To smooth over Castro’s ruffled feathers; Khrushchev eventually wrote him a personal letter explaining his reasons for reaching an agreement with the United States following the Cuban Missile Crisis. In it, he also extended Castro an invitation to come and visit him in Moscow. The Cuban leader, feeling that this enhanced his international standing, set aside his resentments and swallowed his pride, knowing that his country would have to depend on the USSR for its many needs. He also understood that the ideology that brought his country to where it was had also created many divisions among its people. The United States, on which Cuba had depended on for so many years, was no longer an ally they could trade with, and the new friendship with a distant country created many of its own problems. Many of Cuba’s professional class had fled the country for the United States, when the companies they worked for became nationalized. The brain drain Cuba experienced was hard to replace, and most of those that had stayed, were not prepared to fill the more technical positions. The shelves were bare and people were becoming intolerant of the many domestic problems they were required to face.

It was a glorious experience for the children to travel by rail and the panoramic views of Africa through the big glass window in the rear of the last car of the Blue Train, were beyond description. It was just as you would expect it to be, as described in a vintage National Geographic magazine, with springbok and other wild animals abounding. The distance is approximately the same as from New York City to Chicago and took an overnight. Adeline and Lucia talked late into the night as the children tried to hear what was being said. There was a lot of catching up to do, but it had been a long and exhausting day and the next thing they all knew, it was the following morning and the train was approaching Cape Town or Kaapstad in Afrikaans, affectionately known as the “Tavern of the Seas.

On Saturday evening, August 5, 2017, FAPA announced and presented awards to the 2017 medalists at the FAPA President’s Book Awards Banquet that was held in the Hilton Hotel at Disney World in Orlando, Florida. Captain Hank Backer’s book “Suppressed I Rise” is the true story of Adeline Perry and her daughters’ saga in Nazi Germany. Evading evil forces that almost proved to be overwhelming, it begins when she left South Africa, her native country, and accompanied her German husband to a strange, foreboding and foreign country. Adapted from Adeline Perry’s original notes and manuscripts and her daughters’ reflections, Captain Hank Bracker, originally from Germany, reveals how the young mother survived through bombings and dangerous situations with her two children. “Suppressed I Rise” was recognized with three awards at the FAPA Banquet: a Bronze Medal for “Nonfiction for Young Adults,” a Silver Medal for “Political/Current Events” and the coveted Gold Medal for “Biography.

I went along on this ride, as did Adolph, and we returned to the Feudenheim district of Mannheim, which was where our apartment stood. The roads were extremely cratered from the frequent bombings and the driver had to carefully circumvent these deep chasms. As we drove along we were fully aware that we could also become an inviting target, but eventually we arrived at the house safely. Surprisingly, the house was still relatively undamaged and my flat was locked up and further secured with a padlock, which I had used. It was apparent from the drawn blinds that everyone had moved out. Luckily I still had the keys and could open the door. Letting ourselves in, we looked around. It was really surprising that everything was still in place and that looters hadn’t ransacked everything, as was usually the case. Pointing out the items of furniture I would need, Herr Meyer quickly organized the boys, in a military fashion, and had them carry my things down the three flights of stairs. Even the truck driver helped carry my things, and to my delight the move went smoothly. When the truck was finally loaded, the weight became apparent. Weighted down with an old coal stove and its chimney sections, kitchen cupboard, a radio, double bed and mattress, a sofa and my wardrobe as well as pots and pans, it was down onto its axles.

Since 1941 the USO, a nonprofit, chartered charitable corporation has presented upbeat live performances called “Camp Shows” with some of these actually held in combat zones.

My pillowcases were totally full and the boots hanging around my neck added to the weight I was carrying, but I was determined to get my loot back to the house. Hiding what I couldn’t carry in a closet in the back of the office, I left with what I could carry, fully expecting to return for the rest later.
The main roads were teeming with refugees and looters. Not wanting to be seen, I decided to use a little known path that ran around the back of the village. I reached a small stream and attempted to cross it by jumping from one stone to another. But with both hands full, I lost my balance and fell into the wet mud. Lying there totally exhausted and humiliated, I was close to tears. I simply couldn’t go on, when suddenly a hand took hold of my arm and pulled me up. I found myself looking into the stern face of a uniformed Home Guardsman. Holding me by my shoulders he instantly started to scold me for looting the foodstuff that was scattered in the mud. I knew that looters could be shot and my fear was that he would turn me over to the Moroccans for punishment. Luckily, he said that he didn’t want to single me out when everyone was doing the same thing. After telling him about my two small children, he told me to go home and look after them. I guess the Home Guard didn’t care who they answered to, Nazis or Moroccans, it was all the same to them! I guess that he was just doing his job.