Word: stretcher
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...Chief of the Imperial General Staff, commander of the ill-fated 1940 British Expeditionary Force in France and Belgium; after an operation; in London. A wearer of the Old School. Tie but a tough professional soldier, he won the Victoria Cross in World War I for directing from a stretcher an attack across the Canal du Nord near Cambrai. In World War II he led the British in one of their finest hours (the heroic retreat from Dunkirk), held Malta through the racking bombing of 1942. A soldier on the Dunkirk beach recalled the brash bravery of the B.E.F. Commander...
...World War I, a young French stretcher-bearer got to thinking about life and art. People who wage war, he reasoned, are messy inside and out, but the precise, blankly implacable machines they kill with have a brutal beauty. Ever since then, Fernand Léger (rhymes with beige hay) has been painting flat, bright-colored pictures which look as smoothly efficient, and as difficult to comprehend, as the instrument panel...
...Meegeren had been suspected of faking as far back as 1937 (a "Frans Hals," sold to a U.S. buyer, proved to have been fastened to its stretcher with modern thumbtacks). He really hit his stride when the Nazis came in; he sent the Führer a portfolio of reproductions of his work, obsequiously dedicated, and slyly passed off a phony on Goring. From the profits of his "discovered Vermeers" he moved into an Amsterdam mansion...
...beefy, bulldozing V.P.I. team. A middie tackled the bruiser who was carrying the ball for V.P.I., rolled with him across the sidelines and under the bleachers. The crowd cheered the mid die, but he did not get up: thoroughly bulldozed, Bull Halsey was carried off on a stretcher...
...examination . . . but [his commanding officer] told him to get a move on. When the lad stripped, we found he was wearing a coat of mail under his vest." ¶ Another entry in the Moran diary: "Just now a man was brought to my dugout on a stretcher. Half his hand was gone and his leg below the knee was crushed and broken. While his wounds were dressed he smoked, lighting a new cigarette from the stump of an old one. His eyes were as steady as a child's, only his lips were white. . . . My servant grinned...