Word: paines
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Professional Duty. As everyone had foreseen, there were loud cries of pain from Germans of all political shades. In Diisseldorf, Britain's military governor General Sir Brian Robertson slapped them down: "Stop complaining. Be thankful for what you have got. The Germans must understand that Germany's record has caused other countries to be nervous about her behavior in the future." The sanest German opinion was well expressed by a Berlin businessman: "Of course the politicians must cry out in anger-that is part of their professional duty. But we need a year before we can really tell...
...arrest was made public, the Minister of the Interior summoned four of Hungary's Roman Catholic bishops who, jointly with their Primate, had staunchly held out against a government plan designed to make the Catholic clergy virtually employees of the state. The minister told the four holdouts, on pain of imprisonment, to resign. They flatly refused. Nevertheless, the Communist press trumpeted the news that Hungary's Bench of Bishops had agreed to their terms...
...second part of Hogan's equipment is nervous tension, under fine control. He believes it is something a golfer must be born with, then have tempered under pressure. Hogan's outward manifestation of it: a frozen half-grin, something like an infant's "gas smile," denoting pain inside. When the going gets tough as it did in the 1947 Jacksonville Open-he took eleven strokes on a par-three hole-the Hogan nerves hold. On the next hole at Jacksonville he got a birdie...
...Church and my country," he said. "When compared to the sufferings of my country, my own fate is unimportant ... I am not accusing my accusers. If, from time to time, I must cast a light upon conditions, it is only a revelation of my country's surging pain ... I pray for the world of justice and brotherly love; I pray for those who, in the words of my Master, know not what they are doing. I forgive them with all my heart...
...paddyfield on the village edge, stretcher bearers brought in wounded for relay to Tsaolaochi. About a dozen men in various states of shock and pain lay on the ground. Fresh bandages reeking of alcohol seemed their only care-no plasma or morphine. They suffered stoically. A battalion commander, his throat and shoulder torn by shrapnel, retched helplessly. Another man had a broken ankle bare in the chill air, propped up on a wad of straw...