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W. Earl Hall World War II stories, 1944

1944-09-19 Letter #31

Slug-London's Hyde-4
Passed for Publication
19 Sep 1944
By W. EARL HALL
Globe-Gazette Managing Editor
Letter No. 31
London, England(U.S. Army Bomber Transit)--I've just heard it charged in open meeting that there isn't an honest fiber in Winston Churchill, that Morrison and Bevin have "sold out the cause of labor" and that nothing about the war is being run right.
You've guess it.  I've been attending a Sunday afternoon session of the Marble Arch forum in Hyde Park.  In Chicago the same kind of institution is known as the "Washington Park Bug club."
Everybody with a speech on his chest comes to this are at the end of ritzy Oxford street, with his own soapbox, and orates to his heart's content.  His audience depends entirely on how entertaining he is.
No holds are barred for either the speakers or hecklers--so long as the orators stay short of espousing open revolution.  Bobbies stand in the background, wearing a "that's where I cam in" look.
At any given time you have your pick of 20 or more speakers.  Subjects range from strange religious doctrines to violently leftwing politics.  Three communist speakers were doing their stuff, 2 of them under the red flag.
Not infrequently the hecklers are more entertaining than the speakers themselves.  There are hecklers who heckle the orators and then there are hecklers who heckle the hecklers.
Participants in the forum aren't permitted to solicit money.  But they manage to drop some pretty pointed hints about their need of that substance.  That's what "Mabel" was doing when I arrived on the scene today.  
Mabel, a girl of 30 summers and probably twice that number of winters, was explaining, under handicap of no front teeth, that that very morning she was going along the street in London's east end when she looked down and saw a pound note.
"I'm sure," she added in her broad Cockney, "that God sent me that money because He knew how badly I needed it."
"Rubbish," shouted out a heckler, "that money was lost by somebody.  Why didn't you try to find the rightful owner?"
Some of the soapbox boys are masters of repartee.  To one heckler who sought to throw doubt on the Christian religion by pointing out that even though it had been practiced for nearly 2,000 years, the world was in a frightful state.
"All right, brother," shot back the ad lib evangelist, "water has been with us even longer than that and I can readily see that your neck needs washing.  Neither water nor Christianity is any good unless you make use of it."
In the midst of an academic dissertation about the virtues of communism, by an earnest, well-dressed young woman, an insistent and persistent inquirer demanded to know whether she would be permitted to make a speech favoring capitalism and democracy in Russia.
The explanation that because conditions were so nearly perfect under communism that nobody needs to talk about other forms of government seemed to fall a bit short of satisfying the inquirer.
Strangest perhaps of all the volunteer orators was a colored man, decked out in red, white and blue feathers and a robe.  He calls himself an "Ethiopian Indian."  Above him were the flags of all the allied nations.
Where he really comes from, I didn't learn.  But he engaged in a line of rapid-fire gags suggestive of Bob Hope--except that some of them were a bit more suggestive.
The communist orator holding forth next to him, and losing most of his crowd to him, kept referring to him as "stupid, vulgar and blasphemous."  My own notion, however, was that he was the only one on the lot who could get by on the stage.
The one thing demonstrated by this whole institution is that Britain even in wartime, is clinging tenaciously to its best tradition of free speech--even for its nuts.
--  30  --

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Slug-London's Hyde-4 Passed for Publication 19 Sep 1944 By W. EARL HALL Globe-Gazette Managing Editor Letter No. 31 London, England(U.S. Army Bomber Transit)--I've just heard it charged in open meeting that there isn't an honest fiber in Winston Churchill, that Morrison and Bevin have "sold out the cause of labor" and that nothing about the war is being run right. You've guess it. I've been attending a Sunday afternoon session of the Marble Arch forum in Hyde Park. In Chicago the same kind of institution is known as the "Washington Park Bug club." Everybody with a speech on his chest comes to this are at the end of ritzy Oxford street, with his own soapbox, and orates to his heart's content. His audience depends entirely on how entertaining he is. No holds are barred for either the speakers or hecklers--so long as the orators stay short of espousing open revolution. Bobbies stand in the background, wearing a "that's where I cam in" look. At any given time you have your pick of 20 or more speakers. Subjects range from strange religious doctrines to violently leftwing politics. Three communist speakers were doing their stuff, 2 of them under the red flag. Not infrequently the hecklers are more entertaining than the speakers themselves. There are hecklers who heckle the orators and then there are hecklers who heckle the hecklers. Participants in the forum aren't permitted to solicit money. But they manage to drop some pretty pointed hints about their need of that substance. That's what "Mabel" was doing when I arrived on the scene today. Mabel, a girl of 30 summers and probably twice that number of winters, was explaining, under handicap of no front teeth, that that very morning she was going along the street in London's east end when she looked down and saw a pound note. "I'm sure," she added in her broad Cockney, "that God sent me that money because He knew how badly I needed it." "Rubbish," shouted out a heckler, "that money was lost by somebody. Why didn't you try to find the rightful owner?" Some of the soapbox boys are masters of repartee. To one heckler who sought to throw doubt on the Christian religion by pointing out that even though it had been practiced for nearly 2,000 years, the world was in a frightful state. "All right, brother," shot back the ad lib evangelist, "water has been with us even longer than that and I can readily see that your neck needs washing. Neither water nor Christianity is any good unless you make use of it." In the midst of an academic dissertation about the virtues of communism, by an earnest, well-dressed young woman, an insistent and persistent inquirer demanded to know whether she would be permitted to make a speech favoring capitalism and democracy in Russia. The explanation that because conditions were so nearly perfect under communism that nobody needs to talk about other forms of government seemed to fall a bit short of satisfying the inquirer. Strangest perhaps of all the volunteer orators was a colored man, decked out in red, white and blue feathers and a robe. He calls himself an "Ethiopian Indian." Above him were the flags of all the allied nations. Where he really comes from, I didn't learn. But he engaged in a line of rapid-fire gags suggestive of Bob Hope--except that some of them were a bit more suggestive. The communist orator holding forth next to him, and losing most of his crowd to him, kept referring to him as "stupid, vulgar and blasphemous." My own notion, however, was that he was the only one on the lot who could get by on the stage. The one thing demonstrated by this whole institution is that Britain even in wartime, is clinging tenaciously to its best tradition of free speech--even for its nuts. -- 30 --