In the late 1970s, just as China was embarking on a sweeping program of post-Mao reforms, it also launched a one-child campaign. This campaign, which cut against the grain of rural reforms and childbearing preferences, was the culmination of a decade-long effort to subject reproduction to state planning. Tyrene White here analyzes this great social engineering experiment, drawing on more than twenty years of research, including fieldwork and interviews with a wide range of family-planning officials and rural cadres.

White explores the origins of China's "birth-planning" approach to population control, the implementation of the campaign in rural China, strategies of resistance employed by villagers, and policy consequences (among them infanticide, infant abandonment, and sex-ratio imbalances). She also provides the first extensive political analysis of China's massive 1983 sterilization drive. The birth-planning project was the last and longest of the great mobilization campaigns, surviving long after the Deng regime had officially abandoned mass campaigns as instruments of political control.

Arguing that the campaign had become an indispensable institution of rural governance, White shows how the one-child campaign mimicked the organizational style and rhythms both of political campaigns and economic production campaigns. Against the backdrop of unfolding rural reforms, only the campaign method could override obstacles to rural enforcement. As reform gradually eroded and transformed patterns of power and authority, however, even campaigns grew increasingly ineffective, paving the way for long-overdue reform of the birth-planning program.

Major John L. Plaster, a three-tour veteran of Vietnam tells the story of the most highly classified United States covert operatives to serve in the war: The Studies and Observations Group, code-named SOG. Comprised of volunteers from such elite military units as the Army's Green Berets, the USAF Air Commandos, and Navy SEALs, SOG agents answered directly to the Pentagon's Joint Chiefs, with some missions requiring approval from the White House. Now for the first time, the dangerous assignments of this top-secret unit can at last be revealed

On 16 March 1968, two US infantry companies entered a Vietnamese village and in the course of a single morning killed over 400 of its unarmed, unresisting inhabitants . . . This is the first book to examine the response of American society to the My Lai massacre and its ambiguous place in American national memory. Kendrick Oliver argues that the massacre revelations left many Americans untroubled. It was only when the soldiers most immediately responsible came to be tried that opposition to the conflict grew, for these prosecutions were regarded by supporters of the war as evidence that the national leaders no longer had the will to do what was necessary to win. Oliver goes on to show that, contrary to interpretations of the Vietnam conflict as an unhealed national trauma or wound, many Americans have assimilated the war and its violence rather too well, and they were able to do so even when that violence was most conspicuous and current. US soldiers have been presented as the conflict's principal victims, and this was true even in the case of My Lai. It was the American perpetrators of the massacre and not the Vietnamese they brutalized who became the central object of popular concern. Both the massacre and its reception reveal the problem of human empathy in conditions of a counter-revolutionary war - a war, moreover, that had always been fought for geopolitical credibility, not for the sake of the Vietnamese. This incisive enquiry into the moral history of the Vietnam war should be essential reading for all students of the conflict, as well as others interested in the war and its cultural legacies. -- .

Beginning in 1950, the Korean War was a defining moment for the UN and the entirety of the early Cold War, widening the already monumental gulf between the east and west, capitalist and communist. This supplement for Bolt Action expands the rules-set from its World War II roots to this new, and truly modern, conflict. Bolt Action: Korea contains all the rules, Theatre Lists, scenarios, and new and exciting units, never seen in Bolt Action before, to wargame this turbulent period of world history.

Karen Coates and Jerry Redfern spent more than seven years traveling in Laos, talking to farmers, scrap-metal hunters, people who make and use tools from UXO, people who hunt for death beneath the earth and render it harmless. With their words and photographs, they reveal the beauty of Laos, the strength of Laotians, and the commitment of bomb-disposal teams. People take precedence in this account, which is deeply personal without ever becoming a polemic.

Ever since Eve tempted Adam with her apple, women have been regarded as a corrupting and destructive force. The very idea that women can be used as interrogation tools, as evidenced in the infamous Abu Ghraib torture photos, plays on age-old fears of women as sexually threatening weapons, and therefore the literal explosion of women onto the war scene should come as no surprise.

From the female soldiers involved in Abu Ghraib to Palestinian women suicide bombers, women and their bodies have become powerful weapons in the Afghanistan and Iraq wars. In "Women as Weapons of War," Kelly Oliver reveals how the media and the administration frequently use metaphors of weaponry to describe women and female sexuality and forge a deliberate link between notions of vulnerability and images of violence. Focusing specifically on the U.S. campaigns in Afghanistan and Iraq, Oliver analyzes contemporary discourse surrounding women, sex, and gender and the use of women to justify America's decision to go to war. For example, the administration's call to liberate "women of cover," suggesting a woman's right to "bare" arms is a sign of freedom and progress.

Oliver also considers what forms of cultural meaning, or lack of meaning, could cause both the guiltlessness demonstrated by female soldiers at Abu Ghraib and the profound commitment to death made by suicide bombers. She examines the pleasure taken in violence and the passion for death exhibited by these women and what kind of contexts created them. In conclusion, Oliver diagnoses our cultural fascination with sex, violence, and death and its relationship with live news coverage and embedded reporting, which naturalizes horrific events and stymies critical reflection. This process, she argues, further compromises the borders between fantasy and reality, fueling a kind of paranoid patriotism that results in extreme forms of violence.

The Author sets the scene with action on a 2004 tour in Iraq where hard lessons were learnt. Next stop Helmand District, Afghanistan, after rigorous training. By now he had been a Sniper Instructor for eight years and his depth of knowledge makes this almost a sniper's manual. This, combined with his descriptions of the sniper engagements experienced during his Battalion's action packed tour, make this a thrilling and instructive read. He describes not just the operational background moves and tactics but his emotions - taking life even from distances of a kilometre is traumatic. Intense though the action was, there were long periods of watching and waiting. Snipers work in pairs so relationship and trust are all important. Snipers are elite soldiers and clearly the Author is among the best of the best. This is a superb description of professional soldiering at the sharp end. Extract: I could make out the head and shoulders of the insurgent as he was firing in the prone position. I aimed for the centre area - removed the safety catch and held that point of aim. Then I slowly and deliberately operated my trigger squeezing it gently to the rear. The round impacted into the target just below the shoulder. The target seemed to slide down disappearing out of sight, the rifle muzzle remained pointing uppermost in the air.

The Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) was the first new agency established by Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara after he assumed office in 1961. The ambitious McNamara intended to reformulate U.S. strategic nuclear policy and reduce inefficiencies that had developed in the Department of Defense (DoD) in the 1950s. DIA was the lynchpin to both efforts. In the early and middle 1960s, McNamara and his subordinates, Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell Gilpatric and new DIA Director Lieutenant General Joseph Carroll (USAF), worked hard to establish the Agency, but their efforts were delayed or stymied by intransigent and parochial military leadership who objected to the creation of DIA because they feared a loss of both battlefield effectiveness and political influence in Washington, D.C.1 The work of building the DIA was made all the more urgent by the deteriorating situation in Southeast Asia. By the early 1960s, millions of dollars and hundreds of advisory personnel sent by the U.S. were having a negligible impact on the anti-communist campaign there. As the U.S. continued to commit more resources to the ill-fated government in Saigon, the country found itself drawn deeper and deeper into the maelstrom. For DIA, the looming war in Southeast Asia would expose major problems in its organization and performance. Especially in the period from 1961 to 1969, DIA, either because of structural weaknesses or leadership failures, often failed to energetically seize opportunities to assert itself in the major intelligence questions involving the conflict there. This tendency was exacerbated by national military leadership's predilection for ignoring or undercutting the Agency's authority. In turn, this opened up DIA to severe criticism by Congress and other national policymakers, some of whom even considered abolishing the Agency. During the war, McNamara's great hope for reforming military intelligence would be swept up in quarrels between powerful domestic adversaries, and DIA's performance left the Secretary of Defense deeply embittered toward his creation. It was only at the end of the war that DIA assumed a more influential role in Southeast Asia. Until then, however, the Agency was consigned to the wilderness when it came to questions about the Vietnam conflict.

Modern warfare is almost always multilateral to one degree or another, requiring countries to cooperate as allies or coalition partners. Yet as the war in Afghanistan has made abundantly clear, multilateral cooperation is neither straightforward nor guaranteed. Countries differ significantly in what they are willing to do and how and where they are willing to do it. Some refuse to participate in dangerous or offensive missions. Others change tactical objectives with each new commander. Some countries defer to their commanders while others hold them to strict account. NATO in Afghanistan explores how government structures and party politics in NATO countries shape how battles are waged in the field. Drawing on more than 250 interviews with senior officials from around the world, David Auerswald and Stephen Saideman find that domestic constraints in presidential and single-party parliamentary systems--in countries such as the United States and Britain respectively--differ from those in countries with coalition governments, such as Germany and the Netherlands. As a result, different countries craft different guidelines for their forces overseas, most notably in the form of military caveats, the often-controversial limits placed on deployed troops. Providing critical insights into the realities of alliance and coalition warfare, NATO in Afghanistan also looks at non-NATO partners such as Australia, and assesses NATO's performance in the 2011 Libyan campaign to show how these domestic political dynamics are by no means unique to Afghanistan.

When his electronic warfare plane--call sign Bat 21--was shot down on 2 April 1972, fifty-three-year-old Air Force navigator Iceal "Gene" Hambleton parachuted into the middle of a North Vietnamese invasion force and set off the biggest and most controversial air rescue effort of the Vietnam War. Now, after twenty-five years of official secrecy, the story of that dangerous and costly rescue is revealed for the first time by a decorated Air Force pilot and Vietnam veteran. Involving personnel from all services, including the Coast Guard, the unorthodox rescue operation claimed the lives of eleven soldiers and airmen, destroyed or damaged several aircraft, and put hundreds of airmen, a secret commando unit, and a South Vietnamese infantry division at risk. The book also examines the thorny debates arising from an operation that balanced one man's life against mounting U.S. and South Vietnamese casualties and material losses, the operation's impact on one of the most critical battles of the war, and the role played by search and rescue as America disengaged from that war.

In March 2003, M Squadron was sent 1,000 kilometres behind enemy lines on a true mission impossible, to take the surrender of the 100,000-strong Iraqi Army 5th Corps. From the very start their tasking earned the nickname 'Operation No Return'. Caught in a ferocious ambush M Squadron launched a desperate bid to escape; the elite operators destroyed sensitive kit and prepared for death or capture as the Iraqis closed their deadly trap.

Nearly a quarter-century after the fall of Saigon, the memory of America's defeat in Vietnam continues to haunt the national psyche. In "Vietnam Shadows," former war correspondent Arnold Isaacs turns his reportorial eye to the conflict since Vietnam, covering the skirmishes and firefights of a cultural battle--some would say stalemate--that refuses to end.

Isaacs takes on the popular myths and misconceptions about Vietnam--among them the mistaken belief that the U.S. military lacked clear goals. ("In many conversations with U.S. officers in Vietnam, I do not recall discovering any who were in doubt about what they were supposed to do there.") He exposes the myth of the MIAs--a myth sustained not only by grieving relatives but also by professional con men of breathtaking cynicism--and shows how the many false MIA stories may nonetheless reveal a deeper truth: "We lost something in Vietnam and we want it back." Isaacs talks to the veterans unable to forget the war no one wanted to talk to them about. He explores the class divisions deepened by a conflict in which the privileged avoided service that an earlier generation had embraced as a duty. (691 Harvard alumni died in World War II, Isaacs points out; in Vietnam, nineteen.) And he shows how the "Vietnam Syndrome" continues to affect nearly every major U.S. foreign policy decision, from the Persian Gulf to Somalia, Bosnia, and Haiti.

Capturing the ironic legacies of a war that abounds in them, Isaacs introduces the "new Americans"--the Vietnamese, Thais, and Cambodians--who fled Indochina to settle in the U.S., where fashion spreads in the "New York Times Magazine" feature models photographed in Vietnamese settings wearing "Indo-chic clothes" that sell for four to five years' income for the average Vietnamese. ("Farm girl's jacket in 'periwinkle blue' raw silk: $1,460 by Richard Tyler.") And he recounts the experiences of Americans who have returned to Vietnam, only to find their former enemies turned entrepreneurs--such as the operators of a popular Saigon bar called Apocalypse Now.

Isaacs reports and writes for those whose lives were changed by the war and also for a generation that has come of age without memory of Vietnam but who nonetheless feels its shadow in the country they soon will lead.

On October 25, 1944, the Samuel B. Roberts, along with the other twelve vessels comprising its unit, Taffy 3, stood between Japan's largest battleship force ever sent to sea, and General Douglas MacArthur's transports inside Leyte Gulf. Faced with the surprise appearance of more than twenty Japanese battleships, cruisers, and destroyers, including the Yamato, at seventy thousand tons the most potent battlewagon in the world, the twelve-hundred-ton Samuel B. Roberts turned immediately into action with six other ships. The ship churned straight at the enemy in a near-suicidal attempt to deflect the more potent foe and buy time for MacArthur's forces. Of 563 destroyers constructed during World War II, the Samuel B. Roberts was the only one sunk, going down with guns blazing in a duel reminiscent of the Spartans at Thermopylae or Davy Crockett's Alamo defenders. The men who survived faced a horrifying three-day nightmare in the sea, where they battled a lack of food and water, scorching sun, numbing night time cold, and nature's most feared adversary - sharks. The battle would go down as history's greatest sea clash, the Battle of Samar - the dramatic climax of the Battle of Leyte Gulf.

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"An exceptionally well written, well documented, fast-moving account."--"Washington Times"

"This is a book written on multiple levels, and well worth reading."--"M.S. Naval Institute Proceedings"

"This book is a welcome addition to the history of naval aviation and fills a much-needed void by detailing the later years of the Vietnam naval air campaign."--"Sea Power"

"Makes for lively, vivid, and informative reading. I would include it...on my list of the top ten books on the air war in Vietnam."
--"Air Power History"

"John Sherwood has done a fine job in giving us a first-rate account of a confusing but critically important period in Naval Aviation history."--"The Hook"

"As a collection of individual studies and 'war stories, ' "Afterburner" should find an interested readership." --"Military History"

"With a 45-degree dive angle set, 450 knots of airspeed building, and my altimeter unwinding like crazy, my scan went rapidly between the bombsight and flight instruments. . . . When I looked over my shoulder at the target, I could see where the bombs had hit and exploded."

Through stories like this diary entry of a fighter pilot, John Darrell Sherwood brings forth the personal accounts of 21 naval and marine aviators in this chronicle of the second half of the Navy's air war over Vietnam.

Despite spending over 200 billion dollars and dropping almost 8 million tons of bombs on Southeast Asia, the U.S. was unable to score a definitive victory in the air war. Afterburner takes us inside the day-to-day operations of the air war, particularly during the most intense year of the campaign: 1972. During that year, North Vietnam launched the first large-scale conventional attacks on strongholds in South Vietnam. Sherwood shows how the U.S. fought back with some of the most innovative air campaigns in its history, including Nixon's Linebacker bombings and the Navy's mining operation in Haiphong Harbor. From duels with enemy MiGs to the experiences of Commander C. Ronald Polfer, who became the voice of reason among American POWs in the Hanoi Hilton's Room 5, the detailed stories in Afterburner make these historical events come to life.

Sherwood compiles and analyzes an incredible breadth of information about the details of each of the Navy's operations during the air war and then relates the key parts of the narrative through the eyes of an pilot or flight officer involved in each action. Through tales of courage and fear, triumph and horror, Sherwood reveals the lives of common aircrews who performed extraordinary service. Their experiences illustrate the personal nature of war--even from the air--and show that the air war in Vietnam may have begun as a slow burn, but by 1972, it was more intense than an F-4 afterburner.

A riveting memoir of one marine rifleman's journey from Parris Island through the hell of Vietnam and the Tet Offensive with the Second Battalion, Fourth Marines. In 1967, a young E. Michael Helms boarded a bus to the legendary grounds of Parris Island, where mere boys were forged into hardened Marines--and sent to the jungles of Vietnam. It was the first stop on a journey that would forever change him--and by its end, he would be awarded the Purple Heart Medal, Combat Action Ribbon, Presidential Unit Citation, Navy Unit Citation, and the Vietnam Cross of Gallantry. From the brutality and endurance-straining ordeals of boot camp to the endless horror of combat, Helms paints a vivid, unflinchingly realistic depiction of the lives of Marines in training and under fire. As powerful and compelling a battlefield memoir as any ever written, Helms's "grunt's-eye" view of the Vietnam War, the men who fought it, and the mindless chaos that surrounded it, is truly a modern military classic.

The role of the Organized Reserves in the history of the US Army has taken many twists and turns since the nation's founding. The organization and missions of the Army's reserves, both the National Guard and the Army Reserve, are once again undergoing fundamental change to meet the needs of the 21st century. In Iroquois Warriors in Iraq, Mr. Steve Clay analyzes the role played by the "Iroquois Warriors" of the US Army Reserve's 98th Division (Institutional Training). In an unprecedented move, the soldiers of the 98th were called on in mid-2004 to deploy to Iraq and to fulfill a critical role in the building, training, and advising of the new Iraqi Army. This monograph is the story of how that concept evolved and how it came to form a nexus with MNSTC-I that resulted in the use of a USAR training division for an overseas combat mission for the first time in US Army history. The monograph presents issues connected with the mobilization, deployment, training, and integration of Reserve Component (RC) units and personnel in general; the use of units to perform tasks not part of their mission essential task list (METL); and issues associated with the major task assigned to the 98th Division-training and advising a foreign army. It finishes with an analysis of the overall mission and provides conclusions and recommendations for consideration. The intent of this monograph is to expose leaders and soldiers to the issues described above, so in future conflicts, and perhaps even for the current conflict, they might gain insights that will enable them to develop solutions should similar problems arise.

Based on extensive research in the Russian archives, this book examines the Soviet approach to the Vietnam conflict between the 1954 Geneva conference on Indochina and late 1963, when the overthrow of the South Vietnamese president Ngo Dinh Diem and the assassination of John F. Kennedy radically transformed the conflict.
The author finds that the USSR attributed no geostrategic importance to Indochina and did not want the crisis there to disrupt detente. The Russians had high hopes that the Geneva accords would bring years of peace in the region. Gradually disillusioned, they tried to strengthen North Vietnam, but would not support unification of North and South. By the early 1960s, however, they felt obliged to counter the American embrace of an aggressively anti-Communist regime in South Vietnam and the hostility of its former ally, the People's Republic of China. Finally, Moscow decided to disengage from Vietnam, disappointed that its efforts to avert an international crisis there had failed.

At the height of the Vietnam conflict, a complex system of secret underground tunnels sprawled from Cu Chi Province to the edge of Saigon. In these burrows, the Viet Cong cached their weapons, tended their wounded, and prepared to strike. They had only one enemy: U.S. soldiers small and wiry enough to maneuver through the guerrillas' narrow domain.
The brave souls who descended into these hellholes were known as "tunnel rats." Armed with only pistols and K-bar knives, these men inched their way through the steamy darkness where any number of horrors could be awaiting them-bullets, booby traps, a tossed grenade. Using firsthand accounts from men and women on both sides who fought and killed in these underground battles, authors Tom Mangold and John Penycate provide a gripping inside look at this fearsome combat. The Tunnels of Cu Chi" "is a war classic of unbearable tension and unforgettable heroes.

December 1967: Richard Burns had just arrived in Vietnam as part of the fourteen-man 101st Pathfinder Detachment. Within just one month, during a holiday called Tet, the Communists would launch the largest single attack of the war--and he would be right in the thick of it. . . .

In Vietnam, Richard Burns operated in live-or-die situations, risking his life so that other men could keep theirs. As a Pathfinder--all too often alone in the middle of a hot LZ--he guided in helicopters disembarking troops, directed medevacs to retrieve the wounded, and organized extractions. As well as parachuting into areas and supervising the clearing of landing zones, Pathfinders acted as air-traffic controllers, keeping call signs, frequencies, and aircraft locations in their heads as they orchestrated takeoffs and landings, often under heavy enemy fire.

From Bien Hoa to Song Be to the deadly A Shau Valley, Burns recounts the battles that won him the Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart, and numerous other decorations. This is the first and only book by a Pathfinder in Vietnam . . . or anywhere else.

In the Cambodian proverb, "when broken glass floats" is the time when evil triumphs over good. That time began in 1975, when the Khmer Rouge took power in Cambodia and the Him family began their trek through the hell of the "killing fields." In a mesmerizing story, Him vividly recounts a Cambodia where rudimentary labor camps are the norm and technology, such as cars and electricity, no longer exists. Death becomes a companion at the camps, along with illness. Yet through the terror, Chanrithy's family remains loyal to one another despite the Khmer Rouge's demand of loyalty only to itself. Moments of inexpressible sacrifice and love lead them to bring what little food they have to the others, even at the risk of their own lives. In 1979, "broken glass" finally sinks. From a family of twelve, only five of the Him children survive. Sponsored by an uncle in Oregon, they begin their new lives in a land that promises welcome to those starved for freedom.