Word: queues
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During the night, some 1,000 fans patiently queued for tickets. By morning, when tickets went on sale, the queue had swelled to 16,000, stretching for two miles. The crowd became unruly; it pushed over a couple of brick walls, trampled gardens, uprooted hedges. This frenzied performance by normally well-behaved Englishmen was directed to a single-minded purpose: getting tickets for the Chelsea-Arsenal soccer game, the semifinal climax of the Football Association Cup matches. By noon, 50,000 tickets had been sold, and scalpers were offering them for resale at eight times the 2 shillings sixpence...
Under the reign of George VI, Britons learned to queue-tediously and inevitably-for food, for fun, for clothing, for travel, for life's necessities and life's rewards. Last week they queued for George himself. No one could measure or plot precisely the serpentine columns of human beings that formed and reformed, doubled, branched and coiled back again along London's streets and across chilly Thames bridges, to get a last glimpse of the dead King's coffin as it lay in medieval Westminster Hall. But before the week was out, Londoners had taken...
...King's body lay in state at Westminster, Londoners felt a strong sense of history and a deep compulsion to share it. "I said to myself, Elsie, you put on your hat, I said, and take a bus and go up there," explained one member of the Great Queue. "I'm glad I came," said another...
Four Dukes. On Friday morning, as plain Britons jammed the curb and watched from rented windows along the way, the dignitaries lined up in another Great Queue, to escort the dead monarch to Paddington Station. Soldiers from the far reaches of his Commonwealth led the procession, followed by the Queen's Own Cameron Highlanders from Scotland, the Royal Welch Fusiliers, the Irish Guards, and detachments of the Royal Navy and Royal Marines. Britain's greatest soldiers walked with their men: Air Marshals Portal and Tedder, Field Marshals Alanbrooke, Ironside and Montgomery...
...misfortune. They are the hapless and for the most part innocent victims of man's inhumanity to man: the 875,000 Arab refugees from Palestine and their opposite numbers, 200,000 Jewish immigrants, admitted to Israel but not yet absorbed. They huddle in tents and makeshift shelters, queue for meager rations. Last week Nature added to their misery, in a howling of winds and a downpour of rain such as the Middle East hadn't seen for a quarter-century...