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From 11/3/2012 To 3/16/2013 is 133 days
From 11/2/1965 To 3/15/1966 is 133 days
http://www.mitpressjournals.org/doi/pdf/10.1162/152039706775212067
A Fusion Bomb over Andalucía: U.S. Information Policy and the 1966 Palomares Incident
David Stiles
Journal of Cold War Studies
Vol. 8, No. 1, Winter 2006
page 63
An Incident Runs Its Course: The Result of Successful Policy?
In the end, “The Bomb in Spain” talking paper did not have to be used extensively. By the time the paper was released, the media had already uncovered most of the details about the Palomares incident. In the meantime, Duke’s open and somewhat humorous approach to the matter had helped to smooth over what could have been a public relations fiasco in Spain. Still, Duke worried that officials in Washington would undermine the progress he had made. On 14 March the ambassador expressed his concerns about the resolution of Palomares in a message to Jack Valenti, then serving as special assistant to the President.
I write to you now (events happen so fast) in order to head off any possibility of premature announcements, either at the White House level or the State Department level, before I would be given an opportunity to be heard and subsequently empowered to handle the matter at this end. The manner in which the Palomares incident is terminated will be of great importance, not only in Spain, but to every nation in the world where there are nuclear overflights of bases.
Duke believed that he, as ambassador, was the most appropriate person to manage U.S. information policy with regard to the Palomares incident. He was on the ground in Spain and knew Spanish government officials. He was the one who had achieved a public relations coup with the swim party in the Mediterranean Sea, ingratiating himself with all the press photographers.
Sure enough, Duke did end up playing a vital role in the final phase of the Palomares story. On 15 March, the U.S. Navy task force off the coast of Almería spotted the bomb’s parachute, thereby ending the search phase of the operation and starting the recovery phase.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess
Sent: Saturday, November 3, 2012 3:00 AM
To: 'Chad Trammell'
Subject: 1 - The Queen
1996 film "Star Trek: First Contact" DVD video:
Starfleet Captain Jean-Luc Picard: Ahab spent years hunting the white whale that crippled him, a quest for vengeance, but in the end, it destroyed him and his ship.
Lily Sloane: I guess he didn't know when to quit.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0066206/quotes
IMDb
The Internet Movie Database
Memorable quotes for
Patton (1970)
Patton: Thirty years from now, when you're sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you, "What did you do in the great World War II," you won't have to say, "Well... I shoveled shit in Louisiana."
2007 film "I Am Legend" DVD video:
01:12:00
Anna: You are *the* Robert Neville, aren't you?
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/80261/King_-_The_Stand.html
Stephen King
The Stand - The Complete & Uncut Edition
Chapter 21
Stu Redman was frightened.
He looked out the barred window of his new room in Stovington, Vermont, and what he saw was a small town far below, miniature gas station signs, some sort of mill, a main street, a river, the turnpike, and beyond the turnpike the granite backbone of far western New England—the Green Mountains.
He was frightened because this was more like a jail cell than a hospital room. He was frightened because Denninger was gone. He hadn’t seen Denninger since the whole crazy three-ring circus moved from Atlanta to here. Deitz was gone, too. Stu thought that maybe Denninger and Deitz were sick, perhaps dead already.
Somebody had slipped. Either that, or the disease that Charles D. Campion had brought to Arnette was a lot more communicable than anyone had guessed. Either way, the integrity of the Atlanta Plague Center had been breached, and Stu thought that everyone who had been there was now getting a chance to do a little firsthand research on the virus they called A-Prime or the superflu.
They still did tests on him here, but they seemed desultory. The schedule had become slipshod. Results were scrawled down and he had a suspicion that someone looked at them cursorily, shook his head, and dumped them in the nearest shredder.
That wasn’t the worst, though. The worst was the guns. The nurses who came in to take blood or spit or urine were now always accompanied by a soldier in a white-suit, and the soldier had a gun in a plastic Baggie. The Baggie was fastened over the wrist of the soldier’s right gauntlet. The gun was an army-issue .45, and Stu had no doubt that, if he tried any of the games he had tried with Deitz, the .45 would tear the end of the Baggie into smoking, burning shreds and Stu Redman would become a Golden Oldie.
If they were just going through the motions now, then he had become expendable. Being under detention was bad. Being under detention and being expendable… that was very bad.
He watched the six o’clock news very carefully every night now. The men who had attempted the coup in India had been branded “outside agitators” and shot. The police were still looking for the person or persons who had blown a power station in Laramie, Wyoming, yesterday. The Supreme Court had decided 6–3 that known homosexuals could not be fired from civil service jobs. And for the first time, there had been a whisper of other things.
AEC officials in Miller County, Arkansas, had denied there was any chance of a reactor meltdown. The atomic power plant in the small town of Fouke, about thirty miles from the Texas border, had been plagued with minor circuitry problems in the equipment that controlled the pile’s cooling cycle, but there was no cause for alarm. The army units in that area were merely a precautionary measure. Stu wondered what precautions the army could take if the Fouke reactor did indeed go China Syndrome. He thought the army might be in southwestern Arkansas for other reasons altogether. Fouke wasn’t all that far from Arnette.
Another item reported that an East Coast flu epidemic seemed to be in the early stages—the Russian strain, nothing to really worry about except for the very old and the very young. A tired New York City doctor was interviewed in a hallway of Brooklyn’s Mercy Hospital. He said the flu was exceptionally tenacious for Russian-A, and he urged viewers to get flu boosters. Then he suddenly started to say something else, but the sound cut off and you could only see his lips moving. The picture cut back to the newscaster in the studio, who said: “There have been some reported deaths in New York as a result of this latest flu outbreak, but contributing causes such as urban pollution and perhaps even the AIDS virus have been present in many of those fatal cases. Government health officials emphasize that this is Russian-A flu, not the more dangerous Swine flu. In the meantime, old advice is good advice, the doctors say: stay in bed, get lots of rest, drink fluids, and take aspirin for the fever.”
The newscaster smiled reassuringly… and off-camera, someone sneezed.
The sun was touching the horizon now, tinting it a gold that would turn to red and fading orange soon. The nights were the worst. They had flown him to a part of the country that was alien to him, and it was somehow more alien at night. In this early summer season the amount of green he could see from his window seemed abnormal, excessive, a little scary. He had no friends; as far as he knew all the people who had been on the plane with him when it flew from Braintree to Atlanta were now dead. He was surrounded by automatons who took his blood at gunpoint. He was afraid for his life, although he still felt fine and had begun to believe he wasn’t going to catch It, whatever It was.
Thoughtfully, Stu wondered if it would be possible to escape from here.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 03 November 2012 excerpt ends]
- posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 05:42 AM Pacific Time Spokane Valley Washington USA Wednesday 22 June 2016
