Word: backgammon
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...troops last week, pointing out that those in charge of the camp had taken few or no precautions despite a general military alert. Not only did the guard at the gate leave the area when the shooting started, but many of the soldiers killed and wounded had been playing backgammon and checkers in a "clubhouse" tent when the guerrilla entered the military camp. "How did it happen," asked Army Chief of Staff Lieut. General Dan Shomron, "that one terrorist killed six soldiers and wounded seven others? We cannot live with an event like this...
...insisted on getting a private room at the best clinic in Paris, even though he didn't have any money to pay for it. Then he went to the Travellers Club on the Champs Elysees and found a rich man whom he could entice into a game of backgammon. "He finally got me out of the clinic," says Ginette Goldsmith, whom Goldsmith married four years later, "with his winnings from that game of backgammon...
...freezers and stoves, and trash compactors. The bionic boats pack every aquatic toy: water skis, snorkling gear, diving equipment, Jet Skis and sailboards. To help while away foul weather, a free-flowing bar is at the ready, and libraries are stocked with videotapes as well as books, chess and backgammon games. Many decks have saunas, and in one vessel there is a piano with built-in heating elements to guard against warp...
...bachelor often squired wealthy widows to embassy dances in the capital. "George Doole? Oh, he was a perfect gentleman," recalls one consort, Irene Evans. At the Chevy Chase Club, a Wasp bastion in a well-to-do Maryland suburb, Doole sometimes liked to while away afternoons playing bridge and backgammon. He usually won. "George? Well, he was quite a boy," chuckles a fellow clubman, retired Rear Admiral Raymond Hunter...
...seem so commonplace that one no longer takes as much notice of the gutted buildings as of the occasional glimpses of what everyday life must have been like before the bloodshed began. Along the Corniche, the broad, palm-lined boulevard that hugs the Mediterranean, dice clatter across wooden backgammon boards, as groups of men, each with one hand nervously working worry beads, cluster to watch. The clinking of delicate china cups announces the arrival of a coffee vendor proffering thick, black Turkish brew. As Sunday fishermen impatiently flick their lines, a water-skier waves from behind a small boat skimming...