Nasty Duel

Young Rumania, who is only as old as a middle-aged woman,* remembers Ion Bratianu as the Father of His Country. The land was profoundly stirred last week when Father Ion's able grandson George Bratianu, leader of the Liberal Party, had to fight a nasty duel.

Not nasty are most European duels, the duelists firing (by agreement) into the air, thus "satisfying their honor" and whetting their appetites for the customary champagne luncheon. But last week Socialite George Bratianu had on his hands Rumania's budding Hitler, the "Baby Fascist" Gregory Filipescu. Terms of the duel: pistols at 25 yd., to be followed if no one was hit by a duel unto death with sabres.

Since all the "Baby Fascist" wanted was advertisement, he consented to use old-fashioned muzzle-loaders. Confessed one of the seconds later, "We didn't put in much powder, we didn't tamp it down and we put in the bullets loosely, as you might say."

Such weapons might be uncontrollable, dangerous. But the duelists thought otherwise, touched shoulders back to back, solemnly walked away from each other until separated by the prescribed 25 paces, wheeled smartly around, took steady aim and loosed their loose bullets with a terrifying report--or were there any bullets?

There most certainly were! Everyone connected with the duel was firm about that point. To prove it George Bratianu showed a hole through which he said a bullet had entered his trousers and lodged there. He produced a bullet, smilingly declared himself unwounded. But he had been hit, agreed the seconds, so there was no need to duel nastily to the death with sabres.

*Born 1881.

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