Word: sirens
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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First commentator heard on the CBS roundup from England was Ed Murrow. Said he: "This is Trafalgar Square. The noise you hear at the moment is the sound of the air-raid siren." Calmly Murrow described the searchlights stabbing the London sky, the muted traffic, the shelter beneath St. Martin's in the Fields. He was still talking when the program moved on to the kitchen of the Savoy Hotel, where Bob Bowman described a menu that included eight hors d'oeuvres, eight different kinds of meat and game. With him was famed Chef François Latry...
...issues traded, is the London Stock Exchange. For war "The House," as Londoners call its huge six-story building, has corrugated metal shutters on the windows, slabs of concrete over lavatory glass, skylights, pavements, etc. Inside, 30 seconds before the rest of London hears an air-raid siren's wail, a, special Klaxon stops the traders. They gather their books and scurry to their City offices, all less than half a mile away. Only red-and-blue liveried "waiters" (runners) are left on the echoing floor. So called because 18th-Century brokers did their trading in coffee houses...
...last week as the Germans marched on Paris, Paul Archinard, NBC's correspondent, sat down at a typewriter in his newly decorated apartment (also NBC Paris office), began to peck out his next scheduled broadcast. Suddenly an air-raid siren screamed, and Archinard, together with his two girl helpers, headed out of the apartment at the double quick. They were huddled in a hallway when several Nazi bombs whammed down upon adjoining buildings, exploded with a crash that blasted doors and windows out of Archinard's apartment, ruined 10,000 francs worth of fresh paint and plaster. White...
...first siren wails since March tore the night air of Paris last week and citizens as they rushed to dugouts in their night clothes saw the whole sky streaked with tracer shells erupting like Roman candles...
...room-Rebecca's ash tray still heaped with cigarette stubs, the over-plump cushions of her flowered couch-the real life of the woman which her husband is revealing for the first time to another person. As Olivier pauses, the cobwebbed telephone shrills like a police siren in the silence; scene and story reach their star-shell denouement...