Word: canallers
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...with $240,000 for the guerrillas. But the U.S. and Britain are trying to get along with the new rulers, and the main reason is Libyan oil. Since the '67 closure of Suez, Libyan exports have doubled because high-grade Libyan oil lies closer to Europe without the canal than most Arabian oil. Thirty-eight companies, mostly American and British, presently pump about 3.7 million barrels a day. Libya now ranks as the third largest oil exporter (after Venezuela and Iran). Since the government receives $1 on each barrel, oil accounts for 80% of Libya's national income...
...test of Soviet sincerity, Rogers suggested that the Russians might respond to forthcoming proposals by the Western allies concerning improved land and canal access to West Berlin. He also urged the Soviets to prove that they genuinely want to ease tensions by agreeing to discuss NATO's year-old suggestion for mutual troop reductions in Europe (see chart). The Soviets, however, have shown no interest in such a move. The Red Army forces in Eastern Europe accomplish two major objectives of Soviet foreign policy: they provide perimeter defense of the motherland, and they help to keep the Warsaw Pact...
Over the Suez Canal one day last week, Israeli pilots angled in to shoot up Egyptian positions in what has become an almost daily operation. When the Egyptians retaliated by sending planes across the canal, Israeli antiaircraft gunners shot down one plane and an Israeli pilot bagged another. The two represented the 59th and 60th Israeli kills of Egyptian aircraft since the Six-Day War in 1967, against claimed Israeli losses on the Egyptian front of only eight of their own planes...
...about an hour. It wasn't until two in the morning, that we'd realized that we had made a wrong turn somewhere. (Not a meta -physical statement, that.) Instead of being already half asleep on the floor of somebody's house, here we were half asleep on Canal Road, an almost-highway, surrounded by woods and leading into Maryland...
...also been lucky. Unlike most of the others, I had had my tacky bit of existential drama. It had taken place right out there on Canal Road. And now, here it was five in the morning, and I was forcing my recalcitrant body to sleep in the crowded quarters of the car's front seat. The guy with the bullhorn and Frank's white Rambler-they must serve as my moral equivalent of war. Second-rate substitutes of course, but then, you'll have to admit, these are second-rate times we are living...