On August 31, 1944, near the town of Archingny, France, I was the loader in a Sherman tank called 'Wolverine.' We had been pushing through France for three weeks straight without resupply — eating K-rations, sleeping in the mud, smelling like diesel and gunpowder. On that day, we crossed a small bridge and found ourselves facing four German Panthers that had been abandoned — out of fuel. The crews had stripped them and walked east. Our driver, a kid from Detroit named Tommy Kowalski, got out and examined the Panthers. He found a German soldier's lunch pail in one of them — still had actual bre...

I was a bicycle mechanic in Lille when the Germans came. In 1942, the Resistance recruited me because I could repair anything — including a German Enigma component that had been salvaged from a crashed plane. My job was to courier messages between the Pas-de-Calais network and the British intelligence station in London. I bicycled 80 kilometers a week carrying microfilm messages sewn into the linings of my coat. The Gestapo had a photograph of me — taken by a collaborator — that circulated through every police station in northern France. I disguised myself: grew a mustache, changed my posture,...