Panic swept through the satellite kingdoms of the Balkans like fire through an old-fashioned country hotel. Dimly in the smoke and confusion the watchers saw frantic Fascists rushing from window to window, seeking escape. In the Bulgarian wing the flames licked highest. In the Hungarian part there seemed still time; people were debating what to take with them, seizing the customary irrelevant knickknacks. The Rumanian section looked hopeless. Outside stood armed Germans, determined that none should save himself at the Führer's expense. Crouched silently among the Germans were tin Greeks, the...
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