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The Brussels Post, 1960-04-14, Page 4DOWN WE GO — With this blimp-shaped vessel, "Trieste," scientists hope to probe deeper s yet into the ocean's canyons. Designed by French deep see 'expells Auguste" and Son Jdcques Piccard, the device is being lifted onto a freighter at San Diego, Calif., for a voyage to the 35,000-foot Marianas Trench In the Pacific. seesseseete CHROME HUBCAPS?.— When this Scorpion jet interceptor comes toinn ti:la at Tyndall. Air Force gase, observers do a double take., 'T/Sgt. Elfon klusmati, checks elf pressine in One a the tikinebt'White ildevkiti tires: 'k' sMPzi (dastadian etritionerkeillesteephoteS) CNR OPENS NEW- RAIL LINE IN 'QUE EEC Continuing' its historic development role, danadian National Railways marked another transportation milestone October 28 when the first train from Chibouganiati hi tiOrthetti Quebec tumbled into Felicien in the Lake St john area, 183. miles to the southwest. Weictiiiiing scene, shown below; ditir hundreds of residents of the region to the St. Petidoi station as President bollard Gordon, WAV-, itig from the otigitio Cabe itiohod the diesel-hauled train to a 'step, Amlong the on shown a.t left, above, Were, left to tight:- quohc•;e Minister of Roads Antonio Talbot, Mr. €401,,:t.,11, Mayor Rodolphe Lefebvre. 0j. 8t„ Vedal TtaitsportAinister Ceorgeliees, and 'Jean-Nod ittemblay, MP for Roberval:,Chibongainan, rich in Mineral reetitieteaf Was Iinked by rail with OSIR system two years ago. Opening the lid* link brings Cliiboligairittil 200 nif16,0:08detolVotittealt, Opens up the heavily forested area northwest of St. koliolori;NOvi, slectioxi cost $16,666,60 tc .boil oaf iligoest "Eor" Keeps War At Boy The roar of gunfire filled her ears, In lulls between the Pound- ing she heard the :clanking of tank tracks, the crash of falling masonry, the screams of the doomed and the dying. Yet she was 900 miles from the stricken city -- listening to its death cries in a roomy, high- ceilinged ball where once lovely women had danced with hand- some escorts, She sat quite still, her eyes glued to the panel of dials and knobs before her, The noise of battle came crystal clear through her headphones. She closed her eyes for a brief moment. It was the only emotion she showed. Then she turned a switch and the carnage was recorded tor posterity on a wax cylinder. That woman was the first per- son in the West to have a graphic picture of what the Russians were doing in Budapest during the Hungarian uprising of 1956. The Soviets had closed the frontiers of helpless Hungary." They blocked all telephone and cable contact, But they had no control over the air waves, And every word they or the Freedom Fighters spoke on the air wag picked up in that former ball- room. To-day that ballroom houses the largest "ear" in the world. It is run by the BBC, but it provides the Government, In- telligence Bureaux and propa- ganda experts with information that is vital to Britain. Officially, it is called the Moni- toring Service, A cold name for pulsating, ever-changing patterns of world events. The service is housed in imposing C-eversharri Park, near Reading, Berks, Fantastic tests were made to select the site. It was close enough to London — an hour by fast car — to provide a speedy service of secrets the "ear" plucked from the air. But it was also far enough away from the capital's industrial belt to guarantee near-perfect recep- tion, Outwardly, the place looks like another of those stately -homes. But few visitors drive up the wide approach to Caver- sham Park. For there are many secrets heard inside the building. Reports that often affect Gov- ernment policy, the movement of troops, even the peace of the world... During last year's Middle Zaet crisis, Russia bombarded Western leaders with stiff Notes Saying war was near. But while this was going on a remote radio Station in Russia announced that Khrushchev was off on a rally- round-the-flag tour c41. Central Aussie. He was going to talk About agriculture. The station dismissed the desert trouble In SALLY'S SALLIES leef,Xem-, 'Don't waste color film until / get a good Wien summer tan." a few Werde. It became clear that the eisarss of war was re- m dt During tiu re eh iii flagdad when the leive, was &peed the first real news was. picked up by an Arab-speaking man moni- toring Iraqi stations. It enabled the West to move speedily. Those e but two esmomles of how vital the service is- There o. nothimi it misses, It listens to all the radio keyholes of Europe Russia — in fact, every- where. It can do this through a 'small army of translators, "news evaluators." technicians, a fore et of aerials, a multitude of teleprinters. receivers, record- ers and radio teletype machines. But the key to its success are the monitors. There are 200 of them, work- ing side by side in round-the- clock shifts. They sit before a long bench that runs down the length of the former dance hall, On the bench , are banks of receiving sets. Yet even clueing peak listening time — from 5 pen. until 3 a,m. — there is a deep silence over the room, in- tense concentration as each monitor listens, for news from thousands .ormlies away, There are thirty-five differ- ent countries to listen to, lt,f,any countries have a score or more radio stations. And often the monitors listen to and record four million words daily. Drama comes suddenly, It came to an -Egyptian-speaking monitor on a quiet afternoon in 1957. He was tuned in to Radio Alexandria, listening to President Nasser rabblerousing a Moslem crowd. It was violent, purple-passage nonsense,- full of wild cries, typical of Middle East politicans. Suddenly three revolver shots cut into Nasser's boasting, There was a sudden hush. Then, from 3,000 miles away, the monitor heard he deep baying of the crowd. Above the roars of panic and fury could be heard a hys- terical Nasser shouting for or- der, Within minutes a report of the attempted assassination w a s flashed -to Whitehall. It gave Cabinet Ministers the first real sign that Nasser was not uni- versally popular. Many a world "scoop" might- ates from Caversham, where the whole system is highly geared to cope in seconds with world- shattering news that may come at any moment into the waiting, watching, listening m o n i tors' headphones. The monitors themselves have to pass an exhaustive security check. They must be fluent in the language they will monitor. .And their virtues read like a catalogue for the Ideal Man or Woman. Calmness tact, accuracy, lack of prejudice, controlled emo- tions. Those are just a few of the things the monitors must have. They still tell the story of the exiled Italian who was monitor- ing Rome Radio during the last war, In between the dance mu- sic, propaganda and a welter of non-essentials, came the bambshell: "Mussolini has re- signed!" It was one of the most sensa- tional items of the war. And the monitor, forgetting his control, let out a whoop of delight, He was given a brief glance by his colleagues, then they turned back to their sets. Red-faced, the monitor turned back and resum- ed his vigil. A Complete Story by Donald F. Featherstone "And those little birds were waiting on the window ledge every morning, right through the winter!" As her voice died away, the old lady smiled gently at her listeners and settled herself more comfortably on the pillows at her back. The young nurse, a towel-covered instrument tray held forgotten in front of her, called with a start that Sister was somewhere around, and bus- tled away. Around the bright, airy ward the remaining occupants lay motionless for a few thoughtful moments before returning to ,their knitting, letter-writing and reading, still picturing the peace- ful, nostalgic scene brought to life by the old lady's voice. She represented the mental picture that everyone kept of departed loved-ones — silvery hair, kindly, unlined face, a warm smile and a clear voice exissessing an ageless quality. -She was a lovable personality, with a fund of pleasant anec- dotes that warmed the heart and induced none of the boredom usually associated -with the ram- bling stories of the elderly. She told of happiness and com- fort among her treasures, of minor crises in her compact lit- tle house( of the habits and mis- deeds of her black cat, Timmy — and the birds he so fruitlessly chased, Unrealized, Mrs. Gemmell's tales brought a kind of serenity to their minds, made sentimental by weeks of incapacity in hos- pital beds. Because of its smallness, the Cottage Hospital fostered an in- timate, friendly feeling between staff and patients, but no one had ever before made such an impression as the little old lady in the women's orthopaedic ward. She was an ideal patient, un- complaining and grateful for every little service, She rarely mentioned her accident except for an indirect reference to it during a story about her gar- den, when she spoke of her fall on an icy patch. Since her hus- band's death some years back Mrs. Gemmell had resolutely re- fused to leave the pleasant house in which she had lived out her married life to be cared for by her sons and daughters. She efficiently managed her household tasks, kept the garden in immaculate condition, and regularly trotted off on her daily shopping expeditions un. til ill-fated day when she went out to fetch her coal from the -shed in the garden. Found some time later by a neighbour, she was rapidly transported to the hospital, where an immediate operation was needed to set a fractured leg, Pain-killing drugs kept her quietu for a few days after the operation, but she gradually merged into her normal cheer• - fulness as time went past. Mrs, Gemmell soon charmed her ward-mates and did much to lighten their boredom, Although she was eager to return to her own beloved familiar surround- ings, she realized that a great deal of effort was required be- fore the happy day arrived on which she would go home. It was with pleasure. tinged with slight apprehension that she welcomed, one day, the effie cient sight of Miss Garton, the white-coated physiotherapist, After examining her leg, the physiotherapist'announ'ced that tomorrow they Would' get her up in wheelchair, Waiting long enough to note the swift nod of agreeMent from the old lady, she event on: "And the gnickett, Way in Which :you: tan help is by /neatest of the otercises that t am going to show yeti And which I Want you to' Cid as much is vett can, In that way you will build up strength, so that when we , get you up on crutches you'll be able to move around with strength and confidence." Mrs. Gemmell pluckily car- ried out instructions, knowing that in that way lay the direc- tion of her home. She was told that a stainless steel pin had been placed in her thigh-bone that would enable her to bear her body weight per- fectly after a while, but until then she must not place that foot on the ground, It made her nervous when she was told on the next morning she would be tried on her crutches, but only hopping and no weightbearing on the injured leg. When the phsiotherapist ar- rived next morning, she was car- rying a gleaming pair of adjust-. able crutches. Mrs. Gemmell was carefully helped from her bed until she was standing erect, with the padded part of a crutch under each arm. She felt very unsteady and terribly nervous, but gained assurance from the firm grasp of the phsiotherapist, Having been Instructed in the art of using the crutches without putting any weight on her injured leg, she made her first attempt to walk. She found it difficult, the spirit was willing but the flesh very weak, and her progress along the ward was halting, witnessed in painful silence by her watching wardmates. After a few minutes, Miss Garton realized that the old lady had had enough and the waiting nurse brought up a wheelchair into which she sank back thankfully, For the next few days the pat- tern remained much the same. Mrs. Gemmell made very little progress, although she obviously tried -very hard. Wednesday morning brought the weekly round of Mr. Mac- kay, the surgeon; leading a pro- cession composed. of Sister Ran- dall, Miss Garton and staff nurse, bearing the large envelopes that contained X-rays. The surgeon's friendly smile as he arrived at her bedside did much to allay Mrs. Gemmell's nervousness. She returned it a little uncertainly and listened intently as he spoke -to her: "You should be able by now to manage those crutches enough to go home, Mrs. Gemmell, but Miss Garton and Sister feel that -you won't be able to manage on your own just yet." The old lady, smiled confident- ly; "Oh, I'll manage somehow.. I've got lots of friendly neigh- bours who'll drop in and help me." The surgeon pursued his lips: "I'm afraid that's not good enough. You see, we are rather afraid that you won't be able to look after yourself 'sand that you may have another fall, Wouldn't it be possible for you to go and live with one of your Children?" "They've got their own lives to lead," replied the old lady. "They don't want me pushed on to them." For a few moments there was silence; then, speaking quietly, Mr. Mackay said: "We wondered if you would consider going into an Old People's Home, where you, would be well looked after and quite happy, I'm sure." Mrs. Gemmell looked from face to face, horror in her eyes: "Go to an Old People's Home? But that means that I'll have to leave my little house — what will happen to my furniture, to my treasures„ my poor little Timmy! Oh, he, I could never do that!" hastily, Mr, Mackay broke in: 'Vow, don't upset yourself, Mrs, Gemmell, we'll leave It until next week and see how you are then." It Was 4 changed Mrs, gem- melt that faced the physiotherap- ist. later that day. Crone was the gentle smile and the patient air. She struggled desperately to handle the crutches, to propel herself along smoothly and un- aided, Again and again, she mur, muted, sometimes aloud: °F know I can do it . it $004118 as though it only needs -a little click in my leg to make it free and painless!" Her 'frantic efforts to eucceed brought tears to the eyes of on- lookers. By now the story of her struggle had spread through the small hospital and orderlies, nurses and -walking patients would try to be around when she was walking, to encourage her with smiles and cheery conver- sation. If ever a group of peo- ple willed someone to succeed they tried at the. Cottage Hos- pital, and s the :old ,lady did sim- prove. Her Muscles became just that little bit stronger, ,her exercises attained a Thythm that pleased Miss Garton and, above all, her walking became much steadier until, on the fifth morning, she was able to walk unaided. One more day remained, just twenty-four hours in which, she could save her home and all her beloved belongings, because on Wednesday morning Mr. Mackay would be around again. Around her the ward lay in eemi-darkness; only the deep breathing of the sleeping pa- tients could be heard, -Since the lights had been extinguished, Mrs. Gemell had slept only spas- modically In her waking periods she did her • exercises, moved her ankle, relaxed and contracted her thigh muscles until they ached, ignor- t ing the pain that was slowly building up around the fracture site. The old lady desperately worked to rescue her little world. She murmured: "It only needs a little click in ray leg . . . just a little click. . ." She worked her limbs to the rhythm of the words until she' felt that she was slowly winnings' A stab of pain shot from her hip and flooded over her body like hot water until it settled, around her chest up in constrict- ing band. For a few moments, she was frightened and struggled , . . and then she felt in her leg that "click" for which she had longed, The pain drained away like a lit- tle summer wave, reluctantly leaving a gently shelving sandy beach. Her eyes felt lighter, they possessed an airiness that en- abled her to move them freely. Drowsily, she murmured ees: herself: '"Thank 0.4. 400 it! 1.70-marrow they'll see that van walk as • well as ever they'll let me go to my litt4 home." With a =tented sigh, the old. lady sank back Into • the soft:bed, clothes and -closed her eyes; she bad to be strong for to-morrow! Mr. Mackay, • the constultant eurgeon,'e;,'"elked into the stuffy warmth of the hospital ball, and bade the sisters a cheery good morning, Sister Randall looked up at • him; "We're a bit miserable around here this. morning, Mrs, 'Gemmell, the •dear little old lady, died in her sleep last night." Ft•orn "Tit-13its." This Hunting is Really Strenuous It is often called the most strenuous pastime in the world, Only a few people take part in it to-day, but it was once popu- lar among many European royal- ties, including the late Emperor Francis. Joseph of Austria. It involves getting up before dawn in November or December, elimbing fir-covered mountains of immense grandeur for hours and then patiently waiting to take a shot at a shy, and very wary, horned creature, two-and. a-half feet high in a chestnut- brown coat, on a precipitous ledge 1,000 yards or more away. Have you guessed what this perilous and dying pastime is? It's chamois hunting. Reports from the mountains of Europe, which these sturdily built animals inhabit, state that very few are being shot nowadays. "A chamois at more than 500 yards seems like a mouse on the mountainside and in hunting hint you often run the risk of plung- ing to death in a chasm your- self," said one former hunter, "Chamois are amazingly agile and their acute sense of sight, smell and hearing enable them to elude most hunters with com- parative ease," When alarmed, a chamois utters a shrill whistle which sets the whole herd moving swiftly off. It is believed that some chamois live to be twenty Or even twenty-five years old. Hunters have seen them flee to the most inaccessible places by a series of prodigious leaps across chasms and up or down the face of almost perpendicu- Aar cliffs. When feeding they post a sentinel who warns of the ap- proach of danger by stamping his feet. The largest sailing ship ever built in Canada was the W. a Lawrence, named for the man who built her at Maitland, Nova Scotia, in the 1870s; 275 feet long on her *deck, she was the world's biggest wooden sailing ship. • Winner of a Silent Battle