Word: helmets
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...crew-pilot and copilot-gunner-have at their fingertips six missile launchers, a swiveling belly-turret with a 30-mm. automatic gun, and a nose turret armed with either a 40-mm. grenade-launcher or a six-barrel minigun that fires 6,000 rounds per minute. A special helmet linked to an infra-red light beam allows the pilot to aim his fire system by moving his head, while the gunner, using a periscopic sight, can presumably hit an object as small as a car radiator cap from 1 ± miles away...
Helicopters flew in a hot turkey dinner for the victors. One paratrooper sat down to inscribe inside his helmet: "Nov. 23rd. Hill 875 is over. Thanksgiving Day." At week's end the survivors of the battle of Hill 875 held a simple memorial service, laying out the boots of their fallen comrades on a wind-whipped slope...
Like the fund-raising inaugural ball scheduled for next week, the helmet directive was more gesture than substance, but it was the kind of gesture that had been sadly missing around city hall. A more pragmatic innovation is Stokes's plan to fully integrate police precinct squads regardless of the neighborhoods they serve. He tried to hire Edward Logue to head Cleveland's urban-renewal program, but Logue declined to leave Boston, instead will serve Stokes on a consulting basis. Meanwhile, Stokes is talent-hunting for a full-time urban-renewal director and other top officials...
...with the binoculars. The man with the rifle checked through his telescopic sight and nodded in agreement. Then both men tested the wind. About 5 m.p.h., they decided. The rifleman adjusted his sight. Slowly he stretched out into a prone firing position; he rested his rifle barrel on his helmet and sighted through the scope, allowing just enough Kentucky windage to compensate for the breeze. Then he began the gentle, steady trigger pull of the expert marksman. The exact moment of firing came as a surprise-which it often does when a good rifleman has squeezed off a proper shot...
...platoons break down into pairs: one man spots with binoculars, the other handles the rifle. Their favorite stakeouts are the edges of heavily wooded areas with a clear field of fire in front. And there they wait, hour after lonely hour, day after tiring day, camouflaged to their very helmet tops, always on the alert for the slightest distant movement...