Welcome to Moscow

The U.S. press had prepared (with crossed fingers) for its first mass invasion of Moscow.* Molotov, the soul of hospitality, had assured Jimmy Byrnes in December that everything would be done for the visiting correspondents; they could cover the Foreign Ministers' meeting as they had reported the Paris and New York sessions. And U.S. Ambassador Walter Bedell Smith had been assured that newsmen could "write with complete freedom on conference matters."

That assurance meant that correspondents must keep their eyes on the conference--and not go peeking down side alleys. Even so, 73 reporters, photographers and radiomen got set to sail or fly (round trip fare, $1,084) to Moscow. Then the Russians suddenly set a U.S. quota of only 20 (blaming it on the housing shortage). Last week the press was howling mad. In Washington a committee of correspondents spent three days trying to whittle down the press party, finally sent a priority list of 52 to State Secretary George Marshall with a strong protest against the "shockingly inadequate" quota. The New York Times and leftist PM, on the same side of the fence for once, suggested that the Russians either fix up some Quonset huts, or let the meeting be moved elsewhere. Even if Moscow gave in to Marshall's renewed protests, there were headaches ahead. For correspondents, Moscow was short on wire facilities and English-speaking censors. And the men on the scene might find, as foreign correspondents in Moscow had found before, that the Moscow radio could tell its version all over the world, before U.S. correspondents could hurdle the first censor.

*The permanent U.S. press corps in the U.S.S.R. seven.

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