Word: tankful
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...missions behind the Iron Curtain. Schwirkmann's work load was understandably heavy in Moscow, where this year the U.S. embassy alone discovered 40 hidden Russian microphones. Schwirkmann ferreted out a covey of bugs in the West German embassy. He also designed the mission's bugproof "tank," a compartment big enough for a handful of embassy officials to sit down in and discuss business without fear of Soviet prying. Most infuriating of all to his faceless opponents, Schwirkmann devised a technique for discouraging would-be wiretappers with a smart electric shock...
...without a tremor to the skies, made a landing the pilot's mother called "soft as a marshmallow," and was welcomed to earth by a drum-and-bugle corps that sounded a fast fanfare. Gregory fidgeted; a bystander, he said, had fiddled with the plane's gasoline tank cap, but "there was nothing to worry about, I probably only lost two or three gallons...
Humble Oil is pushing its gasoline sales with pictures of a huge tiger and the advice: "Put a tiger in your tank." U.S. Rubber is using a tiger to stress the clawlike grip of its tires. Revlon is backstopping its pitch for an antidandruff preparation with a feline-voiced gal, lounging on a stuffed tiger, who makes every man sit through the commercial by crooning: "I want a word with all you tigers-you men know which ones you are." Kellogg's tigers are puffing vim into breakfast food on the fronts of cereal boxes. Williamson-Dickie Manufacturing...
...budgets of the major NATO powers have increased by about 45% since 1959, but few nations maintain defense establishments large enough to match their ability to produce arms. Result: A fiercely competitive battle for contracts, and the possibility of financial disaster for a company if its new plane or tank fails to win enough customers...
...wintry mornings, when the sun burns off the pearl and filthy mist, Fuji still soars beyond the freeway. And every week a dozen tank cars rumble through the pine grove of the Imperial Palace, hosing dust and soot from the drooping needles. The harbor itself, and the once limpid Sumida River where warrior-poets repaired, are now thick with wastes-both human and industrial. Yet there is scarcely a resident of Tokyo who could not compose a stately, sympathetic waka in the shade of his humble eaves...