Five Bars to Argentina

About the Book

This is a fictional novel about two Nazi generals who devise a plot to defect to Argentina with their families at the end of World War II. They used stolen bars of gold to barter for anything that helped their cause. It starts with ten defectors and ends with three reaching the shores of Argentina. From there, the novel follows the lives of their descendents and how they fared in the New World. The persons and some places portrayed in this novel are the imagination of the author. No part of this book should be used as an historical reference.

About the Author

I enjoyed writing this fictional novel. My experiences in both Germany and South America helped me to write this. I have traveled up the Reo de la Plata from Montevideo, Uruguay, to Buenos Aires, Argentina, where Helmet died. I know a thing or two about fishing boats and flying. That thing about sleeping in an oil-smelling railroad shack—I did that too. I was a yeoman in the US Navy and a merchant seaman, where I worked in the saloon pantry. So I know a little there too. I have a daughter who plays the violin. She’s good, but not as good as Margot. Margot’s singing style was modeled after the great Nana Mouskouri, of whom I’m a great fan. About the adoption of little Angie, well, that was from my older sister, Carol, who has a daughter named Angie. Remember the twins’ magic trick? My wife and I owned a magic shop for seven years, and we had a trick like that. In 1957 I was hitchhiking from Salt lake City, Utah to Sacramento, California. I was pickup by a doctor driving a 1955 SL300 Gull-Wing Mercedes-Benz. A lot of those places I named, I have been to: Lima, Peru; Paris, France; Rudesheim, Germany; Caracas, Venezuela; Buenos Aires, Argentina; Recife, Brazil; Amsterdam, Holland; Singapore; Malaysia; Andes Mountains, and Hong Kong. I put all of that in a blender, and what came out was this book. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I know some of those names that I thought up could be delusional, but that‘s what made it fun. I hope no part of this book ever offends anyone.