This British Commando’s WWII memoir recounts his attempt to escape Japanese-occupied Burma and his harrowing experiences as a POW. This is the extraordinary story of Lance Corporal Fred Goode, a British Commando stationed in Burma in 1941. Cut off behind enemy lines the following year, Goode walked 2,000 miles towards India and freedom, but was betrayed to Japanese forces only 20 miles short of his destination. Tortured by the infamous Kempeitai—Imperial Japan’s military police—Goode was then sent to Rangoon's notorious Central Jail, where he remained a prisoner of war until Japan’s surrender. Goode was one of fifty men sent to Burma to support and train Chinese forces fighting in Japanese-occupied China. With Japan's entry into World War II in December of that year, their mission expanded to include destroying airfields and taking bullion to India. When they were overtaken by enemy forces before crossing the Irrawaddy River, their commanding officer instructed them to split into four groups and head for India or Yunnan. Of the original fifty, only eight survived.

The fiercest urban battle in recent history, to retake the city of Mosul from ISIS, lasted nine months. Thousands were killed, millions displaced. How to help in such a massive and desperate situation? This is the story of how one small organization from Burma answered that question: go. Give up your own way, help the people, share love. As coalition forces, led by brave Iraqi soldiers on the ground, slowly pushed ISIS out, the brutality of the terrorists was turned against thousands of civilians as they fled the fighting. There was no humanitarian template for responding to such ruthlessness; to attempt to help would take total commitment. Birthed in the war zones of Burma to stand with villagers under attack by the Burma Army and provide medical care, relief, and reporting, the Free Burma Rangers came to Mosul with twenty years of war zone experience in the jungle. Led by their founder, David Eubank, a former Ranger and U.S. Special Forces officer, medics, and cameramen from the teams in Burma, other foreign volunteers, and Dave’s wife and three children, came to fill the gap between the frontlines and the humanitarian community. They came living by the conviction that every person counts and the only force that can defeat hate is love. Four team members were wounded and one killed as they lived out that conviction with total commitment. This is their story.

A frontline witness account of the deadly urban combat of the Battle of Mosul told by former Navy SEAL and frontline combat medic Ephraim Mattos. After leaving the US Navy SEAL teams in spring of 2017, Ephraim Mattos, age twenty-four, flew to Iraq to join a small group of volunteer humanitarians known as the Free Burma Rangers, who were working on the frontlines of the war on ISIS. Until being shot by ISIS on a suicidal rescue mission, Mattos witnessed unexplainable acts of courage and sacrifice by the Free Burma Rangers, who, while under heavy machine gun and mortar fire, assaulted across ISIS minefields, used themselves as human shields, and sprinted down ISIS-infested streets-all to retrieve wounded civilians. In City of Death: Humanitarian Warriors in the Battle of Mosul, Mattos recounts in vivid detail what he saw and felt while he and the other Free Burma Rangers evacuated the wounded, conducted rescue missions, and at times fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the Iraqi Army against ISIS. Filled with raw and emotional descriptions of what it's like to come face-to-face with death, this is the harrowing and uplifting true story of a small group of men who risked everything to save the lives of the Iraqi people and who followed the credence, "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." As the coauthor of the #1 New York Times bestselling American Sniper, Scott McEwen has teamed up with Mattos to help share an unforgettable tale of an American warrior turned humanitarian forced to fight his way into and out of a Hell on Earth created by ISIS.

From June 1942 to October 1943, more than 100,000 Allied POWs who had been forced into slave labor by the Japanese died building the infamous Burma-Thailand Death Railway, an undertaking immortalized in the film "The Bridge on the River Kwai." One of the few who survived was American Marine H. Robert Charles, who describes the ordeal in vivid and harrowing detail in Last Man Out. The story mixes the unimaginable brutality of the camps with the inspiring courage of the men, including a Dutch Colonial Army doctor whose skill and knowledge of the medicinal value of wild jungle herbs saved the lives of hundreds of his fellow POWs, including the author.

For decades Myanmar has been portrayed as a case of good citizen versus bad regime – men in jackboots maintaining a suffocating rule over a majority Buddhist population beholden to the ideals of non-violence and tolerance. But in recent years this narrative has been upended. In June 2012, violence between Buddhists and Muslims erupted in western Myanmar, pointing to a growing divide between religious communities that before had received little attention from the outside world. Attacks on Muslims soon spread across the country, leaving hundreds dead, entire neighbourhoods turned to rubble, and tens of thousands of Muslims confined to internment camps. This violence, breaking out amid the passage to democracy, was spurred on by monks, pro-democracy activists and even politicians. In this gripping and deeply reported account, Francis Wade explores how the manipulation of identities by an anxious ruling elite has laid the foundations for mass violence, and how, in Myanmar’s case, some of the most respected and articulate voices for democracy have turned on the Muslim population at a time when the majority of citizens are beginning to experience freedoms unseen for half a century.

This is an attempt to study and interpret the Constitution of the Union of Burma which has now passed its tenth year. A constitution read outside the context of constitutional history is incomplete, and I have, therefore, tried to trace the developments which culminated in the constitution; then study its important features with reference, where necessary, to the background in which they took shape and form; and, while studying how the constitution has been working, touch lightly on contemporary events and trends. It is a vast canvas I am trying to cover and what I am able to draw on it would inevitably be sketchy. But I do not write as a historian whose focus is on detail in a narrow area. Rather, having dug and gathered the facts, I trace their sweep in history. The details I willingly and happily leave to the historians, hoping only that my study will be of some use to them, if only as a target for their learned criticism. Some of the events and people I describe are still too near, and a clear perspective is therefore difficult. What is nearest appears biggest, and I often find it tempting to see and accept that Burma's history as a new independent nation began with the students' strike of 1936 or the resistance movement during the Second World War.