Word: cl
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...correspondents waited day after day in a draughty courtyard in the Rue de Crenelle playing cards, drinking beer, arguing, squabbling, waiting for Marshal Foch to die. Last week the identical men were waiting in another courtyard, across the Seine in the Rue Franklin beneath the window of Georges Clémenceau...
...Clémenceau did not take kindly to his death watch...
...Tiger in bed, breathing heavily, unconscious from a sudden heart attack. Worried specialists rushed to his bedside, administered oxygen, strychnine, summoned his son, his daughter, his grandson. They privately gave up hope that the old man could live through the night. They forgot the implacable will of Georges Clémenceau. The man who carried France through the dark winter of 1917 by the sheer force of his personal hatred of Germany, whose wool-gloved fists so impressed all observers of the Versailles Peace Conference, does not give up easily. He was ready to die this year, but not while...
...chosen and special art that this little man from Flanders brought facility and fidelity which at times seemed miraculous. Gliding like an actor imperceptibly into the rôle of the statesman for whom he was translating, Professor Camerlynck would seem to become by turns Statesmen Lloyd George, Clémenceau, Wilson, Balfour, Hughes, Briand, Dawes or perhaps that wily Greek, old Eleutherios Venizelos. "We Greeks!" M. Camerlynck would cry, "We Greeks demand so-and-so as our rightful, our inalienable heritage...
...great, unexpected appointment as Chief Interpreter to the Paris Peace Conference, the chance of a lifetime which turned a brittle, impecunious professor into the confidant of the Big Three at their most secret and vital meetings. Perhaps M. Camerlynck was even present on that celebrated evening when Georges Clémenceau and David Lloyd George are supposed to have gotten Woodrow Wilson convivially stimulated,, but if so the little Fleming never told. When asked in his later years: "Why don't you write your memoirs?" Gustave Henri Camerlynck always laconically replied. "I know too much." He was 60 when...