Word: deserter
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...California's motorists heading east to Las Vegas, the gambling often began at San Bernardino, where a 225-mile superhighway starts across the Mojave Desert. The speed limit is 55 m.p.h., but so many drivers chanced dodging the California highway patrol that on holiday weekends an average of 450 persons ended up losers with traffic tickets...
...company to train Saudi Arabia's 26,000-man national guard. The company, the Vinnell Corp. of Alhambra, Calif, has already begun recruiting among former U.S. military veterans the 1,000 men it will need to do the three-year job in King Faisal's oil-rich desert nation. The suspicious immediately dubbed the task force "mercenaries" and wondered if Vinnell was a CIA front, and double-helix theories multiplied about what might be the real plot afoot...
Evan swung his pointer across a map board, from the Mitla through the desert to the Giddi Pass 30 miles north. "If we stay in this area," he said, "we can conduct a good defensive operation without putting the whole army in." By controlling the passes, he said, the Israelis have a 7-to-l manpower advantage over the Egyptians. The Mitla Pass outpost seemed lightly manned. Only a few squads of soldiers were camped amidst the crushed granite and sand bars. "Why don't we see any tanks or artillery?" the general was asked. He smiled. "This...
Israel's generals, at least, have worked over the monotonous rock-strewn desert since the October war as if they intended to remain, transforming the area around the passes into a powerful redoubt. In fact, reports Drooz, the Israeli government has spent $60 million on the Sinai defenses since the end of the October war. Entire battalions of armor have been buried in laagers-scooped-out shelters covered with camouflage nets. It is startling, as Israeli troops run through practice drills, to see an M48 suddenly rear into view, moving from laager to firing platform or swiveling...
After years of dutifully ministering to his flock, the Rev. Thomas Marshfield, 41, begins fleecing the ewes. When his trysts with the church organist and other assorted supplicants are exposed, Marshfield is shipped West for a month's rest to a desert spa for troubled clergymen. The regimen is ecumenical. There is golf in the afternoon, poker at night and daiquiris whenever. Mornings are spent alone at an obligatory typewriter, where orgies of therapeutic confession are the order...