley observed and recorded some of the most important events of the entire summer. Reading betwen the lines, you get Bradley's opinion of Custer and others he served alongside. Intending to publish the journal, Bradley began rewriting it from his notes in 1877. Sadly, he was killed at the Battle of Big Hole. Fortunately for history, his widow donated his papers to the Montana Historical Society and here for the first time is the journal in an annotated, well-formatted edition for e-readers, tablets, and smartphones. Every memoir of the American Indian Wars provides us with another view of the movement that changed the country forever. Be sure to LOOK INSIDE by clicking the cover above or download a sample.

    They knew that it was a massive gamble. Their friends called them brave. Their families thought that they had either gone completely mad or were dreaming of a delusional easy life in the sun. In the event none of these assumptions were completely accurate. Moving and funny, this is the story of the trials and tribulations involved in buying and converting their new house. The challenges of starting a new business in a foreign land, speaking a language they had struggled to learn thirty years previously and had since forgotten. But ultimately of fulfilling their ambition to work, laugh and play in the beautiful town of Sarlat.