Word: trooper
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...week, the very look of Ludwig Pankraz Zind, 51, betrayed his past. His slim body was ramrod-erect, a prim, Hitler-like mustache decorated his face. On his left cheek were the proud, ugly scars of old duels. After his Heidelberg student days, Zind had become a Nazi Storm Trooper, then a reserve captain in the Wehrmacht on the Russian front. Back in Offenburg after the war, he was first barred from his old teaching post by the Allies, but in 1948 he got his job back as a mathematics and biology teacher at Grimmelshausen Gymnasium (secondary school). He became...
Picket. In Ardmore, Okla., State Trooper Paul Clark was waved down by a man at the side of the road who got himself arrested when he stuck his head in the window, warned: "Hey, the highway cops are working a radar trap over the hill...
Death in Bed. Dumas père's own father was a drama in himself. Son of a French marquis and a Santo Domingo Negro woman, he rose from trooper to general in Napoleon's army in a few years. General Dumas was famed for holding the narrow Bridge of Brixen singlehanded against a whole Austrian squadron. He quarreled fiercely with Bonaparte, who put him on "the unemployed list" as soon as he had no further need of him. Broken in spirit, Grandfather Dumas died in 1806, leaving on record the parting words: "Oh! Must a general...
...Hanfstaengl, that is what we need for the movement, marvelous,' and he pranced up and down the room like a drum majorette." The "Rah, rah, rah!" refrain of Harvardmen, by Putzi's account, became the thunderous "Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!" of the Brownshirt demonstrations. Storm Trooper bands blared their goose-step rhythms with a between-halves unison. Such Nazi slogans as Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein Führer were patterned on the effective use of catch phrases in U.S. election campaigns. As Hitler's "American expert," Putzi modestly admits: "I suppose I must take my share...
...paratroopers came on, moved up the porch steps, began pushing people off. A Missouri Pacific switchman named C. E. Blake, for days one of the most vocal of the agitators around Central High ("I advocate violence"), grabbed for a rifle, pulled a paratrooper to the ground with him. Another trooper reversed his rifle, smashed its butt against Blake's head. Blake, blood streaming from a shallow scalp wound, scuttled away, shouting to newsmen and photographers as he went: "Who knows the name of that lowlife s.o.b. who hit me?" A top sergeant ordered his men: "Keep those bayonets high...