Word: thunderously
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...Foul Enemy." In the Ergeni Hills the artillery awakened. That was the long awaited thunder heard by the silent men of the 13th. The cannonading kept up without break for two and a half hours, pouring destruction into the German lines, disrupting communications, softening resistance. Under its cover Russian sappers swept forward to "delouse" German minefields. Over the frozen earth rolled Russian tanks, some of them dragging artillery. Mobile cannon followed, operating in massed groups, blasting holes in German positions that had already been spotted by Russian guerrilla intelligence. Night came and there was no letup...
...Daughter Julia bought a "superb" dessert set. The W.'s dined with King Louis Philippe and the Queen ("Very superb. The King helps the soup . . . and the Queen the fish"). Then they flitted back to London where they saw a new play called Love, a Melo Drama ("The thunder storm, where her lover . . . was slightly stunned . . . was very pretty...
Maybe the phrases in London's overcrowded, smoke-fogged Caxton Hall failed to echo the thunder of Palmerston, the precision of Gladstone or the delicacy of Asquith. But the 800 delegates to the Liberal Party's annual conference last week, and the public which got it secondhand, agreed that the meanings did no dishonor to British Liberalism's revered granddaddies...
...Politician. As the Republicans' running mate for Alfred Landon in 1936, Frank Knox exhibited all his strength, and all his weaknesses. He knew from the start that his ticket was licked, but never admitted it. He set off on a 22,000-mile campaign tour full of thunder and adrenalin, never stopped castigating the New Deal, never lowered his voice below a victorious shout...
Washington reporters still remember his campaign speech at the Fair Grounds in Hagerstown, Md. The grandstand was packed, the open speaker's platform surrounded by newsmen and telegraphers. But as Knox stood up to speak, lightning flashed, thunder rattled and rain fell in streams. The public-address system went dead; telegraph lines were washed out, everybody around the platform broke for cover. All but Knox: he stuck it out in the deluge as long as he could stand it, soaked to the skin, reading doggedly through his manuscript, grinning, gesturing. Few could hear...