Here Is Your War, by Ernie Pyle (Carol Johnson)

00 Here Is Your War - Ernie Plye - 1945 (Carol Johnson) 2

(Forum Books Edition, 1945)

00 Here Is Your War - Ernie Pyle (1943) 1944 1(Pocket Books Edition, 1944 – front)

00 Here Is Your War - Ernie Pyle (1943) 1944 2

(Pocket Books Edition, 1944 – rear)

Here is Your War - 000 - Frontspiece 2

Frontspiece

Here is Your War - 003 (Convoy to Africa) 2

Convoy to Africa (3)

Here is Your War - 004 (Convoy to Africa - Soldiers Aboard Ship) 2Convoy to Africa (4)

Here is Your War - 008 (Convoy to Africa - Soldiers Aboard Ship) 2

Convoy to Africa (8)

Here is Your War - 011 (Convoy to Africa) 2

Convoy to Africa (11)

Here is Your War - 025 (The Americans Have Landed) 2

The Americans Have Landed (25)

Here is Your War - 031 (Not Too Dark Africa) 2

Not Too Dark Africa (31)

Here is Your War - 036 (Not Too Dark Africa - Arab Family) 2

Not Too Dark Africa (Arab Family) (36)

Here is Your War - 054 (On The Land - MPs) 2

On The Land (MPs) (54)

Here is Your War - 065 (The Medical Front - Dentist Major Vaiden Kendrick) 2

The Medical Front (Major Vaiden Kendrick, Dentist) (65)

Here is Your War - 080 (In The Air) 2

In The Air (B-25 Mitchell Bomber) (80)

Here is Your War - 089 (In The Air - Fighter Pilots) 2

In The Air (Fighter Pilots) (89)

Here is Your War - 100 (In The Air) 2

In The Air (B-25 Mitchell Bomber) (100)

Here is Your War - 109 (Sherman Had a Word For It) 2

Sherman Had a Word For It (109)

Here is Your War - 113 (Sherman Had a Word For It - Bartering with Arabs) 2

Sherman Had a Word For It (Bartering With Arabs) (113)

Here is Your War - 121 (Sherman Had a Word For It) 2

Sherman Had a Word For It (121)

Here is Your War - 125 (Bullets, Battles, and Retreat) 2

Bullets, Battles and Retreat (125)

Here is Your War - 140 (Bullets, Battles, and Retreat) 2

Bullets, Battles and Retreat (140)

Here is Your War - 150 (Sidelights - Corporal Lester Gray, Chicago) 2

Sidelights (Corporal Lester Gray, Chicago) (150)

Here is Your War - 159 (Desert Sortie - French Soldier) 2

Desert Sortie (French Soldier) (159)

Here is Your War - 173 (Roving Reporters) 2

Roving Reporters (173)

Here is Your War - 177 (Roving Reporters - Sleeping Accomodations) 2

Roving Reporters (Sleeping Accomodations) (177)

Here is Your War - 183 (The End in Sight - Tunisia) 2

The End in Sight (Tunisia) (183)

Here is Your War - 184 (The End in Sight - Tunisia) 2

The End in Sight (Tunisia) (184)

Here is Your War - 188 (The End in Sight - Tunisia - German Cemetery) 2

The End in Sight (Tunisia – German Cemetery) (184)

Here is Your War - 191 (The End in Sight - Fighter Pilots) 2

The End in Sight (Fighter Pilots) (191)

Here is Your War - 196 (The End in Sight) 2

The End in Sight (196)

Here is Your War - 202 (The Final Push) 2

The Final Push (202)

Here is Your War - 224 (Victory - German POW) 2

Victory (German POW) (224)

Here is Your War - 228 (Victory - Entering Ferryville) 2

Victory (Entering Ferryville) (228)

Here is Your War - 234 (Victory - Jeep at Airfield) 2

Victory (Jeep at Airfield) (234)

Here is Your War - 237 (Victory - Tunisia) 2

Victory (Tunisia) (237)

Here is Your War - 241 (Victory) 2

Victory (241)

 

Zotz!, by Walter Karig – 1947 (Illustrations by Walter Karig)

Thus is gained the power of the silent death that strikes without sound,
without wound,
by night,
by day.
First prayeth one in the language of the ancient ones thus:

Khatnoth takhath blecho.

Now draweth one the symbol of the female and upon it the symbol of the male,
the whole making the symbol of the unmoving star with is the home of Zotz…
Now cometh the letting of blood and the drinking of blood
and thereafter if ye would strike any living thing dead
thou hast but to point thy finger and call upon Zotz…

Z o t z!

zotz-walter-karig-1947_edited-1

zotz-walter-karig-11_edited-2 zotz-walter-karig-045_edited-2 zotz-walter-karig-75_edited-2 zotz-walter-karig-107_edited-2 zotz-walter-karig-141_edited-2 zotz-walter-karig-249_edited-2 zotz-walter-karig-207_edited-2 zotz-walter-karig-265_edited-2

 

Forever Flowing, by Vasily Grossman -1970, 1986 (Christopher Zacharow)

There is nothing more difficult than to be a stepson of time;
there is no heavier fate than to live in an age that is not your own. 
Time loves only those it has given birth to itself:
its own children, its own heroes, its own labourers.
Never can it come to love the children of a past age,
and more than a woman can love the heroes of a past age,
or a stepmother love the children of another woman.

forever-flowing-vasily-grossman-1986-christopher-zacharowAnd so he asked: “I was right, wasn’t I?”
Lyudmilla shook her head.  Decades of intimacy can also divide people.
‘Lyuda,’ said Viktor humbly,
‘people who are in the right often don’t know how to behave. 
They lose their tempers and swear. 
They act tactlessly and intolerantly. 
Usually they get blamed for everything that goes wrong at home and at work. 
While those who are in the wrong, those who hurt others,
always know how to behave. 
They act calmly, logically and tactfully – and appear to be in the right.’

grossman-vasily-forever-flowing067_edited-2Why had his life been so hard?
He had not preached nor had he taught –
he had remained exactly what he had been from his birth:
a human being.
The slope of the mountain opened before him.
From behind the pass the peaks of the oak trees showed.
In his childhood, he had gone there into the forest twilight,
and searched out the remnants of the vanished life of the Circassians –
the fruit trees gone wild,
the traces of the fences around their obliterated houses.
Perhaps his own home was still standing there just as changelessly
as the streets and the stream seemed changeless.
Here was one more bend of the road.
For a moment, it seemed to him as if an impossibly bright light,
brighter than any he had ever seen in his life,
had flooded the earth.
A few steps more and in this light he would see that home,
and his mother would come out to meet him, her prodigal son,
and he would kneel down before her,
and her young and beautiful hands would lie upon his gray,
balding head.
He saw the thickets of thorns and hops.
There was nothing left of the house nor of the well –
only a few stones that shone white in the dusty grass,
burned by the sun.
He stood there – gray, bent, and changeless.

(1955-1963)

Hell in the Heavens, by Capt. John M. Foster, USMCR

Hell in the Heavens - John M Foster - 1961 - 1(Ace Giant Edition, 1961)

     While reading an old newspaper that afternoon, I heard a dull distant noise that sounded like a muffled explosion, but I didn’t pay any attention to it.

     “A plane went in – a plane went in,” someone yelled.

     I ran outside and jumped on the running board of a command car.  We drove down the taxi-strip toward the east.

     A tall column of black smoke funneled into the sky from fifty feet offshore.  We stopped and I stood on a coral boulder that provided a good view.

     “My hell” I exclaimed at the full scene.  Only fifty feet away a piece of metal showed above the water, burning with the flame of a gasoline and oil fire and sending the cloud of smoke skyward.  A propeller poked one of its blades above the surface of the burning water.  Farther out in the water and a few feet away, another part of an airplane was partly above the water.  There were five men pulling something out of the metal.

Hell in the Heavens - John M Foster - 1961 - Dedication_edited-2

(G.P. Putnam’s Sons Edition, 1961)

     They waded through chest-deep water with a body and carried it toward me.  It was the limp, still form of the pilot.  They carried him to within five feet of me.  I could see the face burned black, with its scorched remnants of a beard.  The white bones of the knuckles protruded from a blackened hand from which a glove had been partly burned off.  A steamy smell of charred hair and flesh came to me as they passed.

     The pilot was not dead when he was carried past me, amazing though it was that he could still be alive.  The doctors did all they could to maintain that spark of life and fan it into flame.  They injected adrenalin, administered oxygen and plasma.  Fifteen minutes later he died.

     The casualty list would rise by one tiny digit in the KILLED IN ACTION column.  In a few days his next of kin would receive a telegram informing them of that fact.  They would cry and feel very bad.  The neighbors would try to console them.  A funeral would be held with praying and singing and sentiments expressed – perhaps by someone who had never known him.

Hell in the Heavens - John M Foster - 1961 - 4(G.P. Putnam’s Sons Edition, Back Cover, 1961)

     A few lives would feel empty, as they had while he was away at college and out in the Pacific, fighting.  The father and mother and the sisters and the brothers would always remember him and regret that he had to die so young.  The sweetheart would be brokenhearted and hysterical.

     Time would pass and the family again would laugh at jokes and enjoy the dancing, the theatres and their fellow men; the sweetheart would find that someone else could matter.  She would marry, have children, and soon but faint remembrances of the pilot who died so young, so long ago, would remain.

     Very quickly in the lives of mankind all is forgotten.  All that remains is the record – DIED IN ACTION.

We Are of Clay, by 2 Lieut. Charles J. “Chick” Rainear (James C. McKell)

we-are-of-clay-charles-j-rainear-0(Portrait)

“They would not find me changed

from him they knew

Only more sure of all I thought was true.

– From Robert Frost

 

* * * * * * * * *

We Are of Clay - Charles J Rainear 1_edited-1

(Frontspiece)

My life is at variance with my thoughts

Unsubdued by nature, yet struggling to get free.

All the world is verily a stage to me

I cannot turn but look, and then I’m caught.

* * * * * * * * *

We Are of Clay - Charles J Rainear 2L’Envoi

If you have courage, I have too,

And your strong mind I’ll lean upon

When the going’s rough –

You may be the many and I the few,

But faith in one’s enough.

 

The Bridge of San Luis Rey, by Thornton Wilder (Mary Drevenstedt)

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 00 1 Thornton Wilder - 1967The Bridge of San Luis Rey, Washington Square Press Edition, 1967

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 00 0 - Thornton Wilder - 1927 (Amy Drevenstedt)The Bridge of San Luis Rey, Grosset & Dunlap, First Edition, 1927

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 01 - Frontspiece (Drevenstedt)(Frontspiece)

From all this saddening data

Brother Juniper contrived an index for each peasant.

He added up the total for victims

and compared it with the total for survivors,

to discover that the dead were five times more worth saving.

 

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 37 - Marquesa de Montemayor (Drevenstedt)Marquesa de Montemayor (37)

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 65 - Marquesa de Montemayor (Drevenstedt)Marquesa de Montemayor (65)

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 77 - Marquesa de Montemayor (Drevenstedt)Marquesa de Montemayor (77)

It looked almost as though the pestilence had been directed

against the really valuable people in the village of Puerto.

 

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 86 - Marquesa de Montemayor (Drevenstedt)Marquesa de Montemayor (86)

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 91 - Esteban (Drevenstedt)Esteban (91)

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 113 - Esteban (Drevenstedt)Esteban (113)

And on that afternoon

Brother Juniper took a walk along the edge of the Pacific.

He tore up his findings and cast them into the waves;

he gazed for an hour upon the great clouds of pearl

that hang forever upon the horizon of that sea,

and extracted from their beauty a resignation

that he did not permit his reason to examine.

 

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 149 - Uncle Pio (Drevenstedt)Uncle Pio (149)

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 173 - Esteban (Drevenstedt)Esteban (173)

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 205 - Uncle Pio (Drevenstedt)Uncle Pio (205)

The discrepancy between faith and the facts

is greater than is generally assumed.

 

The Bridge of San Luis Rey - 221 - Perhaps an Intention (Drevenstedt)Perhaps an Intention (221)

Complete Poetic Works of Khayyim Nahkman Bialik, Edited by Israel Efros – 1948 (Lionel S. Reiss)

Bialik, Hayyim Nahman - Lionel S Reiss 000Chaim Nahman Bialik (Khayyim Nakhman Bialik)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 009 (To a Bird)To A Bird (9)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 014 (On My Return)On My Return (14)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 029 (On the Threshold of the House of Prayer)On the Threshold of the House of Prayer (29)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 034 (The Talmud Student)The Talmud Student (34)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 056 (The Talmud Student)The Talmud Student (56)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 057 (Through Clouds Of...)Through Clouds of Fire (57)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 067 (The Last Dead of the Desert)The Last Dead of the Desert (67)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 071 (Surely the People is Grass)Surely the People Is Grass (71)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 079 (Midnight Prayer)Midnight Prayer (79)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 097 (The Stars are Lit...)The Stars Are Lit… (97)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 099 (The Graveyard)The Graveyard (99)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 104 (The Dead of the Wilderness)The Dead of the Wilderness (104)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 119 (The Dead of the Wilderness)The Dead of the Wilderness (119)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 122 (Alone)Alone (122)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 126 (Tidings)Tidings (126)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 130 (The City of Slaughter)The City of Slaughter (130)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 143 (The City of Slaughter)The City of Slaughter (143)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 202 (The Pool)The Pool (202)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 210 (The Pool)The Pool (210)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 222 (On Your Unknown Path)On Your Unknown Path (222)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 223 (One Summer Evening)One Summer Evening (223)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 228 (Go Flee, O Prophet)Go Flee, O Prophet! (228)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 233 (The Dance of Despair)The Dance of Despair (233)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 239 (The Folk-Songs)His Folk-Songs (239)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 245 (Twixt Tigris and Euphrates)Twixt Tigris and Euphrates (245)

Bialik - Lionel S Reiss 262 (The Song of Work and Toil)The Song of Work and Toil (262)

Heaven’s My Destination, by Thornton Wilder – 1934, 1960 (Unknown artist)

heavens-my-destination-thornton-wilder-1960-henry-koerner_edited-1

“Now listen!  Listen to me!” she said, emphatically. 
“You make me sick. 
Where do they get yuh, your the’ries and your ideas? 
Nowhere! 
Live, kid, – live! 
What’d become of all of us sons-of-bitches,
if we stopped to argue out every step we took? 
Stick down to earth.”
Brush looked at her with furrowed brow and said in a low voice,

“It seems to me I live.”

* * * * * * * * * *

George Brush is my name;
America’s my nation;
Ludington’s my dwelling place
And Heaven’s my destination.

(Doggerel which children of the Middle West were accustomed to write in their schoolbooks.)