Word: pencilers
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There was not much room in the crowded, pencil-thin 6-25 to lay the wounded man down. There was less room to mix the dried, tan-colored plasma with distilled water, to set' up the bottle and insert the rubber tube in the wounded man's arm. But Co-Pilot August Mirzaoff and Engineer R. V. Smith Jr. remembered their lessons. Slowly life began to return to Doyle's deathly-pale face. By the time the 6-25 reached a base he was much stronger, was pronounced a sure shot for recovery...
...without much hope. He did a few of the things he is used to doing nearly every day. He did them with ease. He took a box of matches out of his pocket and lit his cigaret. He used a telephone. He wrote a good hand, in pen and pencil. He handled a pack of cards. He showed the goggle-eyed boys how to do these things. He talked to them...
...foremost, we bestow upon the staff (bless'em) our fond felicitations and trust that they will carry on in the true Harvard tradition. . .May they act with caution, dignity, and continue to administer according to the dictates of their infinite wisdom. . . . To Brother Busch, a baseball bat, a pencil eraser, a bad memory, who dozen boxes of aspirin, and the latest edition of Watch-Bill Drafting Made Easy. . . . Mr. Flanigan: Bottle of Kreml, giant size. . . . Mr. Wires: a new call sign. . . . to Hopf and Peachie (the Mighty Mite): free and unrestricted access to sick bay, provided they haven't taken...
...Army itself has been, and is, quick to compliment the U.S. press on proficient guarding of military information to which the press was privy. But recently the Army has stretched the pretext of "security" to blue-pencil information critical of the Army. Item: the Army attempted to kill a statement that the invasion of New Georgia was "a bungled job," on the ground that it would give propaganda material to the enemy (who knew all about...
...Saturday the old man did what he had done for 42 years. In his book-littered office in the Winnipeg Free Press, slowly, with a stub pencil, he wrote the first draft of an editorial. After luncheon he picked up his black, battered old leather bag, stuffed it full of papers and documents, went home for a quiet weekend of reading. On Sunday, Editor John Wesley Dafoe, a great Canadian, was dead...