Creating a Family to Be Proud Of

Welcome to the Story Sparks multi-Author Blog Tour. Between May 21-26, 2018, readers get a chance to enter and win ebooks from six different authors. Today, Terri Wangard is the featured author. A lucky winner will win her Friends & Enemies. Terri will be talking about “Creating a Family to be Proud Of.” Read on to discover what sparks Terri’s creativity and to enter the rafflecopter to win her heartwarming book.

A batch of forgotten letters was found in my grandmother’s house. Written in 1947 and 1948, they came from distant cousins in Germany. My grandparents and other relatives had been sending them care packages. My great-great-grandfather immigrated to Wisconsin in the 1870s, as did two brothers. A fourth brother remained in Germany, and these letters came from his grandchildren.

The family in the letters would be the perfect subject around which to craft a story. Research revealed life in Nazi Germany as increasingly grim before the war even started. The letters provide a fascinating glimpse of life in war torn Germany, but nothing about the war years. How had the family coped? I turned to the internet and searched on the family’s factory name. I found it all right, in a list of German companies that used slave labor. I wanted my family to be the good guys, but that hope grew shaky.

Contact had ceased in 1948 after the German currency reform, and with their silence in the letters, many questions couldn’t be answered. Why had they refrained from any mention of their thoughts and activities during Hitler’s regime? Desire to forget? Shame of the vanquished? Concern the American family wouldn’t help if they knew the truth?

The family consisted of a brother, his wife, and three young children, and a sister and her husband, and their “old gray mother,” who turned 66 in 1947. Another brother languished as a prisoner of war in Russia, not returning home until 1949, I learned from the German department for the notification of next of kin. The sister and her bridegroom had lived in Canada for five years, returning to Germany in 1937 because she was homesick. They were bombed out of their homes and lived in their former offices, temporarily fixed up as a residence. Before the war, they employed about one hundred men, but in 1947, had fewer than forty-five, with no coal, electricity, or raw materials to work with.

My imagination took over. The family, not the newlyweds, came to Wisconsin. Because a critiquer scorned someone returning to Hitler’s Germany due to homesickness, I gave them a more compelling reason when I rewrote the story. The grandfather had died and the father had to return to take over the factory, much to the daughters’ dismay, who loved their new life in America.

Of course, they did not support Hitler. Because their factory had to produce armaments and meet quotas imposed on them, they had no choice in accepting Eastern European forced laborers, Russian POWs, and Italian military internees.

The older daughter (my main character) took pride in committing acts of passive resistance. Now a war widow, she hid a downed American airman, an act punishable by execution. When they were betrayed, a dangerous escape from Germany ensued.

Maybe the family did support Hitler. Many did before realizing his true colors. My version probably doesn’t come close to the truth, especially concerning the daughter. The real daughter was twelve years old in 1947. No matter. This is fiction, and this is a family I can be proud of.

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Friends & Enemies

Aiding downed enemy airmen is punishable by death in Nazi Germany,

but he’s an old friend. How much will she risk to help him?

A World War II novel. http://amzn.to/2eGJeoR

Terri Wangard’s first Girl Scout badge was the Writer. Holder of a bachelor’s degree in history and a master’s degree in library science, she lives in Wisconsin. Her research included going for a ride in a WWII B-17 Flying Fortress bomber. Classic Boating Magazine, a family business since 1984, keeps her busy as an associate editor.

Spies, Flutes, and Red-heads by Carole Brown

Welcome to the Story Sparks multi-Author Blog Tour.

Between May 21-26, 2018 readers get a chance to enter and win ebooks from six different authors.

Today I'm the featured author.

A lucky winner will get her choice of a Kindle copy of

With Music in Their Hearts or A Flute in the Willows.

Today I'll be talking about these books: The Spies of WWII. Read on to discover what sparks my creativity and to enter the rafflecopter to win one of my heartwarming books.

  

Spies:

Developing my WWII Spies series came from two things:

·      Listening to my mother talk about her life during WWII and seeing the pictures she had

·     A short story about a “supposed” civilian spy during WWII from an elderly man. Rumors had it that HE was that spy, but he neither confirmed nor denied it.T

Because my interest in WWII was sparked through these two avenues, I found it easy to fall in love with the research for the books.

Researching spies was an eye-opening experience. Not only danger is involved, but there are tons of reasons why men—and women—serve in such a capacity. The rewards are vast—money, esteem, the parties and socializing, exotic countries—if all goes as hoped and the spy escapes detection. Caught—prison and death can be the result.

Music:

And since dangers and sacrifices abound in WWII stories—some of which I brought out in these books, I also wanted to create a sense of fun, warmth and love to lighten the suspense. One way I managed to create the feeling was to bring music into the story as a subplot.

The idea to include music in these books was sparked because of my own love of music. The decision as to what or how it was brought into each book was also a fairly easy decision. Music has so many benefits besides lightening up suspense books.

·     Encouragement

·     Mood enhancers

·     Spiritual uplifter

·     Healthy

and so much more.

One tidbit before I move on to the sisters. I love most instruments, but the flute was not one of them—until I heard one played by an expert. That changed my ideas about flutes, and from then on, and the idea was sparked! The flute was the perfect instrument to include in athletic Josie's life.

The Red-headed Sisters:

I'd already planned to feature three red-haired sisters in their own books. It was fun to create their personalities and who the heroes would be. Fortunately, while I wrote book one, the heroes for the other two books appeared and were good matches for sisters two and three.

I've always loved red hair. It's so vibrant, rich in color and alluring. Studying and researching the subject I realized how many different shades of red there are and helped spark the choice of shades for each sister to match their personalities.

All in all, the first two books have been a delight to write, and I'm looking forward to the writing the third book soon.

Let me share brief thoughts how the spies, music and sisters all worked together to make this series heartwarming and suspenseful.

With Music in Their Hearts

With my interest piqued and imagination soaring, I settled on the plot for book one where the hero—handsome, smart, a minister and godly—is rejected to serve overseas but recruited to serve as a civilian spy. Sparks of jealousy and love fly between him and the heroine as they battle suspicions that one or the other is not on the up and up.

Emma Jaine Rayner, by her own claims, is a non-professional pianist, who entertains and gives an extra doze of homeyness to the boarding house residents with the nightly musical fests. Her active imagination while playing, increases her longing for a man to love—and Tyrell Walker, the civilian spy, increases the pressure by wooing her with his trained voice.

A Flute in the Willows

In Book Two, the heroine and hero are both rebels in their own way. She has two loves—her skating and Jerry, her husband, an overseas U.S. spy. But when he returns home looking like a skeleton trying to return to life, she’s scared. What happened in Germany to change a man so much? When his wife's life is threatened, Jerry realizes he can’t stand by and do nothing. Jerry has to risk all for the very soul and life of himself—Josie. These two damaged, rebellious people learn the hard way that leaning on God instead of their ownselves and abilities is the only true way to love and happiness.

Josephine Rayner Patterson, the second sister, is quite different from her older sister. She's athletic and training for the Olympics once it's resumed after the war. But returning to her flute after a drastic alteration in her life, it's the balm that heals her troubled heart. In spite of resisting, Jerry Patterson through her music and enduring love, finds his heart strangely drawn to what he's never experienced before.

Sing Until You Die (coming)

The third book in this series has a tentative publishing date of 2019. The youngest sister of the WWII Spies sister overhears a private conversation while singing to the military troops and realizes it's vital information to the well being of the United States. When she’s almost discovered, Claire barely escapes. Surrounded by zealous people she can’t and won’t trust, Claire has no options but to trust the one person she most disdains, the one person she ran from: quiet, plugging-along Wills but rumored to be the best spy serving on U.S. soil. In the midst of danger, Wills has the chance of a lifetime: to show the love of his life, his love for her. Will she learn that God is her strength and wisdom and that no matter how well she can sing, how far she travels, how many men she meets, only Wills can fill the void in her heart?

Claire Roseanne Rayner is the princess of the family, the petted and beloved daughter of the Rayner Family who sings like a bird and is determined to fly away like one too. She loves God but staying away from the boy-turned-man she grew up with is never far from her mind. William (Wills) Mason has never wavered in his love for Claire Rayner. In spite of having no talent in either singing or playing, he's fully behind Claire's musical ambitions. And loving her just might bring him to the point of facing death.

The Spies of WWII, Book 2

A Flute in the Willows

Chapter One

1943

Jerry Patterson stared out the yawning black hole in the side of the plane. Seconds to go before he dropped. Night time parachuting was always a risky thing, but the pilot was one of the best who’d keep this baby right on target, lessening the chances he’d have to hit water. Trees were another matter, but with any kind of luck, the landing would go smooth.

Then to meet his contact and move into the German military high life. His pulse revved up. It was a dangerous game he was about to play.

Josie’s face flashed in his mind, and Jerry felt his heart soften. How he loved his tomboy wife. She was a beautiful butterfly dancing on ice, but put her in a social setting, and she was like a wild creature let lose in a maiden aunt’s prim parlor.

Three weeks of marital bliss. It’d been heaven on earth for him. One rapturous day—and night—after another. She’d cried the night before he’d left, but had been strength personified when he’d boarded the train the next morning.

If—no, when—he got home, he’d wrap his arms around her and not let her out of his sight.

Jerry stepped into the hole and dropped rapidly, counting. One thousand...One thousand one...One thousand two... With a jerk he pulled, the parachute opened above him, and he drifted earthward toward his assignment.

Buy Link

Question for readers:

What is your favorite musical instrument?

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Besides being a member and active participant of many writing groups, Carole Brown enjoys mentoring beginning writers. An author of ten books, she loves to weave suspense and tough topics into her books, along with a touch of romance and whimsy, and is always on the lookout for outstanding titles and catchy ideas. She and her husband reside in SE Ohio but have ministered and counseled nationally and internationally. Together, they enjoy their grandsons, traveling, gardening, good food, the simple life, and did she mention their grandsons?

Personal blog: http://sunnebnkwrtr.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CaroleBrown.author

Amazon Author Page:  http://www.amazon.com/Carole-Brown/e/B00EZV4RFY/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1427898838&sr=8-1

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/browncarole212

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/carole-brown

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/sunnywrtr/boards/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/5237997-carole-brown

Linkedin:  https://www.linkedin.com/in/carole-brown-79b6951a/

Google+:    https://plus.google.com/u/0/113068871986311965415/posts

Stitches in Time:  http://stitchesthrutime.blogspot.com/

125th Anniversary of the Cherokee Strip Land Run of 1893

Welcome to the Story Sparks multi-Author Blog Tour. Between May 21-26, 2018, readers get a chance to enter and win ebooks from six different authors. Today, Jodie Wolfe is the featured author. Two lucky winners will be awarded either her To Claim Her Heart or Mrs. Wigglesworth's Essential Guide to Proper Etiquette and Manners of Refined Society. Jodie will be talking about the Cherokee Strip Land Run of 1893. Read on to discover what sparked Jodie's creativity and to enter the Rafflecopter to win her heartwarming book.

September 16^th will mark the 125^th anniversary of the Cherokee Strip Land Run of 1893. It was our Nation’s last great race for land. 115,000 people showed up to race for 42,000 plots. I can clearly picture that day. It was hot and dry. Folks gathered along nine different starting places located along the Kansas border and south of the Cherokee Strip in Oklahoma Territory.

All manner of conveyances could be seen—people on foot, horseback, buggies, wagons, bicycles, trains, etc. I can easily imagine the clamor and chaos as all those assembled awaited the gunshot that would signify the start of the race at noon. People were desperate. The country had undergone an economic catastrophe with the plummet of the New York Stock Exchange due to the overinvesting in the railroads. Many businesses that depended upon the railroad were forced to close their doors. Quite a number of banks either closed or called in their loans. It was a difficult time.

Such is the backdrop for my new novel, To Claim Her Heart. This book is especially significant to me since it was my dear mother-in-law who introduced me to the history of the land run. It mattered to her because she had several relatives who completed in the land race and found claims. I vividly remember the summer of 1997 when we stopped off in Oklahoma to see one of those original properties. My sons and I tromped over the land and saw the homestead that was built in 1894. The first home had been a soddy that didn’t last longer than a year.

The rock home I saw was partially built into the side of a hill and in a state of disrepair. A stream gurgled nearby and within a couple of miles, the Gloss (Glass) Mountains cropped out of the landscape. It didn’t take much for me to start imagining characters tromping through the area and choosing to settle there.

While Mom never lived to see this book finally published, she knew that I was working on it in her last days. I’m so thankful that she shared her rich family history with me. Quite a few of the family stories she told me were included in my book.

Here’s what the back cover blurb says:

In 1893, on the eve of the great race for land, Benjamin David prays for God to guide him to his 'Promised Land. Finding property and preaching to the lost are his only ways of honoring his deceased fiancée. He hasn't counted on Elmer (Elsie) Smith claiming the same plot and refusing to leave. Not only is she a burr in his side, but she is full of the homesteading know-how he is sadly lacking.

Obtaining a claim in the Cherokee Strip Land Run is Elsie Smith's only hope for survival, and not just any plot, she has a specific one in mind. The land's not only a way to honor her pa and his life, but also to provide a livelihood for herself. She's willing to put in whatever it takes to get that piece of property, and Elsie's determined to keep it.

Her bitterness is what protects her, and she has no intentions of allowing that preacher to lay claim to her land . . . or her heart.

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Jodie Wolfe creates novels where hope and quirky meet. The power of story to influence lives and change hearts is what motivates her to weave tales that tell of the Savior's faithfulness and forgiveness. She's been a semi-finalist and finalist in various writing contests and is a member of ACFW and RWA. When not writing she enjoys spending time with her husband in Pennsylvania, reading, walking, and being a Grammie. Learn more at www.jodiewolfe.com.

Here’s the first scene:

Chapter One

Competition should be relegated to the male species. Proper young ladies should avoid a situation which permits rivalry, particularly involving the male species. If unavoidable, allow the gentleman to win. Be above reproach in this manner.

Mrs. Wigglesworth’s Essential Guide to Proper Etiquette and Manners of Refined Society

September 15, 1893, Kiowa, Kansas—Border of the Cherokee Strip

“Elmer Smith?”

For once in all of her days, Elsie welcomed the name Pa had insisted on when her life began and Ma’s had ended.

“Is that you, son?”

“Ain’t your son.” Ain’t no one’s son. Elsie shifted her Stetson lower to ward off the man’s scrutiny.

“There’s no need to get your prickles up. Do you testify you’re at least twenty-one years of age and head of your household?”

Elsie nodded and bit back a retort.

“Then sign here.” The man shoved a paper across the makeshift desk. Beads of moisture dotted his upper lip.

She scrawled her name on the line. The page crinkled when she folded and shoved it into her shirt pocket, along with the copy of The Homestead Laws and Pa’s hand-drawn map.

“Get out of the way, kid.” A scraggly looking fellow jabbed into her shoulder.

Elsie stepped out of line, glaring at him. He ignored her and turned his attention to the clerk.

She elbowed through a crowd of men. How had her small town swelled to so many folks? Thankfully there were few she recognized, or, more so, who could recognize her. The less who knew her gender, the better. She certainly didn’t need no man to help her get the land she and Pa had dreamed about.

Elsie scooted her hat up and swiped at the sweat on her forehead before dropping it back into place, scrunching the thick braid she’d pinned up three days prior. Hefting her saddlebags to her opposite shoulder, she hiked the short distance to the livery and retrieved Buster. A short ride would clear her head and prepare her for what lay ahead.

Dust swirled and nearly choked Elsie as she rode in the opposite direction of the throngs, to see the old farm one last time.

Acrid smoke filled her lungs. Nearby fires, to deter Sooners from entering the strip before the race began, burned in the west, but not out of control.

Elsie urged Buster, careful not to tire him. Everything hinged on finding the land tomorrow.

Everything.

Purchase To Claim Her Heart                 Purchase Mrs. Wigglesworth's Essential Guide to Proper Etiquette and Manners of Refined Society

At the beginning of each chapter I created advice from a Mrs. Wigglesworth. Of course, most of my characters do the complete opposite. :) Because I’ve had such positive feedback in regard to these sayings, I created an ebook of her quips. I’ll be giving away a copy of it as well as an ecopy of To Claim Her Heart, so be sure to leave a comment.

What time period/historical event draws your attention?

America's First Unknown

Have you visited Arlington Cemetery and the Tomb of the Unknowns? Perhaps one of the biggest impressions made is the dedication of the honor guard, keeping watch no matter how bad the weather.

But what about the men inside the tomb? Have you heard how the first man, killed in World War I, found his way to Washington?

Other Allied countries honored an unknown. The French at the Arc de Triomphe, the British at Westminster Abby. A captain in the war, New York Representative Hamilton Fish, introduced legislation for a memorial in the United States,

Army Chief of Staff General Peyton March dismissed the idea. Likewise, Secretary of War Newton Baker believed all dead would be identified, and advised the Senate not to take up the bill. Public support grew, however, and General Pershing lobbied for a tribute. Baker got on board.

The Quartermaster Corps was ordered to select a body buried in France. Every detail of the selection process was planned to assure a body was chosen that could never be identified. From four cemeteries, a body was exhumed and carefully examined for any scrap that could reveal the man’s identity. After three years, he was badly decomposed, and his remains were carefully wrapped in a blanket and placed in a gleaming steel casket.

The four cemeteries represented the four major battles the Americans had fought: Belleau Wood; Bony, in the Somme; Thiaucourt, in the St. Mihiel drive; and Romagne-sous-Montfaucon, in the Meuse-Argonne.

The four identical caskets were taken to Chalons-sur-Marne, in the Champagne region of northeastern France. At the city hall, a French honor guard stood in formation as the caskets were carried inside. For two hours, French citizens passed through, paying final respects to the flag-draped caskets.

That evening, the caskets were shifted around so no one knew which casket came from which cemetery. To further confound the mystery in a game of musical caskets, the remains were then removed from their original caskets and placed in one of the others.

A wounded veteran, Sgt. Edward Younger, was selected to make the final choice. While a French military band played Chopin’s Funeral March, Younger entered the room with a bouquet of white roses. He walked around the caskets, wondering if any held a friend. Finally, he laid the roses on the casket second to his right upon entering the room.

America’s Unknown was transferred to an ebony and silver casket, which was sealed and placed in the city hall lobby. He lay in state until evening, with a French honor guard on one side and Americans on the other, as the public passed through. A funeral cortege, with black horses pulling a caisson, took him to the train station for another hour of laying in state before boarding a train.

After an overnight in Paris, the train arrived in Le Havre for another ceremony with another large crowd of French citizens bearing flowers. An elaborate funeral parade took the Unknown to the USS Olympia, which took him home. A French battleship fired a salute.

More ceremony was accorded the Unknown as he was carried through the streets of Washington. He lay in state in the Capitol Rotunda on Thursday, November 10, 1921. Between 90,000 to 96,000 came to pay him their respects, leaving mounts of flowers.

On Friday, Armistice Day, he proceeded to Arlington National Cemetery. Among those in the procession was a group of soldiers who had received the Medal of Honor, and a group of Gold Star Mothers, who had lost sons in battle.

After speeches and prayers, church bells rang out the noon hour, signaling for two minutes of nationwide silence. President Harding then spoke to the nation, his words transmitted electrically for the first time to New York, Chicago, and San Francisco.

Before the Unknown could finally rest in peace, he received awards. From the United States, he received the nation’s highest honors for military service: the Distinguished Service Cross and the Medal of Honor. He also received the Belgian Croix de Guerre, the Victoria Cross of Great Britain, the French Croix de Guerre with Palm, the Italian gold medal for bravery, the Romanian Virtute Militară, the Czechoslovak War Cross, and the Polish Virtuti Militari.

The Unknown Soldier is Unknown But to God. He died one hundred years ago.

Biography of a Palace

Born in 1882, Otto Petschek was a leading banker and industrialist in the new democracy of Czechoslovakia. During the years of World War I, he foresaw Czechoslovak independence and recognized that coal would be vital. He bought as many mines as he could. The Petschek bank’s holdings skyrocketed as the largest holders of lignite and controlled almost half of the brown coal in Europe. Otto was the King of Coal.

He and his parents purchased plots of land in Prague, Czechoslovakia, over several decades to form a five-acre parcel. In 1924, Otto began building himself a palace. It was to be the last palace built in Europe.

He was passionate about architecture and acquired a vast collection of books on the subject. From these and his travels, he planned his palace. It must befit his status as a prominent citizen of Prague, and embody the brilliant future of peace and prosperity after the war to end all wars.

Austria-Hungarian Emperor had offered to elevate Otto’s father Isidor and Uncle Julius to nobility, but they declined, preferring to keep a low profile. They were Jewish, and their family had escaped to Prague from a pogrom in 1876.

Otto was particular about his palace. The first architecture was dismissed when he started the construction in the wrong shape. Otto’s home was not to be a straight rectangle, but was to curve. He continuously sent the second builder alterations that required parts being ripped out, reversed, and redone.

The delays fueled Otto’s temper. He argued with his wife and snapped at his four children. His obsession with the palace and its extravagant furnishings brought him to the edge of ruin. Finally, in 1930, they moved in, but the children weren’t happy.

With the Great Depression, ethnic Czechs opposed Otto for being too German, and German Czechs disparaged him for being too Jewish. The rise of Fascism, and Communists in the mines, further plagued him. Otto died in 1934, having lived in his palace for only four years.

His widow and children escaped Czechoslovakia in 1938. The palace was taken over by the Germans.

Colonel Rudolf Toussaint had been the military attaché in Prague before World War II. He had wanted to be an artist, but his father wanted him to join the military. He favored neither the Führer nor the regime. He hated war, having survived some of the worst of the first war. During this time, the French and British assisted Hitler in dismembering Czechoslovakia, beginning with the Sudetenland. With the country notched on Hitler’s belt, Toussaint was transferred to Belgrade in 1939.

In October, 1941, promoted to general, he returned to Czechoslovakia as the Wehrmacht commander, and Otto’s palace became his home. Otto’s staff, led by majordomo Adolf Pokorny, appreciated their new proprietor with the elegant manners who treated them politely. They kept the palace running smoothly, and Toussaint gave them a free hand.

Two generals had occupied the premises before him, taking away silver and china, and stripping Otto’s wife’s closets. Everything they left behind had been stamped with the Nazi symbol, a stylized eagle clutching a swastika. Remaining in the library were all of Otto’s Jewish books.

In the final days of the war, Toussaint worked hard to keep Prague from being destroyed, violating an order from his superior to gain a ceasefire.

Laurence Steinhardt arrived in July, 1945, as the new US ambassador to Czechoslovakia. The palace was now controlled by the Czech military, and he came to call on them. Pokorny informed him of Otto and the palace’s history.

The Soviets had seized Otto’s home when they liberated Prague, and did more damage in a few days than had occurred in six years of war. They’d also trucked away silver, linen, and porcelain.

Steinhardt requested of President Beneš that the United States rent the palace. Beneš wanted to cultivate US favor, but the State Department refused. Steinhardt rented the palace himself, paying 150,000 Czech crowns per year.

Repairs were hard to obtain through the Communist government. Steinhardt wanted the State Department to buy the palace, but who had the rights to it, the government or Otto’s son Viktor? The ambassador sought to obtain the palace against Czech debts to the US. The Czechs were unlikely to be able to repay the debt, which would be necessary before the US would return the Czechs’ wartime reserve of gold held in US banks. The deal went through, and Mr. Pokorny and his wife now lived on American soil in the little gatehouse.

A pool in the basement.

Former child star Shirley Temple Black was in Prague in 1968 to invite the Czechs to join the International Federation of Multiple Sclerosis Societies. The Soviets invaded Czechoslovakia on the day she was to leave. The event triggered a new career for her in international relations. Twenty-one years later, President George H. W. Bush appointed her as the new ambassador.

In the two decades since her visit, the popular had become downtrodden. Events were happening quickly in Eastern Europe though. Shirley soon became involved in the Velvet Revolution. The people rallied, with her whole-hearted support, and brought down the Communist regime.

Photos U.S. Embassy Prague

Coming in September: The Last Palace: Europe’s Turbulent Century in Five Lives and One Legendary House by Norman Eisen

Leave Them? Or Bring Them Home?

Should soldiers lie where they fell? That’s the way it used to be. Bringing the dead home from foreign battlefields was expensive and cumbersome.

After World War I, the United States gave families the choice on their loved ones’ disposition. Former President Teddy Roosevelt was adamant. His son Quentin should “continue to lie on the spot where he fell in battle.”

New York Times writer Owen Wister opined, “Out of these holes were being dragged—what? Boys whom their mothers would recognize? No! Thing without shape, at which mothers would collapse.”

Grieving mothers didn’t agree. One wrote to Secretary of State Robert Lansing, “You took my son from me and sent him to war…Now you must as a duty of yours bring my son back to me.”

Families of 46,000 WWI dead—nearly 60%—opted for their boys to come home. After World War II, only one quarter of the families brought the dead home. With American-owned cemeteries that are works of art, many prefer to leave their loved ones among comrades-in-arms.

Where would you want a loved one to be buried?

Luxembourg American Cemetery

Burying the dead where they fell—be it a ditch, someone’s yard, a burned-out tank, the middle of a street—is impractical. Quentin Roosevelt was originally buried in the French village where his plane crashed. Now he lies beside his brother Ted Jr. in Normandy American Cemetery. Surely his father would approve.

Rocket Men

I’ve been fascinated by space since studying the solar system in second grade. If there’s an astronaut book out there, I’ve read it. The latest is Rocket Men: The Daring Odyssey of Apollo 8 and the Astronauts Who Made Man’s First Journey to the Moon, by Robert Kurson.

Apollos 11 and 13 are famous as the first moon landing and the successful failure of a moon landing. Less well-known is Apollo 8, which, in the words of the late Neil Armstrong, was “an enormously bold decision.”

The Saturn 5 moon rocket had flown twice, and the second time was a failure. The lunar module was behind schedule. The Soviets were suspected of attempting a manned lunar flight by December.

The American space program was in trouble. A crew had perished in a spacecraft fire on the pad in 1967. And not only the space program, but all of America was convulsing with anti-war fervor, racial unrest, and assassinations in 1968.

Apollo 7, the first manned flight of the Apollo spacecraft, had yet to fly when George Low proposed a lunar flight in December, four scant months away. Precise navigation and trajectories had to be calculated, the moon rocket fixed, essential systems and software developed.

It was dangerous, but it would keep the space program moving forward toward the goal of landing men on the moon before the end of the decade, and maybe even beat the Soviets.

The optimal launch window would be December 20 or 21, which meant Apollo 8 would be orbiting the moon on Christmas. If the flight was a disaster, Christmas would be forever linked with it.

The crew selected for the daring flight had been training for Apollo 9. Frank Borman had little interest in space exploration. He joined NASA to fight the Soviet Union on the new battlefield of space. His teachers had labeled him as bossy and hardheaded. His peers found him arrogant. His own assessment was, he was among the best of the astronaut corps.

His opposite had been his crewmate on Gemini 7. Jim Lovell had a lifelong dream of exploring space and flying rockets. Folks most remembered his warmth and friendliness.

Rookie Bill Anders rounded out the crew. He was dismayed by their assignment to Apollo 8. He’d been training to be a lunar module pilot. With no LM, he’d be switched to command module pilot, and his future chances of walking on the moon disappeared.

The flight of Apollo 8 was a resounding success. And 1968 ended on a bright, shining note.