Word: desertion
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...black night heat, brilliant tungsten lamps spotlighted ranks of Abrams tanks, Bradley Fighting Vehicles and Humvees lining the draw yard at Camp Doha, as the first of 3,500 jet-lagged soldiers from Texas slung their gear aboard and revved the engines for the long drive into the desert. They were on a "combat time line," moving straight into battle position as if Saddam Hussein's Republican Guard troops were really advancing. "We are here to send a signal, and that signal is 'We are ready,'" said Colonel Robert C. Pollard. With its buildup in Kuwait last week...
That case was intuitively apparent in Kuwait, where hundreds of stagnant black lakes of wasted crude oil still cover miles of desert, bearing permanent witness to the threat from Iraq. Kuwait's government, says a Western official, "always asks why the U.S. can't do more against Saddam--though they know the policy the U.S. is pursuing is the only practical...
There the Desert Storm coalition dispatched U.S., British and French air power to set up a virtually autonomous enclave for the Kurds, theirs to govern, by and large, themselves. For a couple of years it worked: the Kurds held their first ever democratic elections and set up a parliament in their nominative capital of Erbil. But just as predictably, it all fell apart when the old internecine feuds resumed...
...criminal are natural enemies. Keats believes Moses put a bullet in his head; Moses thinks Keats betrayed him for the sake of a cheap bust. But as they drive around the desert, dodging machine-gun fire and stepping into plotholes of delirious implausibility, the two men get into tough-guy bonding at its wettest. Moses has no girlfriend, and Keats' has an ulterior agenda. After a while the standard gross-out talk of action movies--the gay-baiting gags and threats of fellatio--makes for an odd subtext. All these swaggering men who say they hate each other are really...
Even without Gaddafi's largesse, Farrakhan has a good deal of familiarity with the life-styles of the rich and famous. He has big houses in Chicago's Hyde Park and the Arizona desert, a chauffeur-driven Mercedes-Benz and a killer wardrobe. And if his ego ever needs a boost, there are plenty of sycophants around to give in to his demands. Two weeks ago, several hundred of my fellow members of the National Association of Black Journalists meekly permitted Farrakhan's Fruit of Islam to frisk them before they entered the hall where he was speaking--an indignity...