Word: tims
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...last ditch of defense, the one on which London relied most heavily by night, was anti-aircraft fire. The organizer of London's anti-aircraft defenses is Lieut. General Sir Frederick Alfred ("Tim") Pile, a short, dapper, witty, sporty Irishman who can speak Persian and Hindustani. He won the D. S. O. in 1918 for outstanding artillery work near Arras, a decade later helped devise Britain's first practical light tank. His personnel is an entirely civilian group from territorial regiments...
Last week Tim Pile was told that his men must bear a heavier burden of defense. One night air-raid wardens circulated through their districts, saying: "There'll be a hell of a racket tonight, but don't worry, it's something our boys are putting up." When the enemy came over, the noise broke out, like dozens of summer storms. It was Tim Pile's new tactic. Instead of trying to hold enemy planes in the long fingers of searchlights and aiming at them, AA defenses set up a box barrage, all the guns firing...
...Arthur Dietrich, brother of Dr. Goebbels' right-hand man and press chief. Officially listed as Press Attaché to the German Legation, he employs a large staff of writers, translators and agents, operates his own printing plant, subsidizes Mexican papers, sponsors magazines such as the blatantly pro-Nazi Timón, and finances local Nazi organizations such as the Vanguardia Nacional. A number of smooth young Nazis arrived from the U. S. and Latin America to augment his staff; secret radio stations operated by his experts blot out American broadcasts and fill the ether with Nazi propaganda; reports...
...LADY WEPT ALONE-Carolyn Byrd Dawson-Crime Club ($2). Miss Matilda Brockett, the Grand Old Lady of the whole town, and Sheriff Tim Hammond untangle the jams into which Jay Halliday's shooting plunges his wife, exwife, Andy the ex-wife's suitor...
Last week both teams were a little rusty and out of practice. When they did hit the ball, it rolled a few feet and stopped. Tim Holt, normally a two-goal player, hit nothing all afternoon. Charles Farrell raced around on Mazeppa-maned ponies. Nobody scored until the fifth period. The most frequent sounds from the grandstand were groans. Then Big Boy Williams got mad because Walter Wanger kept hooking his mallet. Aidan Roark, who hadn't played all winter, got tired of the monotony. The two dueled for the ball. In the melee, Charles Farrell romped by, whanged...