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Green Card Soldier
Hellgate Press
Amazon
Category:
Historical Fiction
Publisher: Hellgate Press
ISBN-10: 155571756X
Type: Fiction
Pages: 400
Copyright: May 1, 2013
ISBN-13: 9781555717568
Price: $12.76 (eBook)
Green Card Soldier marches through the exploits of a naïve Bosnian teen who joins the U.S. Army to earn his citizenship while coming to grips with the upheavals in his homeland. The tale is told by a cynical, yet self-deprecating, war correspondent who, over the years, has reported on similar pursuits in bizarre locations around the globe.
Green Card Soldier is an historic adventure novel that follows the exploits of Andro Babich – a naïve, but inquisitive teenage soccer star frustrated by his mundane life on the family farm in Bosnia. In the early ’90s, Andro’s sporting hopes are dashed as the former Yugoslavia is battered by thunderous storms of religious and nationalistic disgust that rip apart families, villages and the Balkan countryside. Once-civil debate decays into hate mongering, land grabbing and ethnic cleansing on all sides.
This tragic tale is told by Heath Winslow – a cynical, yet self-deprecating, war correspondent who, for decades, has seen much the same in other locales around the globe. Both characters challenge readers with the question: Can life become richer, and people stronger, when we look beyond labels to appreciate one another for the unique individuals we are?
In the years that follow, Andro escapes to Greece, sails to America and joins the Army. As a Green Card Soldier, he soon earns his U.S. citizenship. Andro then returns to Bosnia as a U.S. AID worker. During several vexing escapades, he meets a multitude of dynamic people and faces a mound of barriers to reaching his life’s goal. This swarm of forces tests his drive and attempt to skew his moral compass. Andro has an epiphany about achieving his quest. In the end, our Green Card Soldier identifies several simple, but universal truisms that he plants as part of his former homeland’s rebirth.
Excerpt
Chapter 28 farewell...
It’s mid-July, 1999… a beautiful Bosnian farewell afternoon for Mr. Heath Winslow. As he flits around the Sarajevo flat, gathering the last of his belongings, Heath carries on yet another snarly tête-à-tête with himself, trying to discern why he came back to Sarajevo in the first place.
That’s at least twenty pounds of diddly-squat smashed into a ten-pound bag, Devilish Heath quips as his master finishes grouping spiral notepads and cassette tapes.
And bless that crusty milk carton for serving your filing needs so well, Angelic Heath muses.
Excuse me, sir, Devilish asks. Why was it so damn important to build this cross-referenced paper scrap heap in the first place?
That’s a good question, Angelic notes. Did it ever provide any real direction?
Hell, I don’t know, Heath thinks. I guess I should have published this refuse from my teeming shores ages ago.
So, it stands as a mighty chronicle to your lack of wisdom in general. Is that what you’re saying? The devilish one asks.
Or, at least something like that, the angelic one injects. Think about it. All this stuff was meant to bring clarity to vagueness. And how well did that work out, Mr. Winslow?
“Okay, you two. Enough of the condescending self-talk!” Heath shouts, trying to bring his mind back into a singular reality. “It’s better to focus on the task at hand, for it’s time to blow this popcorn stand.”
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