Word: armored
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Captain Chris Johnson is ready to roll. He is sitting in his armored humvee at the gate of a U.S. military compound in Baghdad, preparing to head out onto Haifa Street, a haven for insurgents and one of the most dangerous districts in Baghdad. Johnson isn't fully certain where he's heading, so he reaches for a handheld radio slung from his body armor and clicks the hand mike. "Colonel, is everybody going to Gator Base?" A voice crackles back: "Yes." It's a routine exchange, save for one thing: the voice of Johnson's convoy commander belongs...
Although it has one-third more manpower than NATO, and twice as much armor and artillery, the pact is evidently under considerable strain. When the signatory nations met last April in Warsaw to formally renew the alliance for 20 more years, Nicolae Ceausescu of Rumania let it be known that he favored an extension of only five years. Many East Europeans view the 535,000 uniformed Soviet soldiers stationed in their countries as an army of occupation. That impression is reinforced by the ultimate control exercised by Soviet officers during military maneuvers, which are conducted four times a year...
...horseback, the warlord had to stand out from the anonymous mass of his footsloggers, archers and pikemen. In full rig, cased like a land crab in the formal armor that was designed to protect him against sword cuts and even the slow-flying lead balls of a matchlock, he was a sight: the armor consisted of hundreds of lacquered leather platelets, like fish scales, bound together with silk cord. But his mask, finial, badge and troops' standard, all in one, was the helmet, on whose design much fantasy and theatrical cunning were expended. Because they were an inviting target...
...Likewise, the clam is peaceable to us; but when one sees the magnificent 17th century helmet in this show, with the two halves of a clam shell in black lacquered leather rising from the crest like the wings of the Angel of Death, its power as an image of armor is undeniable...
...least part of the morning's display. A visitor is struck more by his determined spirit. Ronald Reagan is marching on. Cancer has been found and excised, and he believes in mind and heart that he has been cleansed of the disease. There is no crack in the armor. At no time in 34 minutes of conversation does a shadow cross his eyes. The words mortality and cancer come quietly and without theatrics...