Word: misted
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Dates: during 1940-1940
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...flown about 8,000,000 miles, made many a long hop, without a single crash, through three and a half years. Up to last week most serious damage any of the big fellows had had was a buckled landing gear. Last week the spell was broken. Flying toward the mist-shrouded San Jacinto Mountains, 20 miles southeast of Riverside, Calif., a B-17 was heard to hiccough, splutter. Then there was an explosive crash. To death against a mountainside had ridden an Army B-17 crew, three officers, three enlisted men. Meantime the military flying services, speeding up training...
Beyond Tamazunchale the real climb into the Mexican sierras began, but the party was shut off from the incredible views by a blanket of mist. For a time Henry Wallace was a little carsick from the dizzy curves, and got out and walked until it passed off. Up on the plateau the peasants had decorated the bridges with stalks of corn to welcome...
...military airport. On a moonlit field, surrounded by towering hills, he stuffed his big frame into a buoyant flying jacket* and crawled into the belly of a British bomber. The plane took off, heading north over shadowy peaks toward an Albanian port. Soon they ran into heavy mist, then a rainstorm moved in from the sea. When the pilot realized he was off his course, he dropped a flare that lighted up the hills, showed the sheer rock face of a bluff looming ahead. He dropped one bomb to lighten the plane, had no chance to release another...
Last week along the Jersey coast the rain fell and the grey Atlantic heaved in a 15-ft. swell. But some freighter crews, some fishermen, rolling under bare steerage way, saw a sight that made them forget the dull, grey weather. They heard the thunder of engines, saw the mist ripped open by a trim, broad bow, saw a tiny boat skim by, skittering off the tops of waves, pelting through others in a burst of spindrift. On her bridge they caught a quick glimpse of hooded men, goggled, drenched with spray, hanging on behind a tiny windshield...
...Evening Standard "Diary' mouthpiece of its publisher, Britain's Aircraft Production Minister, sounded a note of self-pity: "As surely as the calendar itself, asthma marches on its appointed course. Better than the barometer, asthma foretells the end of sunshiny days and the onset of fog and mist and damp. An example of what I mean is Lord Beaverbrook. Until a few days ago, he was still a free man. Today asthma has laid its harsh hand as firmly on him as a gaoler receiving an old prisoner back after a brief release...