In How to Feed an Army: Recipes and Lore From the Front Lines (Collins, $15.95), J. G. Lewin and P. J. Huff survey the solutions to a problem that, as they say, has been vexing our armed forces “from the day Thomas Mifflin took over as the first quartermaster general in August 1775.” Dozens of recipes chart the gustatory history of the American soldier, most of them giving directions on how to feed 100 troops and, should this be beyond the needs of the reader, 10. The offerings include “slow roasted rabbit” from the War of 1812; the famously obdurate hardtack of the Civil War; “Sweet and Sour Frankfurters” from the Vietnam years; and an advanced-sounding delicacy enjoyed by our forces in Iraq, “Zesty Rotini Pasta Salad.” But lest the zest of the rotini beguile us from the bitter realities of war, here is a trio of sandwiches in the War Department’s 1942 TM-405: Technical Manual for the Army Cook: “bean rarebit—baked beans, chopped cheese, chopped onions, salt, pepper, and catsup; nut and raisin—chopped nuts, chopped raisins, mayonnaise; tuna fish and beet—flaked tuna, minced cooked beets, mayonnaise, salt, and also pepper (can also substitute salmon or sardines).”
U.S. military leaders drew up elaborate plans to invade Japan, with estimates of American casualties ranging as high as two to four million, given the terrible losses at Iwo Jima and Okinawa.
As defeat became inevitable in the summer of 1945, Japan's government and the Allies could not agree on surrender terms, especially regarding the future of Emperor Hirohito and his throne.
Nearly killed by a German bomb, Pyle faced the fear and frustration known as “Anzio anxiety” among the American soldiers trapped with him on the beach.
Paul Douglas was 50 years old when he left a career in politics to join the Marines at the outset of World War II, earning Purple Hearts at Peleliu and Okinawa.
When judging the morality of the use of atomic weapons in World War II, observers typically focus on Japanese deaths, while ignoring the far-larger number of non-Japanese casualties.
In the spring of 1945, American bombing raids destroyed much of Tokyo and dozens of other Japanese cities, killing at least 200,000 people, without forcing a surrender.
The U.S. government managed to hide the magnitude of what happened in Hiroshima until John Hersey’s story appeared in the New Yorker, driving home the truth about America’s new mega-weapon.