During World War II, thousands of American servicemen were taken prisoner by the Axis powers. They were beaten and tortured; over half never reached home again. Of those who did, many never fully recovered from what they saw, what they lived through, and the feelings that so racked their lives. Almost all have or had a drinking problem. Some suffer such consistently extreme flashbacks that they are forced to use sleeping medication just to help them make it through the night. The ten interviews included in this work were chosen from dozens of contact POW accounts. Theirs are stories of hardship, pain, survival, and at times, enlightenment. From the introduction to Mario Garbin's interview: Mario was one of the more fortunate POWs who put to use in his later life what he learned from his incarceration. At the present, he is retired from over twenty-six years of service with the Chrysler corporation. . . . Although powerful and charismatic, he still cried uncontrollably during one portion of the interview and had to pause several times to keep his composure in other portions. Hidden in the tales of these men is a message we can all relate to, making this book a must read not only for the ex-POW or World War II history buff, but for any reader who cares about life and freedom.

Many Allied POWs in the Pacific theater of World War II suffered terribly. But abuse wasn't a matter of Japanese policy, as is commonly assumed. Sarah Kovner shows poorly trained guards and rogue commanders inflicted the most horrific damage. Camps close to centers of imperial power tended to be less violent, and many POWs died from friendly fire.

"For residents of the mostly small towns where these camps were located, the arrival of enemy POWs engendered a range of emotions - first fear and apprehension, then curiosity, and finally, in many cases, a feeling of fondness for the men they had come to know and like."--BOOK JACKET.

During World War II, thousands of Axis prisoners of war were held throughout Nebraska in base camps that included Fort Robinson, Camp Scottsbluff and Camp Atlanta. Many Nebraskans did not view the POWs as "evil Nazis." To them, they were ordinary men and very human. And while their stay was not entirely free from conflict, many former captives returned to the Cornhusker State to begin new lives after the cessation of hostilities. Drawing on first-person accounts from soldiers, former POWs and Nebraska residents, as well as archival research, Melissa Marsh delves into the neglected history of Nebraska's POW camps.

Scores of WWII POWs offer lessons of wartime as they remember the terror and hardship of their days in captivity.

Chronicling a lesser-known aspect of World War II, this glimpse into secret history re-creates the world of Aliceville, Alabama, during the war, when as many as 6,000 German prisoners-of-war (POWs) and 1,000 military police guards set up camp and stayed for almost three years. It discusses how the residents of Aliceville helped build, operate, and supply the camp, as well as become inextricably intertwined with camp life and the soldiers being held there. Uncovering what being treated well by the enemy meant in the lives of these POWs, this relevant and fascinating story investigates the nature of war and the principles of human dignity in the midst of America's seemingly unending war on terror, which has brought "Geneva Convention" back into common vocabulary along with questions about what is appropriate treatment of enemies and how future generations are affected by such treatment.

Examining the largest prisoner-of-war handling operation in U.S. history, this book offers a meticulous account of the myriad history, this book offers a meticulous account of the myriad problems—as well as the impressive successes—that came with problems—as well as the impressive successes—that came with housing 371,000 German POWs on American soil during World War II. Antonio Thompson draws on extensive archival research to probe the various ways in which the U.S. government strove to comply with the Geneva Convention’s mandate that enemy prisoners be moved from the war zone and given food, shelter, and clothing equal to that provided for American soldiers. While the prisoners became a ready source of manpower for the labor- starved American home front and received small wages in return, their stay in the United States generated more than a few difficulties, which included not only daunting logistics but also violence within the camps. Such violence was often blamed on Nazi influence and control; however, as Thompson points out, only a few of the prisoners were actually Nazis. Because the Germans had cobbled together military forces that included convicts, their own POWs, volunteers from neutral nations, and conscripts from occupied countries, the bonds that held these soldiers together amid the pressures of combat dissolved once they were placed behind barbed wire. When these “men in German uniform,” who were not always Germans, donned POW garb, their former social, racial, religious, and ethnic tensions quickly reemerged. To counter such troubles, American authorities organized various activities—including sports, arts, education, and religion—within the POW camps; some prisoners even participated in an illegal denazification program created by the U.S. government. Despite the problems, Thompson argues, the POW-housing program proved largely successful, as Americans maintained their reputation for fairness and humane treatment during a time of widespread turmoil.