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Flesherton Advance, 4 Jan 1950, p. 7

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* » * * * • * * * t » « • « « » â-  * m * m T \ * -» r t « » 4f r • ♦â-  r • « • » • : } • t 4 * 4 «- â-º * * J, 1 « « « >â-  * » *. « ♦ • t • A *â-  4 t 1 < y •» « A nt> • * » ' A « y » ♦ a « « Heart - Rending Stories Of Happenings Behind Iron Curtain On« of ttif nii-)i iicaii-ieiiding (tories coming from bthinfl-tlie Iron Curtain is tlie pliglit of those seek- ing to get out. In this article Ed- mund Stevens â€" veteran. Moscow correspondent of The Christian Science Monitor â€" now writing from Berlin â€" describes the sad case- of the Russian-born women who niar- ied foreigner? and were denied the right to leave their country with their hu.-l)and>. A current Moscow anecdote con- cerns Ivan ~Petrovich. who is sent abriradâ€" on ''kakmandirovka" (offi- cial business assignment i. From \\ arsaw. his first stop, he wires the home office ''Long live Poland, free and independent." Next, from Prague, he wires "Long live Czechoslovakia, free and indcpon- dent!" Tlie cables arc repeated in the same vein a.~ Petrovich journeys to Romania. Bulgaria. Hungary, and other satellite countries. Then, after a period of silence, conies a message from Switzerland that reads: "Long live Petrovich, free and indepen- dent!" That's the last Moscow hears of this particular Ivan, according to the anecdote. To Soviet wives of foreigners, try ing for years to join their htisbands abroad, to husl>ands struggling to free wives and children whom the Soviets claim. thi> story has tragic poignancy beyond all luiiuor. To them the Iron Curtain is no abstract Churchillian metaphor, but some- thing very hard and impenetrable. Let the record tell the story. It includes the names of some 350 Soviet wives of .-Vmerican citizens who have sought permission to leave the country in the past nine years. Of these, 15 women married former members of the American Embassy staff in Moscow. Ninety-seven of the others are wives of I'liited States veterans. .Apart from the embassy cases, the great'^ majority are from former eastern Poland, the Baltic states, Ruthenia. or Bessarabia, and were married before 1939â€" that is to say, before these territories were annex- ed by the Soviets and Soviet citizen- ' ship automatically were conferred on all the inhabitants. « â-  t â-  • â- As the Soviet Union never iias admitted the rigiit of expatriation, the rule is that Soviet citizens are permitted to go abroad only in the interests of the governineut. Per- sonal reasons, however compelling, cut no ice with the MVD (secret police) officials who pass on exit visa applications. .Nevertheless, up until a few years agu one or twn Soviet wives of -American citizens were let out every year. But since August, 194o. even tlii> tiny trickle has been cut off. In another move in this direction, on Feb, 15. 1947, the Soviet Gov- ernment issued a decree prohibiting Soviet citizens from marrying for- eigners. This grotesque attempt to legislate affairs of the heart is not something the Soviet leaders are proud of or care to advertise, for the announcetiient was buried iu the cohnnns of the Official Journal of the Supreme Soviet, something lew persons ever read. To my knowledge, the decree never has been published or re- ferred to in the Soviet press at large. When 1 mentioned it to Russians their first reaction was one of utter incredulity. When correspondents tried to R«:iid the story abroad it was killed by the censor. What makes this law especially brutal is the apparent intent to ap- pl> it retroactively. It works like this. When a wife wha has been waiting years for an exit visa goes round to the visa department for a routine inquiry on the status of her application she is received by a "sympathetic" offi- cial, who, across the baiae green desk top where her file folder lies open, offers her "fatherly" advics: "Are you really quite sure you want to go to America, citizeness?" he inquires solicitously, "especially after the news from there.' Why, with the crisis coming on, yoqr hus- band may lose his job any day and you yourself be out on the street, starving." After a pause to let this dire warn- ing sink in. he adds: "Besides, you as a Russian will be under suspi- cion everyAhere. The Un-American Activities Committee will be after you. You won't have a moment's peace. And remember, if you go, it's for good. Never again can you set foot on your homeland." Another pause, during which the ofiicial thumbs through her file. When he resumes talking, his kind- ly tone has steeled slightly: "Cit- izenesj, it may take a long time to get your e>dt permit â€" a long time." (Outright re usals are not in ac- cord with usual Soviet practice.) Tiien. In a more persuasive note; "You are young, attractive. Is it resUy worth vrsscing the best years of your life 4or the sake of a for- eigner? Is he really worth it? What's wrong with our' Soviet fellows? Look around you!" Ne.tt, with a wrathful crescendo rising to thundering climax: "X cannot understand how you, who claim to be a loyal Soviet citizen, can be prepared to renounce yoiu" birthright, to desert tlie socialist motherland that raised and educated • you. for an American!" If. at this point, the victim shows obvious signs o^ mental anguish, the inquisitor suddenly relents: "Here. here, Citizeness, I did not wish to hurt your feelings. I simply was trying to help you with sound ad- vice â€" not as an official but as an older fellow countryman. Go home ->-think it over." .\t hoiue. the ciiances are that if tlie wife happens to live with her parents, and lilcely as not in tile same room, siie is the target of coiista!U nagging. Her family choruses: "It's all very well if you choose to wreck your own life and queer yourself. But you've no rigiit to ruin our lives. By getting yourself mixed up with ioreigners. you've brou>;lit us all under observation â€" you'll get us all into trouble. It's time to put an end to it. I'orget about that .America. You'll never see it anyway." Possibly, she and her family will also be needi-d iu some way by the house manager â€" registration for- malities. lew persons have the moral stam- ina to resist such brow'ueati.ig iu- defiiiitely. Sooner or later, all but the most steadfast wives have "vol- untarily" broken down and filed tor divorce. In such cases, the stringent Soviet divorce laws suddenly are relaxed. .V process that usually takes many mouths is completed :u a few days. The requirement that both parties mu^t appear before the court is summarily waived. I'o crc>wn her huniiliutioa. the wife also is "persuaded" to write x lett-t to I'ravada or Izvestia public- ly repudiating her husband, de- nouncing his country in the ap- proved iiiaiincr and voicing her "wi.sh" to remain in the beloved Soviet hoiiielund Tilings have not gone well with the few girls who stubbornly have clung to their hearts' desire; There was the Soviet wife of a certain .American foreign service oM'icer. I laving tried but failed to get a Sov- iet exit visa for her and their small child, he had to leave upcrs termina- tion of his Moscow Bssignmen;. ^^ix months later the house man- ager â€" a profession which in Russia includes the duties of police infor- Itttitig This One Out â€" Deiiiimsiraiiiig toiitething n«w in water ikiiii(t. Bud I.eHch, ntoiinirtl oi\ his favoritt «hait' ov«r a pair o' W«t«r skis, )fors skintining over the wttM'. Bud haa promised ♦o try a rovking cliair l«sh*d on two sh^rka for his i»axt deinnn. Just Plain Pooped â€" For his alertness in spotting the human interest qualities in this scei.c and for his skill in following through with the camera. Rudolph Vetter, photographer, was awarded a S2.^ pri^e. The att'tude of the dozing damsel. 7-month-old Sharon Hart, shows how completely tuck.^red out she was after an exciting all-day tour ot the Fair and Livestock Show. The Smile That Convicts By Louisa Lee Outlaw On and ou droned the voice of the prosecutor. .Above him, on the benc'i. t!'e judge seemed half asleep eyes drooping wearily. At an oaken table, tlie defoise attorney, a small, stringy man. slouched beside t!ie defendant. In the jury bo.x. tl'.e jury s'niited restlessly and coughed and s'.ijfted again. It was the last day of the trial. and they were all tired, tired of tiie vo!iimes of words that had been poured into tlie record, tired oi tiie tnomitai-is of evidence that weiijlied on :lieir minds, and yet receded whenever ihoy tried to pluck from the mountain one clear fact. Only Juror Xnmber Five, a woman, looked attentive. She sa: upright, s'-oulders independent oi the s raight-backed chair. l-"roni a distance of twenty feet she looked young. From a distance of ten feet she looked ahrost youjtg. She was dressed in tlie relentless, gloomy perfection of the prosperous busi- ness V. Oman. Periodically her eyes shifted from t'oe prosecutor and gazed avidly at t!ie defendant. Juror N'uniber Five was .Mrs. Ediili Bolton. S'ne was a Madison .Aveiuie ituerior de'orator. The de- fense attorney knew those things about her. and felt he knew many more. .\s the prosecutor rumbled on, the defense attorney turned to the defendant and whispered. "Re- member what ! told youâ€" keep smiling at Number Five." T!ie defendant's broad srhoulders moved irritably. "Okay." The defense attorney drew iu a hoarse breath. "But re- member â€" it isn't enough that we know you're innocent. She's got to know it, too. I told you. the jury's going to listen to her. You'd better smile, boy." The defendant, charged with first-degree murder. glanced at Juror .VuiiTlJer Five. Painfully, he lined his lip.s. Kdilh Bolton cang^it titt smile ind was thorougiily conscious of what had prompted it. .A bribe, she (Iionght. Oh. he's a ll;re>V(l one metâ€" came to the flat she shared with her parents and announced she 110 longer could be registered there and must move out immediately. When she pleaded that she had no- where tt> go. the house manager sneered: "Cio to the .Americans; they'll locik after you" She was given lodging and a .lob as housekeeper at an embassy billet. One day a week later she failed to return from a trip to the market, and has not been heard from since. The customary diplomatic represen- tations to the Foreign Ministry have produced the customary silence. Wives of .Americans and Briions are by no means the only victims of the no-exit-visa policy. The cas» of the son of the former Chilean am- bassador in Moscow was brought before the United Nations, Another rinvolvsd the Russ*aa wtf* of Orcek ambaatador, la aaither katance did ambastadofM rank •arrv \\ <•â- ;'.; â-  men; iili the visa dep.irt- She turned quickly back to the garrulous prosecutor, tried :o listen to him. tried to wriggle away from t!;e nicmory of the smile. But riie smile persisted, hung before her in the air â€" I'.ie full, firm lips, curling a little at the edges, curling sweetly like a girl's . . . Cheater's lips, liar's lips. Jimmy's lips. But sh.e mustn't let herself flv off: she must be fair. She had al- ways been lair. It wasn't the de- fendant's fault that he looked like Jimmy. I: had notiij;:^ to do with the case. S'.ie would base her deci- sion on factual evidence, comb through the ma/.e of circumstances, pluck out the telling fact . . . She fell her eyes easing back to the defendant at the oaken table, twelve feet from where she sat. Once more she saw the tiiick eye- lasiies. the iiigli. unliiied forehead, the disarming, wavy hair. Smooth- faced, pretty-faced, full of smiles. The kind, who smiled from the cradle up. smiled and got what he wanted. s:iii!ed and plundered . . . Kdith Bolton jerked !ier shoul- ders, snapoed off tiie thought. It was iier business to li-sten to tlie prosecutor--to listen hard, with judicial ears. ".And the State has shown." the prosecutor said, "that the defend- ant robbed and caused the death ot a man ;vho had he'riended him â€" a man wiio. out of the goodness <ji his heart, had given him a de- cent job. started iiini on a ca;- eer ..." \es, tiuii was the way it worked. You took the smiling charmer in, you gave him everything 'v\ ex- change for nothing, 'ii'ou bought his clothes, you fed him. you put his name on your sho!> window: "James and Kdith Boltou. Decora- tors. New York and .Miami." You made up papers â€" "James and Editii Bolton. Associates" â€" and in a breath's time you signed away hah" the business you'd sweated to build. F.ach week you wrote a check for him. his share oi the profits, the share for which he never worked, "What do f know about t'lis fancv- paiits business?" Smiling, smiling, pocketing the check . . But that was Jimmy. That liad nothing to do with the defendant. She'd have to clear her ijiind, keep it clean and open, review the facts one by one . . . Fact \ umber One: The defend- ant had been in the .Army for three years: he was a veteran of North .Africa and ,Anio. Easy !o imagine him in unifonn, ribbons on liis chest, overseas cap cocky over his forehead, over the dipping black hair . . . Jimmy had had ribbons, too. and a jaunty se^t to his cap, and he had smiled at lier over the heads of ihe pretty young host- esses at tiie Canteen. And later that night, they hud talked ^'aml talked, and she had been faint with delight when he touched her . . . But tiie defendant. She had to think o!" the defendant. Fact Num- bsr Two: The defeiHi;int had been honorably discharged from the Army. He had gotten a job with a c!otliin>j iraniitactnrer. a; toity-five dollars a Vkeek. Forty-five dollars wasn't much to live ou . . . Jimmy had spent almost as aiu«ii on a single shirt. "Forty dollars for one shirt!" She had stared at h'm, waiting for tiie ex^iianation tltat didn't come. Just the smil*. the hand on her shoulder, weaken- ing her. "What's mine is youri, baby." he had said, "and vice versa right? For better or for worse . . ." Fact Number Three: The defend- ant had a wife and child. Forty- five' dollars a week wasn't muOh for a wife and child. A coat for his wife, tiie defendant had said, a woollon coat to keep her warm. But h s employer had caug-ht him in t!l'e stockroom, the stolen eoat over his arm. They srruggied, the prosecutor said, riie employer's gun went off. Two hours later, tiia en-.oloyer died at Bellevue Hospital. But the defense had a different story. There iiad been no strjggis, the defense claimed. The defendant had started to run from the stock- room. 'V\\e employer pursued iiitn, gun in l-and. .At the " bottom of the stairs, the defendant turned, said. "Okay â€" I give up," but it was too late tlien. The employer had tripped â€" come tumbling down the stans. and Irs gun went off. ' Who could prove the defendant hadn't wrestled with the man? 'Who could prove tiie defendant had in- tended to give himself up? There were no witnesses. .And the story about tiiie coat â€" a coat for his wife. That was a shrewd excuse, designed to make the jurors' heart swell with pity. The innocent, uplifted face, the danglii:.^ forelock. "I wanted a v^arni winter coat for my wife . . ." They knew how to find excuses, the smilers. With Jimmy it had bean his mother, wiien tiie check- ing account was overdrawn, it had been for his motiier. When he got a bank loan lie could never pay back, it had been for his mother. His mother â€" who was sliin-waistad and blonde and twenty-two. What did he give her now? Whom was he robbing now for his mother: "The defendant has a clean rec- ord," the defense had said. Excel- lent character, the. .Army records had claimed. A fine boy, the chai- acter witnesses had added. Devoted to his wife, the defendant's neigh- bors had agreed. But wli.it did neighbors know? "\ou and Jimmy make such a sweet couple." her friends had said so oftenâ€" her older friend.s, that is. They were tiie ones he didn't smile at. the ones who couldn't possibly know the nights she spent listening to his ugly flippancies . . . and worse. [lie iii.ijhts -ho ,jvnt alone ... But she !;.id to listen to the pro- secutor. The prosecutor's voice was high, indignant, as if he knew sh« was slipping away from hitn. Edith Boltoii straishtened. dutifully fast- ened her eyc5 on his flushed ve- hement face. "We have only tiie defendant's word." the prosecutor said. "We have only the defendant's wordâ€" the word of an admitted thief â€" against the very tangible evidence of death. How much can you trust the word of a man who would steal from an amployer who had be«n kind to him, exceedingly g«i- erom to liiin:" Edith BoIUMi glanced past nhe prosecutor's waving hands, e.nce again sought out the deieiiUcint. and then let iier eyes drift to t:ie defendant's wife. She was a thin, pale woman, anguished, exhaustetL A few years older than the de- fendant,, and afraid of those years . . . "Look, graiuima," Jinuny mi said, "you may ba goaig houie to- night, but I'm not. .N'ow. don't get on your high horse. For better or for worse, you know . The defendant's wife was gazuig at the defendant. Edith Bolton saw the woman's worshipping, owning eyas. Women had always looker t.hac way at Jimmy. Everywhere, always. The customers m her own shop. The trim, stupid assistant decora- tor. The sa^^isig, avaricious rug buyer â€" sven the ' tsventeeu-year- old stock girl with the :iangiug sHp. the run-down heels. Rich or poor, rheumatic or infantile, they all looked at Jimmy. But she had to stop straying, Edirh Bolton told herself sternly. S'ne mustn't think o( Jimmy in rhe back of rhe shop, the stock girl in his arms. She musn't think of anytiiiiig now but this trial There was a decision to make- there was no time left for debat- ing or wondering. In five or ten minutes the proset:utor would end his summation. The jurors <>. ould retire. They would listen to her, because she was tiie strongest. .She wasn't tired at all. They complained of tie heat, she didn't even feel it . . . Determindedly. siie leaned for- ward, surveyed the courtroom. She glanced at the judge, at the droop- ing tipsuff in the comer. Her eyes travelled to the defendant, and then to the table with its pile of State's evidence. Once again, she checked off eacii article, weighed us srg- nificance. The tagged, greasy gtm . . . the fingerprint oliarts which proved nothing . . . the coat. The ooat tor his wife. I: was a sturdy, coarse-grained wool. She knew fabrics, could ap- praise t'leii- value to the dollar. Thirty-five dollars, retail. Com- pletely styleless. a revohag coior. She had alwavs hated i'v-e eu'-ne red . . . Si'.e stared at tiie co«: ror a moment, and then, with a sweep- ing, victorious feeling she couldn't explain, she looked at the de.end- ant"s wife. The woman iiad losig, frizzed hair â€" orange red. â- Rut he wouldnt do th:i;: lier mind closed in on the thought, clamped around it. He woulcki't give a redhead a red coat! Not the defendant â€" he'd know better tlian that. Even ii he were stealing, even if he were pressed for lime, he wouldn't pick a red coat for i redi'ead. He'd know better -liis kind always did. There might be some men who wouldn't k-iow â€" but not rhe., defendant. He'd 'tcnow. He'd know, iier mind insisted. Vou could tell by looking at his face, at the fickle, thick-lashed eyes. :he quick, jaunty sniiie. He'd be just tiie kind who would know aiiout women's clotiies. the way he knew about women. She was sure oi it. He'd be tiie kind who woiiid ba proud of his taste, arrogaii: i^out n like Jimmy. A coat tor my wife. On. .• lal been slirew-d. oiit defeudaii:. He had almost convinced her. But the coat hadn't been lor his wi:e at all. The fire-engine rtd coat iiad beei; lor sotiie other wc»iuaii â€" someone younger, slimmer-waisied, someone blonde . . . I iar. Liar from b«giniiiiii< t« •n.i. Having made up tier taiud. Edith Bolton didn't bother to lisien te i-he final words of t^e prosec.iior. She sat back in iier diair. tVehng light and easy. .And not at all bitter, she told herselfâ€" not at all like a woman wlio iiad received her final divoice decree in tiie morniii}; mail. Weapoii Wedding â€" , .a Herrick. 1*^. a bride of one day, charged that her husiiaiid, F"rancis V.. Byers. 29. of l>ea Moines, la., forced her to man/ hint at gun point. Byers said she eio'ieii with him to Te-ka- tii;i'i. \.-ii; .. williii;.''v JITTER 1«P»('l.L WKNCff^ >M«l,aTNC I.FAD- Mta MM FLAYS Ttm mt» onsAN NOW TUMM ThS CRMM MNiur r ao ttmix ntSN • Qua ixkwcE DwtcitMi is an BXRBWr . .. artp mTO the AuDin>irn/Ni. AMO WATtoN HIM IN ACTION By Arthur Pointer at- »' MiA.svjH'Lfe nic PRc-Dcce*: ihrEifvitlvs TSl tENILf.WEN of r;IB RRESS . .

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