Wide-open beaches, Insta-worthy scenery, five-dollar seafood feasts, and villagers excited to see visitors… You’ve never heard of Quy Nhon, despite its stunning scenery and welcoming atmosphere. Neither have all the tourists. That’s the point. I’ll show you where to go, where to stay, what to experience, and of course, where to eat and drink. The travel bloggers are wrong about Ky Co Beach. I’ll show you how to do Ky Co like an expert. But there's a little-known beach that's a million times better than Ky Co, with soft sand, rolling waves, and a giant Buddha statue. I'll take you there. Quy Nhon’s biggest seafood restaurant, the one with the pretty-girl waitresses, isn’t all that great. I’ll show you much better seafood. We’ll make Vietnamese sashimi hand rolls for lunch. In the fishing villages I show you, people will ask to pose for photos with anyone they don’t recognize. For dinner, you can choose your free-range chicken while it’s still free on the range. Then we'll have coffee in a miniature lighthouse, and explore a creepy abandoned theme park. Let’s discover Quy Nhon!

Hanoi: a maze of alleys, lakes, pagodas, jazz clubs, cafes, and Soviet statues. Even for us Vietnamese people, Hanoi is infamously inscrutable. It’s Vietnam’s enigma wrapped in a mystery, with egg cream on top. You can take the easy, well-trodden path: the tourist market, the tourist pho restaurant, the tourist beer street, and a dude in a glass case. Or you can go local: eat the pho that Vietnamese foodies eat, drink the coffee VIetnamese hipsters drink, and hang out on the other beer street, the one that’s not in any guidebooks, the one for locals. I'll even show you a super-creepy abandoned amusement park. Instead of canned propaganda, you'll understand the real stories behind the places and people you’re seeing. You'll meet “the locals.” Yes, they’d love to chat with you, they want to practice their English, and no, they don’t hate Americans. Nobody cares about the war anymore. We’ll wander down sketchy alleys and experience amazing places you’d never find in mass-market, foreigner-produced, ChatGPT-written guidebooks. I’ll also teach you practical skills to break away from the guided tours and well-worn tourist attractions: the lowdown on Vietnam visas (the rules were completely changed in 2023), how to get around, how to buy things, what to say, and what (and whom!) to avoid. My guidebooks took you to Saigon and Da Nang. You had a great time. Now, let’s meet the final boss: Hanoi. You’ll love it, I promise.

Experience real Saigon: My Saigon 2024 Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) offers bustling streets, amazing walks, too-hip-for-you cafes, rocking music clubs, luxurious salons, explosively delicious restaurants, and indoor cat zoos. Saigon is Vietnam. It’s young, practical, crowded, and a little bit brash. Most visitors to Saigon see the same boring “attractions”: boring restaurants, tourist-trap markets, and War propaganda. Saigon has so much more to experience than tourists see. My Saigon gives you the insider track: the most amazing experiences, the cultural backstories, the practical go-to tips, the best coffee, the best food (far beyond pho and banh mi), the best hangouts, the coolest stuff, and hipsters, hipsters everywhere. Details about 90-day and multi-entry electronic visas to Vietnam (new as of August, 2023). Big-picture navigation. History your tour guides aren't allowed to mention. Good hotels for cheap, without hostels, bedbugs, and weird smells. Get mobile data up and running without being scammed. The best pho in Saigon: no, it's not the one in the backpacker district. Awesome, authentic, cheap restaurants where my friends and I eat -- and Tripadvisor has no clue about. Coffee. Did someone say coffee? 1930s coffee, street coffee, "specialty" coffee, all kinds of coffee: I'll tell you where. Hang out with Vietnamese people, munch on dried squid, listen to Viet Pop (if you dare). Make cool friends, date guys or girls, whatever flag you might fly. Bust out with Saigonese slang to make your new friends laugh. Watch out for Saigon's mafia: they run the streets, and they don't announce themselves. Don't unintentionally offend people by wearing a popular tourist souvenir t-shirt. You definitely shouldn't give money to beggars and street kids. Avoiding taxi scams in Saigon is so easy, but most tourists refuse to learn. My Saigon is a guide, a love confessional, an instruction manual, and an ode to the city.

Spearhead of Logistics is a narrative branch history of the U.S. Army's Transportation Corps, first published in 1994 for transportation personnel and reprinted in 2001 for the larger Army community. The Quartermaster Department coordinated transportation support for the Army until World War I revealed the need for a dedicated corps of specialists. The newly established Transportation Corps, however, lasted for only a few years. Its significant utility for coordinating military transportation became again transparent during World War II, and it was resurrected in mid-1942 to meet the unparalleled logistical demands of fighting in distant theaters. Finally becoming a permanent branch in 1950, the Transportation Corps continued to demonstrate its capability of rapidly supporting U.S. Army operations in global theaters over the next fifty years. With useful lessons of high-quality support that validate the necessity of adequate transportation in a viable national defense posture, it is an important resource for those now involved in military transportation and movement for ongoing expeditionary operations. This text should be useful to both officers and noncommissioned officers who can take examples from the past and apply the successful principles to future operations, thus ensuring a continuing legacy of Transportation excellence within Army operations. Additionally, military science students and military historians may be interested in this volume.

Napalm, incendiary gel that sticks to skin and burns to the bone, came into the world on Valentine’s Day 1942 at a secret Harvard war research laboratory. On March 9, 1945, it created an inferno that killed over 87,500 people in Tokyo—more than died in the atomic explosions at Hiroshima or Nagasaki. It went on to incinerate sixty-four of Japan’s largest cities. The Bomb got the press, but napalm did the work. After World War II, the incendiary held the line against communism in Greece and Korea—Napalm Day led the 1950 counter-attack from Inchon—and fought elsewhere under many flags. Americans generally applauded, until the Vietnam War. Today, napalm lives on as a pariah: a symbol of American cruelty and the misguided use of power, according to anti-war protesters in the 1960s and popular culture from Apocalypse Now to the punk band Napalm Death and British street artist Banksy. Its use by Serbia in 1994 and by the United States in Iraq in 2003 drew condemnation. United Nations delegates judged deployment against concentrations of civilians a war crime in 1980. After thirty-one years, America joined the global consensus, in 2011. Robert Neer has written the first history of napalm, from its inaugural test on the Harvard College soccer field, to a Marine Corps plan to attack Japan with millions of bats armed with tiny napalm time bombs, to the reflections of Phan Thi Kim Phuc, a girl who knew firsthand about its power and its morality.