Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 21 March 1941 — Page 32

Fourth Section

The Indianapolis Tima

Jolting Clipper Ride

3 Days From War-Dulled | Eyes to Alert America

By JOE ALEX MORRIS and LYLE C. WILSON (Copyright, 1941, by United Press.) The Yankee Clipper shuddered momentarily as she plunged through a cloud bank over the South Atlantic and the little Frechman, carrying a pillow and two life belts into a baggage compartment, gripped the door jamb to steady himself. As the big ship settled down again at 165 miles an hour he looked at his wrist watch (it was midnight) and spread the life jackets on the metal floor. Over them he flung a blanket and against the wall a pillow. Kicking off his shoes, he lay down and pulled up the blanket and his overcoat For most of us it was an experience to complain about—cramped, But not for the little Frenchman said, “1 have called

prison camp.’ he was asleep.

cold and inconvenient A month ago,” he month ago I was in a Two minutes later passengers scattered over the berths American air liner shooting southwestward 9796-mile trip from Lisbon to New York

would this heaven. A

And so were most of the other and floors of the big Panacross the ocean on a

» 4 N

THREE DAYS AND A chaotic

four continents!

warring Europe, a sweltering African coast, a busy South

American port on the Amazon, a palm-studded West Indies island.

8nd a shivering North America Three days and four book --three from war and chaos and the dul’ children to the busy page of war-conscious America

The three days begin on the brown waters of the River Tagus be-

continents. It's like turning pages in a travel

avs eves of hungry

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Four continents, from

ms Like H

chaotic Europe

to war-conscious America

unroll beneath the wings of the Yankee Clipper.

neath the, hills of Lisbon.

come from

buffeted cities of England:

We the centers of European war; from the grim, bombfrom the soldier - filled, blacked = out

Both Sides

Back from a two-month assignment on both sides of the war in Europe, Joe Alex Morris, United Press foreign news editor, and Lyle C. Wilson, Washington manager, are writing a series of parallel dispatches on conditions and viewpoints within Britain and within the Axis at the beginning of the war's second spring. As an introduction te this unique series by two of America’s finest reporters and writers, the United Press presents today their account of the flight back from Europe on the Yankee Clipper.

towns of Germany. Behind us lies fearful France and a Spanish countryside where war and blockade have imposed severe restrictions on life's barest necessities. The clipper, nestling in silver splendor at the end of her dock, loads at sundown. Fifteen minutes later Europe is behind and ahead to the southwest is the coast of West Africa. Two white-jacketed ' stewards prepare the dinner tables in the combination smoking and dining room, while the steady hum of the big motors becomes a familiar beat in vour ears. The passengers must eat in relays. By the time we have finished and some have had a scotch and soda, we must think of a place to sleep. There are not enough berths because the mail cargo is heavy in war time, y & %

That Feeling at Dawn

At dawn you strange feeling that your legs have been cut off at the knees. Your head is propped against the arm of a seat in the smoking room, vour knees hanging over the other arm, and vour hands are entangled in blanket and overcoat.

You fumble for a cigaret. The flares of the match awakens another passenger in a similar position opposite you. He stirs and you recognize a continental Cabinet Minister. His nair falls in a stringy tangle over his eves. His face twists into a grimace as he too tries to stretch his legs. At last vou have something in common with a Cabinet Minister. On the floor, under a blanket and with a sleeping bandage over his eyes, is the rotund London representative of a great American concern, his head pillowed on his brief case. In a chair by the door is a tall, dark-haired diplomatic courier whose long legs block the passage way. n n ”

Centuries From Europe

Bolama is 1917 miles from Lisbon by air and 10 centuries from Europe by standards of civilization. Its yellow stucco buildings loom up suddenly out of the forest swamps. On the pier is a strange crowd, natives with coal black skin dressed in flowing white robes, brightly colored breechclouts. Some wear half European dress—pants, an old shirt with the tail flowing out behind, even a long white costume that resembles an old-fashioned night shirt The West clipper ashore

awake with a

of * Portuguese Africa, returning on the from Lisbon, is first A salute of 21 guns fired hy 1red-hatted native soldiers greets him as he steps ashore from the launch. \ The crowd cheers. Bugles blare brassilv on the still, hot morning air. Along the water front, under two great trees arching over the

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little band of in khaki shorts and red fez are lined up with rifles at present arms. They and their Portuguese officers have the only guns in the colony. except for muzzle loaders home-made of gas pipe and a carved wooden stock by outlaw natives. As soon as the Governor has reviewed his troops, 200 natives gather at mid-morning in the street. to dance. To the beat of drums and a strange fiddle-like instrument they take turns in solo performances that range from bare-footed stomp dancing to jellv-like wriggling. Tt is noon now and the sun beats down like fire on the street. Passengers from the clipper meet, meanwhile for breakfast in one of fhe tile and plaster buildings.

dusty street, a

soldiers

A Cabinet Minister with diplomatic bag safely parked under his chair mops perspiration and loosens his necktie. Opposite him sits a representative of the President of the United States, his collar wilting like wet paper. A wealthy New York woman fans herself at the end of the table and sips lime juice. A woman refugee from France dishes up bacon and eggs with a slender hand on which sparkles a giant diamond.

In the big game country only a

’ |

Trinidad.

“Fourth Section

FRIDAY, MARCH 21, 1941

few miles away, clipper crews, which are. laid over in Bolama, are out shooting leopards, gazelle, water buffalo or even elephant and hippopotamus. n n n

Long Way Is Easiest

The clipper leaves Africa in late afternoon and at dawn it is across the Equator, circling in semi-darkness over the mouth of the Amazon River, at the important Brazilian port of Belem or Para. It is a jump of almost 2000 miles across the South Atlantic, but the prevailing winds are to the west and the clipper in certain months now follows the round-about southern route from Lisbon to New York, rather than buck the storms of the North Atlantic where the winds blow toward Europe Belem is on the River Para, which is one of two mouths of the Amazon and the main channel into that great river, A launch takes passengers from our plane to a boat anchored in mid-stream There below the Equator on the second day Wwe have breakfast Then we are away again on a 1000 while the airplane is refueled, mile flight to the British censorship control at Port of Spain on the West Indies Island of Trinidad.

n ” ” Smo

Happy Homecoming

The to New

last leg of the air journev York is non-stop from Heavy cloud banks can be seen ahead as dinner is served and by the time we are settling down for our third straight night of sleeping in chairs or on the floor, the big ship is bumping into rough spring weather over the North Atlantic. At 3 a. m. most of us are wide awake and fighting the roll and pitch of what the navigator calls “air turbulence.” The ‘clipper jolts as if it had struck a heavy

’ x _X fy “‘Bntered Sas Second-Giss Matter at PFostoffice.

eaven in Flight From Europe &.5 ms

obstacle: then it sweeps upward for a few seconds at 2000 feet a minute; then it drops swiftly and vour stomach seems to rise to where your heart should be, Almost. everybody is air sick. The usual chatter in the smoking room changes to unbroken silence. Off Cape Hatteras, fight= ing a 40-mile-an-hour head wind, the bumps become still more frequent. The skipper heads the big ship upward, seeking calmer air. Above the clouds the wind increases to 80 miles an hour and he skids back down. Four members of the crew are ili after five hours of steady bumping. Stretched out on a long seat is a dark-haired little Czech woman who has spent almost the entire trip in misery because even the slightest motion of the ship made her ill. The last seven hours until the shores of Long Island emerge through the haze are agony. Her face is drawn and white. Her first look at America —where her sons are waiting for her—is like a nightmare. A' La Guardia Airport it is bitterly cold. Snow drives across the landing platform. But inside the customs house it is warm and the difficulties of wartime travel fade quickly. Suddenly to be a

there seems

Indianapofis® jnd.

PAGE 3

~ ow

the crowd of passen-

new face in gers. You look again and it is

| hear

left

one asks, but she doesn't

For the frst time since we Lisbon she is radiant, alive “I just saw them

window,” she exclaims I

the just

tL ah--no 18hger dawn and white, through

byt beaming in a bromd smile.

“You're “feeling better?” gome- | saw them my sons.”

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