Joe Browns Army

Joseph E. Brown was governor of Georgia from 1861-1865.

At the beginning of the Civil War, Georgia ranked third among the Confederate states in manpower resources, behind only Virginia and Tennessee. With an arms-bearing population somewhere between 120,000 and 130,000 white males between the ages of 16 and 60, this resource became an object of a great struggle between Joseph Brown, governor of Georgia, and Jefferson Davis, president of the Confederacy. Brown advocated a strong state defense, but as the war dragged on Davis applied more pressure for more soldiers from Georgia. In December 1863, the state's general assembly reorganized the state militia and it became known as Joe Brown's Pets. Civil War historians William Scaife and William Bragg have written not only the first history of the Georgia Militia during the Civil War, but have produced the definitive history of this militia. Using original documents found in the Georgia Department of Archives and History that are too delicate for general public access, Scaife and Bragg were granted special permission to research the material under the guidance of an archivist and conducted under tightly controlled conditions of security and preservation control.

As a young boy in the depths of the 1890s depression, Joe E. Brown had a job: making faces at the firemen on passing coal-burning trains so they would throw coal at him. As a child he also worked as a circus acrobat and newsboy. His inventiveness and spunk helped his family get through hard times but also fueled his fascination with entertainment, and he built up a repertoire of rubber-faced expressions and funny antics that would make his stage and screen work memorable. Baseball was a favorite pursuit in his life and thus a recurring theme in his films and skits. In this biography--the first on one of the top film comedians of the 1930s--the reader learns of Joe's challenging childhood and how it prepared him for later screen roles, and how his love of baseball translated into screen successes. His early career in vaudeville is discussed, his work as a Broadway comedian in the Roaring Twenties, his road to movie stardom, and how he parlayed his love of sports into big hits like 1930's Elmer the Great. The year 1935 gets its own chapter; its films are considered the pinnacle of Brown's career, including Alibi Ike, Bright Lights and A Midsummer Night's Dream. The final chapters reveal what happened after he left Warner Bros., including the bittersweet 1940s, when he entertained troops around the globe while mourning a son lost to the war. The book concludes with a comprehensive filmography of his features from 1928 to 1963.

Love gripping crime thrillers packed with non-stop action? Discover Army of One: Introducing Joe Beck. About Joe Beck He's big. He's bad. And he's as hard as they come. He's a former cop from Nebraska, turned unlicensed outlaw private eye, who roams the length and breadth of America seeking out suspects, righting wrongs and reaping riches while serving up his own no-holds-barred brand of vigilante justice. He's unlicensed. His office is his cell phone. And the gun he carries is unregistered; its serial number filed off. His methods are outwith the law. And he never takes any prisoners. He's America's Unlicensed Private Detective. About Army of One In Army of One, Joe Beck is in McAllen, a city not too far from the US-Mexico border, for the funeral of an old friend who he heard took his own life. After the funeral, he randomly bumps into a beautiful escort named Sapphire, who mistakes him for somebody else, and makes plans to spend the night with her in a smoky motel. But things don't go to plan, as they're abducted at gun point and bundled into the back of a black SUV by three men they've never seen before. Three men who know a whole lot more about Joe Beck's dead friend than they ought to. What do they want? What do they know? And how will Joe Beck react? Buy Army of One: Introducing Joe Beck to find out. You won't be disappointed. It's a high-octane, all-action thrill ride through the seething south of Texas featuring scenes akin to what you would find in Lee Child's Jack Reacher thrillers. If you like Reacher, you'll love Beck. Reader Reviews John, posting on Goodreads.com, rated it 5-stars: "Absolutely great. Characters are mysterious and the settings are vivid. In some chapters, I felt like I was actually there! Would highly recommend this book. Looking forward to more Joe Becks!" Jayden, posting on Goodreads.com, rated it 5-stars: "What a read! Absolutely loved it." Jamie, posting on Goodreads.com, rated it 5-stars.

Most Americans think of the Civil War as a series of dramatic clashes between massive armies led by romantic-seeming leaders. But in the Appalachian communities of North Georgia, things were very different. Focusing on Fannin and Lumpkin counties in the Blue Ridge Mountains along Georgia’s northern border, A Separate Civil War: Communities in Conflict in the Mountain South argues for a more localized, idiosyncratic understanding of this momentous period in our nation’s history. The book reveals that, for many participants, this war was fought less for abstract ideological causes than for reasons tied to home, family, friends, and community. Making use of a large trove of letters, diaries, interviews, government documents, and sociological data, Jonathan Dean Sarris brings to life a previously obscured version of our nation’s most divisive and destructive war. From the outset, the prospect of secession and war divided Georgia’s mountain communities along the lines of race and religion, and war itself only heightened these tensions. As the Confederate government began to draft men into the army and seize supplies from farmers, many mountaineers became more disaffected still. They banded together in armed squads, fighting off Confederate soldiers, state militia, and their own pro-Confederate neighbors. A local civil war ensued, with each side seeing the other as a threat to law, order, and community itself. In this very personal conflict, both factions came to dehumanize their enemies and use methods that shocked even seasoned soldiers with their savagery. But when the war was over in 1865, each faction sought to sanitize the past and integrate its stories into the national myths later popularized about the Civil War. By arguing that the reason for choosing sides had more to do with local concerns than with competing ideologies or social or political visions, Sarris adds a much-needed complication to the question of why men fought in the Civil War.

In Soldiering in the Army of Tennessee Larry Daniel offers a view from the trenches of the Confederate Army of Tennessee. his book is not the story of the commanders, but rather shows in intimate detail what the war in the western theater was like for the enlisted men. Daniel argues that the unity of the Army of Tennessee--unlike that of Robert E. Lee's Army of Northern Virginia--can be understood only by viewing the army from the bottom up rather than the top down. The western army had neither strong leadership nor battlefield victories to sustain it, yet it maintained its cohesiveness. The "glue" that kept the men in the ranks included fear of punishment, a well-timed religious revival that stressed commitment and sacrifice, and a sense of comradeship developed through the common experience of serving under losing generals. The soldiers here tell the story in their own rich words, for Daniel quotes from an impressive variety of sources, drawing upon his reading of the letters and diaries of more than 350 soldiers as well as scores of postwar memoirs. They write about rations, ordnance, medical care, punishments, the hardships of extensive campaigning, morale, and battle. While eastern and western soldiers were more alike than different, Daniel says, there were certain subtle variances. Western troops were less disciplined, a bit rougher, and less troubled by class divisions than their eastern counterparts. Daniel concludes that shared suffering and a belief in the ability to overcome adversity bonded the soldiers of the Army of Tennessee into a resilient fighting force.

For scope, drama, and importance, the Atlanta Campaign was second only to Ulysses S. Grant’s Overland Campaign in Virginia. Despite its criticality and massive array of primary source material, it has lingered in the shadows of other campaigns and has yet to receive the treatment it deserves. Powell’s The Atlanta Campaign, Volume 1: Dalton to Cassville, May 1–19, 1864, the first in a proposed five-volume treatment, ends that oversight. Once Grant decided to go east and lead the Federal armies against Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia, he chose William T. Sherman to do the same in Georgia against Joseph E. Johnston and his ill-starred Army of Tennessee. Sherman’s base was Chattanooga; Johnston’s was Atlanta. The grueling campaign opened on May 1, 1864. While Grant and Lee grappled with one another like wrestlers, Sherman and Johnston parried and feinted like fencers. Johnston eschewed the offensive while hoping to lure Sherman into headlong assaults against fortified lines. Sherman disliked the uncertainty of battle and preferred maneuvering. When Johnston dug in, Sherman sought his flanks and turned the Confederates out of seemingly impregnable positions in a campaign noted Civil War historian Richard M. McMurry dubbed “the Red Clay Minuet.” Contrary to popular belief Sherman did not set out to capture Atlanta. His orders were “to move against Johnston’s army, to break it up and to get into the interior of the enemy’s country . . . inflicting all the damage you can against their war resources.” No Civil War army could survive long without its logistical base, and Atlanta was vital to the larger Confederate war effort. As Johnston retreated, Southern fears for the city grew. As Sherman advanced, Northern expectations increased. This first installment of The Atlanta Campaign relies on a mountain of primary source material and extensive experience with the terrain to examine the battles of Dalton, Resaca, Rome Crossroads, Adairsville, and Cassville—the first phase of the long and momentous campaign. While none of these engagements matched the bloodshed of the Wilderness or Spotsylvania, each witnessed periods of intense fighting and key decision-making. The largest fight, Resaca, produced more than 8,000 killed, wounded, and missing in just two days. In between these actions the armies skirmished daily in a campaign its participants would recall as the “100 days’ fight.” Like Powell’s The Chickamauga Campaign trilogy, this multi-volume study breaks new ground and promises to be this generation’s definitive treatment of one of the most important and fascinating confrontations of the entire Civil War.