Beirut was dozing in the midday sun, its odd little civil war out to lunch, when the unbelievable word raced across the city: "There's a fleet off the airport!" Curious crowds gathered on the sandy knobs along Lebanon's shore line; bikini-clad lasses turned over on the beach to peer out across the blue-green sea. Silhouetted against the sun that danced hazily on the choppy waters were three transports and two LSTs, flanked by two destroyers that moved in 500 yards from shore. In the classic pattern that precedes an amphibious assault, the...
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