Word: hotbox
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...cylinder with a fan blowing dry air into it, past an outside battery of electric grids. The human guinea pig is wheeled in, reclining in a canvas chair and festooned with electric thermometers. The first experiments were rather cautious; then Taylor and his staff increased the temperature in the hotbox until it passed the boiling point of water (212° F). The victims came out uncooked and not permanently damaged...
...test was passed triumphantly by the professor himself. With hands, feet and neck specially protected, he was wheeled into the hotbox when its temperature stood at 230°. He stayed inside for 15½ minutes while the heat climbed to 262°. His face turned lobster-red when the hot air hit it, but that was about the only abnormal effect the heat had on the professor...
...Smoke from the hotbox eddied beneath the locomotive. The Great Northern's west bound Empire Builder, pounding hard for lost time in North Dakota's bronzed wheat lands, ground to an emergency stop just beyond Michigan City. A few miles back, the Empire Builder's second section was coming in out of the east. A flagman ran the few hundred yards back to Michigan City to flag it, but he never made it. Section 2 hit the Michigan City curve with its exhaust drumming, plowed slam-bang into Section...
...about the unit number, base and other matters. The commandant follows up by threatening to shoot Captain Spencer unless the surprised sergeant spills some more. The sergeant spills. In another part of the camp, another sergeant is getting the reverse treatment: after a scary but harmless session in a hotbox cell, he is lured into blabbing by kindness and good food. Soon the commandant knows the bomber unit's specialty, range, materiel, and the fact that it plans a major raid within 24 hours...
Reporters come in fresh from planes and landing craft, the dust of Normandy still on them. As they sit down at a typewriter, you notice that they look more healthy than the people who have worked in this hotbox since Dday. . . . There are no filing cabinets down here, no desks, just a long table ringed with typewriters. There aren't enough chairs. It's a triumph of cooperation between the American networks that no man has yet been forced to write his copy standing...