August 16, 2004 |
A day after peace talks collapsed, U.S. troops and the militia led by Shiite Muslim cleric Muqtada Sadr resumed fighting Sunday, leaving two American soldiers dead and a wall near the sacred Imam Ali shrine damaged. Fighting in the vast cemetery and in the Old City picked up roughly where it had left off when a cease-fire was declared Friday. U.S. troops moved to tighten a cordon they had set up last week to rein in Sadr's militia. "The Iraqi government has asked us to squeeze them," said Maj.
May 5, 2002 |
"Billy Port's ride" to rescue U.S. Marines stranded in China in World War II is a legend, James Brady says, told and retold whenever old "Chinaside" veterans gather. But official documentation is scarce, leaving Brady ample room to embroider the legend in his novel, "Warning of War." Days before Pearl Harbor, Brady says, a warning that war might soon break out with Japan was sent to U.S.
CALIFORNIA | LOCAL
January 7, 2007 |
A few days before Christmas, a neighbor noticed two men in military uniforms knocking repeatedly at the Tamayo family's darkened front door in Fontana. She told them that the family was at a wedding in Mexico, and asked if something was wrong. They said they needed to speak to the parents of Marine Corps Lance Cpl. Fernando Tamayo, 19, as soon as possible. The neighbor phoned the Tamayos at once.
CALIFORNIA | LOCAL
September 25, 2004 |
Unified by their grief, the four parents of dead sons felt compelled to be at this Marine base early Friday morning. Sheila Cobb came from Tampa, Fla.; Sandra Aceves from Chula Vista; Mark Crowley from San Ramon in Northern California; and Diane Layfield from Fremont, also in Northern California. All had sons killed in the Marines' months-long fight against insurgents in the Sunni Triangle city of Ramadi. Tearful and determined, they wanted to be here when their sons' battalion returned home.
March 8, 2001 |
The bloody tableau facing San Diego County Sheriff's Deputy Howard Kluge was the stuff of nightmares. The bodies of children lay strewn like discarded toys. Their moans filled the air--cries of pain, pleas for help. Kluge's conscience tugged hard, but he had no choice. He couldn't help. Not yet. Not until he got to the gunman who caused the mayhem. So he ignored the cries. "It was the most helpless feeling in my life," he said.