Truck driver Thomas Hamill took a job overseas to save the family farm. But his life took a nightmarish turn when he was kidnapped by insurgents. Here is his courageous story.

During his first several months in Iraq, Thomas Hamill regularly led his convoy of trucks through treacherous stretches of Iraqi highway with nicknames such as "Widow Maker" and "Sniper Alley"--dangerous asphalt corridors that were prime real estate for ambush-happy insurgents armed with caches of mortars, rocket-propelled grenades and machine guns.

During his first several months in Iraq, Thomas Hamill regularly led his convoy of trucks through treacherous stretches of Iraqi highway with nicknames such as "Widow Maker" and "Sniper Alley"--dangerous asphalt corridors that were prime real estate for ambush-happy insurgents armed with caches of mortars, rocket-propelled grenades and machine guns.

A 44-year-old dairy farmer and trucker from Macon, Miss., struggling to make ends meet for his family, Hamill was halfway through a tax-free, $75,000 annual salary as a civilian truck driver aiding military efforts in Iraq--and for once in his adversity-filled life, he was sitting pretty.

It is important to avoid making sweeping generalizations unless you have recently visited Italy, in which case you may swear under oath that every single Italian driver smokes crack. There is no other plausible explanation for the vehicular insanity that passes for driving over in that boot-shaped nation.

I took my wife, Dale, to Europe last fall to celebrate 25 years of wedded bliss, but by the time we were in the thick of Roman traffic I was wishing we had gone someplace safer, like Chernobyl. Sure, the radiation might fry your internal organs into little fast-food chicken nuggets and your hair could fall out in clumps the size of poodles, but at least you won't be run over by a Vespa that is taking a shortcut through your hotel lobby.