Word: civilian
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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General Summerall, his soldier's pride hurt to the quick, was adamant to all civilian pleas. Not until the Citadel cadet corps, as soldier to soldier, appealed to him did he relent and withdraw his resignation...
...inauguration ceremonies had just taken place at its new offices in the old Department of Commerce building. President Charles Gates Dawes. swearing at the bright lights, and two of the three civilian directors were sworn in before a battery of cameramen. Director Jesse Jones tossed his commission gaily in the air. tried to catch it. missed. Director Wilson McCarthy, the last appointee, was still unsworn when the R. F. C. board sat down to its first formal meeting and tried to talk above the din of hammering, plastering, carpet-laying and furniture-moving...
...boardwalk, guarded by marines. On her deck had been built a penthouse, bristling with ventilators to cool the neat single cabins within. Each prisoner occupied a room comparable to that on a small liner. The food came from the officers' mess. No third-degree examinations occurred because civilian prosecutors were barred from the Alton. Flowers and messages poured in upon Mrs. Fortescue from the island and the mainland. Her daughter Thalia, staying with friends at the naval base, made her frequent visits...
...grey-haired, ruddy-faced, fiftyish man named William Howard Gardiner constitutes himself civilian watchdog of the U. S. Navy. He is president of the Navy League of the U. S., a 25-year-old organization of civilians and retired naval officers who contribute $30,000 per year to propagate the Big Navy idea from headquarters in Washington. Mr. Gardiner is pleased when his friends call him "The Admiral." Boston-born, he worked as a chemist, got into electrical engineering, became an associate partner of Utilitarian Henry Latham Doherty, made enough money to retire to a comfortable home on Manhattan...
Unimpressive in civilian clothes, "in battle he was totally different: combat had the effect of creating in him, as though he were a lamp, a strong light. He was, at once, capable of a passionate cursing and a low-voiced impressive tranquillity of confidence. 'Damn you, sir,' he said to an officer who came galloping up, crying out some bad news above the roar of battle, 'don't yell at me!' In such moments of intensity he often leaned forward over his horse's neck and spoke with the utmost softness...