Another Year

London was tar black as the war year of 1942 began. The eddying, nearly solid crowd in front of St. Paul's could scarcely see its own faces as it waited for the midnight bells. No threat of an air raid spoiled the holiday, but the spotters, wardens and fire watchers, the steel helmets that the bobbies wore were reminders that London had been bombed, that she will be bombed again.

When the clock struck the crowd sang Auld Lang Syne. Then the people began to scatter, walking in pairs or groups past the gnarled skeletons of bombed-out houses. Most of them, men & women, were in uniform. They shouted "Happy New Year!" to strangers half seen in the dark, and they sang She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain. The Yankee tune, with its words Anglicized to Hi-yi, yippee, yippee-eye, was the latest craze.

For Britons, toasting each other at home or dancing in their favorite nightclubs, it was a strange celebration in a stranger time. Britain's Prime Minister was spending the last hours of 1941 in a train en route from Ottawa to Washington. Aristocratic Anthony Eden, the Foreign Secretary, was just back from a conference in the Kremlin. The ghost of Neville Chamberlain might well have rubbed its eyes.

Strange as it was, the new year seemed to hold more promise for Britons than either of the two that went before. Above all it promised what Britons have wanted most--powerful united action against the Axis.

For one thing, the Empire was knitting itself closer together to fight the battle of democracy. Churchill had sent a long New Year's message to Prime Minister John Curtin of Australia, and Supply Minister Lord Beaverbrook's newspapers were agitating for an Empire War Cabinet. The Daily Express editorialized: "Until we have made one united fighting machine out of the British Empire we can't expect to make one out of Britain and the United States."

Nevertheless, before the week was out, Britain and the U.S. had announced a unified Supreme Command for the Far East (see p. 17).

How Britain planned to work with the Russians, who have to date struck the most telling blows against the Axis, neither lanky Anthony Eden nor dumpy Joseph Stalin cared to say. But Eden happily told the British press that their talks had been "full, frank and sincere," went on to praise the "magnificent"Red Army which he had seen in action on the Eastern Front.

If Britain's war Government had made a New Year's resolution, its key word surely was "unity" and Britons could hope the year that began in darkness would end in light.

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