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With a nice sense of psychologies, both British and Italian, new First Lord Sir Samuel had spectacular "sham battles" fought at Malta during the week. Simulating Italian bombers, British planes droned over Malta for three hours. On land antiaircraft batteries belched sheets of flame. British first-aid squads dashed about the streets pretending to succor the imaginary wounded, this bit of realism being frankly copied from Germany and Japan.
In the House of Commons same day there were cries of ''Hear! Hear!'1 for a judicious announcement by Sir Samuel Hoare that Britain will not abandon Malta. In other words, the wholly inadequate Malta defenses will be maintained as they are, for moral effect. Virtual abandonment of Malta as a main Empire naval base took place months ago when the major units of the British Mediterranean Fleet scuttled off to Alexandria (TIME, Sept. 30 et seq.).
To a great extent the new Lifeline of Empire is already tingling with British trade. Last week London newsreaders were assured that an amazingly large volume of British tonnage which used to go via Suez is now rounding Africa, with the further good news that so much is saved by not paying canal tolls that the cost is "about the same." Famed Hector Charles Bywater, usually considered the journalistic mouthpiece of the British Admiralty, came out with the great discovery, which would have been dismissed a short time ago as nonsense, that via the Cape of Good Hope it is only 10% longer to Melbourne, Australia than via Suez; only 37% longer to Hong Kong; 44% longer to Singapore; 51% longer to Calcutta; and a mere 77% longer to the "Gateway of India," Bombay. That His Majesty's subjects should be invited by Hector Bywater thus to rearrange the contents of their minds and fix on a new lifeline of Empire is fundamentally significant, "imperial and oceanic!"
Pomp for Hoare. Motto of the House of Hoare is Hora Venit, and last week it seemed indeed that the hour of Sir Samuel and Lady Maud had come. They were still in their big house at No. 18 Cadogan Gardens, but the estate agent's sign over their door read cheerfully: "LONG LEASE FOR SALE." An army of re-furbishers was busy in Admiralty House on Whitehall, cleaning and redecorating the official residence of the First Lord. Its 20 rooms are lofty, dignified and spacious, ideal for entertaining in the grand manner of the British Admiralty.
Mostly, the first Lord's official home is furnished with antiques of a quality which made them costly even when bought at auction by an astute namesake of the British Admiralty's famed Samuel Pepys. In the great hall, between gleaming white Corinthian columns, long-dead British Admirals look down from heavily encrusted frames. After running this gantlet, guests arriving for an Admiralty ball admire the graceful, branching staircase, pass on to the drawing room, its walls hung with paintings of the voyages of Captain Cook. The amazing gilded furniture is the cele brated "Fish Set" presented in 1815 as a memorial to Lord Nelson by wealthy John Fish, who had the chair legs carved as dolphins standing on their heads.