Sometimes fiction is better for revealing truth. This novel enables Bruchac to tell much of the story of the pacific theater during WWII through the eyes of one character, now retelling the events to his grandchildren. I'm rather grateful for the framing device, it helps mute the horror somewhat. It's heartbreaking, the discrimination and abuse before the war, the horrors of the war which had to be kept secret until 1969, and the discrimination after the war. But the author manages to distill something clear and valuable and even lovely out of that.
And there is a useful bibliography and back matter explaining the genesis of the book.