Word: trenches
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...hour later, they could piece together only part of the mystery. Mrs. Higginson had gone out to dinner the night before, leaving the children in charge of a 16-year-old Negro boy. She returned about 10:30 and dismissed the "sitter." She was found next day in the trench coat in which she entered the house. The police questioned the baby-tender and believed his story. Mrs. Higginson's broken wrist watch indicated that the attack had come, apparently from behind, at 11:15. There had been no attempt at rape, no robbery. Six special investigators went...
...American photographer, Fowler, the British photographer, Slade, the British correspondent, Talbot, and me by shouting through the windows of our two houses: "Avioni-airplanes!" Talbot and I, sharing the same room, jumped into our clothes, ran out, took a look at the skies and made for the slit trench on a bare mound some 100 yards away. No sooner had the four of us reached the shelter than bombs from 15 planes began exploding around us. Sizzling bomb fragments whizzed into the trench beside my right shoulder. About 30 more large, low-flying planes arrived and, just as Fowler...
...felt about as warlike as most Americans. In Honolulu, he made a heartbreaking tour over the death-stinking decks of ships being raised from Pearl Harbor; and when he lunched with a group of nurses, "the least composed person at the table was I." He lost his Abercrombie & Fitch trench coat, the true war correspondent's caparison, in New Caledonia. He took a kind of tourist's gander at quiet Guadalcanal, rode around uneventfully on a destroyer, slept comfortably a few nights in a Noumea hut "between sheets that had covered some well-known newspapermen," and moved...
...Italian fronts were dug in and stabilized. It was a return to trench warfare, with modern modifications-a stalemate that U.S. military professionals once vowed they would never tolerate again. Crack German resistance, plus a shortage of Allied troops, had made a mock of their vow. Life behind the fronts had settled into the jumbled, fantastic pattern...
General Bradley looked the part of an outdoorsman. His G.I. trousers were stuffed into high paratroop boots. Under his old, stained trench coat he wore an issue combat jacket. His shirt, tie and field cap with its three stars were all issue. His tall (just over six feet), lanky, comfortably sprawling figure was anything but dashing. But his dark grey eyes, flashing from under heavy black brows in a homely, bony face ranged wide, missed nothing...