By the time the first whistle echoed from the train yard, Ellen Craft was no longer Ellen. She was Mr. William Johnson, a pale young…
So Gurong stayed alone, outnumbered, wounded, running out of ammunition, but still holding. The Japanese had committed their entire force to breaking through this one…

May 12, 1945. A muddy trench in the Burmese jungle. Three Girka riflemen crouched in darkness, listening to the sounds of at least 200 Japanese…
Ellen teaching children to read and write was completing a circle that had begun decades earlier when she was threatened with violence for seeking that…
Other passengers dozed or stared out windows, but he couldn’t look away from the landscape rolling past. Each mile was a small eternity. Each minute…
Baltimore was getting closer. The final checkpoint, the last barrier. In the first class car, a conductor moved through checking tickets. When he reached Ellen,…
There was something in the way she said it, a slight emphasis on the word servant that made Ellen’s pulse quicken. She nodded without speaking.…
“I understand,” she said, her voice dropping even lower, forcing the officer to lean in slightly to hear. “I am traveling under my physician’s strict…
They did not walk to the station together. That would have been the first mistake. William left first, blending into the stream of workers and…
Heavy bombers would never again be used in direct support of ground troops. The problem had been studied. The lessons had been learned. The solution…





