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Word: sodden (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...family home. "Cautiously she made her way to the summerhouse, found the door and sank to the floor, pulling the sack off her shoulders and fumbling for a match. The pale yellow bud of the flame gave her the tiny refuge, rich in cobwebs and dust. A sodden, half-rotted rug still lay across a low marble bench. Overhead the roof caved in rather drunkenly. 'But it is a roof,' Frossia said, pushed the bolt in the small door, supped off a sour milk tart and a hard-boiled egg, got a rug and some shawls...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Russia Revisited | 5/1/1944 | See Source »

Late winter frosts swept over the Eastern Front, hardened sodden roads and swamps, dusted the battlefield with snow. Red Armies pushed forward hard. Time was precious. In another three or four weeks spring would lay its warm, sticky hand upon this land...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: BATTLE OF RUSSIA: Rok Fights Again | 3/6/1944 | See Source »

That news overshadowed the Red Army's gains in southern Russia last week. But the gains were large, and they measurably hastened the day of final victory. Paced by tanks and Cossacks (see cut), Russian columns raced across the Ukraine's rain-sodden steppes and marshlands, headed west toward the borders which the Germans crossed in 1941, south toward the Crimea...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: World Battlefronts: BATTLE OF RUSSIA: The Road Leads Backward | 11/8/1943 | See Source »

Grubby Mexican peons, sodden and weary from their long annual pilgrimage to Ome Tochtli (Two Rabbit, God of Drunkenness) in Tepoxtlaá, staggered into Mexico City last week to find themselves bedeviled by cops, shrill women and crackdowns, tempted with low-taxed beer. The Mexican Government was full swing in its campaign to wean peons away from their vile national drink, pulque (pronounced pool-kay), educate them up to beer...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: THE AMERICAS: Debate in Mexico | 10/11/1943 | See Source »

...tiny, heat-sodden office building of the Cartersville (Ga.) State Prison camp sat Warden Arthur W. Clay: a stocky, tight-lipped man with hair clipped high about his ears, his white shirt open at the neck, his wash trousers hitched up above the garterless white socks...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Georgia's Middle Ages | 9/13/1943 | See Source »

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