I’m attempting to re-publish my book, “Aimless Life, Awesome God” using Kindle Direct and Apple Books. My only interest is to make the book available to anyone who did not have a chance to get it while it was in print. I’d appreciate some feedback from you, dear readers.

1. Is it worth the effort?
2. What is a fair price or should it be free?

Here is the first chapter of the book; I hope it makes you want to read more.

“I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the Lord.” Psalm 118:17 ESV

Chapter 1—France, March 30, 1962

I came to lying on my back in the middle of the road, looking up at the gray sky. It was still drizzling, and the pavement was wet; rivulets of water trickled off the blacktop toward the shoulder of the road. There was no pain. “Oh God, can I move? Am I paralyzed? Is anything broken?” Gingerly I wiggled my fingers and toes, moved my arms and legs a little, then slowly I sat up. “Thank you God.” Where are the guys who were riding with me in the Jeep, and are they okay?

In fall 1961, when our outfit moved into the Sidi Brahim Caserne, a former French prison camp turned U.S. Army base, my friend Tom and I took a walk around town. He’d been in France about six months longer than I had, and was an expert on all things French. As we walked by the highway department yard, Tom pointed out the white-painted road markers stacked along a wall. “If you ever hit one of those, don’t worry,” he said. “They’re hollow.”

I had been taking two men from our outfit back to base in the late afternoon on a rural road in France, somewhere between Verdun and Etain. I liked to take shortcuts, get off the main roads and find different ways to get from point A to point B. I argued with my company commander that it would be useful to know my way around in case of war. It had been raining. The last things I remembered were the stupid vacuum windshield wipers slowing down, the crappy tactical tires losing grip, a sharp curve to the left in the road ahead and a white road marker dead-on in front of me.

As I surveyed the accident scene, it was apparent that the Jeep had gone straight off the road, hit and dislodged the white road marker, sideswiped a large tree and rolled over back onto the pavement where it came to rest on its left side, the driver’s side. I also noted that my body had been laying an arm’s length from the bottom of the Jeep, between the Jeep and the tree. The Jeep had missed landing on me by about three feet. How was it possible that I had been ejected from the Jeep but not squashed like a bug when it landed on its side?

I walked around to the top side of the Jeep and found my two riders standing dazed and looking for me. I posted one guy further around the curve to warn any oncoming drivers. The other guy walked with me back to the main highway where I hoped we could flag down an army vehicle to go for help. A truck stopped, and we explained the situation. The driver said he’d send help and asked if we needed an ambulance. I said no, but my buddy took one look at the blood flowing from the back of my head and said, “Yes, we need one.”

Help arrived, and we were all taken back to the hospital at Verdun, where we were treated for minor injuries. The MP’s (military police) questioned me thoroughly and ordered a blood test to check for alcohol. It came out clean since I didn’t drink back then. We got a ride back to our barracks in Etain, arriving about midnight. I promptly went to my buddy Tom’s bunk and shook him awake. When he opened his eyes I said, “They’re not hollow.” 

That was not the only time God saved my life.