KIRKUS REVIEW How books raised spirits during World War II. In 1941, the American Army faced the challenge of training hastily convened troops and amassing basic supplies to wage an extensive war in Europe. Soon, the Army discovered another serious challenge: low morale. Far from home, cut off from family and friends, fearful and stressed, the new conscripts longed for distraction. “What the Army needed,” writes attorney Manning (The Myth of Ephraim Tutt: Arthur Train and His Great Literary Hoax, 2012) in this intriguing history, “was some form of recreation that was small, popular, and affordable. It needed books.” Financial straits made buying books impossible, so librarians volunteered to mount a book drive. In the first two years, the Victory Book Campaign received 6.6 million volumes, not all appropriate for young men. Knitting books and children’s literature, for example, were sent elsewhere or pulped. Despite complaints that hardcover books were too large and heavy to carry, books proved so popular that the Army decided to take over, establishing the Council on Books in Wartime. Its first project was publishing 50,000 copies each of 50 titles in small, lightweight paperback editions. A staff of readers made recommendations, and the council noted any that might “give aid and comfort to the enemy, conflict with the spirit of American democracy, or be offensive to any religious or racial groups, trades, or professions.” Despite these guidelines, more than 1,200 selections were sent to soldiers and Navy men, including novels (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn was a great favorite), mysteries, Westerns, adventure stories, biographies, poetry and a host of other genres. Manning includes a book list as an appendix. Many soldiers were so moved by what they read that they started a correspondence with authors; for some soldiers, the books were their first introduction to literature of any kind and inspired their enrollment in higher education, supported by the GI Bill, after the war. A fresh perspective on the trials of war and the power of books.

BOSTON GLOBE By Eric Liebetrau GLOBE CORRESPONDENT Anyone reading a book review is well aware of the power of books to affect lives on a variety of levels, but many readers may not know that during World War II, more than 120 million free books were distributed to American soldiers around the world, providing much-needed entertainment and escape from the chaos surrounding them. While researching her first book in the archives of Charles Scribner’s Sons publishing company, Molly Guptill Manning discovered the story of the Armed Services Editions, a service that delivered millions of easy-to-carry paperbacks to troops desperately seeking solace amidst the “days and weeks of transport, boredom, and fear.” In “When Books Went to War,’’ Manning unfurls the history of this unprecedented project. As is the case with most issues regarding books and the dissemination of information, the author astutely notes, librarians were among the first to take up the cause, understanding that books would be vital to the war effort, “not only . . . improving morale but easing adjustment and averting the onset of psychoneurotic breakdowns.” Raymond L. Trautman was the chief of the Library Section of the US Army, working to increase both the quantity and quality of books available for soldiers. Following in his footsteps, Althea Warren, from the Los Angeles Public Library, helped to launch the ALA’s National Book Defense Campaign, which sought to collect 10 million books in 1942. Eventually, the NBDC was renamed the Victory Book Campaign, which successfully collected books from across the country but also faced opposition from politicians who felt the country should focus on more pressing needs. Furthermore, even as the books poured in, hundreds of thousands were discarded because they weren’t suited for young soldiers — “How to Knit” and “Theology in 1870” were unlikely to gain favor among stressed, lonely soldiers. Despite setbacks and budgetary restrictions, however, the efforts of Warren and her colleagues led to the creation of the Council on Books in Wartime, a panel of publishing professionals and editors who met to determine which books were to be rated “Imperative” so available for widespread distribution to troops across the globe. With the assistance of a host of publishers, including Pocket Books, “the first American publishing company to mass-produce paperbacks,” the council developed the Armed Services Editions model, which produced smaller, more affordably manufactured paperbacks that could be tucked in a pocket or folded inside a backpack. Many books gained significant traction from this exposure, including “The Great Gatsby,” but the most popular of all proved to be Betty Smith’s “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.” The reception across the globe was unquestionably positive, as Manning’s well- incorporated firsthand testimonies demonstrate. In fact, when asked to shed weight from their packs, many soldiers chose to discard gas masks and other battlefield essentials rather than their paperbacks. Throughout the book, the author successfully interweaves quotes from the letters soldiers sent home and to their favorite writers — though she is guilty of occasional repetition and heavy- handed reminders of the importance of books to the troops’ daily lives. In one passage, a sailor expresses the sense of attachment to the books, saying, “To heave one in the garbage can is tantamount to striking your grandmother.” It’s a fitting, well-rendered sentiment, but Manning recycles the same quote later in the book. Nonetheless, aside from repetition and a potted history of Germany’s rise between the wars, especially regarding its astonishingly successful propaganda campaign and extensive burning of books, Manning is a capable writer who ably resurrects the important story of the ASE program, which ended in September 1947 with Ernie Pyle’s “Home Country.” “When Books Went to War” is not only a readable, accessible addition to World War II literature; it’s also a book that will be enjoyed by lovers of books about books.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY

When Books Went to War Did you know that during WWII, the U.S. War Department and most major New York publishers banded together to create a line of wallet-size paperbacks that could fit in a soldier’s breast or pants pocket? The initiative, which started out small, eventually grew to 120 million copies of some 1,200 titles — novels, science books, humor collections, histories, biographies, and more. It was a huge hit with the troops, for whom books were often the only source of entertainment. One soldier told A.J. Liebling, then the war correspondent for The New Yorker, ”These little books are a great thing. They take you away.” The GIs, sailors, and airmen scrapped over the most popular titles when shipments arrived at the PX. They could not get enough of the potboiler Forever Amber, likely because of the sex scenes; Rosemary Taylor’s Chicken Every Sunday, which made them nostalgic for their mothers’ home cooking; and Katherine Anne Porter’s haunting short stories, with their stark renderings of love and loss. The men peppered Betty Smith, the author of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, with some 1,500 letters a year (she answered almost all of them). And they loved The Great Gatsby so much that critics, who had more or less ignored the novel since its 1925 publication, took another look. When Books Went to War may be a slim read, but it packs a wallop. Whether or not you’re a book lover, you’ll be moved by the impeccably researched tale. Manning not only illuminates a dusty slice of WWII history that most of us know nothing about but also reminds us, in the digital era of movies and TV, just how powerfully literature once figured in people’s lives.

PUBLISHERS WEEKLY Supplying American soldiers with reading material has long been a modest priority, but nothing compares to the massive, WWII operation that sent over 140 million books to U.S. troops. Manning (The Myth of Ephraim Tutt), an attorney for the U.S. Court of Appeals, begins this delightful history of a little-known aspect of the war in 1940, with America scrambling to build an army from scratch. Officers responsible for morale noticed that post libraries showed "circulation rates so staggering that it was a wonder the print had not been wiped clean from the pages." Grassroots campaigns produced an avalanche of donations, mostly hardcovers, appropriate for libraries but hopelessly bulky for a frontline soldier. In 1942, publishers put their heads together and Manning delivers an engrossing story of the result: a compact paperback designed to fit into a soldier's pocket. This legendary Armed Services Edition became "the most significant project in publishing history." Over 1,300 titles poured overseas to an enthusiastic reception, and "there was a book for every taste, whether a man preferred Sad Sack comics or Plato." The usual Congressional diehards aside, censorship was minimal. Manning's entertaining account will have readers nostalgic for that seemingly distant era when books were high priority.