Word: wet
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...rumble of tanks. Last week, as the four-month-old civilian government of Premier Phan Huy Quat turned power back to the military, the only signs of crisis were the gleaming limousines of the generals and a slight increase in the number of marines patrolling Saigon's rain-wet streets. Even when the turnover was finally effected, little had changed on the surface; both Quat and his antagonist, Chief of State Phan Khac Suu, remained in office as "caretakers" for the generals...
Yesterday the 25th reunion activities got off to a very wet start. While nearly everyone showed up for the announced "Salem Historic Tour" despite the rain, the spirit of many of the day's planned features--including a tour of the North Shore Gardens--was dampened by the weather. According to one of the undergraduates who helped with activities at the Essex Country Club, "the rain ruined everything, everyone stayed...
...rain-fed foliage in the jungles and swamps provides better concealment for the Red guerrillas, while battle-weary government troops are compelled to slog through waist-deep mud. To both sides the monsoon brings misery: boots and web belts rot, weapons rust even under oilcloth, leeches drop from wet branches, and a thin green slime covers everything...
...barrage from mortars, recoilless rifles and howitzers thundered against the Bagia redoubt. Reports from a detachment of montagnard mercenaries, who bravely scouted the area on bicycles, showed that the Viet Cong were less than a mile from the town. In the dark before dawn, monsoon clouds hung wet and heavy over Quangngai, but there was just enough room for a flight of C-123 "flareships" to sweep in under the ceiling and illuminate the area. They were followed by F-100 Super Sabres, Skyraiders and helicopters, which lashed the perimeter with rockets, napalm, and cannon fire. Nonetheless, 500 government troops...
...Benny's wife just gone to work as a maid? Small world. New York, just full of coincidence. Small book, this lurid first novel, which overworks coincidence, seduction and dialect ("What-chou all want?") to prove that sex is the squeegee of tension, "the instrument that wipes the wet dirt from the window." Asks a middle-aged woman in a symbolic parlor scene, "Don't we all get just a little squeegeed?" Anyone who pays $4.95 for this book is bound to agree...