Word: bou
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...corpse of yet another Moslem who had died unattended during the preceding night. At Telagh, in Oran military district, the wrists of several prisoners still bore the marks of ropes used to hang them from the ceiling during interrogations. And at the small (152 men) camp of Bou-Gobrine, so many prisoners had been killed "while attempting to escape," that the inspectors dryly suggested that "this question would appear to deserve closer study...
Algiers, Bōne, Oran and the villages on the oil route to Hassi Messaoud are booming. From Algiers to Bordj-bou-Arréridj (a town in an area where the rebels are still active), the highway thunders with big trucks carrying pipeline equipment. A year ago, from Palestro onward-the rebel zone-the same road was almost deserted. The astonishing thing now is that mingling with the steady stream of trucks are families, both European and Moslem, in private cars, ignoring the charred remains of a car by the roadside and taking in stride the signs warning motorists...
Usually the tempo of violence increases just before a U.N. session, as the Algeri ans try to show how powerful they still are and the French try to show how effectively they are ''pacifying" the rebels. In the Massif of Bou Zegza, 40 miles southeast of Algiers, last week French troops saw a body of men in French uniforms and steel helmets approaching. As they drew near, the rebels in French clothing opened up with machine guns and grenades, killing 21 French, wounding 20 others. Angrily the French trotted up artillery, aircraft and no less than five generals...
...native Flemish and faithful reader . . . warmly congratulates you on your most interesting article about Flanders. It was both instructive and in excellent taste. A special tribute goes to Monsieur Pierre Bou lat, TIME'S photographer, for his magnificent work...
...marriage of Porter and Katherine Moresby was obviously a flop and their North African jaunt was bringing out the worst in it. In the little Arab town of Bou Noura, they lay on a hotel bed fully clothed, getting drunk on a bottle of Scotch. A mosquito netting kept off the vicious flies, and as they talked, the star-studded African twilight fell and native drums kept up an insistent rhythm. Being wealthy and intense young New York intellectuals, Kit and Port Moresby glibly fell into lingo so appropriate that Noel Coward might have written...