In 1957 emigreer die negejarige Henk van Woerden vanaf Nederland met sy gesin na Kaapstad – leertas in die hand, mussie oor die ore, serp om die nek, glasoog in die oogkas. Eers veertig jaar later ontdek hy wat die rede was vir hierdie vertrek na Suid-Afrika: Sy pa was ’n kollaborateur in die Tweede Wêreldoorlog. Die emigrasie is die begin van ’n lewe as buitestaander en vorm later die goue draad in sy skilderye en literêre werk.

Koning Eenoog is ’n boeiende biografie van die ewig soekende emigrant Henk van Woerden (1947–2005), ’n skrywer wat nie net ’n bekroonde oeuvre agtergelaat het nie (Een mond vol glas – Alan Paton Award en die Frans Kellendonk-prys, Ultramarijn – Gouden Uil en Inktaap) maar ook die Nederlandse literatuur oor Suid-Afrika verander het.

A moving journey of discovery into the unexplored continent that is often our families’ past. It can be read as a reconstruction of one’s own Jewish and at the same time European-South African roots, but through these micro-histories we arrive at the events of the Second World War and the Holocaust to the level of macro-history.

Egonne Roth’s work brilliantly illustrates the complex mechanism of intergenerational, communicative memory and cultural memory (described by Jan and Aleida Assmann, among others). On a feminist level, it is also a personal history of the daughter-father relationship, leading to a kind of purification, a catharsis.

The detective-like reconstruction of the multi-ethnic segments of the family’s history has as its backdrop the arduous completion of one’s own biography from scraps of documents, accounts of the now few witnesses, secrets, and traumas hidden for decades.

Introduced in 1918 as an award for bravery in the field, the Military Medal was almost immediately open to women. During its 80 year existence, the Military Medal was awarded to women on only 146 occasions, the vast majority during the First World War. This volume provides the definitive roll of recipients together with citations, many of which were not available at the time, plus service and biographical detail. Over 80% of the entries are accompanied by a photograph. The vast majority of the recipients were British, but the medal was open to women of all nationalities and the names of French and United States recipients are recorded together with allied personnel from the Empire.

Describes the twelve campaigns fo r whichthe India General Service Medal 1908-1935 was awarded - North West Frontier1908; Abor 1911-12; Afghanistan North West Frontier 1919; Mahsud 1919-20; Waziristan 1919-21; Malabar 1921-22; Waziristan 1921-24; Waziristan 1925; North West Frontier 1930-31; Burma 1930-32; Mohmand 1933; North West Frontier 1935. Includes the Medal Rolls of the British Army and Royal Air Force are published for all officer entitlements, all multi-clasp recipients, and all personnel of units present in less than battalion strength - in all, a total of more than 14,000 names (civilians included). Recipients of single-clasp medals who served with regiments and units present in full strength are not included, partly because of the sheer volume of names and partly because verification of these medals on the original rolls is not so complex. The many difficulties of using the original rolls and on-line versions are explained in the Introduction. Hence the published rolls in this book make it straightforward for collectors and military historians to check officer, multi-clasp and 'odd men' entitlements to the India General Service Medal 1908-1935. The degree of rarity of medals for any given campaign clasp(s) to individual regiments or units (including the Royal Air Force) is specified. In addition, this volume includes: Rolls of Honour for the British Establishment; Orders of Battle for the British and Indian Establishments with the names of Commanding Officers; and many previously unpublished photographs.

My recollection of one of the proudest days of my life. At the Meardy Farm, I stood next to my mother and my dad Arthur while she rang France to speak to the Duke of Windsor. The change in my mothers voice from this miserable woman in her sixties, who would moan and groan regardless about life, into a young girl blushing at the sound of his voice. "Hello David, its Rose," she sounded so gentle. I looked at Arthur and he did not look happy with mum, hearing her conversation, watching her acting in this way. I stood waiting nervously, what would I say to this man? A Prince, a King, and now the Duke of Windsor, but always my father. Then mum passed me the telephone, I put it against my ear and stammered. "Hello, it's Roy, Roy Albert." The telephone went silent for a few moments, then a voice on the end of the line replied, "Hello Roy Albert, this is Edward ..."