Word: grimness
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Meanwhile Russian engineers hastily but with loving care dismantled a power plant in Bavaria, in the U.S. zone, which had been earmarked for Russia before reparations were suspended. Said the wrinkle-browed, grim-faced Soviet colonel who supervised the work: "You [Americans] don't understand what reparations mean. . . . To us it is an absolutely vital part of our national economy-something we must have if the Soviet people are going to get a standard of living anywhere near what they had in the middle thirties, which, God knows, was low enough. . . . Politically it makes our row harder...
Hamilton's mystery, despite its premature denouement, is properly grim and gripping, and if the actors occasionally fail to inject into the lines all their inherent terror and sombreness of mood, a competent framework is still present. Making all the necessary preliminary reservations about summer productions, they have an interesting chiller on Brattle Street this week...
Above his dark blue summer suit and white shirt his face was grey. A grim, tight-set jaw had replaced the Truman grin. Once again, he excoriated the "obstinate arrogance" of "these two men." Once again, he named them. Once again, he avowed his friendship for labor. He did not want permanent, restrictive anti-labor legislation. But he asked for the power and means to stop any strike against the nation. The Congress, its blood pressure up too, cheered, and cheered again. (But not all joined in; among the silent: Democrats Pepper, Kilgore and J. Murray; House Minority Leader Joseph...
...bodied, grim-faced men sat in their green-walled hotel suites in Washington and listened as the President rawhided them over the radio. Alexander Fell Whitney's lips were taut, his eyes were on the ceiling. He said not one word. Alvanley Johnston grunted only once, mumbling "Yes, sir," when Harry Truman held himself up as "a friend of labor...
Tall and grey, his face gaunt, his SS uniform rumpled and shorn of insignia, the condemned man last week faced his judges in the grim yard of Prague's Pankrac Prison. Ranged before him were the judge and jury who had tried him two days before. The yard was filled with spectators-some 3,000 hard-eyed Czechs. Prominent among them sat seven widows from a village once known as Lidice...