Word: chesting
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Points at Parties. The "collective leaders" suddenly emerged as partygoers. None was more popular than round, ruddy-faced Nikita with his big smile and happy handclasp. When engaged in engrossing conversation he grabbed his victim by the lapel or arm, or finger-pinched him vigorously in the chest. When bored (which was seldom), his eyes assumed a far away look. When in his cups (which was often), a scar under his nose and the three moles on his cheeks stood out from his flushed face. He offended the French by saying that in Paris (which he has never visited...
...chill (58°) water and turned upstream, hugging the shoreline. Turning, he called out: "Everybody O.K.?" Behind him, the marching column was floundering. Again he shouted: "Everybody O.K.?" The answer came loud: "No!" Men were deep in the mud; Recruit Raymond Delgado yelled that he was up to his chest in the muck. McKeon turned to Recruit John Michael Maloof and ordered: "Go help them out." Replied Maloof: "O.K., but let me have your stick." Using McKeon's broomstick, Maloof pulled Delgado...
...frenzied embrace. Brewer freed himself and surfaced; Wood was nowhere to be seen. Recruit Thomas Doorhy dragged Donald O'Shea to sounder footing, then left to help others. That was the last time anybody saw O'Shea alive. Recruit John Edward Martinez pulled Charles Reilly shoreward to chest-deep water. Reilly gasped: "I'm O.K." Martinez left him-and Reilly disappeared. Recruit Joseph Anthony Moran (son of Actress Thelma Ritter) brought Leroy Thompson to relative safety and went out again. Thompson went under. So did little Jerry Thomas. So did Tom Hardeman, the platoon's best...
...tenor makes a fresh debut . . . Exclamations of pleasure and surprise greet his first melody . . . yet this is but the prelude to the emotions he is to stir before the evening is over . . . A number comes during which the daring artist, stressing each syllable, gives out some high chest notes with a resonant fullness, an expression of heart-rending grief, and a beauty of tone that so far nothing had led one to expect. A petrified silence reigns in the house, people hold their breath, amazement and admiration are. blended in a mood akin to fear. There is, in fact, reason...
...Britain), Novelist Brown paints combat in its primary colors of blood, mud and terror. He also etches telling vignettes of the lunatic grotesqueries of war, e.g., a paratroop major with 20 ft. of primer cord wrapped around him and 40 lbs. of explosives on him is hit in the chest by a tracer bullet as he stands ready to jump, and reels back into the plane with the primer cord smoldering, but a quick-witted sergeant kicks him out, and he explodes in mid-air like a giant firecracker...