Word: flashlighted
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Connecticut-born Sergeant O'Connell writes his verse when most soldiers are asleep. In the stifling heat of a rear base in Papua, he dictates by muffled flashlight to 23-year-old Private Stephen J. Haretik of Cleveland. Sergeant O'Connell's theory: "In this war there is too much written about Zeros shot down and cruisers sunk and not enough about what soldiers think. We've glamorized, a thousand men, but after the thousandth hero the soldier isn't anything to write about; except to his intimates, nothing even to think about...
Some 2,000 church members crowded into the church. The photographers poised their flashlight bulbs. The parson's wife stepped to an oil lamp and held the mortgage contract over the chimney. In less than a minute, one of the tidiest church mortgages in the country (from a banker's viewpoint) was a crisp char of expensive ashes. The First Congregational Church of Los Angeles was free of debt, and the banks and other mortgagors owned $750,000 less of the more than $500,000,000 they now hold in U.S. church mortgages...
...around the sickroom. The orderlies were soon armed with bottles of rubbing alcohol and tins of talcum powder to give massages and dust patients' bed-sore backs. One duty for each man was to make the rounds of the dark corridors with a nurse and hold her small, blue flashlight as she checked on her patients...
Once his men were in Africa, Rommel made them as comfortable as possible. Each man got his own green bivouac tent, with a floor, and a pack containing a camp stove, solid fuel, eye lotion, mouthwash, body powder, washing sets, flashlight, billfolds. Rations included beer, coffee, tinned and fresh meat, lemons, potatoes, onions. Hospitals were never short of anything. At the rest camps in the rear there were beer gardens, brass bands, playing grounds, movies...
Outside historic Petersburg some 800 hog-dirty, dog-tired soldiers of the 1st Battalion, 8th Quartermaster Training Regiment were sleeping soundly. A soft north-northeast breeze fanned the damp air; the lonely flashlight of a patrolling officer threaded the dark Virginia night; somewhere a mongrel pup howled plaintively. Suddenly came the long, heart-chilling shriek of dive-bombers, the rattle of machine guns, the dull, stomach-curdling thud of high explosives. Over the camp rolled clouds of black, evil-smelling smoke. Up went a cry: "Gas! Gas! Gaaaasss!" Out of their tiny olive-green tents tumbled soldiers, stuffing heads into...