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...Cairo-bound Taurus Express rocked and clattered through the harsh, moonlit mountains of southern Turkey. In a latched compartment of the wagons-lits rode an elderly intriguer, Prince Barbu Stirbey of Rumania, and his elegant daughter, Princess Elise, wife of a British major. When control officers at the Levantine frontier saw the special British laissez-passer, they moved on quickly to the next compartment. Chained to Prince Stirbey's wrist as he slept that night was a small, red dispatch case containing, so it was said, Rumania's terms for quitting...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: THE BALKANS: Envoy Extraordinary | 3/27/1944 | See Source »

...Tyrrhenian Sea lay calm. Somewhere above the moonlit clouds purred Allied planes. To the east, two miles away, loomed Italy's dark shape. Landing craft churned towards Nettuno's eroded, frosted beach. Tense, eager men jumped into the icy rollers, waded ashore...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: World Battlefronts: BATTLE OF ITALY: Third Landing | 1/31/1944 | See Source »

Soldiers and airmen like bright, moonlit nights; sailors detest them. The Navy's ideal for an invasion is a dark night, with a light breeze and fair visibility. Next best is a full moon, shrouded with clouds so that just enough light filters through to maneuver ships & men. But the sailors especially hate fog; though it provides cover against the enemy, it hampers naval gunnery, endangers crowded shipping, grounds friendly airmen...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: World Battlefronts: 120 Days | 1/3/1944 | See Source »

...Trick. At sundown the regiment set off. As the soldiers trudged through a moonlit town, a civilian in a long coat gestured and jabbered something about Germans. The soldiers paid no attention. But they remembered later...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: World Battlefronts: The Shape of Hell | 9/27/1943 | See Source »

...Bastille Day the little bastille in the Caribbean fell. All next day and into the night the Martiniquais, white & black, celebrated. They skipped and danced along the moonlit, mountain-girt water front of Fort-de-France. In shrill Martinique accents they sang the Marseillaise, cheered the new High Commissioner sent by the French Committee of Liberation, Henri-Etienne Hoppenot, and cursed the departing ruler, Vichyite Admiral Georges Robert. Offshore U.S. freighters, the first in eight months, waited to unload food for the hungry islanders, fuel for autos running on 8% gasoline...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: MARTINIQUE: After Three Years | 7/26/1943 | See Source »

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