liberation

May 29, 2017 by Tricia Goyer 4 Comments

Don’t Let Their Stories Die

Memorial Day is a time to remember:

In 2000, I got my idea for what came to be my first historical novel, From Dust and Ashes. Wanting to know more about the 23 men who liberated Mauthausen concentration camp, I contacted the 11th Armored Division who put me in touch with six of the veterans. These men then invited me to attend the 59th reunion of their division. I wasn’t expecting that at all. I thought they’d point me to a good research book or allow me to interview them over the phone.I felt SO unworthy to meet with these men. I knew very little about WWII, and I didn’t want my inexperience to show. Not to mention the $1000+ for airfare, hotels, rental car for a book I didn’t have a contract to write.

I urged a friend to go with me, and I’ve been so thankful we went. The men were caring and opened their hearts to me. They shared stories with me that they hadn’t shared with anyone before. They laughed. They cried. They took my hands and thanked me for caring about their story. They hugged me and kissed my cheeks.

When it came to writing my novel, I wasn’t writing about fictional characters. I was writing pieces of Charlie’s story, bits of Arthur’s experiences. The memories that made LeRoy cry made it into my book. The snapshots that Tarmo carried around in his mind for 60 years transformed into scenes in my novel (and the novels to follow!).

I get many letters from readers who say that my novels come to life on the pages–that’s because the men’s experiences came to life to me as I looked into their eyes and saw glimpses of young heroes. Also, the following year I went to Europe and walked the streets of the SS housing with a man who’d been nine-years-old when the camp opened near his home. Again, I “saw” the story in his eyes as he shared—this time from someone on the outside.

There was an added benefit to this diligent research that I didn’t expect. After my second novel Night Song came out I received a letter from a veteran. He made a list of twenty minor research points that I’d gotten right, and then he asked, “One thing I didn’t understand was the faith element of this story. Can you tell me more about your faith in God?”

YES!

Because I had done the research, I’d was able to share about my Jesus with a veteran who has since passed away.

Reach out to a veteran today and listen to his or her story! #memorialday @triciagoyer

Click To Tweet

If you have a veteran in your life … today is the perfect day to reach out—to listen to his or her story. Don’t let the stories die, when you have a chance to make a difference.

To read some of their stories, click here.

Enter to win a copy of my book Remembering You! Winners announced next week!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Are you new here? You might want to subscribe to my email updates, or follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Google+, or Instagram.

Disclosure of Material Connection: Some of the links in the post above are “affiliate links.” This means if you click on the link and purchase the item, I will receive an affiliate commission. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I use personally and believe will add value to my readers. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

May 30, 2015 by Tricia Goyer 5 Comments

We Meet Again by Charles Torluccio

We Meet Again

by Charles Torluccio | 11th Armored Division

One morning in 1990, my wife Doris and I were having morning coffee and reading the newspaper when I noticed that a Holocaust survivor named George Topaz was having a book signing in our town. As I read about Mr. Topaz’s experiences, I felt my skin tingle. I grabbed my cap with the 11th Armored Division emblem on it and told Doris we had to make that signing.

We sat off to the side while Mr. Topaz talked with those who’d purchased copies of his book, The Iron Furnace. Hours later, after the last person had left, Mr. Topaz lifted his head and looked to Doris and I, surprise we still waited. Then he looked to the emblem on my cap. Instantly, his eyes grew wide and he smiled. Before I could say a word, the man jumped from his seat and swept me into his arms.

“You were there. It was your division that liberated our death march in 1945!” Mr. Topaz spurted.

I thought back to that day as I was again pulled into this man’s strong embrace. It was a day I’ll never forget.

The horror began when our armored division drove up to the empty camp Flossenburg. The Nazi’s had heard we were coming and had fled. All that remained were the skeletal bodies of prisoners—silent testimonies to the horror. As an armored division, we couldn’t stop long and soon moved forward, only to spot dead bodies lining the roads. I was just a young kid straight out of high school; a replacement for killed or injured troops. Nothing had prepared me for the sight of thin arms and legs poking out of striped uniforms, their distorted faces staring at us, reminding us we were too late.

Not too much further, we rounded a hill and noticed a staggering parade of prisoners. There were thousands of them, and they looked like broomsticks with tennis balls on top. Upon seeing us they cheered, realizing they’d beat all odds and had survived the war.

“I will never forget that day forty-five years ago,” Mr. Topaz continued, looking into my eyes. “It’s the day I again became a free man. The only thing I wish I knew was whether we were liberated on April 22rd or April 23th. I was so weak, I hadn’t paid much attention at the time.”

“Oh, it was the 23th. I know that for a fact,” I told Mr. Topaz.

“How?” He scratched his head.

I placed a hand on George’s shoulder. “It’s hard to forget the events of one’s nineteenth birthday.”

“April 23rd is your birthday?”

I nodded, my eyes brimming with tears. George and I discovered that day that we only live ten miles from each other. When we parted, George told me he’d be in touch. A few weeks later I received his phone call.

“Happy Birthday!” George’s voice called out over the phone.

“Happy Liberation!” I cheerfully answered back.

After we hung up, George came over and we celebrated our day with brunch and presents. George told me about his life in a prison camp and about the many things he’d done to survive. The Nazis needed a shoemaker, and he was their next shoemaker. The Nazis needed a plumber; he was their next plumber. He didn’t know a thing about plumbing, but that’s what got him through.

George and I have been friends ever since. Recently, we’ve also met a third man who was in the same death march that our division liberated. He also lives close by and joins in our celebration.

Every year, I make sure I’m early to bed on April 22nd. That’s because George and I have a contest to see who will be the first to call. Sometimes George wins, sometimes I do.

“Happy Liberation!” I tell him as the dawn breaks on our new year.

“Happy Birthday!” he answers. And I smile, knowing that George’s friendship, and our amazing connection from a continent way, makes my birthday happy indeed.

Are you new here? You might want to subscribe to my email updates, or follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Google+, or Instagram.

May 5, 2015 by Tricia Goyer 1 Comment

Stories from the Heart | The Importance of Interviewing Veterans

Stories from the Heart

The Importance of Interviewing Veterans

Sometimes the best stories are the ones hidden deep in a heart.

I recently opened a bubble envelope from my friend John. John is 86-years-old. I first meet him in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Or, wait, maybe it was Buffalo, New York.

You see, I traveled to those places to interview Veterans from the 11th Armored Division. I first heard about these World War II vets when I was touring Mauthausen Concentration Camp in Austria.

Today is a very special day as it is the 70th reunion of the liberation of Mauthausen camp in Europe, and I’m remembering the very special stories of veterans have shared with me. Those stories soon inspired a novel, From Dust and Ashes, and many more novels after that.

What I didn’t realize that while the novels were nice, an even greater gift has been the relationships with the dozens of men like John. The best stories are the ones I found deep in a veteran’s heart.

Opening the bubble envelope from John I found a few things. First was a booklet published by the Shippensburg Historical Society. The Battle of the Bulge: One Small Corner by Dr. John Fague. There are some newspaper clippings from John’s column, “Do You Remember?” And …

Gasp. There are photocopies of letters that 19-year-old John wrote to his mother.

Dec 26 Tue 1944

Mother dear,

Today we are having wonderful weather. The sun is warm and everything beautiful. On days like this, it is really enjoyable living in the outdoors. The ground is frozen except in a few places where the sun has thawed an inch on top. At nights the temp goes below freezing, and it is very cold. I would much rather have freezing weather like this than mud and rain which we will have soon. So far, I haven’t been cold at night yet. I have one bed roll inside the other and two arm blankets for insulation against the frozen ground …

April 27, 1945

Dear Dad,

The other day I saw something which left a vivid impression on my mind. In our advance we came on thousands of slaves whom the Germans were attempting to evacuate … the prisoners had been starved and beaten. Their cheeks were hollow, and some were too weak to walk. The clothes they wore were pitiful and some had convict suits which looked like pajamas.

I found myself reading through the letters in awe. Even though I’ve interviewed over 100 veterans, I’m always moved by each personal story. I learn something through ever letter and story.

Out of all the veterans who fought, each veteran’s experiences, hopes, fears, and pain are unique.

When I first started writing fiction I was excited about seeing my name in print. I thought making up characters was fun. I loved being around writers, and I hoped that I could write something that could entertain and inspire readers.

What I didn’t expect was how I would be inspired. I didn’t expect to meet men like John. I didn’t expect to receive gifts like these letters.

A few years ago I was attending a writer’s conference and the speaker asked, “If you could only write one more novel which story would you choose?” An idea popped into my mind. It was a story of a young woman who was busy with life until she was asked to travel to Europe with her grandfather to visit all his old World War II battle sites.

I knew I wanted to write this story so I could—in a small way—share the relationships with WWII veterans that have meant so much to me.

Remembering You is more than just a title. It’s my pledge as a writer. I will remember those who cared enough to share their stories. I will remember them with words on the page. I will remember them deep in my heart.

But even more than that I’d like you to consider the veterans in your life.

Is there a family member, neighbor or fellow church member who served? Make it your goal this month to call him or her.

Many veterans appreciate when someone is willing to listen. Maybe some of you writers might—like me—find a story in their words, but even if you don’t I bet you’ll find a friend.

More than that you’ll remind a veteran that what he or she did matters. Sometimes the best thing we can do for someone else is ordering a coffee and sitting back with an listening ear.

Make sure to stop by my Facebook this week for the chance to win a copy of Remembering You! Click here and here for more info.

Call a #veteran & express your appreciation today! @TriciaGoyer

Click To Tweet

Check out the original post at Seekerville.com.

Are you new here? You might want to subscribe to my email updates, or follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Google+, or Instagram.