All Corporal Clarence Smoyer wanted was to keep the family together; his tank crew family. Everyone else would have to fend for themselves. But that feeling of cohesion quickly came to an end after he saw his friend Staff Sergeant Paul Faircloth remove his tanker’s helmet, donned a steel pot, grabbed a Thompson and opened the hatch before Clarence could stop him. “Clarence, you’re in charge!” That would set the tone for Clarence’s experience in the field of battle after he lost his friend but that was just the beginning for the young man from Pennsylvania. This would not be the first time Clarence would have to change tanks or lose friends in the war but a steady life lesson in how after the arms and uniforms were taken away, the men fighting were just men wanting to go home.

Tank crews are tight-knit teams for a reason, the environment they worked in and their training to take over positions when someone was missing further drove this concept into Clarence and how he dealt with his friend’s deaths. He had been promoted to Gunner – the second in command in the tank – in recent weeks of a M4A1 Sherman and had participated in the 18 day marathon of fighting after Paris was liberated and the Germans were on an escape mission through France and into Belgium where the two fighting forces came to meet. The story is set in Mons, Belgium, September 1944 as the American 3rd Armored had received orders changing their direction.

Spearhead and other troops got a much needed break in Stolberg for three months while on reserve, where they enjoyed the hospitality of the local Germans, had real food and drink and relaxation and even pursued the local girls. Clarence was no different. New to dating, and fluent in German, he had befriended a local family and visited with them and their young daughter. Their break was cut abruptly when the Germans got a second wind and began to fight for parts of Belgium which forced the Americans to go.

If one of your men is wounded,” some commanders were told, “give him a shot of morphine. a blanket, tag him, and leave him along the road. If your vehicle is disabled, the vehicle behind will push it off the road. We will be at the battle site at first light.”

Clarence ended up a tanker when his shooting skill came to light. His shooting skills would eventually land him the job of a lifetime. During training in France he was still a loader and was happy with the job until the company leadership decided that if the gunners are suddenly killed then shouldn’t the loaders also be able to man the guns? To Clarence’s chagrin, everyone saw his shooting ability was extraordinary, so extraordinary his friend Paul got him a spot in his tank. He would be the gunner in the first Pershing tank – newly shipped to the front without a field test – and one to lead the assault on Cologne which would give Germany to the Allies. His crew had been selected as the crew to the Pershing after losing their last Sherman and they were too thrilled, why not? The much awaited redemption was here and the US Army had finally sent them a piece of equipment that was much more advanced technologically and promised to pack a bigger punch. But Clarence thought that other crews were more skilled and should have received the Pershing instead so we asked around. What he learned must have been humbling after everything he and the other crew members had been through; theirs was the crew that never gave out.

At the other end of the Sigfried line was 17 year old radio operator Gustav Schaefer – his tank crew readying themselves to leave Luxembourg because the Americans were closing in – was about to get his taste of real combat. Gustav may have been the radio operator but to his original crew he was the equivalent to the water boy. He was often tasked with fetching the crew meals and run errands and seemed to be his primary job. A change of orders placed the German tank crew in the middle of a fierce fight with the American Shermans and heavy artillery that would kill half his tank crew. A daring nighttime mission to destroy the remaining Panthers after the previous day’s battle earned Gustav – or Bubi (Little boy) – some respect from his most senior crewman and got him accepted as a tanker. His days of carrying meal kits seemed to be behind him.

Gustav would eventually find himself heading back into Germany with his company and reassigned to another Mark IV tank but this was the last line of defense but this time as a gunner. As the companies drew closer to their homeland, the American P-47s were hot on their trail, shooting at railroad tracks as they transported their tanks for re-equipping. Gustav had time to think to himself about the unsavory business of war, how he thought the boys on the American side were fast approaching but held little hatred toward any of them. They all had a job to do. His deepest desire to return home to his family farm with no electricity and his dreams of becoming a locomotive conductor since childhood had not died in the battlefield. The perilous train ride into German soil was a terrifying enough but the days spent in town before the last stand to defend Germany were equally disturbing to him.

Perhaps it had been his imagination but soon Gustav realized that the locals were not as happy to see them. Their uniforms were the same color as those the SS wore – an advantage for guys working with grease and dirt as it didn’t show – the environment of distrust and the tiredness of war and the propaganda fed to the masses made anyone in uniform the new enemy. “The prolongers of the war” he would find out Germans began to despise any signs of their own government. The same men who had suffered and died for the Rheinland were the enemy and unknown to him, the Americans were hailed by German civilians in occupied areas as their saviors. But the last assignment as each tank in Gustav’s company crossed over what was left of the Hohenzollern bridge was to delay the Americans in Cologne in the last battle for Germany made Gustav wonder if this would be a one-way trip.

The company pioneers – a name given to the demolition guys – had already attached explosive charges along the bridge as they went across. Purportedly to use as a last resort once their defense in Cologne failed to work and to be blown up after the last tanks came back across. Or maybe not. He really hoped that was not the case. As the crew of the Mark IV entered the city they realized they were it. Their sister companies were either missing or too shut up to assist and other units were pinned down by American forces elsewhere. After the commander’s briefing the tank commander returned and was not pleased. Gustav wondered if the two Panthers they encountered earlier that morning would be leading the charge but this was not the case. Instead, the company commander had ordered their Mark IV to await for the Americans to enter the financial district of the city, in a spot hidden from view, while the Panthers retreated to the bridge. They were it.

In the meantime the Clarence’s company had whittled down to four tanks when they entered deeper into the city, mainly due to the infantry taking longer to conduct building searches and left many behind with two tanks. Now all they had as they advanced into the city towards the bridge were four tanks and Clarence’s Pershing would be leading this time. Their unit commander, shocked at the utter loss of tanks and lives in the previous fighting, had ordered the Pershing to lead and allow the remaining Shermans to follow. This new responsibility for Clarence must have been unbearable but the crew pressed on. One piece of news that was a huge relief for them would be the opposite for the German tanks waiting for them; at some point during their approach and less than a mile to the bridge, around 1 P.M. the bridge was blown up. They wouldn’t be charging across the bridge after all. With most foot soldiers from both sides taking a backseat to the carnage, there was only one thing the tankers had to survive next. They now had to worry about fighting the German tanks. Unfortunately, their orders over the radio were clear; to keep going until they reached the river.

As Clarence and his crew made their way through the streets, Rolf, the tank commander of Gustav’s Mark IV had had enough of waiting and ordered the driver – who had recently joined their crew – to inch up just enough around the corner of their street so he could get a better view was met with something unexpected. He knew that was a tank down the street, but it was like nothing he had ever seen before. The rest of the crew wanted to know what he saw. After some time, a black car came out of nowhere careening into both their fields of view. Clarence was apt to shoot at any vehicle, since only military could drive them in the city. Gustav and Rolf also saw the car and soon enough there was an exchange of gunfire but mostly it was Clarence sending tracers at it but the car veered into a curb and came to a stop, the driver slumped over the steering wheel. Gustav also saw the car and could have sworn he saw a woman get out of the passenger side. Earlier he had given away their position by panic firing his machine gun at what he thought were soldiers behind a pile of rubble.

The car incident also alerted the crew of the Pershing that the German tank was still there and wanted to continue on to the bridge but Clarence was not about to put his crew out in the open for an attack. Using his shooting skills, he sent numerous armor piercing rounds at the building blocking their view, practically cutting it in half. The German Mark IV was covered with bricks and the men had trouble opening their hatches but a strange thing happened. A civilian man approached their tank asking how things were going. Rolf managed to open his hatch to speak with the man long enough to find out the bridge had been blown up.

The mood inside the tank had suddenly shifted. There were suggestions for a suicide move to challenge the American tank but Gustav was not going along with it, insisting there was nothing else to do. He opened his hatch and climbed down the tank onto the street and amazingly his tank commander and friend Rolf did the same. The rest of the crew proceeded with their plan and disappeared as they turned the street corner. The gun turret had been jammed by the falling debris from the building and it is a mystery what happened to them.

For Clarence and the Pershing crew the fighting was just beginning as a a German Panther awaited them at the foot of the grand cathedral to wage the final battle.

This epic battle was documented in film for the world to see, but this fact was not known until things settled and Clarence and his crew emerged from their tank. The still shot of the film is colorized for Adam Mako’s latest book Spearhead which is a terrifying but exciting tale of courage, honor, and the friendships forged in the battlefield. While Clarence and some of the men featured in this book were still alive during Mako’s research phase, only Clarence and another infantry soldier remain. Clarence went home after the war and did not talk about is service until recent years. Mako’s sensitive and careful storytelling deliver a compelling narrative of the end of the war, its effect on soldiers fighting on both sides, imparting the greater humanity behind the inhumanity of war. You should not miss this book. Makos goes to great lengths to make complex information about the M4 Sherman’s trajectory throughout the war and the difficulties faced by tank crews who had to work in equipment that was ineffective against the more technologically advanced German tanks. He explains the technical stuff with ease to help the reader visualize what is described.

Fully knowing however, that finally the Pershing had been released, bringing hope in defeating the Germans, still the 3rd Armored Division had lost so many tanks and men that the shift in the winds was long overdue. The men of the Spearhead regardless of their technological shortcomings, in particular the leadership and zeal with which men like Clarence Smoyer fought, should bring a smile to your face. He lived to meet his German counterpart Gustav long after the war and as old men they became friends and solved a dilemma that had plagued Clarence since the end of the war. Makos has a website where he is not shy to show you the outcome of the battle but you just have to watch these videos and the book is a gem, plain and simple. It is wonderful that young writers like Makos have undertaken the task of writing about World War II and help preserve great feats in our military history.

For the lay reader I have to say the closest I’ve been to a tank was the time at Twenty Nine Palms – The Stumps – as part of a training team I had to climb on top of a M1A1 Abrams to show junior Navy Corpsmen how to extricate a simulated tank casualty (I believe the dummy was seated in the gunner’s position) and I had no intention of climbing down into the compartment. I let the young guys do that while I gave them instructions. I only know one tanker from Vietnam at my local VFW and we’re always giving him a hard time. No idea what these guys have gone through in war, they keep their cool. I came away from this book understanding the tank culture and the conditions they work in much more than before and anyone reading this book will probably find it equally edifying. SPEARHEAD will leave you craving the action with every page you turn and cheering for the good guys but also for the enemies as they too just wanted to go home. Sorry to take a long time to get this review. I’ve been milking this book for some time because I kept going over previous chapters because I was reading too fast. It is very good. I hope you enjoy this book as much as I have.

Watch the trailer for the book, this footage is amazing.

If knowledge is power, then can’t humans influence or control their futures? Or can they? In Chloe Benjamin’s tale of four siblings, Klara, Varya, Simon, and Daniel Gold, whose lives were changed one day as children, after they met with “The Woman”. The siblings made a pact to visit with a purported soothsayer in New York City one summer; the last summer of their childhood and perhaps the beginning of the end. Each child received in private audience with the strange woman, who moved from city to city to avoid being targeted, and each learned something about themselves. They also asked to know the day they were going to die.

“This is for you only. Don’t tell the others.”

A somewhat predictable series of profiles of each character at first may be a reason to skip ahead or even to stop reading. I stopped and started the book all over again with an open mind and found myself unable to switch the light off in bed and turning to the next profile until the final unraveling of this raw and twisted journey. The prose is shocking and takes the reader to uncomfortable places, but a necessary evil, for the story will make more sense if the reader surrenders to it. It won’t do any good to yell at each character not to follow a trajectory in life – like one would in a theater watching a horror movie – but you can try. The Immortalists may either live happily ever after in one’s mind in a fog of their past innocence or a crash course we get to witness over and over. You have your truth. You decide.

This is an excellent book.

The moment the young and unemployed women of Orange, New Jersey got word of a new military watch plant offering high paying jobs to paint watch dials, the hustle was on. Not only were young adult women soon applying for the coveted positions, but once hired on they brought other girls to join the company. Some were sisters and friends, and cousins and many started out in their mid-teens. In spite of being underage, the management allowed these girls to work. The perks were many in addition to the great salary. There were social events such as picnics and get togethers for the employees in the working class city, and the girls practically overnight attained a higher status. Money bought pretty things they couldn’t otherwise afford and the young women in turn would help their families. The work, if mastered, was more on the artistic side rather than normal factory labor. All they had learn was to maintain the tip of a very thin brush pointed so that the luminous paint they applied onto the watch dials would go on smoothly and neatly.

The moment the young and unemployed women of Orange, New Jersey got word of a new military watch plant offering high paying jobs to paint watch dials, the hustle was on. Not only were young adult women soon applying for the coveted positions, but once hired on they brought other girls to join the company. Some were sisters and friends, and cousins and many started out in their mid-teens. In spite of being underage, the management allowed these girls to work. The perks were many in addition to the great salary. There were social events such as picnics and get togethers for the employees in the working class city, and the girls practically overnight attained a higher status. Money bought pretty things they couldn’t otherwise afford and the young women in turn would help their families. The work, if mastered, was more on the artistic side rather than normal factory labor. All they had learn was to maintain the tip of a very thin brush pointed so that the luminous paint they applied onto the watch dials would go on smoothly and neatly.

They were taught to put the tip of the brush to their lips to reshape it, then dipped it in the paint, then applied it to the dials. This process would go on for hours and the girls would be paid more and received other incentives if they worked on more dials than they were assigned to paint. After all, it was 1917 and American troops were soon to be shipped to Europe to fight in the great war, and these watches were part of their patriotic duty. Except the paint contained radium, which was toxic. The U.S. Radium Corporation and its management insisted the ingestion of the radium paint was harmless. They might even get rosey cheeked and improve their complexions, plant manager once quipped. Radium was just that sexy at the turn of the century, spiralling into a frenzied campaign to invent ways of integrating its use into commonplace products, such as cosmetics and even as a health supplement supposed to make people glow with great health. It was the miracle cure to everything. The compound, thanks to the Curie’s research and discovery, could destroy tumors. Sure, anything that could kill cancerous tissue had to be good for people.

The women were taught to put the tip of the brush to their lips to reshape it, then dipped it in the paint, then applied it to the dials. This process would go on for hours and the girls would be paid more and received other incentives if they worked on more dials than they were assigned to paint. After all, it was 1917 and American troops were soon to be shipped to Europe to fight in the great war, and these watches were part of their patriotic duty. Except the paint contained radium, which was toxic. The U.S. Radium Corporation and its management insisted the ingestion of the radium paint was harmless and went above and beyond, even in the obvious signs of radiation poisoning plaguing the women. The company faced lawsuits and bad publicity while the women struggled to find an attorney to take their case. The cases for many of the women – who died before they could collect damages – went well into the 1930s.

This best seller published last March is still a popular book and wanted to include it in this month’s reviews. A great but somber tribute to women sacrificing their lives for what they thought was the greater good. Moore’s research was extensive and focused on the women themselves, their lives, their loves and hopes and their desperate journey towards a horrible death. While there are many accounts of these poisoning cases, Moore manages to draw in the reader into the lives of these young women and offers descriptive images of the effects of radiation without being gory. The photographs in the book showed the women before their ordeal in the best of health and happiness rather than linger on the technical and scientific narrative though she does cover these points very well.

The story of these women should be told every generation as to not forget their suffering.

The Radium Girls: The dark story of America’s shining women is on sale. Grab your copy while they last.

You’d think that a man who was the ninth Governor of Virginia, a Lieutenant Colonel in the First Continental Light Dragoons, close friend to George Washington, fairly wealthy on his own and married into even more money; Maj General Harry “Light Horse” Lee would have had a life of success all through the end as in many fairy tales. But fate often steps in and offers no refuge from danger. Few of those who fought during the revolution escaped imprisonment, death, poverty and other ills. There were many sacrifices made by so many and Henry Lee was no different, but his greatest sacrifices would come later on in his life. However, Henry Lee – the father of Robert E. Lee – had everything going for him and up until he left service in the Continental Army, he was somewhat on the right path. His social status and background and horsemanship prepared him for a career in service in the army and one could say he was born to be a soldier. He was eager to travel to Richmond when the call for arms came and secured a commission at the beginning of the revolutionary war.

Life does not always reward excellent accomplishments and sacrifices, however he did receive great rewards early on to make any man envious. And jealousy certain marked his audacious and unparalleled service during the Revolutionary war. He had a way of either inspiring other men to follow while many of his fellow officers went as far as to instigate a report against him that landed him at a Courts Martial. Even then Henry Lee proved he was pretty invincible. Lee’s personal association with Washington often worked as a shield from his detractors. Henry Lee spent his late twenties and early thirties in non-stop combat when he finally gave in to battle fatigue and mental distress. He became even more self-critical that his fellow countrymen and the public had not been appraised of his courageous deeds when in reality he truly was a hero of heroes in the eyes of the Americans. Not even his beloved general Nathanael Greene could convince him that while he sure could use some leave back home to recharge, his warning that he would never be anything but a career soldier went unheeded. Greene offered Lee the chance to continue his service, but Lee had made the decision to leave following the American victory at Yorktown. Even after Cornwallis surrendered. He had made up his mind to quit and go home to get married.

Indeed, Henry Lee packed up his things and rode home to Alexandria just the same, still feeling he had not been lauded enough for his troubles. This he did do splendidly, marrying the woman of his dreams, who had recently become very wealthy, starting a family and running for office. Ryan Cole’s biography of Lee focuses as much on his military prowess as well as his upbringing and his social connections, showing a vivid image of life in Virginia. Cole’s descriptive passages on Lee’s leadership and bravery in combat are worthy of a movie and the stuff people should read to their children before bedtime. Many books have been written about Henry Lee but this one stands out because it is concerned with the man and his swift rise and even faster and tragic end and more on a personal level. In particular his struggles with his addiction to land prospecting which he frankly was not very good at and eventually would cause him to become imprisoned for owing money to too many people.

It is actually hard to read how quickly Henry Lee’s life deteriorated and spiralled out of control, hurting his family and friendships and his reputation, which was something he could never restore to its original glory. Cole builds up to this tragic end by going through the man’s money troubles after getting himself sent to jail for a year, but it wasn’t until after he was maimed during the Baltimore riots that his mind and body became so wounded he could never return to his old life. His physical and mental state forced Lee to finally find a way to leave all behind back home, the good and the bad, his family; in order to recover his health. Lee spent his time in his self-exile of several years in the West Indies sick, deformed, and still hustling a losing game of trades, borrowing what he could not repay and spending money he didn’t have until he found his way back to Georgia, to Nathanael Greene’s estate to die. Henry Lee is portrayed as a man trapped between two worlds where the old soldier’s soul shone brightly while his life as a family man and human being as the very thin line we all straddle to survive. Perhaps Greene was right; he should have stayed in the Army.

Light-Horse Harry Lee: The rise and fall of a revolutionary hero is an excellent read and highly recommended.

Rated – 5 stars

This site is dedicated to books logically, but mostly to the books I love to read and sell. While I sell mainly military and general history books, I will also review and sell more popular fiction if it’s exciting and new or if it’s historical fiction and other non-fiction titles. If you’re like me, you have books everywhere at home, in the car, at work, in a backpack by the door in case you’re stranded someplace with nothing to do but wait. Then you’re in the right place. I’ve collected books for at least 20 years even while serving in the military or deployed and at one time probably had a collection of 1,000 individual titles. Many have been sold from my private collection and I also purchase from estate sales when I see something neat. I’ve got wonderful book reviews lined up for you and I hope you enjoy them and take a few minutes to peruse thorough my growing inventory and maybe buy a book from me. Grab a chair and your favorite snack or drink and join me.