This is the extraordinary story of Vasily B. Emelianenko, the veteran pilot of one of the Soviet Unions most contradictory planes of WWII the I1-2. This heavily armoured aircraft was practically unrivalled in terms of fire power, but it was slow to manoeuvre and an easy target for fighters. I12 had to attack enemy flak columns at extremely low altitudes, which led to enormous tolls both in equipment and personnel.
This is the extraordinary story of Vasily B. Emelianenko, the veteran pilot of one of the Soviet Union’s most contradictory planes of WWII – the I1-2. This heavily armoured aircraft was practically unrivalled in terms of fire power, but it was slow to manoeuvre and an easy target for fighters. I1–2 had to attack enemy flak columns at extremely low altitudes, which led to enormous tolls both in equipment and personnel.
A deft, lively, and highly readable history of the demise of the German way of war. As the allies found an antidote to the "shock and awe" approach of the Wehrmacht, the once mighty German army underwent an epic fall from remarkable operational victories to crushing operational defeats, forced to take on a defensive stance in a war it could never win.
Ch. 6 (pp. 163-225), "Concentration Camps", contains a short history of the most notorious Nazi concentration and extermination camps (e.g. Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen, Buchenwald, and Ravensbrück) and describes the murder process in them. Ch. 7 (pp. 226-250), "The 'Final Solution' of the Jewish Question", focuses on Nazi anti-Jewish propaganda and on the persecution and killing of Jews in German-occupied areas (Poland, the USSR, France, the Netherlands, Hungary, etc.).
While Adolf Hitler’s National Socialist government was persecuting Jews and Jehovah’s Witnesses and driving forty-two small German religious sects underground, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints continued to practice unhindered. How some fourteen thousand Mormons not only survived but thrived in Nazi Germany is a story little known, rarely told, and occasionally rewritten within the confines of the Church’s history—for good reason, as we see in David Conley Nelson’s Moroni and the Swastika. A page-turning historical narrative, this book is the first full account of how Mormons avoided Nazi persecution through skilled collaboration with Hitler’s regime, and then eschewed postwar shame by constructing an alternative history of wartime suffering and resistance. The Twelfth Article of Faith and parts of the 134th Section of the Doctrine and Covenants function as Mormonism’s equivalent of the biblical admonition to “render unto Caesar,” a charge to cooperate with civil government, no matter how onerous doing so may be. Resurrecting this often-violated doctrinal edict, ecclesiastical leaders at the time developed a strategy that protected Mormons within Nazi Germany. Furthermore, as Nelson shows, many Mormon officials strove to fit into the Third Reich by exploiting commonalities with the Nazi state. German Mormons emphasized a mutual interest in genealogy and a passion for sports. They sent husbands into the Wehrmacht and sons into the Hitler Youth, and they prayed for a German victory when the war began. They also purged Jewish references from hymnals, lesson plans, and liturgical practices. One American mission president even wrote an article for the official Nazi Party newspaper, extolling parallels between Utah Mormon and German Nazi society. Nelson documents this collaboration, as well as subsequent efforts to suppress it by fashioning a new collective memory of ordinary German Mormons’ courage and travails during the war. Recovering this inconvenient past, Moroni and the Swastika restores a complex and difficult chapter to the history of Nazi Germany and the Mormon Church in the twentieth century—and offers new insight into the construction of historical truth.
Günter Koschorrek wrote his illicit diary on any scraps of paper he could lay his hands on, storing them with his mother on infrequent trips home on leave. The diary went missing, and it was not until he was reunited with his daughter in America some forty years later that it came to light and became Blood Red Snow. The authors excitement at the first encounter with the enemy in the Russian Steppe is obvious. Later, the horror and confusion of fighting in the streets of Stalingrad are brought to life by his descriptions of the others in his unit their differing manners and techniques for dealing with the squalor and death. He is also posted to Romania and Italy, assignments he remembers fondly compared to his time on the Eastern Front. This book stands as a memorial to the huge numbers on both sides who did not survive and is, some six decades later, the fulfilment of a responsibility the author feels to honour the memory of those who perished.
