Hold Strong Summary, Characters and Themes

Hold Strong, co-authored by Robert Dugoni, Jeff Langholz, and Chris Crabtree, is a historical novel that captures the emotional and physical ordeal of an American soldier, Sam Carlson, during World War II.  Through alternating timelines, the book presents the contrast between pre-war small-town America and the unforgiving landscapes of the Pacific War.

It centers on Sam’s transformation from a hopeful young man in Minnesota to a battle-scarred POW fighting for survival aboard a Japanese prison ship.  Alongside his journey, the novel explores the unshakable bond between Sam and Sarah Haber, the woman he loves, and their attempt to preserve hope and identity in the face of war’s devastation.

Summary

The story begins in October 1944 with Sam Carlson among 1,800 American prisoners of war in Manila Harbor, preparing to board the Arisan Maru.  After years in brutal Japanese prison camps, the prisoners cling to rumors of a Red Cross-arranged exchange.

However, the ship bears no humanitarian markings, and the guards show no signs of leniency.  Sam conceals a small pocketknife and a class ring from his sweetheart, Sarah, knowing the risk of discovery.

His companions include Father Tom, a spiritual source of calm, and Pete Chavez, whose wit provides a thin layer of emotional defense.  The descent into the ship’s dark, suffocating hold is not only physical but emblematic of their deepening ordeal.

The narrative then shifts back to 1938 in Eagle Grove, Minnesota.  Sarah Haber, valedictorian and full of academic promise, prepares to leave for college.

She shares a tender farewell with her younger sister, Nora, and shows resolve in pursuing her education despite social pressure to settle down.  Her romantic connection with Sam Carlson is genuine but complicated.

Sam, once the son of a successful dairy farmer, has seen his family fall into financial hardship due to the Great Depression.  He supports them through odd jobs and dreams of a future with Sarah.

When he proposes marriage, she declines—not out of rejection, but because she wants to build a life on her own terms first.

In search of purpose and dignity, Sam joins the Minnesota National Guard.  Training in Brainerd introduces him to military discipline and tank operations, giving structure to his life and allowing him to support his family.

Sarah goes off to college in Mankato.  Despite physical distance, the two stay connected through letters, often laced with nostalgic references to Hollywood icons Fred and Ginger.

Sam grows in confidence, though doubts linger about how he measures up to the educated men in Sarah’s world.

A pivotal moment arises during a weekend basketball game, where Sam’s loss to John Anderson costs his unit a rare weekend pass.  The defeat stings, foreshadowing the hard lessons military life will demand.

By early 1941, their relationship is tested further as war tensions escalate.  President Roosevelt federalizes the National Guard, sending Sam’s unit to Fort Lewis and then Fort Knox.

There, Sam is promoted and tasked with greater leadership responsibilities.  He meets Pete Chavez, a quick-witted tank driver, and the two become fast friends.

They board the President Coolidge in September 1941, setting sail for the Philippines.  Just before departure, Sarah accepts Sam’s marriage proposal, but he has no chance to reply.

During a brief stop in Hawaii, Chavez enjoys a flirtation with a hula dancer, offering the men a momentary reprieve.  Upon arrival in the Philippines, they train in poor conditions near Clark Field.

Sam’s letters remain his emotional lifeline, keeping his bond with Sarah alive.

On December 8, 1941, the Japanese bomb Clark Field.  Despite warnings, American commanders have left the base exposed.

Sam is injured in the chaos but quickly resumes command, helping lead defense efforts amid burning planes and strafing runs.  The attack marks a turning point, as Sam and his men face the grim truth of war.

In the weeks that follow, his platoon is sent on a series of near-impossible rearguard missions to delay the Japanese advance.

Conditions deteriorate quickly.  The men endure starvation, disease, and relentless combat.

John Anderson, once a rival, loses an arm, symbolizing the indiscriminate toll of war.  With the fall of Bataan imminent, Sam’s men vote to continue fighting, but a colonel’s order convinces them to destroy their tanks and surrender, to protect the sick and wounded from further reprisal.

It is a devastating moral decision for Sam, who must lead while suppressing his own desire to resist.

Sam’s capture introduces a new phase of torment.  As a POW, he battles physical exhaustion, hunger, and despair.

The psychological pressure is immense, but his memories of Sarah and the promise of return sustain him.  Pete Chavez and Father Tom become essential companions in captivity.

Chavez’s humor and Father Tom’s quiet strength help preserve Sam’s humanity.  Amid beatings, disease, and back-breaking labor, their friendships form an emotional core that holds them together.

Back in the present timeline aboard the Arisan Maru, the men remain uncertain of their fate.  Hopes of repatriation are balanced against mounting evidence of deception.

The ship, overcrowded and unmarked, becomes a floating tomb.  For Sam, it also becomes a vessel for remembrance—a place where his internal journey collides with the memories of those he loved, especially Sarah.

The relationship that began in movie theaters and dance halls now survives only in memory and hope.

Sam’s endurance is rooted not in vengeance or victory but in the power of love, responsibility, and memory.  The long arc from his boyhood in Minnesota to the Arisan Maru illustrates the evolution of a man shaped by war but not defeated by it.

Sarah, too, emerges as a strong character in her own right—intelligent, principled, and devoted—her voice echoing through letters that tether Sam to the possibility of peace.

Hold Strong ultimately commemorates the quiet heroism of those who fought, waited, and hoped.  It reframes war not only through the lens of combat but through the deeply personal cost paid by those who lived through it.

With a story that crosses continents and years, the book honors both collective sacrifice and the intimate ties that help people survive history’s darkest moments.

Characters

Sam Carlson

Sam Carlson is the emotional and moral cornerstone of Hold Strong, a character whose transformation mirrors the story’s core exploration of resilience in the face of dehumanization.  Introduced as a hardworking young man from Eagle Grove, Minnesota, Sam is initially marked by frustration and unfulfilled dreams—once the promising son of a dairy farmer, the Great Depression robs him of the opportunity for college and a stable future.

His early identity is rooted in a sense of duty: to his family, his sweetheart Sarah, and to reclaiming the life he believes has been unfairly taken from him.  Enlisting in the National Guard becomes a lifeline, not only for economic survival but for emotional purpose.

His journey from a hopeful soldier to a hardened prisoner of war is one of the most wrenching arcs in the novel.  Through brutal training, the horrors of the Pacific campaign, and the atrocities of Japanese captivity, Sam evolves into a leader who is quiet, competent, and unwavering under pressure.

His emotional sustenance comes from memories and letters from Sarah, and his deep bond with fellow soldiers like Pete Chavez and Father Tom.  Even in captivity, Sam resists spiritual defeat, clinging to morality and love as anchors.

His post-war life is equally complex—honored yet burdened, free but not truly unscarred.  Sam’s internal struggle is not merely survival, but the reconciliation of his past dreams with the fractured world he now inhabits.

His decision to speak not of his heroism, but to give voice to the dead, defines his character as one of deep honor and enduring emotional intelligence.

Sarah Haber

Sarah Haber is a deeply layered character whose quiet strength and intellectual ambition challenge the gender expectations of her time.  As valedictorian in 1938, Sarah’s future is one of promise and self-determination.

She is not immune to love—her relationship with Sam is genuine and emotionally rich—but she refuses to let romance dictate the course of her life.  Her decision to delay marriage, choosing “not yet” over “no,” speaks volumes about her clarity and sense of purpose.

Even as she supports Sam from afar through her letters and references to Ginger and Fred, Sarah is also building a life of her own, eventually becoming a cryptanalyst for FRUPAC in Hawaii.  Her professional life is filled with responsibility and emotional complexity, especially when she believes her codebreaking work may have contributed to the torpedoing of the Arisan Maru.

The weight of this perceived guilt makes Sarah a mirror to Sam’s own trauma—both are survivors, albeit in different ways.  Her emotional intelligence and sense of justice are evident in how she processes loss, grapples with uncertainty, and ultimately reimagines her future.

Sarah is not a character defined by waiting or longing; rather, she is active in her grief and hope, demonstrating resilience equal to any soldier’s.  Her eventual reunion with Sam is poignant not because it restores what once was, but because it acknowledges what has changed and what must be built anew.

Her acceptance of Sam’s proposal in front of her classroom is symbolic—not just of love reclaimed, but of a new identity shaped by both memory and choice.

Pete Chavez

Pete Chavez brings levity and emotional depth to Hold Strong, acting as both comic relief and a profound symbol of endurance.  Introduced as a tank driver with a quick wit and unshakable optimism, Pete uses humor to disarm the despair that permeates the brutal world around him.

His sarcasm isn’t shallow deflection—it’s a survival mechanism that allows him to connect with others, particularly Sam, on a human level amid the dehumanization of war.  Pete is not just a sidekick or foil; he is fully realized, possessing courage, loyalty, and an unyielding spirit.

During their time in the Philippines and later as prisoners, Pete stands out as a source of emotional ballast.  Whether enamored with a hula dancer in Hawaii or cracking jokes in the hold of the Arisan Maru, he reminds both characters and readers that laughter can be an act of resistance.

His presence in Sam’s journey is invaluable—offering not just companionship but a way to retain humanity in the face of barbarism.  Pete’s ultimate fate, dying aboard the Arisan Maru, adds a tragic note to his otherwise vibrant character.

He does not survive, but his memory endures through Sam’s storytelling, affirming that even amid suffering, joy and connection matter.  Pete’s legacy is one of spirited resilience—he lived loudly and loved well, and in doing so, helped others hold strong.

Father Tom Scecina

Father Tom Scecina functions as the spiritual and emotional conscience of the novel.  A calm, reflective presence, he serves as both priest and moral guide to the men in captivity.

Unlike the overt heroism of soldiers or the sardonic resilience of characters like Pete, Father Tom’s strength lies in his quiet faith and the way he anchors those around him with compassion.  In the filth and cruelty of prison camps and aboard the Arisan Maru, Father Tom provides not just religious comfort but emotional solace—an alternative form of strength that doesn’t rely on violence or bravado.

He is a counterweight to despair, his presence reinforcing the idea that faith—whether in God, humanity, or simple decency—can persist in the darkest circumstances.  To Sam, Father Tom is more than a chaplain; he is a symbol of integrity and peace.

The loss of Father Tom aboard the Arisan Maru marks a devastating blow to Sam, both emotionally and spiritually.  Yet even in death, Father Tom’s influence continues to guide Sam’s decisions, particularly his mission to remember and honor the dead.

His role in the narrative is essential in affirming that spiritual resistance is as vital as physical endurance in surviving trauma.  Father Tom is not just a man of God but a man of conscience, and through his quiet courage, he leaves an indelible mark on everyone he touches.

John Anderson

John Anderson begins the story as a foil to Sam—boisterous, competitive, and at times unscrupulous.  His early interaction with Sam, particularly the basketball match where he uses dirty tactics to win, paints him as a character driven by ego and bravado.

Yet as the war progresses and the horrors mount, John’s transformation reveals a more vulnerable, human side.  The loss of his arm in combat strips away the performative toughness and leaves a man struggling with helplessness and shame.

His physical injury parallels the emotional injuries many characters endure, and in this, John becomes more sympathetic.  He stops being merely a rival and becomes part of the collective brotherhood of survivors—each broken in their own way.

His relationship with Sam subtly shifts from antagonism to mutual understanding.  Though not a central character in the narrative’s emotional arc, John’s trajectory serves to illustrate the war’s capacity to alter even the most confident men, showing how pride can be shattered, but also how dignity can emerge from pain.

He is a reminder that masculinity in war is not about dominance but about adaptation and humility.

Captain Bill Russell

Captain Bill Russell is a minor but telling character, representing the possibility of an alternate future for Sarah.  His letter of affection and offer of love during Sarah’s grieving period for Sam’s presumed death introduces the idea of moving on—not out of weakness, but out of emotional necessity.

Bill is not cast as a villain or obstacle, but rather as a decent man offering care and companionship.  That Sarah declines his offer is not a rejection of what he represents, but a choice to hold space for love that was never truly extinguished.

Bill’s role is subtle but meaningful; he reflects the quiet, difficult decisions individuals must make in wartime—about love, loyalty, and the life that continues despite grief.  His presence sharpens Sarah’s inner conflict and underscores the novel’s recurring theme: that love, when deeply rooted, does not easily yield to time or trauma.

Themes

War’s Dehumanization and the Moral Strain of Survival

The portrayal of Sam Carlson’s descent from hopeful enlistee to a hardened prisoner of war vividly conveys the relentless process through which war strips individuals of identity, agency, and dignity.  The physical suffering endured in Japanese prison camps—emaciation, starvation, injury—is only one layer of torment.

Far more profound is the emotional toll of watching friends die slowly, enduring humiliation, and grappling with ethical dilemmas where any choice results in loss.  The destruction of Sam’s tanks under direct order, though tactically necessary, represents a psychological breaking point; it’s the moment where tangible resistance gives way to helplessness.

Through characters like Father Tom and Pete Chavez, the narrative highlights the diverse ways men cope with war’s horrors: one through faith, the other through humor.  Yet both are eventually swallowed by the same brutal machinery that consumes the others.

Sam’s role as platoon leader forces him to constantly weigh personal morals against military directives, particularly as he tries to protect the wounded and maintain a semblance of humanity amidst inhumanity.  Captivity after surrender does not bring relief but further degradation.

By depicting the sinking of the Arisan Maru—not as a tragic accident but as a cruel irony where hope was momentarily kindled—the book underscores how war mocks the very concept of rescue.  The psychological residue of these experiences lingers long after Sam’s physical escape, making survival not a triumph but a burden of memory and guilt.

The Endurance and Transformation of Love

The bond between Sam and Sarah stands as the emotional backbone of Hold Strong, but it is never portrayed as immune to time, war, and change.  Their youthful love, sweet and filled with dreams of Ginger and Fred-style futures, gradually evolves into something more complex and painful.

Sarah’s insistence on waiting—on not accepting Sam’s proposal until they are ready—shows an early maturity and realism that foreshadows how deeply their relationship will be tested.  Through years of distance, uncertainty, and trauma, their connection is preserved not through shared experiences but through faith in each other and the words exchanged in letters.

Yet, when they are finally reunited after the war, it becomes clear that survival has transformed them both.  Sam is no longer the idealistic boy who once proposed marriage in a theater; he is a man who has witnessed the worst of humanity.

Sarah, once defined by her academic ambition and youthful hope, carries the burden of having survived on the home front, plagued by guilt, grief, and the knowledge of what was lost.  Their reunion is not an easy reconciliation but a mutual acknowledgment that the people they were before the war are gone.

What remains is a hard-earned trust and love grounded in acceptance of change.  Their final decision to reimagine the future together—rather than return to what once was—gives the theme of love a quiet but powerful sense of triumph, not in romance fulfilled, but in connection reclaimed.

The Quiet Heroism of Duty and Sacrifice

Duty in Hold Strong is neither glamorous nor rewarded in conventional ways.  Instead, it is portrayed as a quiet, often thankless commitment to others—family, comrades, country—that costs the individual greatly.

Sam’s initial enlistment is motivated less by patriotism than by necessity, a way to earn income, gain purpose, and hold onto his pride in a world that has taken much from him.  But as the story progresses, duty becomes something more enduring and burdensome.

Leading a platoon through jungle warfare, starvation, and finally surrender, Sam embodies a form of heroism that does not shout or seek recognition.  His refusal to abandon the sick and wounded, his decision to comply with a “Blast” order to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, and his efforts to protect morale among fellow soldiers show a man guided by moral clarity even in chaos.

His later refusal to bask in the fame of his survival—choosing instead to speak for the dead, not himself—cements the idea that true sacrifice is often unseen.  Sarah’s own sense of duty mirrors this in a quieter way.

As a cryptanalyst, her behind-the-scenes intelligence work affects the war’s course but leaves her haunted.  Her internal struggle after the sinking of the Arisan Maru, her choice to return to work despite heartbreak, and her inability to accept an easy life with another suitor reflect a deep moral responsibility.

Both characters demonstrate that real sacrifice is not about dying for a cause but living with the weight of what duty demands.

Identity, Change, and the Search for Meaning After Trauma

By the time Sam returns to Eagle Grove, he is no longer defined by the dreams he once had—owning a farm, marrying his sweetheart, living a quiet Midwestern life.  War has not only scarred him physically and emotionally but fundamentally changed his sense of self.

He can no longer return to a life shaped by innocence.  Instead, he wrestles with who he has become—a survivor, a soldier, a witness to unbearable loss.

The book explores how identity is not static but continually reshaped by experience.  Sarah too has undergone a metamorphosis.

Her once-clear goals of academic achievement and personal independence have been reframed by her wartime service and the emotional trauma of believing Sam to be dead.  When they reunite, it’s not a matter of picking up where they left off; it’s a process of discovering whether the people they have become can still find a path together.

The theme reaches its culmination when Sam decides to speak on behalf of the dead rather than bask in his personal story, and when Sarah returns to her teaching post, recommitting to a different kind of purpose.  Their final engagement is not just a romantic resolution but a symbolic moment where they actively choose to define themselves anew—not by the war or their former dreams, but by a shared, evolving vision of the future.

This reimagining of self is the story’s most hopeful gesture, showing that meaning can be rebuilt even after everything else is lost.

Hope as Resistance and the Power of Memory

Throughout Hold Strong, hope is not a passive emotion but a deliberate act of resistance against despair.  For Sam and his fellow POWs, hope takes many forms: the rumor of a prisoner exchange, the memory of home, the symbolic preservation of small objects like a class ring or a pocketknife.

These fragments of normalcy become lifelines in a world otherwise defined by death and dehumanization.  Similarly, Father Tom offers spiritual hope, a belief in something greater than the immediate suffering, while Chavez provides the comic hope of survival through irreverence.

For Sarah, hope means continuing to live, work, and wait—even when every piece of evidence suggests she may never see Sam again.  Her return to Eagle Grove, her refusal to commit to another man, and her emotional paralysis all stem from a hope she doesn’t dare speak aloud but refuses to abandon.

The eventual reunion between Sam and Sarah is not just a narrative resolution but a testament to the endurance of hope when all rational evidence advises surrender.  Moreover, Sam’s decision to share the stories of those who died aboard the Arisan Maru reinforces how memory, too, becomes an act of hope—an insistence that the lost are not forgotten, that their lives held meaning.

In this way, memory and hope are linked as tools of survival and restoration.  They allow the living to carry forward the truth, to heal through storytelling, and to affirm that even in the darkest chapters of history, humanity can persist.