Word: rottener
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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When Brevet Major Thayer was named Superintendent of West Point in 1817, the 15 -year-old Academy was rotten with nepotism, sycophancy, bad teaching, worse discipline. When Thayer arrived, all the faculty was under arrest, and shambling, dictatorial Captain Alden ("Old Pewter") Partridge was holding the post singlehanded...
Snigeroff's Nose. Drunkenness was regarded as an affliction rather than a misdemeanor. Nobody except Helen minded the endless consumption of a beverage brewed by "tossing sugar, flour and yeast-and sometimes a handful of rice or half-rotten fruit-into a dirty butter barrel" filled with water and allowing the mess to "make" for four days. "Don't be silly," said Thornie, dismissing Helen's alarm at the battle royal which invariably accompanied this wassail. "The boys are just having a good time. Just like kids. . .They really enjoy...
...long time though, the men continue to look and feel like duds. At a tea given by an R.A.F. pilot's mother-in-law, they crab interminably about their rotten treatment; and the gently experienced old lady replies, "O dear, it's a shame, isn't it? Who'll have another chocolate biscuit?" But it is in their worst failure that the men learn their best lesson. Deliberately "getting killed'' in order to loaf through a sham-battle, they already are soldiers enough to be ashamed...
...living lay side by side with the dead, their shriveled limbs and shrunken features making them almost indistinguishable. Women tore away their clothing and scratched the hordes of lice which fed on their emaciated bodies; rotten with dysentery, they relieved themselves where they lay and the stench was appalling. Naked bodies with gaping wounds in their backs and chests showed where those who still had the strength to use a knife had cut out the kidneys, livers and hearts of their fellow men and eaten them that they themselves might live...
...distiller and amateur horseman, famed for his loud check suits, curly-brimmed hats, perennial mauve carnation boutonnieres (two a day, four on Sundays, 39,000 in 47 years); in his partially blitzed London home. He loudly deplored the modern hatless, sweatered riders seen on Hyde Park's swank Rotten Row bridle path ("Hottentots!"), once launched a short-lived campaign to endow lectures on riding etiquette...