Fateful Hour

TIME'S Stockholm Correspondent John Scott flew to Helsinki last week on his first visit since Finland's spring negotiations with Russia (TIME, April 24). He found the Russians still seeking a political solution that required the least military expenditure, the Finns still convinced that they had a bargaining position despite the Red Army's advance (see WORLD BATTLEFRONTS). Cabled Scott:

The Russians want an independent Finland with a friendly government. Neither now nor later do they want to annex Finland. At this moment and because of the overwhelming military necessity to liquidate the Finnish front as quickly as possible, the Russians are willing to sign an armistice on approximately the March terms--with any Finnish government except the present anti-Soviet combination. But the Finns have not been able to form such a government.

False Hopes. Last week, three days running, Erik Boheman of the Swedish Foreign Office called Soviet Ambassador Mme. Alexandra Kollontay in Stockholm to tell her that the Finns would form a new government any minute now and please to remain close to the phone. As the Finns continued to fumble, the Swedes' embarrassment became more & more acute, for they are almost as anxious as the Russians are to get the matter settled. The Russians, watching Finland writhe, her defensive positions shattered, a large part of her army knocked out and her politicians still arguing about a new government, are inclined to ask: "What is this? A debating society?"

The Russians' principal objective is Berlin. What they want to do in Finland is liquidate the war on this front, shorten their front by some 600 miles, free 30 to 50 divisions, drive the Germans from their North Cape positions (from which they are still seriously harassing Allied sea lanes), free their Baltic fleet to cut German communications to Norway and northern Finland. The Russians believe these aims can be achieved without the military occupation of Finland. But they believe that the present Finnish Government must go.

Blasted Hopes. During the past fortnight the position of the Finnish Government has been dynamited. The army's defensive position has been broken and the military now admit that the eastern Karelian front between Lakes Ladoga and Onega (which they had previously considered an excellent natural defense) is actually almost indefensible. At the crucial moment, the Germans failed to deliver military aid.

But the Germans may yet issue orders to General Eduard Dietl similar to those given Field Marshal Friedrich von Paulus at Stalingrad: fight to the last man; kill as many Russians as possible over as long a period as possible. Dietl may try to form a quisling government in northern Finland and start a civil war. This would tie up considerable Russian strength for some time. A Russian attack on Dietl and his force of typical occupation troops (older men and boys) may be expected as soon as an armistice with the Finns is signed. Dietl, the "Hero of Narvik," is not expected to give up without a struggle.

Sabotaged Hopes. Several obstacles stand in the way of a new Finnish government. The Tanner clique, bent on remaining in power, is putting up candidates like Foreign Minister Sir Henrik Ramsay, whom it can control, sabotaging all attempts of the opposition to put up a man like Juho Kusti Paasikivi, whom the clique cannot control. The Germans are exerting extreme pressure to keep Finland in the war, promising tremendous reserves and naval assistance, threatening a fate worse than Italy's if Finland quits now.

I asked a number of Finnish acquaintances why no new government had been formed. They said: "Our military situation is awkward, even bad; but it is not by any means critical. We shall continue to fight." I believe the people higher up in the Government are less confident. They know that the token German aid which arrived during the last few days will not be decisive.

Last Holiday? When I reached Helsinki last Saturday, I found the city virtually deserted, not because of any political or military considerations, but because it was midsummer's weekend, a holiday which the Finns take most seriously, even in wartime. Nearly everyone had left town, though the 200 members of Parliament had been ordered to remain on call. There were no newspapers. Groups of two or three or four German soldiers, sailors and airmen hurried importantly along the deserted streets, just as they had in April. There were a few more, perhaps, but not many. At Abo and Helsinki Airports I saw German planes.

Most Finns this weekend, here and in the surrounding country, are living along quietly, and fighting their war. But into their stubborn heads the meaning of the invasion of France is gradually seeping.

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