William L. Shirer Twentieth Century Journey by William L. Shirer

Author:William L. Shirer [Shirer, William L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780795351082
Publisher: RosettaBooks, LLC
Published: 2013-04-05T04:00:00+00:00

At one point in the evening an element of comedy breaks the tension. Alex Small, an old friend and colleague of mine from our days on the Paris edition of the Chicago Tribune, is sitting behind a large stein of Pilsen beer, frowning at a cable he has just received. It is from his boss, my old boss, the terrible Colonel McCormick, who owns most of the paper and runs all of it. He has cabled Alex on how to cover the war.

“Listen to this, boys and girls,” Alex calls out, pausing to gulp down a big quaff of his beer. “Advice from the colonel.” Alex starts to read the message. “Wars always start at dawn. Be there at dawn.”

A chorus of laughs. At last something to laugh about, for a moment.

“Cable him you’re already there,” Reynolds Packard, a roughneck gem of a guy with a gravelly voice—he had recently returned from covering the war in Abyssinia—cries out. More laughs.

Alex Small crumples the cable, tosses it on the floor, and swallows more of his beer. We have long called him the “intellectual” among us. He is very learned. Harvard and all that. Few know, since he almost never talks about it, that after graduation from Harvard he enlisted in the army and served as a combat infantryman in the last war. He experienced much more actual fighting than Colonel McCormick, who was a battalion and regimental officer. Alex, I believe, is the only one of us who fought in the war. The rest of us were too young.

Toward midnight, when the ultimatum is to expire, we all grow a little apprehensive. We keep checking our watches. Finally an official from the Czech Foreign Office comes in, his face grave.

“Abgelehnt,” he says in German. “Turned down.” The ultimatum is rejected by the government.

The correspondents fly to the telephone booths. Several Jews scurry out. The press agent of the Sudeten German party, a big jovial fellow who usually drops in to give us his party’s news, comes in, as usual. This time he is not jovial.

“Have they turned it down?” he asks. He hardly waits for the answer. Grabbing a small bag, he vanishes through the door.

We all have put in calls to the Sudetenland, and finally one of them gets through. There is heavy fighting there between the Sudeten Germans and the Czech gendarmerie and army. Heavy casualties on both sides. It is war. Bill Morrell comes through on the phone from Haberbirk. Will I relay his story through to London? He is speaking from the police station there. Before him, he says, lie the bodies of four Czech gendarmes and one German. The Sudeteners had gained control of the town and then retreated when Czech army reinforcements arrived. Bill asks me to call up his wife, Mary, who is expecting, and tell her he is okay.

***

About 2 A.M. I raced up the street to Broadcasting House to do my piece. Out in the street, all was calm. No troops, no police, to be seen.

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