Herbert George Wells, 79, Britain's cantankerous, senescent pamphleteer-historian, dug into his files, came out swinging with an updated version of a favorite theme: an attack on the royal family. In an article in the diminutive weekly Socialist Leader, he raised a pointed question: was the King involved in Mussolini's prewar financial support of British Fascist Sir Oswald Mosley? If so, "there is every reason why the House of Hanover should follow the House of Savoy into exile."
Everyone seemed to agree that this time old H. G. had really put his foot in his gabby mouth. Snorted Mosley: "Absolute nonsense." The Keeper of the Privy Purse (treasurer to the King) thought it "most amusing." Most Britons ignored it; H. G. Wells simply did not understand a king who was neither tyrant nor snob, who merely served his people as a symbol of their past, their pride and their good manners.
George VI of England became the first British monarch to crash Chicago-published Who's Who in America. Among 8,918 other newcomers to the 1946-47 edition: Joseph Stalin, Winston Churchill, Clement Attlee, Chiang Kaishek, Charles de Gaulle. Longest entry: International Business Machines Corp. President Thomas J. Watson's 155 lines, an alltime record. Baby of the book: nine-year-old Cinemoppet Margaret O'Brien. Missing: many generals and admirals, who had had two editions (1942-45) of glory.
Princess Elizabeth, as profiled by a friend recently turned journalist, looked more than ever like a pretty, highly eligible London girl of 20. She likes dancing, housework (especially washing-up), Errol Flynn, pink, the historical novels of Daphne du Maurier, medium-high heels, jazz (on a constantly playing bedroom radio), ginger beer (better than wine or liquor), hats. She is good at ballroom chatter; hasn't a car, but sometimes borrows father's; hands down dresses to sister Margaret Rose; takes it for granted that she will some day marry and have children. And she can cook.
Motions
Greta Garbo, shy nonpareil of the screen, boarded the Gripsholm for her first trip to Sweden since 1939. There were rumors that she planned to direct a Swedish picture (she has not played in one for Hollywood since 1941). Demure in a beige suit and hat, she gave reporters only a slow smile, a characteristically languid line: "I'm awfully tired. I had to get up very early this morning."
Field Marshal Karl von Rundstedt, generally considered Nazi Germany's ablest military strategist, wished aloud that people would stop referring to the 1944 Ardennes counterattack as the "Rundstedt offensive." It was entirely Hitler's baby, he said.
Benito Mussolini's wife & daughter, granted amnesty by the new Italian Republic, were now technically on the loose. But they were in no hurry to go anywhere. Daughter Edda Mussolini Ciano, who had grown fond of her "haven" on Lipari Island, hoped for a passport to Argentina, meanwhile talked about moving to Lucca instead of to her husband's native Leghorn, which might prove to be "too hot for the Ciano family." Donna Rachele Mussolini, Benito's widow, stayed right where she was—on the island of Ischia.
Emotions