Word: pt
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...sweat suits we were issued the night we arrived.? Like the shorts and t-shirts that we both sleep in and wear underneath, the sweat suit is thin, gray and disappointingly cheap-looking.? We all feel like unemployed folks.? This impression is confirmed by the fact that despite the "PT" affixed to said threads, we have not done a lick of physical training - not a single calisthenic - since we got here...
...gonna be summer camp. PT (physical training) will still nearly kill me, and the verbal abuse just might finish the job. Smoking, by the way, is not allowed. (That's a new one for Army life, but good - getting the Camel off my back is part of what I volunteered for.) Nine weeks from now I'll be what John Candy signed up to be - a lean, mean, fighting machine - unless they've dropped that part of it too, along with the free socks. Some things never change, though: I leave the home front tear-stained, and with orders...
...perpetrator is still at large, male ?- isn?t it always? -? and so elusive that he has been described variously as a teen wearing white and, more recently, a man, curly hair, in his 40s, wearing green, possibly fatigues. His defining characteristic, at least at 10:50 a.m. (PT) Tuesday, was that he was carrying an Uzi, and using it. There are vague reports of red rental vans and explosives, but none of motive. This was a day care center, a place for children to be safe in summer when school is out and their parents? work weeks continue unrelenting...
...first choice to accomplish the family's ascent to real power was his eldest, Joe Jr. When Jack Kennedy made the papers for his exploits as skipper of PT-109, the father sent the press clippings to Joe Jr., then a 29-year-old naval air lieutenant, to provoke him into getting started on his own heroic legend. It worked all too well. In the summer of 1944, Joe Jr. volunteered to fly a plane loaded with explosives into a Nazi missile site. The plan was for him to bail out before the plane struck its target. Instead...
...attended, instead of in a large cathedral where the world could freely gawk. And one saw her fingerprints on the decision to cremate John and his two fellow passengers and spread their ashes to the waves in a U.S. Navy "commitment at sea." (As son of the captain of PT 109 ?- and the commander-in-chief ?- John was certainly entitled; the courtesy was extended to include his wife and her sister.) To the accompaniment of three rifle volleys, the ashes were cast into the water from the destroyer USS Briscoe. No gravesite. No towering mounds of flowers, no mawkish farewell...