Word: raid
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Communications dwindle to a minor concern in wartime for correspondents who find themselves sharing fear and hardship with the citizens of the countries they cover. When air-raid sirens howled Thursday night, Jerusalem bureau chief Jon Hull and his wife Judy donned gas masks, moved to a sealed room, then quickly placed their 15-month-old son Dylan in a small plastic tent designed to protect infants from chemical poisons. As Dylan howled in protest, Jon got on the phone to find out more about the Scud missiles that were falling on Israel and to advise us in New York...
Previous generations of pilots had spoken of a "bomber's moon." But that was in an era of what would now be considered low-tech conflict. Today the ideal condition for an air raid is a pitch-black night. Infrared devices and laser- guided bombs enable pilots to see and hit their targets through inky darkness; moonlight would serve only to make their planes more visible to antiaircraft gunners. Jan. 15 was the first of three moonless nights in Iraq and Kuwait. No good; the U.S. considered the deadline for using force to be midnight American Eastern Standard Time...
...horrible that it is hard to imagine what worse event could have happened. The ground invasion of kuwait hasn't yet begun to bring in thousands of American and Iraqi deaths. However precise American superplanes are, and if Vietnam after the War is any indication, the largest bombing raid in history will reduce Iraq to a heap of rubble. Kuwait will probably look worse. And when all the killing is over, if we behave as we did after Vietnam, Panama and Nicaragua, then Iraq and Kuwait will remain in shambles for years to come...
...jolted out of bed by a deafening air raid siren. I flip on army radio to get a report and then run to the living room to peek out the window, which overlooks the western suburb of Ramot. I suddenly feel the "swoosh" of supersonic jet-wash that has become familiar to all Israelis...
...raid siren sounds even louder, it seems, than it had yesterday morning. People are shouting "Tilim, tilim (missiles, missiles)!!" in the hallways. Army radio is on instantly. The routine is the same. Masks and down to the sealed room. I am about out the door headed down to 6, when Ze'ev and Mike (the two cameramen) rush into our room. 1424. They head straight for the balcony. I can't believe it. These guys want to take pictures of a missile attack from the open-air balcony! "You guys are fucking crazy," I said...