Monday, Jul. 24, 1939
It Is Said
Last week French newspapermen got the shock of their professional lives. Two of them were arrested for having been in cahoots with foreign propagandists. French journalists, sensitive about their profession's reputation, were spared the unpleasant task of reporting the arrests in detail because of fear of the official secrets act. But rumors of spies, Nazi agents, alarmists, panic-mongers and scandals they could print. They printed so many that papers were crammed with vague reports of the doings of "30 highly placed Paris journalists," "two Germans," an unknown investment broker, two German princesses and 150 others rumored to be involved in an undescribed government inquiry.
In the midst of so much detail on the work of unidentified people, all that was definitely known was that under military order police had locked up Loys Aubin, news editor of Le Temps, and J. Poirier, ex-employe of Le Temps, now working in the advertising department of Figaro. As both Le Temps and Figaro explained that neither man had anything to do with policy or management, typewriters all over Paris banged out sensational but remarkably unspecific disclosures. They wrote of the beautiful Austrian Countess, C. B., "prominent figure in fashionable salons," who got across the border into Germany just in time. Unnamed secret policemen conferred with Scotland Yard. A suave and charming investment broker ("known in political circles throughout Europe") ran luxurious offices in the Place de la Madeleine, had $13,250,000 in Nazi gold to spend, used two or three clever and beautiful women, two clever private detectives, and a Dictaphone, in carrying on his devious and expensive work.
Favorite dodge of the authors of this spooky reportage was to link their stories to the activities of Otto Abetz, recently expelled Nazi agent, credited with organizing the pro-Hitler "France-Germany Society" and with having directed a pro-German press campaign during the Munich Crisis. Left papers added a new touch by substituting the initials of recognizable prominent Rightists, instead of the conventional Mr. X, as having been caught in the dragnet. As stories grew to first-class scandal proportions, Premier Daladier stepped in, warned newspapers that real or imagery revelations of the Government's press inquiry would be considered penal offenses.
Infected by the general excitement, U. S. foreign correspondents became fairly spooky themselves. "There is fairly reliable talk," cabled the Chicago Daily New's Edgar Ansel Mowrer at 7-c- a word, "of check stubs being found signed by a certain German. There is much talk of a certain French Deputy. Various members of the always peculiar 'French-German Committee,' among whose members could generally be found champions of giving Fuehrer Adolf Hitler a free hand in Eastern Europe--naturally only by coincidence--have found sleep more difficult, it is said."
This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.