World War II is raging. A young father must
choose between his family and duty to his country- a decision that could cost
him everything.
Based on actual experiences of United States veterans and official military aviation history records from World War II, this is the thrilling story of a family’s journey into
war. While his loved ones struggle with shortages and rationing at home, Sam endures
relentless Japanese attacks against his unarmed aircraft over the treacherous
mountains and torrid jungles of Asia. His job is to drop supplies to Merrill’s Marauders and over 750,000 allied soldiers fighting in the perilous
jungles of Burma. If the enemy is not stopped, the American way of life will end.
If you like non-stop action with a touch of humor and romance and the
chance to learn about the “forgotten
front” of WWII, then this is the
book for you.
World War II is raging. A young father must
choose between his family and duty to his country- a decision that could cost
him everything.
Based on actual experiences of United States veterans and official military aviation history records from World War II, this is the thrilling story of a family’s journey into
war. While his loved ones struggle with shortages and rationing at home, Sam endures
relentless Japanese attacks against his unarmed aircraft over the treacherous
mountains and torrid jungles of Asia. His job is to drop supplies to Merrill’s Marauders and over 750,000 allied soldiers fighting in the perilous
jungles of Burma. If the enemy is not stopped, the American way of life will end.
If you like non-stop action with a touch of humor and romance and the
chance to learn about the “forgotten
front” of WWII, then this is the
book for you.
Excerpt:
April 4, 1944 - Dinjan Airbase, India
Sam and Bobby Joe were
totally exhausted when they crawled into their charpoys. The harrowing events
of the day had taken its toll on them physically and mentally. In spite of the
heat and noise of the jungle, Sam felt the blessed relief of sleep approaching
soon after his head hit the pillow. However, as he drifted off, a feeling of
unease came over him. It was a feeling that something was wrong, not here in
India, but at home. He didn’t know if he felt uneasy because he still hadn’t
received mail from home or because of some unknown reason, but the feeling
stayed with him until he finally succumbed to his exhaustion and slipped into a
deep sleep.
Thankfully, his slumber was not
disturbed by his recurring nightmare, and he slept soundly until the wee hours
of the morning when he suddenly awoke not knowing what had disturbed him. A
light rain was falling outside, and except for an occasional flash of distant
lightning, the basha was in total darkness. He lay very still, listening to the
sounds around him. He strained his hearing, but no sound came except for the
steady breathing of the sleeping men around him. After several minutes, he
relaxed, thinking his imagination was playing tricks on him. He was almost
asleep again when he thought he detected a faint unfamiliar sound coming from
somewhere in the basha. Once again, he listened intently, not sure he had heard
anything; but then he heard the sound again—only this time it seemed closer,
and he was sure it came from within the basha. He couldn’t quite place the
sound, but it seemed like something soft brushing against an object. He
listened closely, but all was silent. None of the other men in the basha
stirred, and after an extended period of silence, he relaxed once again in
anticipation of sleep.
He was in that dreamy
state just before slumber when he felt the presence of something or someone
nearby. Once again, his senses came to full alert, and he made a conscious
effort not to move. He listened carefully, bringing all his senses to bear. He
could see or hear nothing, and yet he was sure something was there. He was
startled when someone at the other end of the room moved, but then all was
silent once again. He was lying on his back, so he slowly moved his head to the
right and scanned the darkness.
At first he saw nothing, but then attention was drawn to a slight
movement at the foot of his bed. He couldn’t make out what it was. It appeared
to be an undistinguishable shadow against the darker background of the room. As
he watched, the shadow moved, and he held his breath as it silently glided
along the side of his bed. There was no sound as it moved, and it slowly drew
nearer and stopped near the head of his bed. He could tell that it was
something large, but due to the extreme darkness, he was unable to see what it
was. His instincts told him this was something dangerous and evil, and the
hairs on the nape of his neck stood erect. At that moment, a distant flash of
lightning faintly illuminated the scene, and in that instant of light, Sam
could see the large form of a tiger standing beside him.
The animal’s head was enormous. Its
eyes, momentarily reflecting light from the faraway lightning, gave the beast
an evil, devil-like appearance. This was death incarnate staring directly at
him.
Sam was frozen with
fear, and his heart seemed to stop. His .45-caliber pistol hung on the wall not
three feet away, and he cursed himself for not keeping it inside the mosquito
netting with him. He knew the tiger could see that he was awake, and he feared
any movement would cause it to attack. The animal stepped closer, and Sam could
see its dim outline and smell its damp fur and the fetid odor of its breath.
The tiger appeared to know its victim was helpless. The great beast took its
time as it sniffed the mosquito netting as if testing its strength. Slowly it
raised a huge paw and placed it against the puny impediment. The tiger’s claws
caught in the netting, and with a mighty swipe, it ripped the flimsy material
away from the bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment