Word: austro-hungarian
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Public-Power Man. David Eli Lilienthal was born in the little town of Morton, Ill., the son of Jewish immigrants from a village near the old Austro-Hungarian city of Pressburg. He spent his boyhood in Valparaiso, Ind., where his father was a small merchant, went on to De Pauw University, where he was twice president of the student body and an editor of the school paper. He turned into a promising light heavyweight boxer, and met a girl named Helen Marian Lamb...
...Convert. Various tatters in the blanket of secrecy reveal Josip Broz as an Austro-Hungarian Army private during World War I. Destiny, in the anonymous guise of a War Office bureaucrat, sent him to the eastern front. There, he was captured by (or deserted to) the Russians, was packed off to Siberia. In 1917, Tito entered the Red Army, fought in the Russian civil war, was chosen for special training as a Communist foreign agent, became indelibly indoctrinated with the century's great new faith. During his novitiate, he found time to marry a Russian girl who bore...
Remember Bratislava. Slovakia's deviation from the national pattern was the first concern of the Communists and their veteran boss, Vice Premier Klement Gottwald (who was a good bet to be Czechoslovakia's next Premier). Pipe-puffing Comrade Gottwald started out by fighting Russia as an Austro-Hungarian sergeant major in World War I, has been fighting for Communism ever since. Like Yugoslavia's Tito he is a former metalworker, and like France's Thorez he sat out the war in Moscow. Like both, he knows how to deal with overly independent elements...
...some naive rightists assumed that power would mellow their driving determination. Thorez shows no sign of softening. His 5 ft. 10 in., 165-lb. body is solid and strong, his blue eyes clear. As vice president of France, he sits in the fussy luxury of the Hotel Matignon, which Austro-Hungarian ambassadors occupied before 1914. The Gobelin tapestries on the walls neither fit nor affect his revolutionary ardor. He doesn't even know the name of the Roman Emperor whose bust faces him. When Thorez laughs (he is one of the few Marxists who laugh), his bellow shakes...
This version of the love story of the Austro-Hungarian royal heir (Harry Stockwell) and his unroyal Marinka (Joan Roberts) furnishes a good deal more low comedy than high romance. It is told without style or period elegance, in a lurching effort to reconcile antics with atmosphere. As a result, the Alt Wien of 1888 and the Broadway of 1945 constantly collide, and neither wins out. The whole thing merely smacks of something in between the two-operetta the world over, circa...