Word: misted
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...fortified attack positions ever tighter. In terms of firepower and supplies, the Communists were better prepared to strike at Khe Sanh than they ever had been at Dienbienphu. During the early days of the six-week siege, they even had the weather-low clouds, fog and mist-in their favor...
...hoary mist that has hung over productions of Chekhov spumed from Stanislavsky and the Moscow Art Theater: a distinctive technique marked by precise characterization, long pauses, distilled emotion, and tight pacing that presented the final pistol shots of an Ivanov or Seagull as the Q.E.D. of human tragedy, lucidly observed. In English-language productions, all this has been sustained by country-house diction supported by the characterological self-control necessary to maintain strong emotion over long sentences. These productions were, and are often powerful but they have two chronic diseases--boredom spawned by excessive refinement of speech and movement...
Somewhere in the commodious vaults where dwell the souls of playwrights dead and gone. Two figures, faces wreathed in mist, crouch over a chess table. After a time the vapours clear, and we see the faces of Bertolt Brecht and Henrik Ibsen. Brecht speaks first...
Engines Running. The transport pilots take enormous risks to bring supplies into Khe Sanh. The base sits in a valley that is at present enveloped almost constantly by a thick mist that will not lift until the monsoon ends in early April. Pilots must feel their way in for landings with a ceiling of less than 100 ft.-even though Air Force standards call for a minimum of 300 ft. In addition to the mist, they must make their letdown through turbulent air and a tail wind, cope with a sudden updraft before touchdown and land on a runway that...
...chill, grey mist hangs over the jungled hills around Khe Sanh and drifts down onto the base's metal run way. The morning mist often lasts into the afternoon, the bright sun of recent weeks is lost in monsoonal overcast, and the air is raw and wet with winter. The camp seems to have settled into a dull, lethargic pace to match the dull, damp weather that envelops it. In a mood of resignation, Marines go about their life-or-death work, digging into the red clay, filling sandbags, bolstering the bunkers they know are their one protection against...