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More Models Faster. Age, Detroit pundits reason, militates against Goodman's going much higher in the G.M. hierarchy because he will be close to retirement himself in four years. A barrel-chested outgoing life of the party, Goodman started at G.M. 36 years ago on the assembly line, worked his way to the top through the Fisher Body and Buick-Oldsmobile-Pontiac assembly divisions. His biggest contribution: cutting the time it takes to develop a new model from more than three years to less than...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Autos: Who's What at G.M. | 11/17/1961 | See Source »

Well, there are rotten Aepfel in every barrel, and this doesn't disturb me nearly so much as the comments of a certain deranged Herr Dieringer, who, in Chapter 32, is told of a large fire in his unnamed town. Sagt Herr Dieringer (who, we later learn, is a member of the local health insurance fund association...

Author: By Anthony Hiss, | Title: The Germans | 11/15/1961 | See Source »

...armored personnel carrier, held out three fresh pink carnations, murmured in German, "I brought you some different colors today; God bless you!" Understanding the sentiment if not the words, the young soldier accepted the flowers with a grin, muttered "Danke schön" proudly stuffed them in the perforated barrel cooler of his 20-mm. cannon. Farther up the street a pack of M48 "Patton" tanks were demurely decorated by jars of bright red asters and daisies perched on their armor...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: World: Flowers for Tanks | 11/10/1961 | See Source »

Smoothly and quickly, Technical Sergeant John H. Simpson of East St. Louis. Ill., swung the 90-mm. gun barrel of his M48 Patton tank down a sandy lane in West Berlin's 15-sq. mi. Grunewald Forest, aimed at a dark green box 920 yards away. "If that was a Russian tank." he yelled. "I would have had him with one round before he backed into the bushes...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Berlin: Ever Ready | 10/27/1961 | See Source »

This bum, memorably played by Donald Pleasence, is the smelliest, itchiest, un-deloused scamp ever plucked from the rim of a rubbish barrel. Every time he opens his mouth, he picks at the scab of past wrongs and present hates. A wily slum serf, the tramp raises a mock one-finger salute to his masters, and plays the brothers off against each other. They, in turn, offer him the nebulous post of care taker, and finally, in mutual revulsion, cast him out to an unknown fate...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Theater: Unwrapping Mummies | 10/13/1961 | See Source »

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