An excerpt: I was awakened again by a nightmare. In this dream I saw a German lying there. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old. I touched him to see if he was still alive. He rolled over and his skull fell open. I threw up.
I have seen this incident in my dreams at least once or twice a week for the last sixty years, one of four terrors that haunt my sleep relentlessly.
These nightmares bring to life actual events I experienced during World War II. I have never understood: why do I never dream about The Night I Got Killed...
Sy Brenner's (paperback) book, The Night I Got Killed is named for one of many captivating incidents documented in this compelling piece of non-fiction. This is a unique story of resilience, guts & wit.
Sy Brenner - Speaker, Author and ex-POW of WWll The Faces and Phases of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
An excerpt: Everything ran very smoothly like a fine Swiss watch, with the sole purpose of getting us ready to deploy for wherever it is we were going.
An excerpt: There is a unique bond that is created when men are placed together in a difficult situation and must work together.
Within the confines of the Lazarett we grew to rely on each other and to respect one another. We became friends.
An excerpt: Through the agony of his tears, he smiled briefly at my poor attempt at a joke as they carried him out the door. It was very quiet in the room for several minutes before anyone could say anything.
The meaning of that moment stuck with me for the rest of my time in the camp, in fact for the rest of my life-humor really was good medicine.
From now on, I made it a rule to try to make my patients laugh, or at least smile, as I dealt with their painful injuries. Although my jokes were usually pretty corny, I sure would like to think it helped!
An excerpt: While in Pancoast I took the first good look at my bald head since returning home. It didn’t please me at all, but I was able to hang on to the attitude I’d begun to develop-that being bald and in this wretched hospital was sure a lot better than being belly-up in a grave in Europe.
I consoled myself with the thought that God had made only a few perfect people, and put hair on everyone else. I also took comfort in my mother’s homely wisdom as I had done countless times overseas and accepted my situation as “beshert,” meant to be.
The Night I Got Killed, by Sy Brenner as told to Abe Shragge
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Mr. Brenner, I met you at the recent POW meet and greet at the San Diego VA regional office. Just wanted to say that your book is great and God bless you.
Very respectfully, Greg Brown
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