Word: haig
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...other European allies were cheered. Most regarded the B-1 as less well suited to their defense needs than the cheaper, more flexible cruise missile, which can be launched from land-,sea-or air-based vehicles. NATO Commander Alexander Haig, for example, describes the cruise missile as an "attractive alternative" to the B-1 for the alliance's arsenal. Declared General Georges Buis, a noted French military strategist: "The B-1 is a formidable weapon, but not terribly useful. For the price of one bomber, you can have 200 cruise missiles...
...dangerous game of chicken played in the air by Moscow's reconnaissance planes, Soviet warships in mounting numbers maneuver perilously close to the Danish and Norwegian coasts. The Soviet muscle flexing near the desolate Arctic Circle worries Western military officials. Warns Supreme Allied Commander in Europe Alexander M. Haig: "If you look at the current situation of strategic parity, it is evident that we are not going to be faced in the short term with a major onslaught across the eastern frontiers. We are going to be plagued by those ambiguous situations on the flanks." Says...
...emerged from being golf's enfant terrible to Sir Walter, the liege lord of the game. Hagen was already displaying the waggish bravura that made him a gallery idol when he showed up for his first Open in 1913 at Brookline, the Crimson's home course. The Haig wore a garrish bandana tied cowboy style, a striped silk shirt, a plaid Scottish cap, and his wide laced brogans with the tongue moddishly doubled back over the instep...
...chronicled by Darwin will not come back but in Mostly Golf we at least get a vivid if all too fleeting glimpse of the pageantry and splendor that belonged to the likes of James Braid, Bobby Jones, the olive-skinned Gene Sarazen with his Cheshire Cat grin, and "the Haig" with his oriental eyelids and brilliantined hair bestriding the fairways of Muirfield. For as the Scotch have been wont to say since those colorful days of James II: they were all "grand gowfers a', nane better...
Jordan swings into his spacious office, a six-window, high-status corner formerly occupied by the likes of Bob Haldeman and Alexander Haig, but, he insists, the parallel stops there. He loosens his tie, takes a fast look at the in basket, then lopes into the Roosevelt Room for the daily 8 a.m. meeting of senior advisers. He takes his place at the big table, leaving Presidential Counsel Robert Lipshutz to preside, but Jordan's presence spills beyond his chair. He is recognized as the ascendant power...