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Into The Darkness (1940) by Lothrop Stoddard

Into The Darkness (1940) by Lothrop Stoddard



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Title: Into The Darkness (1940)Author: Lothrop Stoddard [1883-1950]* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *eBook No.: 0300731.txtLanguage: EnglishDate first posted: May 2003Date most recently updated: May 2003Production notes: Words in italics in the bookare enclosed by underscores (_) in this eBookProject Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed editionswhich are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright noticeis included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particularpaper edition.Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check thecopyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing thisfile.This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictionswhatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the termsof the Project Gutenberg of Australia License which may be viewed online athttp://gutenberg.net.au/licence.htmlTo contact Project Gutenberg of Australia go to http://gutenberg.net.au--------------------------------------------------------------------------A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBookTitle: Into The Darkness (1940)Author: Lothrop Stoddard [1883-1950]Into The DarknessNazi Germany TodayCONTENTSI. THE SHADOWII. BERLIN BLACKOUTIII. GETTING ON WITH THE JOBIV. JUNKETING THROUGH GERMANYV. THIS DETESTED WARVI. VIENNA AND BRATISLAVAVII. IRON RATIONSVIII. A BERLIN LADY GOES TO MARKETIX. THE BATTLE OF THE LANDX. THE LABOR FRONTXI. THE ARMY OF THE SPADEXII: HITLER YOUTH
XIII. WOMEN OF THE THIRD REICHXIV. BEHIND THE WINTER-HELPXV. SOCIALIZED HEALTHXVI. IN A EUGENICS COURTXVII. I SEE HITLERXVIII. MID-WINTER BERLINXIX. BERLIN TO BUDAPESTXX. THE PARTYXXI. THE TOTALITARIAN STATEXXII. CLOSED DOORSXXIII. OUT OF THE SHADOWINDEXI. THE SHADOWAll Europe is under the shadow of war. It is like an eclipse of thesun. In the warring nations the darkness is most intense, amounting toa continuous blackout. The neutral countries form a sort of twilightzone, where life is better, yet far from normal.In nature, an eclipse is a passing phenomenon; awe-inspiring but soonover. Not so with the war-hidden sun of Europe's civilization. Normallight and warmth do not return. Ominously, the twilight zone ofneutrality becomes an ever-bleaker gray, while war's blackout growsmore and more intense.I entered wartime Europe by way of Italy, making the trip from Americaon the Italian liner Rex. It was a strange voyage. This huge floatingpalace, the pride of Italy's merchant marine, carried only a handfulof passengers. War's automatic blight on pleasure tours, plus ourState Department's ban on ordinary passports, had dammed the travelflood to the merest trickle. So I sailed from New York on an almostempty boat.First Class on the _Rex_ is a miracle of modern luxury. Yet all thatsplendor was lavished upon precisely twenty-five passengers includingmyself. Consequently we rattled around in this magnificence like tinypeas in a mammoth pod. A small group of tables in one corner of thespacious dining salon; a short row of reclining-chairs on the longvista of the promenade deck; a pathetic little cluster of seats in thevast ballroom when it was time for the movies--these were the soleevidences of community life. Even the ship's company was little inevidence. Save for the few stewards and deck-hands needed to lookafter us, the rest did not appear. Now and then I would roam about fora long time without seeing a soul. The effect was eery. It was likebeing on a ghost ship, "Outward Bound" and driven by unseen hands.There was not much to be gleaned from my fellow-passengers. Most ofthem were Italians, speaking little English and full of their ownaffairs. A pair of American business men were equally preoccupied. Forthem, the war was a confounded nuisance. The rapid-fire speech of aChilean diplomat bound with his family for a European post was toomuch for my Spanish. The most intriguing person aboard was a loneJapanese who beat everybody at ping-pong but otherwise held himself
aloof.Back aft, Tourist Class was even more cosmopolitan, with a solitaryAmerican set among a sprinkling of several nationalities, including ayoung Iraki Arab returning to Bagdad from a course at the Universityof Chicago. He was a fiery nationalist deeply distrustful of all theEuropean Powers, especially Soviet Russia with its possible designs onthe Middle East. In both Tourist and Third Class were a number ofGermans, mostly women but three of them men of military age. All wereobviously nervous. They had taken the gamble that the _Rex_ would notbe stopped by the English at Gibraltar, Britain's key to theMediterranean. In that event, the men knew that a concentration campwould be the end of their venturesome attempt to return to theFatherland.Passing the Straits of Gibraltar is always a memorable experience.This time it was especially impressive. We entered aboutmidafternoon. The sky was full of cloud-masses shot with gleams ofwatery sunshine. At one moment a magnificent rainbow spanned thebroad straits like a mammoth suspension-bridge. On the African shorethe jagged sierras of Morocco were draped in mists. By contrast, themountains of Spain were dappled sunlight, their brown slopes tintedwith tender green where the long drought of summer had been temperedby the first autumn rains.At length the massive outline of the Rock of Gibraltar came into view.It got nearer. We forged steadily ahead on our normal course towardthe open Mediterranean beyond. Would the British let us pass? Nobodyknew but the ship's officers, and they wouldn't tell. Then, whenalmost abreast of the Rock, our bow swerved sharply and we swung inpast Europa Point. The British were going to give us the once-over!Hastily I climbed to a 'vantage-place on the top deck to view what wasto come, my Japanese fellow-passenger following suit. As the _Rex_entered Algeciras Bay we could see Gibraltar's outer harbor crowdedwith merchant shipping. When we got closer, I could discern by the bigtricolor flags painted on their sides that most of them were Italian.Seven Italian freighters and three liners, all held for inspection. Wecast anchor near the _Augustus_, a big beauty on the South Americanrun.As the anchor chain rattled, my fellow-passenger turned to me with abland Oriental smile. "Very interesting," he remarked, pointing to theimpounded shipping. "Do not think Japanese Government let this happento our steamers."We continued to view objectively happenings that did not personallyconcern us. Not so the bulk of the ship's company. The sight of thosemany impounded ships stirred every Italian aboard. Officers assumedtight-lipped impassivity and stewards shrugged deprecatingly, butsailors gathered in muttering knots while passengers becameindignantly vocal, especially as a large naval tender approached usfrom shore. It was filled with British bluejackets and officers withwhite caps. I also spotted two military constables, which meant thatthey were after Germans.As the tender swung alongside just beneath my 'vantage-point, a youngItalian fellow-passenger strode up and joined us. Since he had already

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