Review Written By Bernie Weisz, Historian, Vietnam War, Pembroke Pines, Florida U.S.A. November 10, 2011 Contact: BernWei1@aol.com Title of Review: "The Sounds of Vietnam: Explosions, Cries of Pain, Bursts of Rapid Fire & the Sharp Cracking of Lead Flying All Over The Place!" The sounds of war did not bring forth in Richard Vnuk's mind songs like Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyres", Creedence Clearwater's "Suzie Q" or even the Rolling Stones' "Jumpin" Jack Flash." On the contrary, the reverberations of war made him nauseated, downright sick to his stomach, exhausting his mental faculties to its breaking point. It is as if it was just yesterday that the author heard these sounds, despite a span of forty three years elapsing since he last listened to them. Indelible impressions were being made on those American youths that answered the summons of President Johnson's war trumpet, and sadly for some these would be the last they would ever see or hear. America's involvement in the Vietnam War in the mid 1960's was running at full speed and it was an aberration of the harshest kind for a young man fresh out of high school to wonder if by this time tomorrow he would be zipped into a body bag. Vietnam proved to be a cruel assault on Vnuk's senses, as shortly after his high school graduation he would be drafted and zipped across the Pacific on a silver wing tipped, flying chariot. Instead of working on calculus, trigonometry, zoology, Mark Twain and Ernest Hemingway, Vnuk would watch B-52 strikes, observe enemy artillery hurling hunks of metal over his head at supersonic speeds, and witness in horror the "death mask look" on the corpses of his fellow soldiers, whom just hours before were men he had thought of as his friends, sharing his hopes, dreams and aspirations with. Pessimistic to the utmost, Vnuk reminds the reader that throughout his one year tour he expressed thoughts like; "I thought for sure I was a dead man," as well as "I'm going to be in a body bag for sure." After watching American soldiers laying dead all around him, he incredulously mused; "I felt as if I should have died over and over, but I was alive." When Richard Vunk reached an emotional standoff where he admits he was overwhelmed with survivor guilt, extreme fatigue and drained numb of emotion, he concedes that death was an attractive alternative to the torture of war he was involuntarily a part of. While this might sound absurd, after reading "Tested in the Fire of Hell" the reader will commiserate and identify with Richard Vunk as to why he would make such a statement. You will also understand why the author described himself at an impasse; which was to either go insane and lose touch with reality or spend all his time and energy on trying to survive this war physically and pray to his higher power to empower himself to control his emotions and maintain his sanity. He chose the latter and as a consequence is here today to embody the sagacity of that choice. There is much to be said to the cover of this book. You can see Richard Vnuk with three other soldiers, all dying in the presence of the author. "Doc Peterson" was Vunk's medic, and although Vunk tried to prevent this tragedy, on October 26, 1967 Doc died trying to save another soldier on the cover, Rocky. Just moments before this, they all walked into the killing zone of an NVA ambush, with Rocky and Vnuk side by side. Even today, the author writes of Rocky during that ambush with the following wonderment; "He was killed and I was not touched and I always wonder why I was destined to survive. The last member of the ill fated quartet was Glen Williams, who died on November 4th, 1967 right after Vnuk left the foxhole they had shared together to pick up their lifeline, i.e. supplies such as food, water and ammunition. As the author went to pick up supplies, Williams tried to bury their garbage. This was necessary because the North Vietnamese were capable of turning even the most innocuous leftover refuge into a lethal weapon of war. Williams shovel struck an NVA landmine, instantly killing him. If you stare at Vunk's book cover, you realize his face is blank and expressionless, almost impossible to gauge. One simply has to find a pictorial history book of the First World War to find the identical gazes of lost souls of that war. As an example, if you look at a photo album of British soldiers that had spent time on the front lines after experiencing "trench warfare" combat, you can see almost the same countenance as the author. The conflagration of 1914 to 1918 was known by the misnomer as the "War to End All Wars." It was the last war to be fought with ground troops of each side using deep trenches embedded in the groundwork opposing each other. A similar system of warfare occurred during the U.S. Civil War, as evidenced at the Battle of Gettysburg in 1863. On a prearranged signal such as an officer's trumpet or a commanding officer's whistle, entire divisions would simultaneously climb out of their trenches and make a mad, lethal dash towards the opposing enemy line of trenches. The goal was to numerically overwhelm the opposing force despite being exposed to a murderous fusillade of gunfire, cannon balls and eventually poison gas. Ground troops were nothing more than human bullets and targets. In W.W. I, British casualties were so high that their doctors were deluged with soldiers claiming to suffer from mental breakdowns. Rich Vunk unintentionally described symptoms in this memoir that would identically coincide with what official British literature would deem as "shell shock." These included extreme fatigue, irritability, giddiness, lack of concentration and headaches. Vnuk claimed he was at one point so close to a mental breakdown that his only choice was prayer and to remind himself that the only way he would see his parents again was to get his act together. Many men in both W.W. I and Vietnam would not be able to collect themselves and in fact did suffer mental breakdowns. It is interesting to note that prior to Vnuk's resolve to prevail in spite of his circumstances, his description of wanting to die and his fear of insanity, correlated perfectly with the British literature of W.W. I deemed as "shell shock." However, that was where the similarities between 1918 and 1967 ended. During W.W. I, despite physicians concurring that the only cure for shell-shock was a complete rest away from the fighting, these were different times with different rules. Only British officers were given the privilege of rest and stand down. Regular conscripts suffering from shell shock thereby rendered unable to perform as an effective infantryman were castigated as cowardly malingerers. Any soldier claiming this would be sent right back to the front lines, often to the scenes of the heaviest fighting. Faced with the possibility of being killed or permanently disabled, soldiers would shoot themselves in an attempt to end their misery on the frontline. In comparison, all American soldiers in Vietnam were given at least one rest and recuperation period during their tour, where they would be taken out of the fighting completely to rest and recharge themselves. In W.W. I, a self-inflicted wound was a British capital offense if discovered by the British Army, and a man found guilty of either this or desertion faced execution by a firing-squad at the most, or prison at the least. A common British punishment for disobeying orders or self inflicted wounds was the infamous "British Field Punishment #1." This involved the offender being tied to a pole or fixed object for up to two hours a day and for a period up to three months. These men were often put in a known area of heavy enemy bombardment. In his book "A Kind of Survivor," British soldier Guy Chapman wrote about the options available to an infantryman during W.W. I besides desertion or combat refusal; "A bullet fired deliberately at the foot was the only way out. Others killed themselves rather than carry on in the trenches. The usual method of suicide was to place the muzzle of their Lee-Enfield rifle against their head and press the trigger with their bare big toe. In some cases, when men could endure no more, they stood up on the fire-step and allowed themselves to be shot by an enemy sniper." Did things like this occur in Vietnam, where it was sometimes called a "million dollar wound?" James Ebert, in his book "A Life in a Year" wrote that: "Very few men chose the extreme of desertion, but there were those who were prone to hide during combat and not take part in it. A few others chose to wound themselves so they would be evacuated safely out of the field. In one instance a man had his buddy shoot him in the calf. The other guy started jabbing himself with a punji stick. He defecated and urinated in a little thing and stirred the stick in there so it would get him infected enough to get out." No one reported the other soldier, according to Ebert, regarding it as none of their business. With no front lines and all men heavily armed, fraggings and friendly fire was a serious fear. Ebert interviewed one soldier who had witnessed another soldier shoot himself in the foot to get out of going on a combat assault. Why didn't the soldier that saw this snitch on the offender? Ebert recorded the witnesses thoughts as follows: "I was afraid the shooter would nail me one night in the near future back at the company area. Everybody's got enemies at least once in a while, and you just didn't know if he was nuts." However, Vietnam was very different war and in many ways could test the mettle of even the most hardened. Among Richard Vnuk's greatest concerns was losing his sanity and surely all of the aforementioned thoughts and options would run through his mind on the tragic days of October 26th and November 4th, 1967. In summing up the whole situation of impending combat and the possibility of violent death at any time, Vnuk commented: "Nothing could explain the density, weight, volume, or the depth of the pain and suffering that was taking place." You might be wondering why everything described in this memoir concerning his combat experiences are negative and denigrating. The author will not leave you hanging on that angle. In fact, aside from his heartwarming rendition of how in 2007 he returned to Vietnam as a volunteer teacher and atoned to the Vietnamese people and one female student in particular at the end of this memoir, Vnuk lets it be known that he felt unequivocally used, abused, and manipulated by the politicians in Washington, who in turn were completely indifferent to his survival. Ethically, morally and spiritually against his will, he was forced to kill and in turn he was almost killed by reluctantly participating in an unrighteous, unprovoked war with questionable motives. The powers in control of America manipulated Richard Vnuk by intelligently applying psychology. Compliance was assured by appealing to his moral structure, his patriotism and his love of God. There are several reasons why a Vietnam Veteran would write a memoir in 2011. Among those are to leave a legacy to one's family, to express through the written word the horrors one experienced and is unable to communicate orally, or to contribute to American history. Some think that their experiences were so unique and extraordinary that they envision their names on movie theatre marquees and newspaper periodicals. None of the aforementioned has anything even remotely similar to Richard Vnuk's designs. Vnuk gives clues to his rationale behind penning this memoir by his descriptive verbiage. He calls the masses of youth considering the righteous of America's cause in S.E. Asia as a "crisis of conscience." Vnuk juxtaposes the righteousness of taking up arms with the possibility of dying to prevent communist expansion in a foreign country that neither posed a threat nor had anything to do with American security as "facing a terrible dilemma." Serving one's country honorably, embodying patriotism and becoming effective soldiers by learning sound combat techniques to fight in Vietnam is translated by Vnuk as being "immersed in the chaos and inhumanity of preparation for the incalculable consequences of war." The conflict in Southeast Asia that America participated in amounted to: "Exposure to the inescapable evil on a mass scale." All of the aforementioned sentiments Vnuk expressed about the war as a consequence of his experiences. The author challenges readers right in the introduction of this memoir. Thinking that because he was an infantryman, readers will incorrectly assume that Vnuk is incapable of teaching anyone anything important about the war he immediately refutes. His method of doing this is nothing less than ingenious. Vnuk teaches in an abstract fashion by showing all with a touch of indignation what he was not taught. What he was not warned about, he is now doing the warning, with this book serving as his initial volley of education. Vnuk asks; who was there to warn him when he received his draft notice and when he reported for induction that this was a war not worth dying for? Who was there to tell him that this was a conflict that America would ultimately send to South Viet Nam 2,594,000 troops between January of 1965 to March of 1973 with 58, 212 to lose their lives in a war there was no "end game" strategy for? And what about the horrors of war most of these patriotic teenagers were about to be jolted by? Was it a correct policy of the Johnson administration as a result of an ambiguous naval confrontation to send American teenagers to a strange and foreign land with a hostile, unforgiving climate, fraught with booby traps, anti-personnel landmines and punji stakes? Did our leaders care that the troops they were sending would face off against hard core Communist troops who would use tunnel and guerrilla warfare to kill unprepared young Americans? We are talking about the best jungle fighters on the face of the earth whom considered warfare a way of life, traveled swiftly and light, and were unafraid to die. These hit and run soldiers were confronted by nineteen year old Americans who were not used to the terrain or climate, wore 60 lb. packs and carried insufficient water and food. Surely they were taught how to shoot a rifle, and were supplied with bullets and grenades. But in a deadly game of survival and senseless loss of life, who would teach the boy-warrior who only months before was playing sandlot softball or going to a picnic at the park to deal with impending death and destruction? Who will step forward and warn America's youth that if our nation ever again becomes involved in a senseless war that is led by generals that receive their orders from tactically inept, militarily inexperienced politicians that dictate senseless rules that this is a war not dying for? Read Richard Vnuk's book carefully , and you'll find these questions posed by just a mere foot soldier! Mr. Vnuk announces; "It is easy for those who were not personally involved in the war to forget about it." Is it a coincidence then that the 1950 to 1953 Korean War was dubbed "The Forgotten War?" Have you ever heard the cliche "the truth is sometimes stranger than fiction?" It is hard to believe that when L.B.J. asked for and was granted by Congress war powers as part of the "Tonkin Gulf Resolution," the aftermath of the Korean War was all but forgotten. As evidenced by the current standoff at the Korean 38th Parallel, the casualties of that conflagration were indeed a waste of precious human life. The sufferings of the 36,516 American, 137,899 South Korean and 215,000 North Korean soldiers who died in that war were all but forgotten in 1964 as America embarked in a conflict that would last until 1973. It is highly unlikely that this memoir would ever have been written if the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 did not occur. However, with no definitive end in sight and U.S. Forces still battling both the Insurgents and Al-Qaeda after a decade despite 4,414 U.S. troops killed in Iraq and 1,140 in Afghanistan, Richard Vnuk felt it was his time to assert himself. Since he did not know what to expect when the bullets started firing, thus leaving him and many others as well completely unprepared, it was important for the author to inform young readers that being in combat is nothing like what the movies show their audiences. This memoir is based on events Richard Vunk was a part of from 1966 to 1968 as an infantryman with Company A, First Battalion of the Seventh Cavalry. For forty three years the author, a school teacher, maintained a self imposed silence about his experiences. By writing this book, it is Richard Vnuk's way of exposing to all what war is really about, as there are no military parades, shiny swords and spit polished boots on battlefields. No amount of training can ready even the most resolute warrior to face hostile fire, violence, death and killing. Richard Vnuk reports that his life was permanently changed on November 16, 1966, the day he received his draft notice. He insists he was not prepared nor was he desirous of war, in any way, shape or form. Claiming he is nonviolent and against war per se as a means of settling a dispute, his language is strong in describing what he witnessed and participated in. Vnuk departed for the killing fields of South Viet Nam on April 28, 1967. Two days before he left, his girlfriend gave him a memento to remember her by, a diary. This memoir is a product of that diary, of which he regularly made entries during his entire tour. Four decades later, Vnuk diligently pointed out all the irregularities and aberrations in the war, the conflicts in himself, and the very essence of why Viet Nam became such a painful hurt from within. It must be noted that in writing this book, Vnuk wanted it read by the youth of America, the people who suffer the most from the effects of war. Despite foul language being endemic as well as macho to the warrior on the battlefield, his memoir is entirely devoid of profanity. There is an ulterior, deeper rationale of Vunk's, one that gives clues as to the inferno he was about to enter; "For me the profanity and the use of God's name by young people in the face of imminent death echoed in my head along with all the other sounds of war." He goes to great lengths explaining what the issues were that were so difficult to both confront and resolve, and each one presented to him a personal quandary. Although a pacifist, Vnuk was of a generation that believed that America had a divinely righteous moral obligation. Safeguarding South Vietnam's freedom from northern encroachment was a worthy American cause, and although unrealistic, he felt was a noble gesture as long as it didn't involve violence. He was also from a deeply religious Christian family, and Vunk took the fifth commandment of "Thy Shall Not Kill" seriously. However, how was America to intervene in Vietnam's civil war without violence, considering the level of fanaticism Ho Chi Minh and his henchmen possessed to see communism prevail? Another lesson he inculcates within this memoir is that is a soldier's responsibility to always learn the history of where he is being sent to do battle. How did the current status quo come about? Bud Willis, a Huey helicopter pilot, kept a diary just like Rich Vunk. A Marine, Willis flew out of Danang in 1966, considered the "build up" period of the war. Arriving in Viet Nam the last few days of February, it took him just one week to realize the course this war would take and the character of the enemy he was protecting the South Vietnamese from. In his book "Marble Mountain," Willis wrote of forcing the North Vietnamese out of mountainous areas by heliborne combat assaults. To his disgust, hard fought for areas were shortly afterwards relinquished back to the enemy despite the loss of American lives. This would later prove true in the U.S. abandonment of Khe Sanh, Hill 937 (Hamburger Hill) and Fire Support Base Ripcord. All three of the aforementioned support bases were abandoned by the U.S. after substantial casualties were suffered staving off the NVA. However, just like Vunk, Bud Willis learned the tenacity of who he was fighting when it was too late. This was an overzealous opponent that he would repetitively find tattooed slogans on their corpses asserting: "Born in the North to die in the South." However, most telling was Willis's following entry: "A couple of days later, I saw the nature of the enemy first hand. We went back to the sight after the Marines had secured the captured area and landed for a look around. A gunnery sergeant showed us a large cave entrance. There was a heavy caliber automatic weapon unlike any I've ever seen. It was mounted on wheels that had wooden spikes like something out of the Confederate War." Willis added; "This primitive apparatus had been rolled hundreds of miles to this spot. There were chains near the tree attached to the weapon. I was told that the gunners who were killed in the conflict were chained, so they couldn't run and had to stay and fight to the end. This was the type enemy I would be fighting and it made a tremendous impression on me." So the question is, if Vnuks religious beliefs were opposed to killing and he abhorred violence, why did he go, fight and kill? He explains why, in the following biblical manner: "Earthly powers have the authority to use force to bring about justice but not to exceed their authority. It is the responsibility of the authorities to use force to bring on justice, but those who do not come to the aid of the weak will have to answer to God." Going into this conflict, Vnuk truly accepted the Domino Theory and thought that protecting South Viet Nam was indeed noble. He added; "We were the forces of good battling the forces of evil and the showdown always comes down to violence. When the good guys kill large numbers of bad guys, it is a victory for justice and civilization." Although believing that "God was on our side because we lived in the light," he later conceded: "All of this was taught to me by my teachers, books, stories, magazines and movies." And this here is the crux of the book. "Tested in the Fire of Hell" is Vnuk's indignant assertion that he was drafted against his will to fight in an unpopular war that he would witness acts of violence and death for which he was entirely unprepared for. As you will read in this memoir, the repulsiveness of close combat as well as the horrific sight of friends and innocent civilians getting killed were to catch him entirely unprepared. However, it was the occurrences of extreme affronts to his conscience, morally, spiritually and ethically that did the most psychic damage, issues such as his utilitarian function in the war. Assigned as an infantryman, his military occupational specialty was strictly to kill as many enemy soldiers as possible. This was on a collision course with his prewar set of values, such as his beliefs in nonviolence, being a peacemaker and great respect for human life eliciting the greatest distress. Vnuk refused to claim "conscientious status" because he felt that was traitorous to America as well as highly disrespectful towards the troops. Religion, which ultimately would save him in his darkest hour of death all around him, initially confused him. He juxtaposed what he was taught in basic training, e.g. "What is the Spirit of the Bayonet? To Kill, Kill, Kill," vs Jesus's teachings of "Love Your Enemy." One of the most interesting parts of this book, which I'm afraid you are just going to have to buy to find out the details, is his agony as to whether reconciliation with God was possible in regard to breaking the Fifth Commandment prohibiting killing another. As previously mentioned, this author did not write this book for a movie deal, for attention or any acclaim. This is his personal attempt to explain to soldiers: "Do as I say, not as I did." A huge error on Vnuk's part was that he did not know his enemy. Upon arrival in Viet Nam, he confessed: "I did not know who my enemy was, why he was my enemy, and why we were going to fight to the death." Thinking he was there to protect the South Vietnamese, he was shocked to find the following: "It was very clear to me that when we came in contact with the locals out in the jungles, they didn't want us there!" After reading Patrick Hearden's "The Tragedy of Vietnam," Vunk began to reform his opinion. Learning that for centuries the Vietnamese had been fighting for independence from oppressive and exploitive Colonial yokes of the Chinese, Japanese, and French et. al. He now realized America did not understand its enemy and the complexity of what the Vietnamese were fighting for. Informed now about Ho Chi Minh's life as well as the atrocities visited upon the indigenous, Vnuk wrote: If I knew then what I know now, I would have been a conscientious objector for sure." Nevertheless, how did the author get to the point of traumatization he obviously was suffering from on the cover of the book? His countenance appears frozen, overwhelmed and stressed to the maximum. The answer you will find within the pages of this book, a fast, furious and fascinating read! A clue as to what contributed to Vnuk's state can be found by comparing it to the way Michael Orban described his journey in his book "Souled Out." Orban waited 37 years to explain his ordeal as a drafted 19 year old U.S. Army Infantryman in the Central Highlands of South Vietnam. As soon as he arrived "In Country," Orban's "friends" (the other men in his unit) tried to scare him by letting him know the life expectancy of a "FNG" new infantryman was one week. His description of the war remarkably parallel's Vnuk's; "I learned of the savagery, fear and panic that men created . I learned of the yells and screams of terror during combat. And I saw the tranquility of the jungle exploding in machine gun fire, hand grenades and helicopter gunships. I learned to be deeply grateful to the helicopter pilots and door gunners who heroically resupplied us as they were hovering over firefights at night, kicking out boxes of ammunition through the jungle tree tops, exposing themselves to a barrage of bullets. I witnessed the Cobra helicopter gunships and pilots courageously bringing their incredible machines, not only lifting our morale, but also giving us such great advantage to stay alive." It looked like Orban would breeze through his tour. One night at a Fire Support Base deep out in the jungle, Orban heard an explosion. Then he heard a helicopter coming in and screams. Thinking it was a VC sapper attack, he grabbed his M-16 and went to where the explosion was. Orban explained; "There was no attack! It was a fragging! I kept my position on my bunker and was sickened to my soul. The explosion was a claymore mine intentionally set off to kill the soldier in that bunker. There was nothing that could live or even be recognizable after that blast. Something had passed between the soldier and an officer; a threat, an insubordination, something serious or threatening. I lost much respect for the military that night, and the truth of war not written in history books became a heartbreaking lesson." Things became worse for Orban. A few months after the fragging, there was a firefight. The next morning, Orban describes the following: "My assignment was to go out with another soldier and count the dead bodies. We neared a corpse, face down, on the jungle floor and the soldier with me tried to turn the body over with his foot. But the body had been so badly shot up that the soldier's foot only sank into the chest as if it were mush. My heart felt sick of the sight of the dead and wounded. I knew it might be my body one day. I remember turning from that mutilated corpse and walking back to our position when a bizarre thing happened. Something left me, something that was structural. My arms and shoulders drooped, my head sank, and my spine curled forward. I would later realize that it was my soul, my spirituality that had shattered and left me." Orban watched his fellow soldiers cut ears, noses and teeth from dead enemy soldiers as war trophies after firefights, however after each incident, he lost more and more of his soul until his indignation came to a peak. Then the following incident happened: "I remember rolling up dead bodies on our rain ponchos. We tied them to long sticks and carried them out of the jungle as dead animals on safaris. I could not believe the nice guy I had been raised to be was carrying dead human beings tied to poles...human beings we had just killed." Then the insanity of it all hit Orban all at once; How could they let us go on killing and being killed while they argued over a useless war or the shape of a table at the Paris Peace Conference?" Orban questioned; "How could God allow this thing called war? If he was all powerful, why did He let these terrible things happen and why didn't he soothe my soul? Orban explained his look, that would later be photographed. His countenance was remarkably identical to Richard Vnuk's photo on "Tested in the fire of Hell." Orban wrote: "Was there really a God? It didn't feel like it. After all these experiences and various others, my soul felt totally exhausted, and the facade or mental barrier I had developed to developed to protect myself was just about all that was left to show the world. The icy, empty look, the "1000 yard stare" was all I held in my eyes. I cannot explain the disgust, hatred, and lack of trust I developed for the U.S. Government, the military, and human beings. We might have been as great as any generation of fighting soldiers, had we been given a legitimate reason to defend home and family." Michael Orban eventually completed his hitch, and upon settling back home, he pulled out photos of before he left for Viet Nam and as he was now, just returning. He noted that before his deployment to Viet Nam, the photo showed his eyes alive with expression, set in a tanned, healthy face, with a well fed body. The second photo was right before he left Viet Nam and came back to the U.S. Here is his description: "The second photo has little resemblance to the first. They are not of the same human being. War, its traumas, its minute to minute vigilance needed to stay alive, the stress to not be responsible for another American's death or dying, had reduced my physical state by over thirty pounds. My face was gray, with a vacant expression, my cheeks sunken in. But my eyes were so noticeably different. My eyes are green, but not in this photo. They are black and empty, sunken into the dark shadows that surround them; so empty one can see the void I call my soul. Finally, there is the subject of losing a buddy in war. Someone you talk to every day, tell jokes to, play pranks on. There is no training to prepare a soldier to deal with the death of another of his own. The photo on the cover of this book also represents Richard Vnuk's traumatization and tremendous despair over the death's of Doc Peterson, Glen Williams and Rocky. Perhaps Richie Watkins, author of "Vietnam No Regrets" puts this type of a loss in its proper prospective; "As my tour progressed I became a lot closer to a couple of the guys I was with. You really didn't want to get too close to each other. I really don't know why; I guess it was in case one of you got killed; the other guy wouldn't mourn as much. But that really wasn't it, because all of us were so close that we that we would've done anything for that to not happen. There's a saying that there is no bond greater than that forged by men who have faced death together in combat and I believe that is true. When a fellow soldier went down, it would hurt, and hurt a lot. It wouldn't be something you would never completely forget; just when you thought that memory was fading into the past it would come and visit you during the night, more vivid than ever, and would never completely release its ugly grasp on you." Finally, "Tested in The Fire of Hell," which almost never surfaced, shows us that despite the passage of 43 years, the incredible pain, despair and anguish has not diminished one iota for Richard Vnuk. His description of his comrades deaths, his close brush with the grim reaper, and his faith in God to bring him home so he could be with his family again in spite of the odds is nothing less than a nonstop, page turning, riveting read! Even the most emotionally stoic will be affected by this historically important, well written memoir! Highly recommended!

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