The mud in France didn’t care who you were. It sucked the boots off colonels and privates alike. It froze into jagged ridges…
The town of St. Lô wasn’t a town anymore. It was a graveyard of brick and mortar. Technical Sergeant John “Miller” Miller crouched…
The war in Europe was practically a corpse. Hitler had put a bullet in his head in a bunker in Berlin five days…
The mud was a living thing. It was thick, orange, and smelled of sulfur and rot. It clung to Private First Class James…
July, 1948. West Berlin. The sky over Tempelhof Airport didn’t roar; it screamed. Every three minutes, day and night, a massive C-54 Skymaster…
The Hürtgen Forest didn’t look like a forest anymore. It looked like the mouth of a shark—jagged, broken, and filled with the splintered…
The B-17 Flying Fortress, named “Ye Olde Pub,” was no longer a fortress. It was a flying sieve. Second Lieutenant Charlie Brown struggled…
The room at The oblivious Hotel in downtown Seattle smelled of lavender and old dust. It was one of those historic establishments—velvet curtains,…
The house didn’t have walls; it had views. Perched on a cliff in Malibu, the structure was a marvel of steel and glass,…
The nursery in the penthouse apartment on the Upper East Side was silent, save for the hum of the HEPA air purifier and…