Word: dawn
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...will deny Kipling is his command of "color." "It made me crawl all up my backbone," says Sergeant Terence, recounting the welcome-home to Peshawar of returning troops, in Love-o'-Women-and so, too, does the reader's backbone crawl as the bagpipes scream in the dawn light and a cavalry band, "shinin' an' spic like angils," adds the rattle of its "silver kettle-dhrums" to the shrieks of the wives and the terrible notes of the Dead March, sounding gruesomely from a regiment whose colonel has been killed...
...Pandit Strikes. One morning last week, Nehru moved before dawn against the Lion of Kashmir. It was 3 a.m. A thunderstorm drenched the chalet resort of Gulmarg, where Abdullah slept. Police awakened him and read a letter from Prince Karan Singh, the nominal ruler of Kashmir. Abdullah's cabinet was dissolved; he himself was under arrest. In Srinagar, the run-down capital, 30 members of Abdullah's staff were also arrested, accused of "disruptionism," corruption, nepotism, maladministration, and intrigue with a foreign power. Indian papers hinted that Adlai Stevenson, who had visited Srinagar last May, was Abdullah...
...celebrate." A few days before the truce, marines on the western front had been engaged in a fierce fight with the Chinese. Two hundred bodies, all but a few of them Chinese, lay on East Berlin Hill and in the valley around the outpost. At the first dawn of peace, a handful of Chinese started up the slope toward Marine positions 25 yards away. Carefully the Reds wound through the debris of war: unexploded hand grenades, live mortar shells, empty machine-gun belts, smashed helmets-and the bodies. The marines let the Chinese pass a makeshift barrier, but spurned proffered...
What Next? At dawn on the third day, G.I.s donned their "flak jackets" and helmets again, moved down the scarred slopes from dozens of famous hills where U.N. soldiers had died: Heartbreak Ridge, Whitehorse Mountain, Christmas Hill, The Hook, Little Gibraltar. Somber and unsmiling, the men wondered what would happen to them next...
...very poor, and an orphan, without beaux or hope of dowry. In Madrid, in 1867, that was about as bad a fix as a girl could find herself in. So Amparo had become a slavey for her distant, stingy relatives, Rosalia and Francisco Bringas, who kept her jumping from dawn to dusk and repaid her with spoiled food and a few rare pesetas...