Word: department
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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From such a countryside not yet at war, but grimly preparing for the worst, did Finland's gruff, humbly born, dark-bearded and deeply beloved President Kyosti Kallio last week depart. He left Helsinki by air for Stockholm to confer in desperate earnest with the three tall, umptigenarian Kings of Scandinavia, all markedly democratic, each a devout Lutheran and all keenly aware that the unleashed might of ruthless, un-Christian Bolsheviks and Nazis now menaces the peaceful Nordic States...
...elin moved cautiously to retain it. The sector he chose for his first move against Germany's "impregnable" Westwall (or Limes Line*) was the 100-mi, stretch from Lauterbourg on the Rhine, northwest to the Moselle River (see map). Here the German border and the Westwall guarding it depart from the Rhine, to run across hilly vineyard and forest country. To break through the Wall here does not involve the added difficulty of crossing the Rhine. And neutral Luxembourg guards the French left flank. Last week the lower reaches of the Maginot Line and Westwall, facing each other across...
...Alongside the Hall of Air Transportation, arrive and depart Pan American Airways' crack transpacific Clippers. (After the Exposition closes, Treasure Island will remain an airport.) Inside the Hall, no thrill for the multitude, is Wrong-Way Corrigan's "crate...
Signer Mussolini's smooth answer was that his legionnaires, who had shed blood in the glorious Spanish campaigns, surely could not be expected to depart before they had marched down Madrid's Gran Via and Calle de Alcalá, along with 500,000 Spaniards, in a final salute to El Caudillo. And Italy could surely not be held responsible for Dictator Franco's delays. Last week the British and French began to suspect that Il Duce and El Caudillo were giving them the runaround, that Italian soldiers might remain in Spain just as long as Dictator Mussolini...
...Ascent, Vag muses, is little better than The Descent. The numbness which has held him in thrall all this time--and which has been the only thing to make life possible at all in the long torturing weeks of the Biannual Heat--now stubbornly refuses to depart. Everything--mind, body,--seems permanently, albeit painlessly, frozen with the icy breath of the Great Fear, which is said to be the odorless exhaust generated by one of the machines which throb all around Vag. Once or twice since The Descent began, Vag has been able to rouse himself from this lethargy...