Word: terraine
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After laying a carpet of artillery fire to soften Vietnamese defenses, an estimated 60,000 Chinese troops advanced in a broad surge along the jagged 480-mile border. Infantry, supported by T-59 tanks, spurted through the passes of the rugged, hilly terrain, bowled over Vietnamese outposts and fanned out in a broad, coordinated advance about six miles deep. By Hanoi's own admission, the Chinese after two days had occupied eleven towns and villages and had surrounded Dong Dang with tanks and self-propelled guns...
More ominous, they could also threaten Peking's sense of security by moving along the 4,500-mile Soviet-Chinese border, which is bristling with 44 divisions of the Red Army. Soviet troops could strike into the frozen, inhospitable terrain of Sinkiang, but a more likely target is Manchuria, China's industrial heartland. Analysts hopefully discount an air attack on China's nuclear faculty at Lop Nor as a "doomsday" option, one perhaps favored by Moscow's military brass, but not by the Politburo...
...week's end, there were indications that the Chinese were encountering tougher terrain and tougher resistance than they had perhaps expected. Presumably, they had the might and numbers to penetrate as far as they chose. But could they extricate themselves from the historic quicksand with similar ease? The gravestones at Dien Bien Phu. The carcasses of Marine helicopters near Danang. Other place names, other landmarks testify to the tragic fortunes of outsiders who visited Viet Nam in the past and later wished they had never come. In meting out their "lesson," the Chinese?like the French and Americans before them?...
...preacher. APCO is offering "a fair market value" for the land, which means up to $3,000 an acre for cleared fields, $500 for woodland. Townspeople know they cannot find the equivalent near by at that price, because the Gap lies on the edge of richer and more costly terrain. But more than that, they fear the loss of a way of life, of strong family ties, if they are forced to move...
...Klan's courtesy to me was disquieting. The members were chivalrous Southern gentlemen, trying to guide me over the farm's rough terrain. They allowed me to question Grady and other Klan luminaries from nearby states. I generally got forthright, if predictable, answers. But I was always escorted by one of the squadron of clean-shaven guards, who wore military uniforms, with helmets and pistols. It took me several minutes to notice the cross that they would burn later that night; it was so large that I walked past it several times, thinking that it was a tree...