Monday, Jun. 22, 1942
MR. SMITH GOES TO LONDON
Because of censorship nothing was printed at the time about Foreign Commissar Viacheslav Molotov's historic, incognito visit to England. TIME'S Correspondents Stephen & Lael Laird, cabled this description of the visit from London last week.
Molotov stepped out of a Russian plane on to a British airfield under a grey, damp sky. He wore a padded suit and flying helmet. The giant four-engine bomber was, according to an R.A.F. officer, an "eye opener." The crew was so numerous that those on the ground began wondering when the queue of men jumping from the plane would end. The crew immediately formed two ranks and, at the word of command, donned overalls and began servicing the craft. They explained that this invariable practice of Russian flying crews on landing made sure their plane was ready for further action immediately. Though the highest quality of aviation gasoline was brought for refueling, the Russians insisted on testing its octane capacity before pumping it into the bomber's tanks. They could identify British and American planes at the field with uncanny accuracy. Their particular favorite was the Hurricane, which they called "Hoorican."
Molotov went off in a seven-coach special train, which Ambassador Maisky boarded halfway to London. On the outskirts of London, at a small suburban station set in the fields near a few houses, the station master and one porter were the sole attendants. A Daily Mirror photographer had gone to this suburb on this morning to get a spring picture of gamboling lambs. The lambs were shorn just before his arrival, so he returned, pictureless and disgruntled, to the station and was astonished to see the meeting of Molotov and Anthony Eden. Molotov smiled broadly as, grey-suited and hatless, he stepped from the train in a faint drizzle.
Eden took Molotov under a large black umbrella and led the way to nearby motor cars. The Mirror photographer got pictures of the great occasion which were "officially confiscated." Police officials regarded the lamb story with strong suspicion, grilled the photographer and conducted a discreet inquiry of the entire Mirror staff.
To inquirers, Molotov was "Mr. Smith from abroad." In Whitehall he was always referred to as "The Visitor." Word was sent to sentries and other officials that no questions were to be asked about the identity of the man who hurried in & out of No. 10 Downing Street and the Foreign Office. He and the other Russians stayed at Chequers [the Prime Minister's official country residence, not used much recently by Winston Churchill] and commuted to London daily by car. Molotov's few extracurricular engagements included a visit to the King with Eden, a fighter-station visit with Churchill while operations were in progress, and a trip around London with Maisky, which was ostensibly to see the blitz damage, but during which Molotov was most interested in seeing the people on the streets, who did not recognize him.
Most of the seven meetings were held in Eden's room at the Foreign Office, where Molotov and Eden spent their working hours around a small table, with Molotov's secretary, M. Pavlov, doing some interpreting, Maisky doing most of it. The treaty was initialed at the Foreign Office in the quiet shop-shut
London of the Bank Holiday, Whitmonday, while a gusty wind blew the cold rain down Downing Street. The next day the formal signing, with Churchill's gold-bound pen, took place in Eden's red-leather-chaired room under a bust of the younger Pitt.*
After Molotov's return from America, a crowded House of Commons heard Eden's announcement of the treaty. Mrs. Churchill, Mme. Maisky and Mrs. Eden, in light spring coats against the chill, windy sunshine outside, sat together in the Ladies' Gallery, while across on the right Maisky was joined by Ambassador Winant in the Distinguished Strangers' Gallery. Observers believed that if Churchill had made the statement he would have aroused the House to more enthusiasm than the rather pedantic, high-voiced reading of the impeccable Eden. Said one political correspondent: "If it had been an Admiralty statement, the old man would have waived protocol and made it himself."
However, if ever a man deserved to make public a statement, it was Eden and this was the statement. The greatest credit for this agreement goes to Eden.
He has courageously, patiently tactfully and skillfully worked toward it. He is this week's hero in Britain. Eden told Molotov that by far the most important thing was complete Russian trust of the British alliance and intention. He induced the Russians to give up their demand that they be promised the Baltic States (Latvia, Estonia and Lithuania). And Eden suggested an alternative treaty that was the basis of the one finally signed.
Second honors go to Maisky, who has been the great interpretative bridge of Britain to the Kremlin. The loudest "hear hears" followed the tribute to "the valuable contribution to Anglo-Russian understanding made by Mr. Maisky over a long period of years." Many M.P.s looked up toward the very popular Maisky, who sat looking like a faintly amused sphinx with his dumpling body relaxed against the stiff-paneled wall, his hands sprawled on his knees, his black-shod feet propped up on the iron fretwork at the bottom of the gallery railing. He did not change his expression, but wiggled his right foot during the cheering.
At the end, the decorous, moderate cheers were interrupted by "Uncle Arthur" Greenwood, who unfolded his loose-jointed self to ask Eden to tell the House "and suspicious persons outside the House whether, in these negotiations, any secret understandings have been come to." Eden said there had been none, "of any kind whatsoever."
The House rustled and started to rise, but stopped when the familiar white thatch of Lloyd George bobbed up from a front bench on the fight for the historic occasion's last word:
"As one who has labored for over 20 years to establish a good understanding between Soviet Russia and this country, I felicitate the Prime Minister and the Foreign Secretary and the Government upon the accomplishments of this treaty. Had it been a fact some years ago, many grave blunders in foreign policy would have been avoided. Not only that, this war could never have occurred."
*Who, in 1805, made an agreement with Alexander I of Russia and who six months later, shortly before his death, boasted: "England has saved herself by her exertions; and will, I trust, save Europe by her example." Nine years later England signed the Quadruple Alliance.
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