For The Hell Of It And Souvenirs

The story of a group of young Marines whose friendships grow through training to the battlefront and beyond. This group of friends must rely on each other to get through the physical and emotional ravages of war.

The author of the Signspotting series casts a gimlet eye on unfortunate souvenirs from around the worldNfrom the kitschy and crude to the downright creepy.

A collection of pieces from author Dorvo Wagonz. Modern writing, entertaining yet avant garde.

For many the postcard may seem trivial, little more than a mundane souvenir or a way to keep in touch with friends and relatives while on vacation. But if we look carefully, postcards offer valuable insights into the time periods in which they were created and the mentalities of those who bought or sent them. Frank Marhefka, while serving in the U.S. Army Motor Transportation Corps during the First World War, amassed a collection of more than 150 postcards and photographs while in France, and bound them into a souvenir album. Marhefka’s collection provides a diverse and vivid look into a period of history that – in many soldiers’ accounts – is not usually visualized with all its cruelties. Emphasizing the pictorial turn of the Great War, this album offers personal insight into a conflict that caused so much death and destruction. The book begins with an introduction providing a history of postcards and their extensive use by soldiers during the Great War. Then, after a biography of Marhefka, his postcard collection is presented in its entirety. Accompanying the images are brief texts that place them into historical context, as well as suggestions for further reading. As a visual artifact of the First World War and the perspective of one U.S. soldier, this book is aimed at students, scholars, postcard collectors, and general readers alike who have an interest in military history and popular culture.

“Let’s keep in the bond.” —Leon Uris, bestselling author of EXODUS and TRINITY. The Allied forces had been battling the Japanese Empire in the Pacific War since 1941, flattening island after island for three and a half years. Now, it was Okinawa’s turn. The Japanese engineers had scarred the paradise by building three major airfields, affording a tempting morsel for the American juggernaut and a strategic entry point to Japan itself. On April 1, 1945, ironically April Fool’s Day and Easter Sunday, the invasion of Okinawa began. Thousands of warships and aircraft appeared, dumping tons of high explosives on the pristine little island. Tens of thousands of American infantrymen stormed their beaches. Within the flick of an eyelash the quaint little villages were reduced to rubble. The beautiful fields of rice and sugar cane looked as though a giant heavenly shotgun had blasted them into a quagmire of mud and broken debris. Fortunately, the islanders were warned in advance to dig caves in the mountainsides where they could seek refuge. This they did, and this is where they hid for three months as the battle raged over their heads. For tactical reasons, the Japanese commander decided to make his stand in the south. Thus, the lower end of the island was demolished, leaving the north unscathed. Perhaps fate stepped in and decided to preserve at least half of this wonderful civilization. Many of the riflemen who survived the flames of combat in the south were sent north and allowed to mingle with these gracious people. This story belongs to them.