Twelve true stories of men in war during the Vietnam, Korean and World War II wars. Each story of twenty to thirty pages comprises detailed experiences with maps and photographs. "They removed the handcuffs, stretched my arms out spread eagle against the wall and pinned a target on my chest. Leg irons clamped on both legs and a blindfold over my eyes. . .At the same time I could hear the rifle butts hit the flagstone path and I knew what that meant. It was ready, aim, fire and that's it, and in those seconds my life flashed before me." After three and a half years in Japanese prisons in China, this veteran of World War II, Korea and Vietnam was on the Doolittle Raid on Tokyo 18 April 1942, and tells of his capture and imprisonment in the story Freedom is for Those Willing to Defend It. I Dreamed of Steel Chargers with Skies to Roam, but Mostly I Dreamed of Just Going Home is a story of five and a half years in the Hanoi Hilton. An F-105 American pilot depicts more than torture in the infamous Knobby Room at Hoa Lo Prison and isolation without mail from his wife and five children, he discloses how he survived with three others in a 12 x 12 concrete cell for five years and their longing to see America once more. "We faced east which was toward home and where an American flag was flying and with a hand placed over our heart pledged allegiance to the flag." Bursting the noise ban, they loudly sang The Star Spangled Banner while another cell in greater volume burst into God Bless America and another, even louder, America the Beautiful, and another and another throughout the cells of the prison camp until silenced by Vietnamese guards with tear gas and bayonets. A twist of unexpected humor surfaces in No Place to Hide, when a bombardier lieutenant is forced to jump out of bed while still in his shorts and salute General Twining; when his Purple Heart goes unclaimed because he was wounded on his anatomy in a place he never wanted to explain. "I decided to hand crank the stuck bomb bay doors shut. I took off my flak jacket, parachute, and Mae West life jacket, and headed for the open bomb bay. The quarters were too tight to work with those strapped to my body. I instructed the flight sergeant to hand me a new oxygen bottle every thirty seconds, since I didn't want to run out of oxygen, pass out, and fall out the bomb bay without a parachute. I got out on the six-inch catwalk, leaned over the open bomb bay and looked down at the ground 28,000 feet below. . ." In the invasion of Guam, a Marine from the 3rd Marine Division tells of the fight on the beach and scaling the Chonito Cliffs in The Sounds and Smells of War I Know So Very Well. "The next morning descending from Fonte Canyon by an easier route than the cliffs we had scaled, we witnessed an astounding spectacle. Looking down from a ridge trail into the desolate ruins of Aga a, once a metropolis of 12,000, the Japanese soldiers were holding a full-dress ceremony on a bomb-pocked avenue of the capital city, or what was left of it. Flashing Samurai swords gleamed in the sun as they paraded wearing full combat regalia. We ordered an artillery concentration, but it was too late to catch the prideful retreating Imperial enemy." Trusting to My Instinct is about a young recruit from ranch country thrown into battle and learned from experience why the training manual was incomplete. "Reaching battalion headquarters with the POW, I placed him in the major's charge, and rushed back up the mountain to rejoin my platoon. In my absence Lieutenant Davis had gone ahead alone to sneak behind the machine gun position. We estimated there was a machine gunner in a command post and about forty German riflemen in foxholes, dug in and camouflaged. We listened to the steady rhythm of the ra-ta-ta-tat of the machine gun bursts. Then it quit. On a hunch that the enemy gun had jammed, Bill and I rushed forward firing our Tommy guns from the hip, spraying every bush and tree

The Strange Liberalism of Alexis de Tocqueville places Tocqueville's political though in the context of his time and place, and shows why his ideas defy easy classification. Responding to the twentieth-century tendency to impose anachronistic political categories on Tocqueville, Roger Boesche reminds us that like Stendhal, Balzac, Hugo, Lamartine, Flaubert, and other writers of his generation, he was a nineteenth-century Frenchman reacting to contemporary French concerns, aspirations, and anxieties.

The Congressional Record is the official record of the proceedings and debates of the United States Congress. It is published daily when Congress is in session. The Congressional Record began publication in 1873. Debates for sessions prior to 1873 are recorded in The Debates and Proceedings in the Congress of the United States (1789-1824), the Register of Debates in Congress (1824-1837), and the Congressional Globe (1833-1873)