Word: wounded
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...comrades' understanding at the time that bin Laden had ordered the attacks and that additional attacks would follow." That didn't seem to bother Lindh, who continued fighting with the Taliban for weeks, until U.S. bombs forced him and many Taliban to surrender. He eventually wound up at the Qala-i-Jangi prison compound, where CIA officer Johnny Spann tried to get him to talk; shortly afterward, prisoners rioted, killing Spann. Lindh was shot in the leg during the melee, but whether he was involved in the uprising is unclear...
...died in bat-tle are honored. With a number of war criminals enshrined there as well, it is the most infamous symbol of Japanese militarism. Koreans were outraged when Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi paid his respects at the shrine last August, but this place is a raw wound for Koreans for another reason, too. Tucked away in a remote corner of the grounds, behind a heavy, locked iron gate, is a simple tombstone-shaped tablet, just over 2 m high. Crafted in October 1709, it commemorates Korea's victory over invading Japanese troops in the late 16th century...
...ALLOWED Dreadlocks, colored contacts and, on men, nail polish or visible body piercings (because it can be hard to tell a minor shrapnel wound apart from a badly conceived nipple ring). Nail polish is O.K . for women, so long as it's not blue, black, khaki or?things really are changing?camouflage...
...afternoon in June, four months after his liberation and with precious little accomplished, Sanders leaned back in a chair and took a deep pull off a crack pipe. Nothing he had done since his release had felt more familiar. He had spent the day helping an acquaintance move, then wound up in the empty living room as a crack pipe was passed around. He declined on the first round. The next time he reached out. The first hit is always free...
...governor, and the elusive Special Forces, first. After dinner the other journalists and I sat in our vehicles, laptops in our laps, filing stories and pictures to news-hungry editors for as long as our batteries would last. But we were not alone. Even with the car windows wound up, bemused mujahedin crowded around and, for hours, watched us work at our brightly lit computers. Their faces pressed on the glass, discussions thrived about what we were doing. We were the best entertainment in a long time. That night we all slept in one room, weapons between us and blankets...