Word: balding
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...bugles sound, and suicide squads blast through the wire. Two Communist divisions, some 10,000 strong, launch a "human sea" attack against both strongpoints. It is the first big attack since bloody "Phase One" of 17 days before. Objective: Bald Head Hill, 200 ft. high in the southeast strongpoint, commanding all other French positions...
...divisions crack the northeast strongpoint, overrun three of its five or six outposts. Then the Communists take Bald Head. At 2200, French Commanding Colonel Christian de Castries calls for air support. Privateers, B-26s, Bearcats, even DC-3 transports sprinkle high explosive and napalm into Red infantry support zones, but the enemy holds its gains. French HQ later admits: "The first news...
...Plus-One: An elite Moroccan battalion counterattacks on Bald Head. It is close-quarter battle with light machine guns, rifles, knives, grenades and crude bamboo spears. Six times the hill changes hands. At 0700, French 19-ton tanks and flamethrower squads sear the Communists out. The Moroccans count 300 Communist dead on just one segment of their broken wire. De Castries radios HQ: "I am still master of the situation...
...Plus-Two: Just after midnight, the Communists surge again towards Bald Head, marked by a single lightning-blasted tree-stump etched against the flarelight. The Moroccans repel them, and quiet comes. For almost eleven hours the tired armies get a rest. Early afternoon, the Communists slam in heavy strength against Bald Head, and edge the Moroccans off the crest. But De Castries is still confident. "Le moral de mes hommes est formidable," he says on the radio to HQ. "If you see my wife," adds De Castries coolly, "give her a kiss from...
Late at night in the House of Commons, when the freshness has gone from the air, and the lights shine dully on bald pates, weariness creeps into the usually keen blue eyes of the man sitting alone on the government front bench. His blue suit crumples. The thinning blond hair is no longer so carefully brushed across the balding scalp, and every now & then he coughs chestily. He fidgets. His left hand rubs slowly over his cheeks, reaches for a handkerchief to wipe his plumpish fate. Or his right forefinger goes round and upward to scratch...