Though America did not join rebellious Cuban forces against the Spanish empire until 1898, Frederick Funston (1865-1917) was so moved by a speech by Gen. Daniel Sickles in 1896 that he went to Cuba as a filibuster in the battle for Cuban independence. When the United States finally went to war against Spain, he took command of a regiment, was sent to the Philippine-American War, and received the Medal of Honor for his daring and skill in crossing a river to turn the flank of the Philippine army at the Battle of Calumpit. Two years later, in 1901, he became a national hero for capturing Philippine president and lead insurgent Emilio Aguinaldo. In such roles, Funston was integral to the successful implementation of U.S. policy. This book is his first-hand account of his adventures in the Cuban Revolution and the Philippine-American war. He describes the guerrilla-style combat necessitated by the lack of weapons, the exotic scenery and vegetation of the islands, and the myriad characters-- Cuban, American, Spanish, and Philippine-- with whom he worked and fought.

This is a masterful volume on remembrance and war in the twentieth century. Jay Winter locates the fascination with the subject of memory within a long-term trajectory that focuses on the Great War. Images, languages, and practices that appeared during and after the two world wars focused on the need to acknowledge the victims of war and shaped the ways in which future conflicts were imagined and remembered. At the core of the "memory boom" is an array of collective meditations on war and the victims of war, Winter says. The book begins by tracing the origins of contemporary interest in memory, then describes practices of remembrance that have linked history and memory, particularly in the first half of the twentieth century. The author also considers "theaters of memory"-film, television, museums, and war crimes trials in which the past is seen through public representations of memories. The book concludes with reflections on the significance of these practices for the cultural history of the twentieth century as a whole.

For many Cubans, Fidel Castro's Revolution represented deliverance from a legacy of inequality and national disappointment. For others—especially those exiled in the United States—Cuba's turn to socialism made the prerevolutionary period look like paradise lost. Michael J. Bustamante unsettles this familiar schism by excavating Cubans' contested memories of the Revolution's roots and results over its first twenty years. Cubans' battles over the past, he argues, not only defied simple political divisions; they also helped shape the course of Cuban history itself. As the Revolution unfolded, the struggle over historical memory was triangulated among revolutionary leaders in Havana, expatriate organizations in Miami, and average Cuban citizens. All Cubans leveraged the past in individual ways, but personal memories also collided with the Cuban state's efforts to institutionalize a singular version of the Revolution's story. Drawing on troves of archival materials, including visual media, Bustamante tracks the process of what he calls retrospective politics across the Florida Straits. In doing so, he drives Cuban history beyond the polarized vision seemingly set in stone today and raises the prospect of a more inclusive national narrative.

“Stunning photographs” and firsthand accounts propel a book that “brings together the memories of more than 200 child survivors of the Blitz” (Daily Mail). It was not just the upheaval caused by evacuation and the blitzes that changed a generation’s childhood, it was how war pervaded every aspect of life. From dodging bombs by bicycle and patrolling the parish with the vicar’s WWI pistol, to post air raid naps in school and being carried out of the rubble as the family’s sole survivor, children experienced life in the war zone that was Britain. This reality, the reality of a life spent growing up during the Second World War, is best told through the eyes of the children who experienced it firsthand. Children in the Second World War unites the memories of over two hundred child veterans to tell the tragic and the remarkable stories of life, and of youth, during the war. Each veteran gives a unique insight into a childhood that was unlike any that came before or after. This book poignantly illustrates the presence of death and perseverance in the lives of children through this tumultuous period. Each account enlightens and touches the reader, shedding light on what it was really like on the home front during the Second World War.

Finalist, National Book Critics Circle Award Finalist, National Book Award in Nonfiction A New York Times Book Review “The Year in Reading” Selection All wars are fought twice, the first time on the battlefield, the second time in memory. From the author of the Pulitzer Prize–winning novel The Sympathizer comes a searching exploration of the conflict Americans call the Vietnam War and Vietnamese call the American War—a conflict that lives on in the collective memory of both nations. “[A] gorgeous, multifaceted examination of the war Americans call the Vietnam War—and which Vietnamese call the American War...As a writer, [Nguyen] brings every conceivable gift—wisdom, wit, compassion, curiosity—to the impossible yet crucial work of arriving at what he calls ‘a just memory’ of this war.” —Kate Tuttle, Los Angeles Times “In Nothing Ever Dies, his unusually thoughtful consideration of war, self-deception and forgiveness, Viet Thanh Nguyen penetrates deeply into memories of the Vietnamese war...[An] important book, which hits hard at self-serving myths.” —Jonathan Mirsky, Literary Review “Ultimately, Nguyen’s lucid, arresting, and richly sourced inquiry, in the mode of Susan Sontag and W. G. Sebald, is a call for true and just stories of war and its perpetual legacy.” —Donna Seaman, Booklist (starred review)