Word: khakies
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...before Joe left for Kansas City to attend the annual Future Farmers' convention, the Chromaster clock sounded its alarm at 4:30 a.m. in his bedroom at home. Shocked to wakefulness after eight hours of sleep, Joe swung out his bare feet and reached for the mound of khaki clothes on the linoleum floor. The shirt, clammy from three days' accumulated sweat, clung dankly to him. The pants, crusted with dirt and splotched with tractor grease, slipped on over the cotton print shorts in which he had slept. The three-hook farm shoes, their sides eaten by barnyard...
...third column proceeded down Catinat Street to the Majestic Hotel, Saigon's best, where members of the International Armistice Commission (Indian, Canadian and Polish) make their headquarters. Led by a gang of khaki-clad youngsters, refugees from North Viet Nam, armed with Tonkinese machetes, the crowd broke the closed gates of the bar and poured into the lobby like a tidal wave. Madame Geneviève Tardy, busy at the switchboard, fell bleeding under the blow of a chair...
Marshall stood firm, would not release the prisoners, and would not be tempted to violence, although the colony's 4,500 khaki-clad police kept a 24-hour vigil. Across the causeway, on mainland Johore, tough Gurkha troops waited in reserve...
...trained business executives-managers, engineers, sales agents. They are a hardworking, hard-drinking crew, and they have plenty of money to spend on oysters. Scottish salmon and French wine, served in Leo's nightclubs. The Belgians drive American cars, particularly Buicks, and wear colorful combinations of sun helmet, khaki shirt, pink shorts, bright green woolen socks and beige suede shoes. "They have two kinds of conversation," gibes an English-born resident of Leo. "One is an offer, the other a counter-offer...
...Headquarters was milling with Nationalists in khaki shorts and shirts, carrying Tommy guns. Small-arms fire was rattling from the Binh Xuyen a couple of blocks down the road, and Nationalist Tommy-gun fire rattled back at them. Next came the sullen, unmistakable, paralyzing crump of mortars, three in the courtyard outside, filling headquarters with dust and falling plaster. A deep red flame spouted out of a weapons carrier parked next to our car. Black, oily smoke drifted upwards. We could hear a staccato cry ai ai ai from someone who had been...