Bushnell General Military Hospital was an Army World War II hospital in Brigham City, Utah from August 1942 to June 1946. It specialized in treating amputations, maxillofacial surgery, neuropsychiatric conditions, and tropical diseases. It was also one of the first hospitals to experimentally use penicillin. Bushnell was a regional facility for wounded solders from the Mountain States that provided quality medical care to patients. The community of Brigham City and the citizens of other Northern Utah communities were an integral part of the success of Bushnell. Citizens donated time, supplies, and money to support the facility and to assist in the care and rehabilitation of injured GIs. Celebrities also visited Bushnell to promote morale, and some disabled Americans assisted injured patients. The hospital staff, along with Northern Utahns, played an important role in helping to rehabilitate and reintroduce injured soldiers into society. Brigham City was also effected by Bushnell Hospital. One major problem was a shortage of housing in Brigham City, which led citizens to rent to family members of patients in private homes. Another was infrastructure needed to support the hospital. However, the benefits mostly outweighed the problems. The city and surrounding communities benefited from the job growth at Bushnell and in Brigham. Downtown businesses received additional revenue from patrons. Because the hospital came to Brigham City, some citizens also met Japanese Americans and German and Italian POWs in addition to those connected to Bushnell. This led Brigham citizens to develop friendships with people they might have not met otherwise. When the war ended, the subsequent closure of Bushnell General Military Hospital brought these benefits to an end, and Brigham City and other Northern Utahn communities hastened to find a new occupant for the hospital facility to ensure jobs. In 1950, it became the Intermountain Indian School. The school closed in 1984, and now businesses and homes occupy the site.

This thesis examines the origins, deployment, operations and demise of 3NZ Division. It argues that the forces that became the Division were sent to Fiji because of a perceived strategic threat, particularly from airpower, if the islands were seized by the Japanese. The Division was relieved in Fiji by the Americans but returned to the Pacific in 1943 because New Zealand wanted to earn a place at the peace table and the Americans lacked troops in the theatre. Whether the Division was primarily an offensive or garrison unit remained unclear throughout its existence and influenced its constitution. Major General Harold Barrowclough, its commander from 1942 to 1944, had somewhat different strengths from his fellow divisional commander Major General Bernard Freyberg, and operated in a very different environment, with amphibious operations at brigade level. Furthermore, his division operated in an area dominated by the United States Navy rather than the more familiar culture of the British Army. More generally, the relationship between the New Zealanders and the Americans in the South Pacific was complex, generally symbiotic but occasionally unfriendly and even lethal. The perception in New Zealand that service in the South Pacific was less onerous than service in the Mediterranean ignores the often unpleasant and even deadly conditions faced by the soldiers of 3NZ Division. The Division’s combat operations contributed significantly to the neutralisation of the Japanese stronghold of Rabaul. Except for a brief period in 1942, 3NZ Division took second place in New Zealand’s war effort to 2NZ Division. This reflected Wellington’s general inclination to favour Commonwealth over local defence, and, despite some wavering, New Zealand declined to follow Australia and focus its efforts in the Pacific. Lack of manpower to field two divisions resulted in 3NZ Division having only two brigades and growing demands from the Air Force, industry and agriculture ultimately led to its disbandment. Thereafter it faded from the public consciousness and its contribution disregarded. The men and women of 3NZ Division have undeservedly become New Zealand's forgotten warriors.

This study focuses on the organisation and operation of the Australian Government’s Department of Information that operated from 1939 to 1950. Equal weighting is given to the wartime and peacetime halves of the Department’s existence, allowing a balanced assessment of the Department’s role and development from its creation through to its abolition. The central issue that the Department had to address was: what was an appropriate and acceptable role for a government information organisation in Australia’s democratic political system? The issue was not primarily one of formal restrictions on the government’s power but rather of the accepted conception of the role of government. No societal consensus had been established before the Department was thrust into dealing with this issue on a practical basis. While the application of the Department’s censorship function attracted considerable comment, the procedures were clear and accepted. Practices laid down in World War I were revived and followed, while arguments were over degree rather than kind. It was mainly in the context of its expressive functions that the Department had to confront the fundamental issue of its role. This study shows that the development of the Department was driven less by sweeping ministerial pronouncements than through a series of pragmatic incremental responses to circumstances as they arose. This Departmental approach was reinforced by its organisational weakness. The Department’s options in its relations with media organisations and other government agencies were, broadly, competition, compulsion and cooperation. Competition was never widely pursued and the limits of compulsion in regard to its expressive functions were rapidly reached and withdrawn from. Particularly through to 1943 the Department struggled when it sought to assert its position against the claims of other government agencies and commercial organisations. Notwithstanding some high profile conflicts, this study shows that the Department primarily adopted a cooperative stance, seeking to supplement rather than supplant the work of other organisations. Following the 1943 Federal elections the Department was strengthened by stable and focused leadership as well as the development of its own distribution channels and outlets whose audience was primarily overseas. While some elements, such as the film unit, remained reasonably politically neutral, the Department as a whole was increasingly employed to promote the message of the Government of the day. This led to a close identification of the Department with the Labor Party, encouraging the Department’s abolition following the Coalition parties’ victory in the 1949 Federal elections. Nevertheless in developing its role the Department had remained within the mainstream of administrative practice in Australia. While some of its staff assumed a greater public profile than had been the practice for prewar public servants, this was not unusual or exceptional at that time. Partly through the efforts of the Department, the accepted conception of the role of government had expanded sufficiently by 1950 that despite the abolition of the Department most of its functions continued within the Australian public sector.

This thesis examines the process by which an Australian policy of post-war economic reconstruction, the main focus of which was the achievement and maintenance of full employment, was developed in preparation for the return of peace at the conclusion of World War II, and the consequences which that policy had within the Australian community. Development of a policy of economic reconstruction took place largely at the instigation of the Curtin Labor government, which had come to power in October 1941, and which in December 1942 established a Ministry of Post War Reconstruction with J.B. Chifley as Minister. Those who were associated with the work of the Ministry in formulating economic policy were Ministers of the Labor Government and professional economists. In the contribution which they made, each was conditioned by the experience of the Great Depression, which motivated them to formulate a policy of full employment, by their adherence to the attitudes and values of the groups to which they belonged: the Labor Party which advocated a move to centralized powers and socialism on the one hand, and the school of Keynesian economic thought which gave the economic initiative to governments on the other, and by the pervasive climate of stringent government direction and control which the war had brought about. This thesis argues that the attitudes and values which were brought to the task of economic reconstruction policy defined the character of that policy, set limits on its scope, and created difficulties in reconciling political and economic views. As a consequence, the policy proposals which were put forward for public debate and endorsement were inadequately thought through, poorly co-ordinated, and too radical to be accepted by the Australian electorate. Because the response of the various interest groups within the community had not been taken into account when the policy was framed, nor had been considered when deciding on the measures to implement the policy, there was considerable opposition to the proposed program of post-war economic reconstruction. This program, when associated with other apparently radical policies such as the nationalization of the banking system, notably contributed to the defeat of the Labor Government in the 1949 elections. The rejection of the post-war reconstruction program might have been avoided or at least ameliorated had a broader perspective been taken in formulating the policy and assessing its consequences.

Für die polnische Geschichtswahrnehmung stellt die Westerplatte – eine kleine Halbinsel bei Gdańsk – ein Symbol des heldenhaften Widerstandes und des aussichtslosen Kampfes gegen Nazi-Deutschland dar. Zu der Gedenkfeier anlässlich des 70. Jahrestags des Kriegsbeginns haben sich am 1. September 2009 auf der Westerplatte rund 20 europäischen Staats- und Regierungschefs versammelt. Die Inhalte, die in den Reden der zentralen Akteure der Gedenkfeier signalisiert wurden, bilden wichtige Referenzpunkte in der nationalen wie supranationalen Aufarbeitung der tragischen Geschichte des vergangenen Jahrhunderts. Im Mittelpunkt des Papers steht das Problem der Wahrnehmung der Geschichte des Zweiten Weltkrieges, das hier an den Auslegungsprozessen in Hinblick auf die Figur Westerplatte an den vier zentralen Reden der Spitzenpolitiker verfolgt und diskursanalytisch ausgewertet wird.

It has been accepted in the historical discourse that a direct link existed between the participation of Aboriginal people in the Second World War and a new political consciousness of Aboriginal people in Canada generally, and Saskatchewan specifically, immediately after the war. This conclusion has been based on the fact that as soldiers, Aboriginal veterans had gained much experience. They had traveled to various parts of the world, had been treated as equals while fighting alongside non-Aboriginal soldiers and had been celebrated as liberators of Europe. On the return to Canada, they found that the situation of Aboriginal people had not changed. Unwilling to accept the substandard treatment for themselves and their people, it is argued, that the Aboriginal veterans became the focal point for Aboriginal rights' movement. There is in fact no evidence to support the notion that the Aboriginal veterans had a direct role in igniting Aboriginal peoples' political consciousness immediately after the war. In the first five years after the war, Aboriginal veterans were more concerned with readjusting to civilian life. They were young men who possessed few adult civilian life experiences and virtually no political experience. The emphasis on Aboriginal veterans as the political leaders after the war ignores the efforts of the existing leaders who had been involved in politics for many years. Although Aboriginal veterans did not directly influence the political climate, their existence as a group was crucial to the shifting attitude of the Canadian public toward Aboriginal people. The portrayal of Aboriginal veterans by the news media as "progressive Indians" due to their contributions to the war effort, impressed upon Canadians the need for change in the relationship between the Canadian government and Aboriginal people. By the 1950s, as the more socially, economically and to a certain extent, geographically mobile the veterans became the more socially and politically active they became. It is the contention of this research that the impact of their war experience is discernible in two ways. First, immediately after the war, the presence of Aboriginal veterans led to Canadian's re-evaluation of the relationship between Aboriginal people and Canadian government. Second, in the post-war era, Aboriginal veterans became active agents of social and political change. In sum, Aboriginal veterans became, first passive catalysts and, later, engines for social and political change.

It has been accepted in the historical discourse that a direct link existed between the participation of Aboriginal people in the Second World War and a new political consciousness of Aboriginal people in Canada generally, and Saskatchewan specifically, immediately after the war. This conclusion has been based on the fact that as soldiers, Aboriginal veterans had gained much experience. They had traveled to various parts of the world, had been treated as equals while fighting alongside non-Aboriginal soldiers and had been celebrated as liberators of Europe. On the return to Canada, they found that the situation of Aboriginal people had not changed. Unwilling to accept the substandard treatment for themselves and their people, it is argued, that the Aboriginal veterans became the focal point for Aboriginal rights' movement. There is in fact no evidence to support the notion that the Aboriginal veterans had a direct role in igniting Aboriginal peoples' political consciousness immediately after the war. In the first five years after the war, Aboriginal veterans were more concerned with readjusting to civilian life. They were young men who possessed few adult civilian life experiences and virtually no political experience. The emphasis on Aboriginal veterans as the political leaders after the war ignores the efforts of the existing leaders who had been involved in politics for many years. Although Aboriginal veterans did not directly influence the political climate, their existence as a group was crucial to the shifting attitude of the Canadian public toward Aboriginal people. The portrayal of Aboriginal veterans by the news media as "progressive Indians" due to their contributions to the war effort, impressed upon Canadians the need for change in the relationship between the Canadian government and Aboriginal people. By the 1950s, as the more socially, economically and to a certain extent, geographically mobile the veterans became the more socially and politically active they became. It is the contention of this research that the impact of their war experience is discernible in two ways. First, immediately after the war, the presence of Aboriginal veterans led to Canadian's re-evaluation of the relationship between Aboriginal people and Canadian government. Second, in the post-war era, Aboriginal veterans became active agents of social and political change. In sum, Aboriginal veterans became, first passive catalysts and, later, engines for social and political change.

For this study, twelve life stories of alumni from the Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam, who were enrolled during the Nazi Occupation between 1940 and 1945, were collected and analyzed. Besides exploring the extent to which the interviews were co-constructed jointly by the interviewer and interviewees, this study addresses three questions. First, it acknowledges methodological concerns associated with an overabundance of narrative data, and suggests a new method for arriving at a core narrative based on the distribution of time. This core narrative can then be analyzed further. Second, it is suggested that early memories serve as identity claims; because of their congruency with the remainder of the story, they appear to foreshadow what is to come. As a result, it is argued that childhood memories merit special attention in the analysis of narratives. Third, and finally, the constraints on narratives imposed by cultural conventions, or master narratives, are explored. Narrators use a variety of strategies in order to satisfy sometimes competing demands on their narratives. It is argued that culture makes its influence felt in ways that are not always obvious, particularly if the interviewee and interviewer share the same culture.

Since the mid-twentieth century, Kurt Vonnegut has enjoyed a permanent spot on the list of history’s most widely read and beloved American authors. Science fiction classics like Cat’s Cradle (1963) and Slaughterhouse-Five (1969) turned Vonnegut into a domestic counter-cultural literary sensation in the United States at mid-century. The presence of a loyal Vonnegut fan base in America, and in the west more broadly, is a well-documented fact. What is less well known among scholars and those familiar with Vonnegut’s work is his popularity in a far more distant place: the Soviet Union. Beginning in the late 1960s, Soviet citizens developed a voracious appetite for Vonnegut’s. Translations of his novels appeared regularly in daily newspapers and highbrow literary journals alike; a play adaptation of Slaughterhouse-Five enjoyed a multi-season run in the Moscow Army Theater; average citizens competed for membership in Vonnegut’s karass. These examples are suggestive of the ways that Kurt Vonnegut’s science fiction literature can serve as a gateway for scholars seeking to understand the Soviet Union during the 1970s. This report contends that Soviet interest in Vonnegut’s dystopian science fiction reflected larger shifts in Soviet attitudes towards pacifism, technology, individual wellbeing, human rights, and past and present wars. It situates these ideas in the context of domestic and global events to illustrate how the peculiar political conditions of the 1970s made this ideological convergence possible. It employs original American and Russian language sources, including Russian newspapers and journals, letters written by Vonnegut’s Russian translator, and Kurt Vonnegut’s own fan mail. At its core, this report challenges the assumption that political and ideological differences precluded Soviet and American citizens from identifying the conditions necessary for ensuring social and technological progress and a future without war. / text

This dissertation examines the engagement of civilian designers in United States Army post architecture and planning between 1917 and 1948. During those years, the built environment of the Army was fundamentally transformed, as troops relocated from frontier posts and coastal fortifications to large permanent military bases. First conceived of as “soldier cities,” by the end of World War II these posts had come to resemble garden suburbs. At the same time, the architecture and planning of civilian communities also changed. Turn-of-the-century affection for the industrial city had, by 1920, given way to a preference for suburban living among the upper classes. After World War II, suburbia would become ubiquitous, as federally- supported tract-house developments sprung up around the nation. These changes in civilian and military architecture and planning were, I argue, tightly connected, in part through the movement of civilian designers back and forth between civilian and military commissions. For architects and planners, the Army post was a kind of laboratory in which to experiment with design concepts outside the constraints of the real estate market. For Army officials, meanwhile, the involvement of outside experts in post design helped to convince potential recruits and the public alike that military life was not so different from civilian life. As the built environments of military and civilian America mutually influenced one another, the distinction between the two narrowed, and the Army effectively hid itself in plain sight. I track the exchange between civilian and military design ideals in five chronological chapters, each highlighting a particular episode in Army post design, and each connecting to broader themes in American urban and suburban history. The first two chapters take place during World War I and look at the planning of the Army’s training camps, and the architecture of the YMCA and YWCA buildings therein. The third chapter focuses on the permanent post- building program of the 1920s and 1930s. The fourth chapter recounts the Army’s pre-World War II experiments in prefabrication, and the final chapter examines the re-planning of the atomic town of Oak Ridge, Tennessee, in 1948.