Winds of Fear

Late last August Europe went through its last great pre-war crisis--terminated by war in Poland and the west. Late last November Europe went through another less spectacular crisis--terminated by war in Finland. Last week Europe was in the midst of another crisis.

The seriousness of the latest crisis was not that it made further war certain--this might be but another false alarm--but that it threatened the safety of nearly every nonbelligerent nation in Europe.

The neutral peoples of Europe could in some cases guess how it threatened only from the frantic efforts of their Governments. In other cases good cause for fear was all too apparent.

As the teeth of neutrals chattered, bitter cold hit the continent. Icy winds from the steppes blew across the Balkans, sending the temperature to --30DEG. In The Netherlands the earth was hard as brick; canals and flooded lands, which Holland counts on to defend her, were sheets of ice. On Belgium's eastern plateau, where the twelve modern sunken fortresses of Liege guard the route the Germans once took, caked snow crunched under the boots of marching troops. Ice crept out from the shores of the Baltic and the Gulf of Bothnia, where Russian planes bombed Sweden's Kallaks Island (see p. 30). And with the cold came fear.

Low Countries. What news stirred the high commands of Belgium and The Netherlands was not divulged. All autumn the Belgians had worked feverishly to fortify their northern frontier, and the Dutch drilled dynamite into their roadside trees, against the much-feared German invasion which might come when the ground froze. Suddenly last week, the tempo changed, Belgium ordered the fourth stage of mobilization (the first three stages were completed last September), calling up 75,000 more men and bringing her armed strength to some 600,000. Trucks loaded with supplies and soldiers rolled through Brussels while civilians piled sandbags around buildings and factories. Messengers rushed through every Belgian city, summoning officers and men from theatres, cafes, homes. Brussels had a partial blackout, something she never had during last autumn's scare. French-speaking residents of Eupen and Malmedy (ceded by Germany after World War I) were evacuated to the interior. King Leopold became active Commander in Chief of the Army.

The Netherlands Cabinet held a special meeting under old Premier Dirk Jan de Geer, decided that it would cancel all Army leaves. Since the usual Army leave is four days a month, this increased the Army's strength by some 10% to 400,000 men. The usually phlegmatic Dutch thought it necessary to point out that frozen canals were a very good defense indeed, since troops could be machine-gunned crossing them. It sounded like whistling in the dark.

Britain, which will have to defend France's northern flank if the Germans invade Belgium, canceled Army leaves. Paris, always buzzing with rumors of wars, set Jan. 20 as the date of attack--a relatively reassuring sign that nothing would happen.

Scandinavia. In Moscow the official news agency Tass released a ten-day-old exchange of notes between Russia, Sweden and Norway. It brought out clearly how close Scandinavia had been, and still was, to war. Russia demanded that Sweden stop sending volunteers and war materials to Finland. It added that the Swedish press "carried on an impermissible campaign" against the Soviet Union which could be explained only "if Sweden were in a state of war with the U.S.S.R. or was preparing for war." To Norway, Russia was even more threatening, declaring that "actions of the Norwegian authorities . . . may lead to undesirable complications and disturb the normal relations between the Soviet Union and Norway."

Sweden's and Norway's replies, said Tass last week, were "unsatisfactory." Norway replied that Russia's complaints were based on inaccurate information. Sweden was tougher: "The Swedish people cherish ardent sympathy for Finland. . . . In the opinion of the Swedish Government neither its position as regards the press nor its actions in any other demand provides the Soviet Union with a pretext for accusations against Sweden."

Last week the two Kings of Sweden and Norway spoke up boldly. Surrounded by stalwart Life Guards cloaked in the gaudy uniforms Charles XII designed for them over two centuries ago, King Gustaf V opened the Swedish Riksdag by declaring: "Finland's involvement in armed conflict touches the Swedish people. . . . Sweden feels an obligation to give Finland's brave people every material humanitarian help which is possible while heeding its own position." Finance Minister Ernst Johannes Wigforss indicated what form that heeding would take. He presented the first 2,000,000,000-kroner (about $476,600,000) budget in Sweden's history. Of this sum more than half was to be for defense.

Opening Norway's Storting. King Haakon VII was less solicitous for Finland but not a jot less concerned with defense. "I hope," he said, "the new year will bring peace for all human beings, especially for our brother country in the east. . . . Training for the Army will follow the same directive as during past years, but there will be some enlargement. Naval defenses will be changed and enlarged."

The Balkans. All last week the Rumanian Ministry of Propaganda in Bucharest issued official denials to nosy correspond ents. It swore that King Carol II was not out of town. Actually, His Majesty speeded down the Chaussee Kisseleff from the Palace to the Royal Railway Station one morning along a route on which one newsman estimated there were 176 picked secret policemen, one every eight yards. The police were told that the King was going hunting with His Royal Highness Crown Prince Mihai on the royal estate near Timisoara.

Instead, Carol and Mihai showed up near Vrsac, a Yugoslav town close to the Rumanian border, which is noted for its good wines and hunting. There, they were met by the polished, cultured, Oxford-educated, pro-Ally Prince Paul, Senior Regent of Yugoslavia, and the Yugoslav Premier, Dragisha Cvetkovitch. Of all Rumania's Balkan neighbors, Yugoslavia is its only real friend (Rumania annexed territory from the others after World War I). Rumania and Yugoslavia, once members of the French-inspired Little Entente, are now members of the Balkan Entente, which is scheduled to meet at Belgrade next month. Dictator Benito Mussolini is trying to line up Yugoslavia with Italy and Hungary in a pro-Italian, anti-Soviet group.

Knowing that the other Balkans will not care to help Rumania defend herself from Russia, Carol had good cause to consult Prince Paul for help. Though little news of it leaked, his Government was just as frantically reinforcing its frontiers as the Belgians and the Dutch. Thousands of reservists called to the colors completely overtaxed the capacity of the Rumanian railroad system. Not only was there no standing room in railway cars, men clung on the outside steps in below-zero weather. Some of them grew numb and were found in the morning dead along the right of way.

Even the Hungarians, who are thinking about a new military alliance with Italy, got the wind up. After all, Hungary now has a common frontier with Soviet Russia and Italy is far away. In Moscow, according to the official Soviet news agency Tass, Hungarian Minister Dr. Joseph Kristoffy called on Assistant Commissar for Foreign Affairs Vladimir Potemkin and formally denied "tendentious rumors" that the recent Italian-Hungarian talks in Venice were "directed against the Soviet Union." Since these "rumors" had originated in Hungarian official circles in Buda pest, the incident showed that Hungary too was frightened by the crisis.

New Fronts? Thus Europe's chill winds seemed to blow war nearer on three fronts. The Balkans appeared, in spite of their fright, to have some guarantee of peace in Germany's desire to keep Rumania at peace and Russia's preoccupation in the north. In fact, the crisis on the three fronts interlocked, for if the war in the north is kept limited, Russia may feel free to attack the Balkans. In reverse, if Norway and Sweden are drawn into war with Russia, thereby cutting off Germany's much-needed supplies, Germany might feel forced to make a new attack in the west --especially if Great Britain and France were allied with the Scandinavian countries. It was by no means certain that any of the neutrals would be sucked into the war. But last week's crisis showed that it was possible for World War II to spread over more of Europe than World War I ever reached.

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