Word: sodded
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Although their diction ranges from the heavily eloquent ("What is the Badge of Courage? /It's sweat and blood and tears," and "Our toll is written in history's scroll / In bright, bright lines of red.") to the quasilyrical ("Lay the green sod oe'r me"), Sadler's words are united by the common theme of self-congratulation. Sometimes they approach the sickness of Teen Angel as in Trooper's Lament where, "As he fell through the night, / His 'chute all in flames, / A smile on his lips, / He cried out his girl's name," but generally these songs...
...storyteller; of a heart attack; in Dublin. The son of a Cork laborer, O'Connor got a schooling of sorts in the Irish Republican Army and Dublin jails during the '20s, before turning out tiis wry, dry tales of family life, fisticuffs and "coorting" on the old sod, honing a comic sense of Irish blather and illogic, which once led him to confess that like the I.R.A.'s "make-believe revolution, I had to content myself with a make-believe education, and the curious thing is that it was the make-believe that succeeded...
Died. Mari Susette Sandoz, 68, folklorist of the U.S. Great Plains; of cancer; in Manhattan. Though she lived and wrote in Greenwich Village for the past 20 years, Mari Sandoz knew much of the Plains firsthand, as a Nebraska sod-buster's daughter in the 1900s who had "seen the settler-cattlemen fights" and been wounded twice herself. In later years, she was forever "tearing around on horseback and climbing the Pecos," digging behind legends of Indian wars, gamblers and lawmen for the tales she wove into a score of chronicles (Old Jules, Slogum House) whose gritty realism never...
...weeks, advance troops of the newest U.S. unit to arrive in Viet Nam had been secretly at work on a clearing just north of An Khe on Route 19, deep in the Viet Cong-infested highlands. Using only machetes to clear the copse so as to keep the sod in place, the Americans hacked out a gigantic 3,000-ft. by 4,000-ft. helipad, a 4,000-ft. runway, and bivouac space for no fewer than...
...aground on the reef in front of the house. Every few days, Brigitte would wearily telephone Saint-Tropez Rescue Captain Jean Des-pas: "Another boat is on the rocks. Would you please come pull it off?" Boston's salty Richard Cardinal Gushing, 69, rumbled back to the auld sod for an eleven-day visit, cocked his cardinal's hat and began peppering the Irish countryside with foine, unclerical prose. "I was nearly going to be a Jesuit," he reported, "but on the night before I was to join the novitiate, I quit. The Jesuits have been thanking...