Word: deserting
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...antarctic's terror, the vat where much of its wrath and weather is brewed. Over this plateau sweep winds from distant seas, and here snow crystals have fallen like eider down, layer on layer, millennium on millennium. The meridians of the earth converge upon this great snow desert, closing in to pinpoint that half mystical, half mythical objective of adventurers, scientists and explorers, the South Pole. At the Pole the temperature may drop as low as 120° below zero, and there, as far as any man knows, no creature has ever survived the long antarctic winter night...
...armistice line, some 120 miles to the east. To judge by the beginnings, this may take a long time. In Jerusalem Premier David Ben-Gurion announced that "under no circumstances" would Israel agree to return the captured Gaza Strip of Palestine territory to Egypt. And in the Sinai desert, advancing Yugoslav elements of the UNEF found that the retreating Israelis had skillfully scorched the earth...
...Across desert marked by the charred and twisted remains of Nasser's routed armor, the Yugoslavs churned slowly forward in their shiny, U.S.-built trucks. Because the Israelis had sown the roadside with mines (and neglected to provide any maps), the patrols seldom made better than two or three miles a day. One burly lot of Yugoslav Communists pitched their U.S. Army pup tents beside the road over which Joseph and Mary once fled with the Christ child into Egypt, and played volleyball in the freezing gale. Beside their tents they laid white-pebble signs in the sand: "Zivio...
Withdrawal & Return. History is full of men who withdrew to the desert to learn their true mission. Hopper did the same thing unconsciously and by necessity: he took up commercial art. The advertising and publishing houses that bought his drawings of storybook characters "posturing and grimacing" were desert sands to him: ''Sometimes I'd walk around the block a couple of times before I'd go in, wanting the job for money and at the same time hoping to hell I wouldn't get the lousy thing...
...Anthony Eden is a toothy, decrepit aristocrat, his Conservative colleagues a band of feckless manikins. Vicky's Eden in the last four months has ranged from a knobby-kneed Adam, who is persuaded to bite into the forbidden fruit by a seductive French Eve, to a desert-island castaway brooding over a phonograph full of ancient hits, e.g., The Last Time I Saw Paris, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered. Last week Vicky derided Tory Leader R. A. Butler, Chancellor of the Exchequer Harold Macmillan and Foreign Minister Selwyn Lloyd as Eton-collared brats whose destructive antics are interrupted...