Captain Humbert Roque Versace, affectionately called "Rocky," was an officer of the United States Army.
He went on to receive the Medal of Honor-the greatest military decoration of the United States-for the heroic actions he undertook as a prisoner of war in the Vietnam War. Puerto Rican-Italian by descent, he was the first member of the U.S. Army to have ever received such a distinction.
Born on July 2, 1937, in Honolulu, Hawaii, Versace was the eldest of five children. Versace's father was Colonel Humbert Joseph Versace (1911–1972), and his mother was Marie Teresa Ríos (1917–1999) who authored three books, which includes the popular work 'Fifteenth Pelican,' on which the 1960s starred Sally Field as 'The Flying Nun' was based. Having grown up in Alexandria, Virginia, Versace attended Gonzaga College High School in Washington, D.C. during his freshman and sophomore years, Frankfurt American High School in his junior year, and after graduating from Norfolk Catholic High School in his senior year, enrolled in the Armed Forces from Norfolk in Virginia.
Following in the footsteps of his father, Versace graduated from the West Point U.S. Military Academy in 1959 and entered the United States Army as a Second Lieutenant of Armor.
During his time in Ranger School, Versace was a member of Ranger Class 4-60. On December 18, 1959, he received the Ranger Tab. Once he graduated from Ranger School, Versace-who was now promoted to Captain, attended Airborne School where he was awarded the parachutist badge.
Thereafter, he went on to serve with the 3rd Battalion, 40th Armor, 1st Cavalry Division in the Republic of Korea as an M-48 tank platoon leader-a post that he continued from March 1960 to April 1961.
Versace started his first tour of duty in war-torn Vietnam in the capacity of an intelligence advisor starting May 12, 1962. Just a year later, in May 1963, Versace put in a request for an extension of his tour by six months.
He wanted to attend seminary at the conclusion of his service and join the Catholic priesthood, in hopes that he could thereafter return to Vietnam to work with the orphans as a missionary.
At just about two weeks before his tour was to end on October 29, 1963, on a friendly visit to a classmate from the Military Academy in Detachment A-23 of 5th Special Forces Group in the Mekong Delta, Versace accompanied numerous South Vietnamese Civilian Irregular Defense (CIDG) troop companies.
They had attacked a command post located in the U-Minh Forest, which was a stronghold area of the Viet Cong. Versace's unit was ambushed and overrun by a Main Force battalion of the Viet Cong, and Versace himself got gravely wounded. However, even in his critical state, he could provide enough firepower to allow the CIDG forces to retreat from the killing zone.
Although a 200-strong second government force that operated from a few thousand yards from the site of the ambush learned of the mishap, they were far too late to be of any help.
According to U.S. authorities, there were communist radio jammers that had blocked the main channel as well as the alternate channel on all local military radios-which contributed to the delay.
A captured Versace was locked up in a prison that existed in the deeper areas of the jungle. With him were two other American prisoners of war - Sergeant Dan Pitzer and Lieutenant Nick Rowe. Even in his state, a valiant Versace tried to escape four times, however, he got caught every time.
Versace, however, continued to resist the torture of Viet Cong by insulting them during indoctrination sessions and repeatedly quoting the Geneva Convention treaty.
Due to his persistent behavior, Versace was separated from the other prisoners by the Viet Cong. The prisoners reportedly last heard his voice singing "God Bless America," loudly and proudly, which they believe were indeed his last words.
On September 26, 1965, the "Liberation Radio" of North Vietnam announced Captain Humbert Roque Versace's execution. Versace's remains were never recovered, and his headstone, which can easily be located in the Memorial section MG-108, stands on an empty grave at Arlington National Cemetery.
Once Versace's parents gained knowledge of the fate of their son, Marie and her husband, Colonel Versace, decided to find out everything they could the circumstances in which the tragedy had happened.
Marie went to Paris in the late 1960s to see the North Vietnamese delegation that had come to Paris to negotiate a peace deal. However, she was unsuccessful in her attempts and expressed her frustration and anguish through poems.
Although Versace was nominated for the Medal of Honor in 1969, the attempt failed, and Versace received a posthumous Silver Star instead. It was only when the "Friends of Rocky Versace" reinitiated the cause of getting Versace a much-deserved Medal of Honor did the matter come back into the limelight.
Finally, in 2002, the Defense Authorization Act ended the standoff by awarding the Medal of Honor – the most prestigious military decoration for combat valor to Versace.
On July 8, 2002, in a ceremony in the East Room of the White House, then-President George W. Bush awarded Versace a posthumous Medal of Honor for his heroic actions.
This was the first time in history that an Army POW had ever been awarded the very highest military distinction for showing immense courage in the face of captivity.
The surviving siblings of Rocky Versace-Dr. Stephen Versace, Richard, Michael, and Trilby Versace were present at the ceremony.
On November 7, 2008, an announcement was made by the Department of the Army, which revoked the Silver Star awarded to Versace as he had received the Medal of Honor.
Medal of Honor citation:
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while a prisoner of war during the period of October 29, 1963 to September 26, 1965, in the Republic of Vietnam.
While accompanying a Civilian Irregular Defense Group patrol engaged in combat operations in Thoi Binh District, An Xuyen Province, Republic of Vietnam on October 29, 1963, Captain Versace and the CIDG assault force were caught in an ambush from intense mortar, automatic weapons, and small arms fire from elements of a reinforced enemy Main Force battalion.
As the battle raged, Captain Versace fought valiantly and encouraged his CIDG patrol to return fire against overwhelming enemy forces. He provided covering fire from an exposed position to enable friendly forces to withdraw from the killing zone when it was apparent that their position would be overrun and was severely wounded in the knee and back from automatic weapons fire and shrapnel. He stubbornly resisted capture with the last full measure of his strength and ammunition.
Taken prisoner by the Viet Cong, he demonstrated exceptional leadership and resolute adherence to the tenets of the Code of Conduct from the time he entered into a prisoner of war status. Captain Versace assumed command of his fellow American prisoners, and despite being kept locked in irons in an isolation box, raised their morale by singing messages to popular songs of the day, and leaving inspiring messages at the latrine.
Within three weeks of captivity, and despite the severity of his untreated wounds, he attempted the first of four escape attempts by dragging himself on his hands and knees out of the camp through a dense swamp and forbidding vegetation to freedom. Crawling at a very slow pace due to his weakened condition, the guards quickly discovered him outside the camp and recaptured him. Captain Versace scorned the enemy's exhaustive interrogation and indoctrination efforts and inspired his fellow prisoners to resist to the best of their ability.
When he used his Vietnamese language skills to protest the improper treatment of the American prisoners by the guards, he was put into leg irons and gagged to keep his protestations out of earshot of the other American prisoners in the camp. The last time that any of his fellow prisoners heard from him, Captain Versace was singing God Bless America at the top of his voice from his isolation box.
Unable to break his indomitable will, his faith in God, and his trust in the United States of America and his fellow prisoners, Captain Versace was executed by the Viet Cong on September 26, 1965.
Captain Versace's extraordinary heroism, self-sacrifice, and personal bravery involving conspicuous risk of life above and beyond the call of duty were in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Army and reflect great credit to himself and the U.S. Armed Forces.
Chickamauga, a bloody Civil War battle, fought near the Chickamauga Creek in Georgia. The battle ended in a victory for Confederate forces and resulted in 34,000 casualties. It marked the end of a Union offensive in southeastern Tennessee and northwestern Georgia, known as the Chickamauga Campaign. It is widely considered to be the second deadliest battle of the Civil War, following the Battle of Gettysburg.
In the summer of 1863, Maj. Gen. William Rosecrans led his Union Army of the Cumberland from Murfreesboro, Tennessee, towards Chattanooga, 140 miles to the south. Chattanooga was an important rail junction for the South. The goal was to use the Federal army of about 60,000 to surround the city and cut off escape for Gen. Braxton Bragg and his Army of the Tennessee numbering about 40,000.
As the Union Army approached Chattanooga in early September, Bragg and his army abandoned the city and retreated to Chickamauga Creek, just 12 miles away. There they awaited reinforcements. More than 30,000 Confederate troops poured in, boosting morale. Now on the offensive, the Confederates set out on the morning of September 18, 1863, to cross two bridges on the Chickamauga Creek. They encountered Union infantry and cavalrymen armed with Spencer repeating rifles blocking the way. Skirmishes ensued, but Bragg's army eventually made it across the creek.
As evening approached, the Confederates encountered Union troops north of Lee and Gordon's Mills. Rosecrans huddled with George Thomas, a Union general, to strategize and hold open a path of retreat back to Chattanooga for Union forces. Thomas gathered troops and marched through the night to extend Union lines northward and guarantee safe passage. After marching all night, the weary and thirsty soldiers stopped to prepare breakfast near a farm owned by Elijah Kelly. Thomas soon learned that an isolated enemy force was nearby in the woods. He sent a division of his men eastward to contend with them. Fighting broke out in earnest and intensified as it spread across an area covering four miles.
The battle raged throughout September 19th. Confederate forces pounded away at the Union line but were not able to break it, leaving both sides exhausted. As night fell, temperatures dropped, and soldiers endured a night of freezing temperatures. The dead and wounded littered the fields, including Merritt J. Simonds of the 42nd Illinois, Company K. He lay wounded on the battlefield for nearly a week before being attended to. On October 8th, he wrote his father a letter saying he had been severely wounded but was optimistic for recovery. He wrote a second letter on October 27th, saying, "My leg is now mortifying above the knee, and doctors say I cannot live more than two days at the longest. You must not take this to heart but look to a higher source for God's comfort, for it is God's will and I feel resigned to my fate, I would like to have my body taken home and buried beside my mother." Simonds died shortly after, and his remains lie in Chattanooga National Cemetery.
On the morning of September 20th, Bragg planned a dawn attack against Union forces, but a breakdown in communication delayed the first engagement until 9:30 a.m. This allowed Federal soldiers time to organize and set up a defense. In the late morning, incorrect information was transmitted to Rosecrans, stating that a gap had developed in the Union line. While attempting to shore up the gap, he inadvertently moved units and created an actual gap. Confederates quickly exploited the weakness and surged through and pushed 1/3 of the Union army, including Rosecrans, off the field. Union soldiers began to retreat. Some of them, however, created a defensive line on Horseshoe Ridge near the farm of George Snodgrass. They held the ridge until evening allowing more Union soldiers to retreat, but the Confederates earned the victory.
Moe Berg's life proves the adage that "truth is often stranger than fiction." One of the best-educated, intellectually accomplished and patriotic Jewish athletes in the history of American sports, Berg got his start in baseball in 1906, at the age of four, playing catch with the beat policeman in front of his father's Newark, NJ, pharmacy. Berg became an excellent linguist while an undergraduate student at Princeton University, where he studied Latin, Greek, French, Spanish, Italian, German and Sanskrit. He began his career as a spy on a hospital roof in Japan.
After graduating from high school at the top of his class, Moe went to Princeton, an unusual accomplishment for a poor Jewish boy in the 1920s. He became the star shortstop of the college baseball team, graduated magna cum laude and was offered a teaching post in Princeton's Department of Romance Languages. Wanting to study experimental phonetics at the Sorbonne but unable to afford graduate study overseas, Berg accepted a contract to play shortstop for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Moe's hitting was below par and he was sent to the minors after the 1924 season. It was Moe who inspired a professional scout to coin the immortal baseball phrase, "Good field, no hit." One teammate said, "Moe, I don't care how many of them college degrees you got, they ain't learned you to hit that curveball no better than the rest of us."
Berg returned to the majors in 1926 with the Chicago White Sox. At the same time, he attended Columbia Law School. Despite his hectic schedule, the brilliant Berg managed to finish second in his class at Columbia. That year, the White Sox asked him to play catcher, a position that took advantage of his strong arm and intelligence. Casey Stengel compared Berg's defensive skills to the immortal Bill Dickey. Moe hit .287 in 1929 and received votes for Most Valuable Player but in 1930 he seriously injured his knee, ending his career as a full-time player. He played as a reserve for three more teams until he retired in 1939.
In 1934, Berg toured Japan with a group of major-league all-stars, including Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig. Still respected as a linguist, Moe was invited to lecture at Meiji University, where he delivered an eloquent speech in Japanese. Apparently, before the trip, the U.S. government had recruited Berg as a spy. While at a Tokyo hospital ostensibly visiting an American mother who had just given birth, he sneaked onto the roof and took photos of the city. Pilots reportedly later used the photos during bombing raids in World War II.
As a Jew wanting to fight Nazism, Berg volunteered to serve when America entered the war in 1941. He was asked to become a Goodwill Ambassador to Latin America. Before he left on his ambassadorial mission, Berg made a radio broadcast to the Japanese people over the radio in which, to quote his biographers Harold and Meir Ribalow, "In fluent Japanese, he pleaded at length, ‘as a friend of the Japanese people,' for the Japanese to avoid a war ‘you cannot win.'" The Ribalows report, "Berg's address was so effective that several Japanese confirmed afterward they had wept while listening."
After his stint in Latin America, Moe returned to the U.S. to work for the Office of Strategic Services, forerunner to the Central Intelligence Agency. He parachuted into Yugoslavia and, after meeting Tito, suggested that the U.S. back him rather than his Serbian rival.
Despite the fact that he was not a scientist, Berg was next assigned to help determine how close Germany was to developing an atomic bomb. In a few weeks studying textbooks, Berg taught himself a great deal about nuclear physics. Traveling through Europe, Berg discovered that a factory in Norway was producing an atomic bomb component for the Nazis and Allied planes bombed it. Berg then learned that the Nazis had an atomic research center at Duisberg, Germany, and it too was bombed.
Incognito, Berg managed to lure the leading German atomic physicist, Werner Heisenberg, to Switzerland to give a lecture on quantum theory. At a dinner afterward, Berg heard Heisenberg imply that Germany was behind the U.S. in bomb development. President Roosevelt greeted Berg's report warmly. At great risk as a Jew, Berg spent parts of 1944 and 1945 in Germany, helping arrange for the capture of several prominent German atomic scientists by U.S. troops before the Russians got them. At war's end, Berg was offered the Medal of Merit, the highest award given to a civilian in the war effort, but he modestly declined it. Moe lived out a quiet life in Newark, where he died at age 70.
Some of Berg's friends felt he squandered what could have been a brilliant career in law or academics to play baseball. His brother observed that "all [baseball] ever did was make him happy." His teammate Ted Lyons said, "A lot of people tried to tell him what to do with his life and brain and he retreated from this. He was different because he was different. He made up for all the bores of the world. And he did it softly, stepping on no one."
Sources: American Jewish Historical Society
Sgt. Maurice Pepper was a flight engineer for the RAF during World War II. He once received the Distinguished Flying Medal after safely landing a plane despite being wounded in both his hand and his knee.
On September 10, 1942, the 27-year-old was part of the crew aboard Stirling W7630 on a mission to drop flares on military targets in Dusseldorf. The flares would light the targets for the bombers following behind.
But they were forced to retreat and fly low due to anti-aircraft fire from the Germans. They were hunted down by a Messerschmitt fighter plane and shot down.
Four of the crew members bailed out, three didn't make it. The fourth died in battle six months later.
Over time the wreckage of the Stirling bomber sank into the bog. It was covered up and the land was worked as if nothing of interest had ever happened there. There was nothing to mark the resting place of four British airmen who sacrificed their lives to defeat the Nazis.
For 77 years, Sgt. Pepper's family had no idea what had become of him. What they didn't know is that one Dutchman never forgot about those deceased men on that plane.
Joep Jennissen was working as a farmhand when the crash occurred. He worked to clear the field of the wreckage after the wreck. It bothered him that the airmen were lying under the ground that was being worked without any respect given to the dead.
Four remaining men, including Sgt. Pepper, were listed as missing in action. Their remains stayed in the plane which had crashed into a bog in the Netherlands.
In 1999, Jennissen began lobbying the Dutch government to exhume the bodies. He died in 2003 without having succeeded but his daughter, Marleen, took over for him.
Initially, the regional administration and the Catholic abbot who owned the land refused to exhume the bodies. They were concerned about the cost of the operation and the disruption it would cause in the neighborhood.
Meanwhile, Marleen began a campaign to find the relatives of the men who went down with their plane.
After several years, she found Becky Dutton, the niece of Sgt. Pepper. In January 2015, the Short Stirling Society called her and explained that they were trying to find any relatives of Maurice Pepper. They then put Ms. Dutton in touch with Marleen.
Marleen had the idea that the only way to get the government to exhume the bodies would be to have them hear from the living relatives of the deceased. Ms. Dutton readily agreed to get involved in the letter-writing campaign.
Initially, the Dutch government agreed to pay 70% of the costs of exhuming the bodies but the local government would not chip in the remaining 30%. The abbot also raised concerns about disturbing the graves of the airmen.
Things remained at a stalemate until a documentary about the situation was made. At about the same time, there was a shake-up at the local government level. The new leadership convinced the Dutch government to finance 100% of the operation.
The Dutch government informed Ms. Dutton that they would now be 100% financing the recovery of 30-50 planes around the country. Sgt. Pepper's Stirling is among those to be exhumed.
Recently, the abbot gave his permission allowing the work to start on his property. The work is scheduled to begin on September 16 and cost £207,000.
It has not yet been decided whether to return the airmen's remains to Britain or provide them with graves in the Netherlands. Ms. Dutton prefers for them to stay in the Netherlands.
April 5, 1968, was a day like any other for commuters in Central London; the sky was clear for a change, and spring was in full swing.
A red double-decker bus was crossing Tower Bridge, as were a few other vehicles and a man on a bicycle. The man on the bike felt a sudden tingling as if lightning were about to strike from out of the blue - then, it almost did.
With a thunderous roar, a silver fighter jet appeared out of nowhere and tore through the gap between the bridge and its upper walkways at over 400 mph. The cyclist got such a shock that he fell off his bike. Anyone else who saw it thought they had been dreaming.
It was no dream, though, and the man who had just piloted the fighter jet through the 200 by 110-foot gap was RAF Flight, Lieutenant Alan Pollock.
Pollock's extraordinary act that day was not sanctioned by the Royal Air Force, and, needless to say, when he finally touched down and exited his Hawker Hunter FGA.9 jet, he was promptly arrested.
However, he was not court-martialed. In fact, he received tremendous support from the British public and RAF airmen, both those retired and those still in the service. He was instead discharged from the RAF on medical grounds.
What was it, though, that prompted Pollock to perform such an outrageous (if impressive) stunt on that warm spring day in 1968?
Well, for starters, 1968 was the 50th anniversary of the founding of the RAF, which made '68 a momentous year for British aviation. While a ground parade had been organized, no fly past had been planned. This, coupled with budget cuts, made Pollock - and many other RAF airmen - upset.
Pollock, who had joined the RAF in 1953, had risen through the ranks and kept a clean, well-respected track record. By 1968, he had attained the rank of Flight Lieutenant. He had cut his flying teeth in jet fighters like the de Havilland Vampire and had served in Germany and the Middle East, where he had acted as aide-de-camp to NATO Air Marshal Sir Humphrey Edwardes-Jones.
He wasn't the type of man that anyone would expect to undertake such a maverick act, but when it seemed as if the RAF wasn't being given the respect it deserved by Britain's government at the time, Pollock decided a strong point needed to be made.
His initial plan of protest, however, had not included flying through Tower Bridge - one of the most famous bridges in the world. The plan had been a little more simple than that. All he had wanted to do, he said later, was to "fly over the Houses of Parliament, make some noise, get court-martialed and then just express what was not right."
On the day of his planned one-man-fly past, he snuck an AA street map of London into his flight suit before getting strapped into his Hawker Hunter and then took off with three other pilots of his squadron, who were heading back to their base at West Raynham.
But Pollock had a special detour planned. He tapped out a message to the other three pilots via his transmitter, stating that he had lost them but would find his way back. Then he veered off toward central London.
Pollock had to keep his Hunter low to avoid commercial air traffic. Scrambling to plan out a route and calculate speeds and distances on the AA map he had smuggled inside his flight suit, he had dropped to around 150 feet in altitude when he got to the Thames.
This was how his one-man-fly past began, but neither he nor anyone else had any idea at this point that it would go down in history. After zipping over a few of the bridges over the Thames, Pollock decided to begin act two of his London fly past.
He headed over to Westminster and the Houses of Parliament to make his protest about the attitude toward the RAF known to the government.
People in the Ministry of Defence building were shocked to hear the thunderous roar of a fighter jet passing by their building. When many rushed to the windows, those on the sixth floor were shocked to realize that they needed to look down, not up, to see the aircraft.
Pollock then passed the RAF memorial near Whitehall and gave his wings a waggle as a salute.
After this, Pollock flew around the Houses of Parliament three times, opening up the jet engine of the Hunter on the third pass to really give them a taste of noise.
After this, he headed back to the Thames, where he saw the iconic sight of London's Tower bridge rapidly filling up his field of vision.
He had a few seconds to make the decision as he saw the 200-foot by 110-foot gap between the bridge and the upper walkway approaching, and then he made his choice. This wasn't going to be another bridge that he flew over - this was going to be one that he flew through.
Traveling at over 400 mph, he ripped through the gap, almost crashing through with his tail fin missing the upper walkway by mere feet. Everyone on the bridge got the fright of their lives, but the jet fighter tore through the gap with such speed that most only registered what had happened long after Pollock had successfully made the gap.
When he arrived back at West Raynham, he was promptly arrested, as he had expected to be. He was scheduled to be court-martialed a few days after his arrest, but then something unexpected happened: there was an outpouring of support for what he had done, both from other members of the RAF and many members of the public.
The court-martial was called off, but that didn't mean Pollock could keep his job. Seeing as a bad cold he'd been suffering from had now turned into pneumonia, he was discharged from the RAF on medical grounds, thus saving face for everyone in a sense.
After this, he went on to enjoy a successful career in business. In 1982, the government officially exonerated him fully from any wrongdoing.
Alan Pollock remains the only person who has ever flown a jet fighter through London's Tower Bridge, and it is likely that this will be a feat that is never repeated.
During the Vietnam War, the United States military sprayed over twenty million gallons of herbicide Agent Orange on the trees and vegetation in Vietnam. The idea was to remove the forest cover that the enemy combatants were hiding behind and to destroy their crops, which would make it more difficult for them to feed themselves.
The primary herbicide used at the time was known as Agent Orange due to the colored band around its barrels. It was spread over Vietnam, the Korean Demilitarized Zone, and Thai Air Force bases.
It was later determined that the chemicals contained in the herbicide caused many serious health issues, including cancer, birth defects, rashes, psychological problems, and neurological issues. These medical issues have been found both in Vietnamese citizens and returning US military members.
In 1979, a class-action suit was filed on behalf of 2.4 million veterans who had been exposed to Agent Orange while serving in Vietnam.
Five years later, seven chemical companies that produced the herbicide agreed to a settlement that paid $180 million to the veterans or their next of kin. By the time the various legal challenges were resolved, the settlement had risen to approximately $240 million, including interest.
In 1991, President George H.W. Bush signed a law that required certain diseases associated with Agent Orange by treated as a result of service during war time. This cleared the way for veterans to be treated for these diseases by the US Department of Veterans Affairs.
Two years ago, David Shulkin was the Veteran Affairs Secretary. He tried to include three more health conditions - bladder cancer, Parkinson’s-like symptoms, and hypothyroidism - as eligible diseases for Agent Orange benefits. This would have allowed veterans quicker access to compensation for disability compensation and medical benefits.
Recently released emails show that the Office of Management and Budget (OMB), along with other White House officials, objected to the proposed changes.
The specifics of the OMB’s challenges are redacted. The visible sections of the documentation indicate that the office had concerns with how the expanded benefits would impact the budget and whether there would be any adverse effect on the existing disability program.
The documents state that there are around 83,000 veterans who are affected by one of the three conditions that Shulkin proposed adding. The cost of providing benefits to these veterans was included in the documents but was redacted.
In 2016, scientists at the Institute of Medicine, which is now known as the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, determined that there was limited evidence that the three medical conditions were linked to Agent Orange.
There was some debate at the time as to whether Shulkin had the authority to decide to add the conditions. The Agent Orange Act of 1991 had expired before his decision. Shulkin pointed to similar decisions by previous secretaries of the VA, such as approving ALS and osteoporosis benefits for former prisoners of war.
In 2018, President Donald Trump fired Shulkin after it was reported that Shulkin had accepted tickets to Wimbledon during an official trip to England.
Since then, there seems to have been no forward motion on adding these conditions to the medical benefits of veterans. This leaves hundreds of thousands of US veterans waiting in limbo to find out if they will be able to afford treatment for their medical conditions.
Shulkin recently gave an interview in which he stated that the current process is backward. He believes that the country should do all they can to support the veterans and if new discoveries are made, then policy should be changed. As it is, veterans are forced to wait until policymakers are convinced the evidence is irrefutable.
In chronicling the adventurous life of legendary CIA operative Edward Lansdale, The Road Not Taken definitively reframes our understanding of the Vietnam War.
In this epic biography of Edward Lansdale (1908 - 1987), the man said to be the fictional model for Graham Greene's The Quiet American, best-selling historian Max Boot demonstrates how Lansdale pioneered a "hearts and mind" diplomacy, first in the Philippines, then in Vietnam. It was a visionary policy that, as Boot reveals, was ultimately crushed by 
America's giant military bureaucracy, steered by elitist generals and blueblood diplomats who favored troop build-ups and napalm bombs over winning the trust of the people. Through dozens of interviews and access to never-before-seen documents-including long-hidden love letters-Boot recasts this cautionary American story, tracing the bold rise and the crashing fall of the roguish "T. E. Lawrence of Asia" from the battle of Dien Bien Phu to the humiliating American evacuation in 1975. Bringing a tragic complexity to this so-called "ugly American," this "engrossing biography" (Karl Marlantes) rescues Lansdale from historical ignominy and suggests that Vietnam could have been different had we only listened. With reverberations that continue to play out in Iraq and Afghanistan, The Road Not Taken is a biography of profound historical consequence. 54 photographs; 3 maps
Readers Reviews
I was eager to read this book for what I'd hoped would be an in-depth examination of Ed Lansdale, the primary subject-a fascinating figure by any measure. And I got that, thanks to Max Boot's deep research into Lansdale's letters, wide-ranging interviews, and other sources. Lansdale has never come across more intriguing than in the rich detail Boot presents here.
But I also learned more from Boot quickly about the Philippines and Vietnam-as well as about the stultifying bureaucracy-over-insight culture that Lansdale faced-than I have in a dozen other books. I found it hard not to keep turning the next page. His writing draws you in, holds you, and stays with you long after putting the book down.
This is a must-read for anyone interested in national security-especially current, and aspiring leaders in government agencies and departments to learn the lessons that many in Lansdale's generation failed to heed.
~David Priess
Well written, mixing up personal facts with the larger geo-political picture of the moment, it paints a picture of the man and his ideas as they were and as they are still relevant today. Should be required reading for senior military and diplomatic personnel.
Right there with T.E. Lawrence and Amedeo Guillet, Edward Lansdale's Memory deserved to be reported in a book as good as this.
~Raimondo S
Well written book. Edward Lansdale was a visionary beyond his times; had the US Government even listened to half of what he had to day about a counter-insurgency, Viet Nam would have turned far differently. For anyone interested in COIN, this is a must-read.
~Russ Dueck
The Road Not Taken is a big book about the life and times of the notorious Ed Lansdale that no serious addict of the Philippine experience or Vietnam War can afford to overlook.
The first part of the 600-page book is about Lansdale's success in the Philippine insurrection and how he influenced the favorable outcome via close friendships with Ramon Magsaysay and Carlos Romulo. Although my focus is primarily on the Vietnam episodes, I have family members who lived in Manila from the early moments of US occupation in 1911 through the Japanese occupation. One is buried at the US cemetery at Fort Bonifacio.
Based on his successful record of success in the Philippines, Lansdale was invited to practice his magic in Vietnam during the period preceding French withdrawal. This experience was captured in the Michael Caine's film version of Graham Greene's 1952 novel The Quiet American, as updated in the 2002 film version. According to Boot, Lansdale was an uncredited consultant to the movie, providing an opportunity for him to explain how Vietnam went off-track and why. Lansdale's service with the Central Intelligence Agency may explain why he preferred the indirect approach to warfare, whenever possible. As we know now, the Regular Warfare establishment overwhelmed those in favor of a lower profile.
~Charles A. Krohn
About the Author
Max Boot is a bestselling author, historian, and policy analyst who has been called one of the "world's leading authorities on armed conflict" by the International Institute for Strategic Studies.
He is a columnist for the Washington Post, a global affairs analyst for CNN, and the Jeane J. Kirkpatrick senior fellow in national security studies at the Council on Foreign Relations. He is the author of the New York Times bestsellers "The Road Not Taken: Edward Lansdale and the American Tragedy in Vietnam" and "Invisible Armies: An Epic History of Guerrilla Warfare from Ancient Times to the Present."
His other books include the widely acclaimed: "The Savage Wars of Peace: Small Wars and the Rise of American Power" and "War Made New: Technology, Warfare, and the Course of History, 1500 to Today." He has been called "a master historian" by the New York Times and "a penetrating writer and thinker" by The Wall Street Journal. For more information, see www.maxboot.net.
Born on July 2, 1937, in Honolulu, Hawaii, Versace was the eldest of five children. Versace's father was Colonel Humbert Joseph Versace (1911–1972), and his mother was Marie Teresa Ríos (1917–1999) who authored three books, which includes the popular work 'Fifteenth Pelican,' on which the 1960s starred Sally Field as 'The Flying Nun' was based. Having grown up in Alexandria, Virginia, Versace attended Gonzaga College High School in Washington, D.C. during his freshman and sophomore years, Frankfurt American High School in his junior year, and after graduating from Norfolk Catholic High School in his senior year, enrolled in the Armed Forces from Norfolk in Virginia.
Versace started his first tour of duty in war-torn Vietnam in the capacity of an intelligence advisor starting May 12, 1962. Just a year later, in May 1963, Versace put in a request for an extension of his tour by six months.
Once Versace's parents gained knowledge of the fate of their son, Marie and her husband, Colonel Versace, decided to find out everything they could the circumstances in which the tragedy had happened.
As the battle raged, Captain Versace fought valiantly and encouraged his CIDG patrol to return fire against overwhelming enemy forces. He provided covering fire from an exposed position to enable friendly forces to withdraw from the killing zone when it was apparent that their position would be overrun and was severely wounded in the knee and back from automatic weapons fire and shrapnel. He stubbornly resisted capture with the last full measure of his strength and ammunition.
In the summer of 1863, Maj. Gen. William Rosecrans led his Union Army of the Cumberland from Murfreesboro, Tennessee, towards Chattanooga, 140 miles to the south. Chattanooga was an important rail junction for the South. The goal was to use the Federal army of about 60,000 to surround the city and cut off escape for Gen. Braxton Bragg and his Army of the Tennessee numbering about 40,000.
The battle raged throughout September 19th. Confederate forces pounded away at the Union line but were not able to break it, leaving both sides exhausted. As night fell, temperatures dropped, and soldiers endured a night of freezing temperatures. The dead and wounded littered the fields, including Merritt J. Simonds of the 42nd Illinois, Company K. He lay wounded on the battlefield for nearly a week before being attended to. On October 8th, he wrote his father a letter saying he had been severely wounded but was optimistic for recovery. He wrote a second letter on October 27th, saying, "My leg is now mortifying above the knee, and doctors say I cannot live more than two days at the longest. You must not take this to heart but look to a higher source for God's comfort, for it is God's will and I feel resigned to my fate, I would like to have my body taken home and buried beside my mother." Simonds died shortly after, and his remains lie in Chattanooga National Cemetery.
After graduating from high school at the top of his class, Moe went to Princeton, an unusual accomplishment for a poor Jewish boy in the 1920s. He became the star shortstop of the college baseball team, graduated magna cum laude and was offered a teaching post in Princeton's Department of Romance Languages. Wanting to study experimental phonetics at the Sorbonne but unable to afford graduate study overseas, Berg accepted a contract to play shortstop for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Moe's hitting was below par and he was sent to the minors after the 1924 season. It was Moe who inspired a professional scout to coin the immortal baseball phrase, "Good field, no hit." One teammate said, "Moe, I don't care how many of them college degrees you got, they ain't learned you to hit that curveball no better than the rest of us."
In 1934, Berg toured Japan with a group of major-league all-stars, including Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig. Still respected as a linguist, Moe was invited to lecture at Meiji University, where he delivered an eloquent speech in Japanese. Apparently, before the trip, the U.S. government had recruited Berg as a spy. While at a Tokyo hospital ostensibly visiting an American mother who had just given birth, he sneaked onto the roof and took photos of the city. Pilots reportedly later used the photos during bombing raids in World War II.
Incognito, Berg managed to lure the leading German atomic physicist, Werner Heisenberg, to Switzerland to give a lecture on quantum theory. At a dinner afterward, Berg heard Heisenberg imply that Germany was behind the U.S. in bomb development. President Roosevelt greeted Berg's report warmly. At great risk as a Jew, Berg spent parts of 1944 and 1945 in Germany, helping arrange for the capture of several prominent German atomic scientists by U.S. troops before the Russians got them. At war's end, Berg was offered the Medal of Merit, the highest award given to a civilian in the war effort, but he modestly declined it. Moe lived out a quiet life in Newark, where he died at age 70.
But they were forced to retreat and fly low due to anti-aircraft fire from the Germans. They were hunted down by a Messerschmitt fighter plane and shot down.
After several years, she found Becky Dutton, the niece of Sgt. Pepper. In January 2015, the Short Stirling Society called her and explained that they were trying to find any relatives of Maurice Pepper. They then put Ms. Dutton in touch with Marleen.
It was no dream, though, and the man who had just piloted the fighter jet through the 200 by 110-foot gap was RAF Flight, Lieutenant Alan Pollock.
Pollock, who had joined the RAF in 1953, had risen through the ranks and kept a clean, well-respected track record. By 1968, he had attained the rank of Flight Lieutenant. He had cut his flying teeth in jet fighters like the de Havilland Vampire and had served in Germany and the Middle East, where he had acted as aide-de-camp to NATO Air Marshal Sir Humphrey Edwardes-Jones.
Pollock had to keep his Hunter low to avoid commercial air traffic. Scrambling to plan out a route and calculate speeds and distances on the AA map he had smuggled inside his flight suit, he had dropped to around 150 feet in altitude when he got to the Thames.
After this, he headed back to the Thames, where he saw the iconic sight of London's Tower bridge rapidly filling up his field of vision.
It was later determined that the chemicals contained in the herbicide caused many serious health issues, including cancer, birth defects, rashes, psychological problems, and neurological issues. These medical issues have been found both in Vietnamese citizens and returning US military members.
The specifics of the OMB’s challenges are redacted. The visible sections of the documentation indicate that the office had concerns with how the expanded benefits would impact the budget and whether there would be any adverse effect on the existing disability program.
America's giant military bureaucracy, steered by elitist generals and blueblood diplomats who favored troop build-ups and napalm bombs over winning the trust of the people. Through dozens of interviews and access to never-before-seen documents-including long-hidden love letters-Boot recasts this cautionary American story, tracing the bold rise and the crashing fall of the roguish "T. E. Lawrence of Asia" from the battle of Dien Bien Phu to the humiliating American evacuation in 1975. Bringing a tragic complexity to this so-called "ugly American," this "engrossing biography" (Karl Marlantes) rescues Lansdale from historical ignominy and suggests that Vietnam could have been different had we only listened. With reverberations that continue to play out in Iraq and Afghanistan, The Road Not Taken is a biography of profound historical consequence. 54 photographs; 3 maps
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