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W. Earl Hall World War II stories, 1944
Letter #21
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slug-Brave Front-4 By W. EARL HALL Globe-Gazette Managing Editor Letter No. 21 Paris, France--(By U.S. Army Bomber Transit)--The amazing capacity of the French people to put up a good front no matter what the difficulties is no where better demonstrated than in their shops and stores. This is written at the end of a day in which I've walked at least a dozen miles in downtown Paris. There are no taxis in this city which used to have them by the thousands. Most of the shops are open and with the most attractive show windows imaginable. But when you enter the shop, as I did numerous times, you discover that the shelves are almost bare. Most of the salable goods has been placed on front-window display. That's what I mean when I refer to the French ability to put up a brave appearance under trying conditions. Prices mostly are high and much of the material on sale is "ersatz," a term borrowed from the Germans. Perfumes are perhaps the one exception. My day started with a breakfast with Ernie Pyle, perhaps the most famous of America's war correspondents. It was his last day in Paris, and perhaps his last day in the European war theater. "I need a rest," he told me. "I'm tired in spirit perhaps more than in body." His plan is to fly to England, spend a few days there and then make a leisurely voyage home, where he will be away from both war and telephones. Although he was making no predictions about the end of the war, he had the feeling--as do all of the dozens of correspondents I've contacted over here--that the war was in its final stages so far as Germany is concerned. A week ago, just as I was leaving London, I saw and chatted with Gordon Gammack, Des Moines Register war correspondent, on the eve of his return home by plane. He too spoke of the disintegration of the German army. A long walk up Champs Elysees took me to the famous Arc de Triomph, where American soldiers in large numbers were passing by for a reverent salute over the grave of France's unknown soldier. An Arkansas soldier stood guard. Next I proceeded to Eiffel tower, a landmark I had spotted some 25 miles to the west of Paris as we approached yesterday. I had hoped to see Paris from its great height, as I did in 1927--but this privilege was denied me. American soldiers in large numbers were clustered about the expansive base of the great network of steel, Parisian counterpart of our Empire-State. One of them with whom I struck up a conversation was stationed at a base, not far from Paris, where Mason City's Odette Stoddard is in charge of a Red Cross cinemobile. I sent greetings to her. On my way to Notre Dame cathedral, about 2 miles distant, I stopped to make inquiry about the route. The young Frenchman to whom I addressed my question couldn't tell me--the language barrier is terrific here--but he could take me to it. And that's just what he did--on the back seat of his tandem bicycle--while his girl friend waited. When I offered to pay him for his kindness he was visibly hurt. But he would--and did--accept a package of American cigarets, the going price for which here in Paris is $2 a pack. I really wish I had a picture of myself on the tail end of that bicycle. It would be something for the rotogravure section. Incidentally bicycles are the universal mode of transportation here. I'm bold there isn't a private automobile in operation in Paris today. The reason: No petrol. Tomorrow I'm returning to London by air for a couple of weeks, during which I hope to fan out to some important places in both England and Scotland. I shall always look back on my 2 days here in Paris as one of the most revealing and stimulating experiences of my life. - 30 -
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slug-Brave Front-4 By W. EARL HALL Globe-Gazette Managing Editor Letter No. 21 Paris, France--(By U.S. Army Bomber Transit)--The amazing capacity of the French people to put up a good front no matter what the difficulties is no where better demonstrated than in their shops and stores. This is written at the end of a day in which I've walked at least a dozen miles in downtown Paris. There are no taxis in this city which used to have them by the thousands. Most of the shops are open and with the most attractive show windows imaginable. But when you enter the shop, as I did numerous times, you discover that the shelves are almost bare. Most of the salable goods has been placed on front-window display. That's what I mean when I refer to the French ability to put up a brave appearance under trying conditions. Prices mostly are high and much of the material on sale is "ersatz," a term borrowed from the Germans. Perfumes are perhaps the one exception. My day started with a breakfast with Ernie Pyle, perhaps the most famous of America's war correspondents. It was his last day in Paris, and perhaps his last day in the European war theater. "I need a rest," he told me. "I'm tired in spirit perhaps more than in body." His plan is to fly to England, spend a few days there and then make a leisurely voyage home, where he will be away from both war and telephones. Although he was making no predictions about the end of the war, he had the feeling--as do all of the dozens of correspondents I've contacted over here--that the war was in its final stages so far as Germany is concerned. A week ago, just as I was leaving London, I saw and chatted with Gordon Gammack, Des Moines Register war correspondent, on the eve of his return home by plane. He too spoke of the disintegration of the German army. A long walk up Champs Elysees took me to the famous Arc de Triomph, where American soldiers in large numbers were passing by for a reverent salute over the grave of France's unknown soldier. An Arkansas soldier stood guard. Next I proceeded to Eiffel tower, a landmark I had spotted some 25 miles to the west of Paris as we approached yesterday. I had hoped to see Paris from its great height, as I did in 1927--but this privilege was denied me. American soldiers in large numbers were clustered about the expansive base of the great network of steel, Parisian counterpart of our Empire-State. One of them with whom I struck up a conversation was stationed at a base, not far from Paris, where Mason City's Odette Stoddard is in charge of a Red Cross cinemobile. I sent greetings to her. On my way to Notre Dame cathedral, about 2 miles distant, I stopped to make inquiry about the route. The young Frenchman to whom I addressed my question couldn't tell me--the language barrier is terrific here--but he could take me to it. And that's just what he did--on the back seat of his tandem bicycle--while his girl friend waited. When I offered to pay him for his kindness he was visibly hurt. But he would--and did--accept a package of American cigarets, the going price for which here in Paris is $2 a pack. I really wish I had a picture of myself on the tail end of that bicycle. It would be something for the rotogravure section. Incidentally bicycles are the universal mode of transportation here. I'm bold there isn't a private automobile in operation in Paris today. The reason: No petrol. Tomorrow I'm returning to London by air for a couple of weeks, during which I hope to fan out to some important places in both England and Scotland. I shall always look back on my 2 days here in Paris as one of the most revealing and stimulating experiences of my life. - 30 -
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