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,...

I was at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. I was a seventeen-year-old signalman aboard the USS Oklahoma. When the attack came, I was asleep in my bunk. The first thing I knew was the sound — this enormous roar, like the whole world was tearing apart. I ran topside and saw a Japanese plane so close I could see the pilot's face. He was young. He looked scared too. Then the torpedoes hit. The Oklahoma rolled over. I ended up in the water with oil all over me. I remember thinking: the water is warm. That's the thing I remember most — the water was warm. I got picked up by a destroyer that was itse...

I flew 35 missions over Ploiești, Vienna, Budapest, and Berlin. My closest call: over Vienna in February 1944, my B-24 took a direct 20mm shell through the cockpit, killing my co-pilot instantly. His blood covered my flight controls. I had to land the plane with my hands covered in it, trying not to look at his face. His name was Paul Hartman. He was 21. We made it back to Foggia, Italy. I delivered his body to the medics and went to get coffee. Then I threw up for twenty minutes. The squadron commander came and found me and said: 'You're flying again tomorrow.' I said 'yes sir.' What else was...