Word: patton
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...father never made it to Yale, or Harvard: instead, with little money after his father's death, and the Depression a sudden force in his life (as it was to millions of thers), he went to work, then into the National Guard, then into Patton's Third Army...
...without ever seeing a Foreign Legion film. Today kids think the only thing on the other side of a sand dune is an oil well." His new role as a French connection, desert style, will surely set them straight. Says Hackman: "I'm a cross between George Patton and Charles de Gaulle with sand in his pommes frites...
...protests, for instance, that blacks "still have difficulty cracking the suburbs." Mayor Vann worries about white flight from the city; black leaders complain that Birmingham may not be able to provide jobs to match new expectations, and that housing integration is limited to the poor. Adds N.A.A.C.P. Official W.C. Patton: "This is no Utopia, but we're moving in the right direction." Patton likes the new Birmingham well enough to remain-for eternity. He recently bought eight plots in Elmwood Cemetery. Like everything else of value in Birmingham's bad old days, the graves there were once restricted...
...sees a fellow officer commit an atrocity has an obligation to report him, even if he's a friend," says Ulmer. "If you won't do that, you have no business at West Point." Over the decades, the code has helped to make West Point what George Patton Jr. called a "holy place," an institution that Maxwell Taylor describes as "something like the church; it is not for everyone, only for those with a true vocation." Agrees Berry: "The code's a statement of ideals that I think is sound. Imperfect human beings don't measure...
Richard M. Nixon, the same guy who named "Patton" as his favorite movie, named the 1812 as his favorite piece of classical music. Not surprising, given his predilection for the militaristic. Ironically, the piece was written during a lull in national spirit, and commemorates the battle in which Napoleon was defeated on the outskirts of Moscow. Traces of the Marseilles fade out, the Russian national anthem creeps in, canons go off (at Lowell, a policeman generally shoots a rifle into a garbage can)--all culminating in the peals of jubilation emanating from those vibrant bells of the Moscow churches...