Word: stationers
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Jumping back into their cars, the assassins roared away. Soon afterward a group of Iron Guards rushed the Bucharest radio station, shot the doorman in the leg and burst in upon a young woman radio announcer who swooned as they shouted into her microphone for all Rumania to hear: "Attention! Calinescu has been assassinated. The action was carried out by Iron Guards." It so happened that the Premier's wife, who was staying at their country place, was listening to this broadcast, which she at first took to be a hoax. She set out for Bucharest with...
Night. A railway station at Cernauti, Rumania, onetime outpost of German culture in the East, now a hurtling trade centre at the base of the Carpathian Mountains. Rolling hills in the background, overshadowed by the black mass of a 3,000-ft. peak; the Prut River flowing nearby. Enter Colonel Josef Beck, Foreign Minister of Poland. No longer the same man as in Act I and II, the Colonel is haggard, sleepless; the sardonic elegance that marked his appearance has vanished. With him is Marshal Smigly-Rydz, Commander in Chief of the Polish Armies, equally haggard, desperate...
Eighteen days, 432 hours later, the General and the Foreign Minister stood on the railway station of a provincial city in a foreign country, quarreling so bitterly that newspaper correspondents watching feared blows might bring their tragedy to an ignoble climax. Abruptly Smigly-Rydz turned, walked away. The Foreign Minister stood irresolute for a moment, walked to the other end of the platform, to be interned a few days later, like Smigly-Rydz, by the Rumanian Government. Despairingly Warsaw fought on; the ghost of Poland would haunt Europe for many a season; but their Poland was dead...
...true that, hideous though local scenes were-a shell lighting on the crew of a pillbox, a riddled fighting plane screeching to its crash, a forest suddenly illuminated at night by roaring red dynamite, a man crawling back through the grass to an aid station-they were as nothing compared to what could & would take place when one side or other turned loose its full offensive power. When & where that offensive would come remained inscrutable at the end of the war's third week, but major stirrings and preparations, monstrous massing of men on both sides, boded cataclysm soon...
...showfolk readers last week was that war had completely stalled Europe's $3,000,000-a-year commercial broadcasting business, conducted mainly from Luxembourg and Normandy for British audiences, who get no commercials from their BBC. Big day for Radio Luxembourg, Radio Normandie and other "outlaw" stations has been Sunday, when the prim BBC goes completely Sabbath. On Sundays, the "outlaws" used to pour forth musical and variety programs acted and recorded in London and air-expressed to the foreign transmitters, briskly dinning Britishers with radio commodities like Alka-Seltzer, Lux, Pepsodent, Kraft Cheese. For a Sunday hour, Luxembourg...