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No correspondents could confidently guess the main topics of the Führer's talk. But they had a lot to talk about—Hungary, where Nazi economic dominance has steadily increased; Yugoslavia, where negotiations between Croats and Serbs were broken off, whose Premier made a mysterious flight to Italy; Spain, where General Franco set up a new Cabinet; Italy, where economic conditions were reported increasingly bad and where some mysterious reversal upset the maneuvers of the Army of the Po; The Netherlands, shaken with political crises, a far-reaching bank failure, and alarmed for her Pacific Empire; Russia, where the Anglo-French military mission began its staff talks with top-ranking Russian officers; Japan, where trouble was developing in the Cabinet over the question of adherence to the Axis; Great Britain, where, with a truculence that astonished visitors, Britons were parading their naval might and displaying confidence in any impending struggle; Rumania, where natives, irritated at charges that they are lukewarm in their resistance to aggression, are now declaring they can resist alone; Turkey, key to the Near East and the Eastern Mediterranean; Poland, unshaken by the struggle over Danzig, counting on its muddy roads to bog down motorized infantry in the event of invasion and on the spirit of its people to fight if necessary, to ignore provocations until it is.
War. Führer Hitler and his ally had a lot to talk about, because the Europe that spread before them is already at war. It is a war of words and nerves, a war fought with weapons so strange and novel that they make machine guns look like good old cross-bows—rolling barrages of slander timed to the minute; ceaseless bombardments of rumors, blankets of lies and alarms as blinding as poison gas; provocations exploding like mines before advancing troops; flank attacks of economic reprisals, feints with threats, promises, atrocities, radio broadcasts, newspaper assaults launched simultaneously and redirected at noon and at 6 p. m. each day; a war of barter deals, whispering campaigns, mystification, currency raids, posters, mass meetings, blackouts—weapons against which military men can only point their guns in vain. Military maneuvers are but an adjunct in this weird conflict. It has its positions that must be taken, its genius, Adolf Hitler, its victims, like Dr. Benes of Czecho-Slovakia, its troops, the hardened ranks of editors and orators, its battlegrounds, like Danzig, its staff headquarters, like Berchtesgaden. And it has its heroes.
Danzig. Checking every assault, and sometimes counterattacking, Poland, guided chiefly by Foreign Minister Josef Beck has shown Europe's chancelleries that much has been learned of the new war since Czecho-Slovakia was conquered by it. When Nazis interfered with Polish customs officials, Foreign Minister Beck countered by closing the Polish frontier to offending Danzig concerns. When Nazis threatened to precipitate a crisis by disregarding Polish authorities, he sent an ultimatum to the Nazi Danzig Senate, demanding that interference cease—but added a conciliatory offer to negotiate, postponing a showdown. When the Senate agreed to negotiate, the frontier ban was lifted.