"Until last week I was a respectable columnist. Butwell, foreign correspondents are like dancers and prostitutes. There is something bad in the blood."
In his New York hotel room last week, merry-eyed M. (for Marcel) W. (for William) Fodor, 53, one of the oldest and ablest of U.S. foreign correspondents, smiled happily and rubbed his hands. After a six-year absence he was going back to his Balkan beat, on which, he is perhaps the world's top expert, and he expected great things.
"By the time I reach the Mediterranean, I am convinced the Germans will have evacuated the Balkans. When this happens...