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Author/Artist: Teedie Cowie Woodcock

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Product Details
Publisher: Cenografix (1689)

New anthology about U of Maryland, Munich Campus

To order, click here



Author: Sheila O’Quirke

We’re in the Army Now: 
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Product Details
Paperback: 64 pages
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (January 2, 2016)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1523231955April box 8


Authors: Art Schmitt & Marie LeDuc

The Men I Didn’t Know

Product Details
Paperback: 170 pages
Publisher: BookSurge Publishing (February 15, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1419624520
ISBN-13: 978-1419624520

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Excerpt from “Taking Back the River.

“For years I carried around anger, guilt, and grief as a result of what I’d experienced being a soldier’s wife during the Vietnam War. After writing my story, I was able to release those feelings and to find some peace.”  Sheila O’Quirke, author of We’re in the Army Now


I was 35 years old when I began to ponder questions like: “Who am I and what’s my purpose on this planet?” Up until then my identity was dependent on who I was in relation to everyone else. For years I struggled with demons. There were several suicide attempts; I saw death as the only way out of a miserable existence.

But at the age of 35 I recognized in me a thirst I’d never known; the need for a spiritual connection and a reason to live. The answers didn’t come overnight; in fact, I found that for me, the long road was the shortest way home. I’d invested so much time and energy into hating myself that it was hard to give that up. It kept me on a merry-go-round of addiction and recovery, spanning several years. But as I began the difficult work of grieving and facing myself, I was able to see the value-the gift-in having had such a rough life.

Product Details

  • Paperback: 374 pages
  • Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (August 3, 2012)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 1512057851
  • ISBN-13: 978-1512057850

The Museum of the American Military Family is compiling stories for a book reflecting on war…

Attention New Mexicans, who are serving in the military, are military veterans, are members of a military family, and would like to write about your experience in that capacity…

Paul Zolbrod, Writer-in-Residence for the Albuquerque-based Museum of the American Military Family is seeking stories for its anthology “From the Front Line to the Home Front: New Mexicans Reflect on War.”

This anthology will include first-hand stories from all perspectives—service members, family members and friends who share their perspectives and experiences. Submissions can be about the recent Middle East campaigns, Vietnam, the Korean War era or World War II—and everything in between. All branches and ranks of the military should be represented.

How you can contribute:

Your story can be as long or as short as you choose. Just make it heartfelt, honest and interesting. We are looking for stories of trial and triumph and loss, stories that demonstrate the warmth and humor of military family life along with its inevitable tensions, offbeat stories that illustrate the variety that accompanies military life in war times–in other words– anything you want to tell of.

You don’t have to consider yourself an accomplished writer to participate. We will provide editorial services to sharpen your contribution.

The book will be arranged by stories of:

Legacy & Aftermath
For more information or to submit a story, please e-mail Writer-in-Residence Paul Zolbrod at

The deadline for submissions is April 30, 2016. Tentative publication date is scheduled for the fall. All stories become part of the Museum of the American Military Family Special Collection Library.

Excerpt: War Ready: In My Father’s Shadow

12961695by Mary Lou Darst

“The first week of school was difficult for me. I had to walk several long blocks from our house to the intersection of a main street. A military bus would stop and pick me up before heading to the top of Mount Kurokuyama, where the American school was located. When I walked to the bus stop in the morning, there were no adults or children out walking. I was the only one on the wide brick street. No one else came and waited for the bus. I stood all alone on the side walk.

In the distance I noticed large groups of uniformed Japanese school children on their way to school, staring at me while slowly crossing the street closer to the bus stop where I was standing alone, and they could have a better look at me.

By the middle of the week they walked to the bus stop, where they stood and stared at me for a long time without smiling, or moving, or speaking- which terrified me. No on had ever stared at me in that way. My mother taught me that it was very rude to stare. I perceived them as suspicious and threatening. I looked for a place to hide, but there was no hope for an escape; in front of me were two empty lots across the street, and behind me was a row of locked gates and doors.

The students never took off their eyes off me and never smiled, but the group moved toward me slowly until I was completely surrounded. I could not have escaped even if I had tried. Without showing any emotion and avoiding any eye contact, a group of students put their hands on me with great care, rubbing their hands back and forth on my arms, watching and feeling my skin. After touching me, the first group moved on, but behind them others took their place. Each student took a turn touching and rubbing my arms, but no one smiled, no one spoke, and no one looked at me directly. I was so terrified. I stood as still as a statue, staring at the ground while my heart nearly palpitated out of my chest. Finally, the last students moved on. I could not endure this every day. I wanted to run home and never leave the house. When I stood alone trying to decide whether to head home or go to school, the bus arrived. The door opened and I ran up to the stairs, sat down, and felt a rush of relief. I was too young and too frightened to know that people care for each other, even when they do not speak the same language. I realize now how kind and caring the students were to show their concern for me. They may also have been very curious about the American student. It was quite different with adults