at imperialist power. In our might we had done what we could to
thwart Russian ambition; now they seized the opportunity to disable a
rival.

Congressmen and senators shredded the air of their respective chambers
with screams of outrage. In every speech, "Stab in the back" found an
honorable if monotonous place. Zhadanov, boss of the Soviet Union since
the death of the sainted Stalin, answered gruffly, "War is no minuet. We
do not wait for the capitalist pigs to bow politely before we rise to
defend the heritage of Czar Ivan and our own dear, glorious, inspiring,
venerated Stalin. Stab in the back! We will stab the fascist lackeys of
Morgan, Rockefeller and Jack and Heinze in whatever portion of the
anatomy they present to us."

As usual, the recurring prophets who hold their seances between
hostilities and invariably predict a quick, decisive war--in 1861 they
gave it six weeks; in 1914 they gave it six weeks; in 1941 they gave it
six weeks--were proved wrong. They had been overweeningly sure this
time: rockets, guided missiles or great fleets of planes would sweep
across the skies and devastate the belligerents within three hours of
the declaration of war--which of course would be dispensed with. Not a
building would remain intact in the great cities nor hardly a civilian
alive.

But three hours after Elmer Davis--heading an immediately revived Office
of War Information--announced the news in his famous monotone, New York
and Chicago and Seattle were still standing and so, three days later,
were Moscow and Leningrad and Vladivostok.

Astonishment and unbelief were nationwide. The Empire State, the
Palmolive Building, the Mark Hopkins--all still intact? Only when
commentators, rummaging nervously among old manuscripts, recalled the
solemn gentlemen's agreement never to use heavierthanaircraft of any
description should the unthinkable war come, did the public give a
heartfelt sigh of relief. Of course! Both the Soviet Union and the
United States were nations of unstained honor and, rather than recall
their pledged word, would have suffered the loss of a dozen wars.
Everyone breathed easier, necks relaxed from the strain of scanning the
skies; there would be neither bombs, rockets, nor guided missiles in
this war.

As soon as the conviction was established that the country was safe from
the memory of Hiroshima, panic gave place to relief and for the first
time some of the old spirit was manifest. There was no rush