War Nerves

Jostled by bombs, Big Ben--according to jibes of Berlin's imaginative radio propagandists--slipped a cog last week, struck thirteen times during an air raid.

Some real jostling took place in the House of Commons at the foot of Big Ben's tower--the bitterest name-calling, insult-shouting, fist-shaking free-for-all that has taken place since Winston Churchill became Prime Minister. The row started when the Prime Minister declined to answer questions on a secret fifth-column investigating committee headed by onetime Air Secretary Viscount Swinton, political godchild of Stanley Baldwin, who had been denounced by Laborites as a consistent Tory bungler. Doubting Viscount Swinton's competence and fearing that he might use his Committee against liberal elements in Britain, Laborites had insisted on placing questions concerning its activities on the Order Paper.

"There were overlaps and underlaps," said Churchill; "I therefore asked Lord Swinton to undertake this task. . . ."

"He failed in another job," interrupted Communist Willie Gallacher, referring to Lord Swinton's record of inactivity as Air Secretary under Baldwin and Chamberlain.

Angry, the Prime Minister retorted: "One has to be very careful how one judges failure, especially when one's own record isn't to one's credit."

Why, asked tall, spinster-like Independent Austin Hopkinson, had the Prime Minister insisted on making a mystery of the Swinton Committee?

Bouncing to his feet, Churchill snapped: "If my honorable friend had paid half the attention to the full . . . statement which I've just made that he was accustomed to give in obstructing my efforts to get this country properly defended before the war, I wouldn't have to answer this question."

Shaking with fury, Hopkinson, who is known for his fine war record and constant advocation of a large air force, turned to the Speaker: "I ask your protection, Mr. Speaker, against this gross and lying innuendo. . . ."

Cheers and boos rocked the House, above them Churchill's voice barking: "I'll take the liberty of sending the honorable gentleman a copy of one of his interventions. . . ."

Putting in his oar, New York-born Laborite Ernest Thurtle shouted above the hubbub: "Has it escaped notice of the Prime Minister that many . . . who are pressing this question are rather lukewarm about prosecution of the war?"

No sooner were his words out than fiery Welsh Laborite Aneurin Bevan bawled: "Isn't it time that certain honorable Members shouldn't act as pimps of the Governments?"

Blimpish Conservative Sir William Davison attempted conciliation: "Is it desirable," he began, "that Democracy be made a laughingstock by such a frivolous attack on the Prime Minister?"

Outshouting him, M. P. Thurtle hurled at M. P. Bevan: "If you'd like to repeat that outside, I'll deal with you."

By the time order had finally been restored by vigorous gavel-pounding it was evident to the entire House that Hitler's war was getting on Britons' nerves.

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