FROM THE PUBLISHER

"In 1971, as American forces hastened their withdrawal from Vietnam, the U.S.-backed Saigon regime launched a bold attack into Laos, hoping to cut North Vietnam's supply line, the fabled Ho Chi Minh Trail. Three days into the risky operation called Lam Son 719, a helicopter was hit by enemy fire and exploded in a fireball, killing four top combat photographers - Larry Burrows of Life magazine, Henri Huet of the Associated Press, Kent Potter of United Press International, and Keisaburo Shimamoto of Newsweek." "The Saigon press corps and the American public were stunned, but the remoteness of the location made a recovery attempt impossible. When the war ended four years later in a communist victory, the war zone was sealed off to outsiders and the helicopter incident faded from most memories. Yet two journalists - Richard Pyle and Horst Faas, the authors of this book - never forgot their friends and colleagues who were on that helicopter." "At long last, twenty-seven years after the crash, the authors returned to Laos and joined a U.S. MIA-search team excavating the hillside where the helicopter crashed. Despite the rugged and rain-washed terrain, the team unearthed camera parts and bits of film providing eerie proof of what happened there." The narrative of Lost over Laos is framed in a period that was among the war's bloodiest for both the military and the media. It is rich with behind-the-scenes anecdotes about the Saigon press corps and illustrated with stunning work by the four combat photographers who died.

FROM THE CRITICS

Metrowest Daily News - 5/18/03

A tale of dedication and camaraderie that blends the era with the men...a front-line view through a camera lens.

Associated Press

A sad, often poignant memoir that speaks to the hold Vietnam has on virtually everyone who's been there.

Rocky Mountain News

You can't come away without having a greater appreciation for journalists who risk much to bring us the truth.

USA Today

The ending is not as conclusive as Hollywood would make it, but it fulfills a pledge Pyle made to "go to that place, walk on that mountain, taste the thick jungle heat … address any spirits that might exist and say to them, 'I am here. We are here. We have come to tell you that you are remembered, and well.' " — Bob Minzesheimer

Wargamer.com