Word: armor
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Sergeant Pullen's tank looked just like the eight other light tanks in Company D: a squat, 27,000-lb monstrosity of one-inch armor, five guns, a single turret, a 250-h.p. radial engine, gasoline tankage for about 70 miles of combat operation at 10-35 m.p.h. It was painted a dirty brown. It was not beautiful in any sense. When Sergeant Pullen tried to put his feeling for his tank into words, he would say with passion that he would feel like beating in the face of anybody who tried to take his tank. He alone knew...
...ordered the driver out of his seat on the left side, took the controls himself. When a tank is buttoned up (i.e., the turret top and ports are closed) the driver's only vision is through two tiny (one-inch by four-inch) slits in the inch-thick armor. Peering through the main gun port, the tank commander in the turret actually guides the tank by varying foot signals to the driver (to start, a light kick in the back; to stop, a steady pressure on the head). Today Sergeant Pullen scorned the foot signals, drove the tank solely...
Trouble started when Army and Navy procurement men found civilians telling them, patriotically but confusedly, how to buy tanks and airplanes and armor plate. Here Donald Nelson was of enormous help. Of a ton of newspaper clippings gossiping about his deathly struggles with military buyers, not one is wholly true. They got along from the start, and what differences they had were settled before the press heard of them. Momentary flare-ups occur, say insiders, but Nelson and his men speak the same language as the military men, particularly since he has shown them how to buy quantities in slack...
...threw it and grew so huge that it would wrap itself many times around a nearby hill. It devastated the countryside and when cut into pieces reunited and slew its attackers. A local witch told Sir John he could kill it if he would fix razor blades to his armor and vow to kill the first living thing he saw after vanquishing the Worm. If he broke the vow, the beldame said, for nine generations no Lambton would...
...beautiful young men, who appears in every costume the feminine audience could wish, from breech clout to dress suit. Prepossessing young Macdonald Carey is the editress' eventual sweetheart. And Danny Kaye is very funny as a pansy fashion photographer who in true Cecil Beatonish style photographs a suit of armor with a blue chiffon scarf wrapped around its metal neck and stuffed doves perched on its shoulders. In the circus dream he scores the comic hit of the show with a jabberwockian song consisting entirely of the names of Russian composers...