We saw hundreds of soldiers near the roads. We drove up eight thousand feet to the Furka Pass, where we had lunch. A couple of Swiss musicians entertained us with their singing and yodeling. Before moving on, some of us picked Alpine flowers. We descended the mountain, only to climb back up again to see the marvelous blue white Rhone Glacier. Such a sight is hard to comprehend or to describe. The bus driver stopped at the town of Meiringen for tea. At this point, I boarded a bus for Interlaken, and the others returned to Lucerne.
Rhone Glacier — tourists in lower right hand corner
In Interlaken, the busman said that my anticipated Hotel Bristol was closed for the season but that some other place had my reservation! He very kindly took me all around until we found the hotel that was expecting me. I had only been in my room ten minutes when I glanced out of a window and behold — the clouds had parted! There was the Jungfraujoch in all of its white glory! The lovely vision of shining whiteness with a faint pinkish cast appeared for a minute or two. The views of the Jungfraujoch are just like that — visible for a moment, and then hidden behind clouds once more. Tomorrow — if the weather continues fine — I am going to take a trip up to the top. Just the thought of it thrills me to death. After a delicious dinner, I skimmed through an American magazine here at the hotel. I just cannot wait to tumble into my comfortable white bed.
Date: September 23, 1938
Place: Interlaken
Weather: Continued perfect.
TIMELINE: new Czechoslovakian government mobilizes its army.
Today has been a perfect day with a perfect trip to the Jungfraujoch. As an old shopkeeper said to me tonight, seldom has there ever been such absolutely perfect weather for this trip. The awe-inspiring feeling of being in the Alps defies description!
We took a train to Lauterbrunnen then switched to a train for Kleine Scheidegg. In speechless wonder, we drank in the beauty of pine-covered mountains where crystal clear streams tumbled downward in miniature waterfalls. After passing by small Alpine villages, we were transported via steep cog railway, which ascended through a long tunnel up to Jungfraujoch! The railway through the tunnel was a grand feat of engineering. Having wondered how it would feel at 12,000 feet above sea level, I discovered that (except for a little shortness of breath after climbing steps) all was fine. It was absolutely necessary to wear dark glasses because of the bright sunlight however its warmth kept us from feeling too cold.
We rented some “snowshoes” which turned out to be high galoshes, and went plowing out into an entirely new world — all ice and snow. There was nothing but a wonderful feeling of freshness and isolation from the rest of the world. Everything was blanketed with extremely deep snow. We tramped around and admired the beautiful views below. Perched high on a peak, we enjoyed our box lunches, gazing off into unbelievable splendor.
View from the top of the Jungfraujoch
Now it was time to play! After visiting the blue-green ice palace, I sat on a sled on the ice rink while a handsome fellow twirled me around and around. Of course, this all ended with a snowball battle! Some of the folks went skiing, but I preferred to spend the time on other sports.
Exploring the Jungfraujoch
A group wanted to see the polar dogs so I tagged along. We descended on foot, and suddenly my left leg went all the way down through the snow bank! It was the strangest feeling! At the enthusiastic urgings of my fellow travelers, I took a thrilling dog sled ride along the side of the mountain and loved every minute!
Helen on the dogsled ride
All too soon, it was time to leave. On the bus to my hotel, I met Ed from Indiana. He and I had been visiting just about the same places. Our paths have crossed often but we have never noticed each other. Ed made me promise to come to the Casino Kursaal tonight. I dashed back to the hotel then hurried over to a street market which was about to close for the day. I purchased two cute hand carved wooden cake plates which had Swiss-movement music boxes inside. When you lift the plate up, the music begins; when you place it back on the table, the music ends after the tune is finished playing. It actually alternates between two different melodies! After much searching, I located a genuine Swiss dinner bell for Mother. The storekeeper was delighted that a foreigner would actually ask for such a bell because they were usually purchased only by the Swiss. The wooden framework was made in China, for which he apologized. He explained that it had to be carved in one piece and Switzerland did not have the right kind of trees for this technique. I had these things shipped to the RMS Queen Mary, and now wonder if I will be able to get them into my cabin on the ship!
After dinner, which tasted scrumptious to a hungry mountain climber, I ambled down to the casino and met Ed. We listened to a lovely orchestra until 10:30, and then went to another place for dancing. Ed told some wild tales of his travels in Russia. When I arrived at the hotel it was locked, but a nice concierge came down in his bathrobe, to let me in.
Date: September 24, 1938
Place: To Montreaux
Weather: Fine but vision not too clear.
TIMELINE: London considers precautions for air raids by setting up gas mask distribution centers. France is amassing troops.
This morning, I pulled up stakes at Interlaken and was off for Montreaux. On the train, I got to talking with the Wendell, an Englishman from Sidney Australia. Wendell plays a great deal of Cricket and travels about reporting on Cricket matches. We discussed everything under the sun while enjoying the lovely Bernese Oberland scenery. It was a marvelous ride along the sides of mountains, dipping down into valleys and up again. As we descended from the top of the final mountain, we saw the whole town of Montreaux laid out before us. Wendell had no hotel reservation so he tagged along with me to the nearby Terminus Hotel. The clerk assigned him a room right next to mine. It certainly was delightful to have a companion for sightseeing. We had lunch at the hotel and made arrangements for a motorboat ride around the lake and to the Castle of Chillon. As we approached the dock for our tour, up came an American girl named Lucille. She worked for NBC in New York City. Lucille turned out to be lots of fun, and the three of us enjoyed Montreaux together.
Approaching Castle Chillon by boat
An entrance to the Castle Chillon
Although one could see a veil over the distant mountains, the sun was shining and the lake was very blue. During our tour of the Castle Chillon we found out that it dates back in part to the eighth century. We saw the various rooms including the chapels, dungeons, and the torture chambers. After our return boat ride, we three relaxed in a tearoom beside the water. My smattering of French has come in handy as I have not encountered any villagers that speak English. After a walk through the town and making a few purchases, we returned to the hotel for dinner. After dinner, Wendell, Lucille, and I wandered down to the Kursaal Casino. One can find a casino in almost every city in Switzerland. It is a central amusement place. At 8:30 one can listen to an orchestra that plays excellent classical music. Guests sit at little tables and order coffee or drinks. During intermission, people try out their gambling skills. Wendell said he was going to try 5 Francs worth. After losing it all, he sheepishly returned to the concert. After the concert, there was dancing in the bar room, featuring a Hawaiian orchestra. For being an extremely tall man, Wendell was an excellent dancer. He took many turns around the dance floor, alternating between the two of us. I also danced twice with an extremely good-looking Frenchman, — an excellent dancer — who spoke no English. He seemed to be a part of the place, dancing a lot with the Hawaiian female performer. I felt very flattered when he asked me to dance with him when the orchestra played the last dance before closing.
When we started home, Wendell demonstrated the exact steps of the Lambeth Walk. We danced and sang all the way. By then, the natives knew beyond a doubt that we were crazy. Here too, we had to rustle the porter out of bed at 1:00 a.m., to let us in. And so, to bed!
Date: September 25, 1938
Place: To Geneva
Weather: Not
so good — rain in afternoon.
TIMELINE: the French government decides to commit to defending Czechoslovakia, if the Germans attack. Great Britain indicates that they would stand by France.
Lucille and I had a delightful boat trip from Montreax to Geneva. Upon my arrival, I was met by a representative of the hotel — to my surprise. He was the cutest man, whose eyes were just leaping with laughter. He carried the luggage on a bicycle and I walked over the bridge to my hotel. The room was furnished in a modernistic style. As my gracious porter labeled it — “Very American.” In the afternoon, we took a sightseeing trip in the rain. We visit numerous monuments and drove out to the place where the yellowish, dirty Arue River joins with the deep blue Rhone. We drove by the Palas des Nations. All nations of the world are represented here, except Germany. On the way home from dinner, Lucille and I stopped at a sidewalk café to listen to a delightful French orchestra. We tried to drink some beer — nasty stuff!
CHAPTER TEN
France, and Sailing Home on the RMS Queen Mary
Joining the Melee to a Standoffish Queen
Date: September 26, 1938
Place Dijon, France
Weather: Rain.
TIMELINE: during a speech in Berlin, Hitler declares that German-speaking citizens in Czechoslovakia are being mistreated. He makes demands for more territories.
There will always be a special place in my heart for Switzerland. The train to Dijon was so absolutely jammed, that I ended up being crowded in a car with seven French people who were talking at the top of their voices. The atmosphere was decidedly tense. Their words flew out so rapidly that my meager knowledge of French failed me. At 12:30 everyone stopped talking and brought out little parcels of paper — from whence appeared their lunches. I too, had my little parcel, so I ate right along with them. After lunch, they resumed their frantic conversations. It was still raining in mid-afternoon, when the train arrived at Dijon. At the direction of the kind baggage man, I managed to find my way to the Hotel de la Cloche. After walking around in the rain and noting the strange store names: Au Pauvre, Diable, Le Chat Noir, I purchased a silky slip and returned to the hotel. The dining room staff served a marvelous dinner this evening. Dijon is said to be the gastronomic center of France and it truly is. The 1926 Montrachet wine quickly went to my head! By 10 p.m., I could not keep my eyes open any longer.
Date: September 27, 1938
Place: Dijon to Paris
Weather: Mixture — fair in afternoon.
TIMELINE: Hitler now threatens war with Czechoslovakia, to claim the Sudetenland area .
It was a comfort to sleep in this morning. After a walk through Dijon, I visited the Museum of Fine Arts, which is touted to be second only to the Louvre. The museum was empty except for a guard in every room. I lingered a little too long with the paintings so had to hurry through the remainder of the museum because it was going to close at Noon. One guard approached me and warned; “Vous ’avez cinq minutes” “You have five minutes.” When the time was up, I returned to him and said “C’est midi” “It is noon.” He nodded his head and clickety-click he followed me down the staircase and through several galleries that lead to the exit. I was starting to lead a parade! Each room had a guard who was told “C’est midi.” He would nod his head, repeat it, and join us. Feeling like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, with all those moustaches marching behind me, I barely resisted the impulse to make a mad dash outside!
Now it was time to return to Paris. The Dijon hotel clerk said that my baggage could be taken to the railway station, but that I would have to find my own transport, since most of the taxi cabs had now been commandeered for the French military service! He said that France was as near to war as it could possibly be — without actually going to battle — and that the troops were partially mobilized. After wondering how I could possibly get to the railway station, I encountered a sympathetic French porter! He found someone to take me to the train that was headed for Paris. On the Paris train, I was in a stuffy compartment with a French couple holding a dog who constantly scratched himself. We came upon the remnants of a train crash, which blocked the track for an hour and a half. Since I did not know how long the delay would be, I sat there patiently until the ride resumed.
It really seemed like coming home, to return to the Roune Hotel. Mr. Roffati gave me our old room, too! Everything seems so familiar and comforting. After dinner at the Voltaire Restaurant — with wild strawberries for dessert — I washed my hair, prettied my nails and tumbled into bed.
Date: September 28, 1938
Place: Paris France
Weather: OK.
This is sailing day! After the familiar hotel breakfast, I finished some last-minute purchases, stopping just long enough for a scanty lunch of rolls and coffee. The train to the RMS Queen Mary dock in Cherbourg was to leave at 3:30, thus I needed to be at the travel office by 2:15. It was extremely difficult to find a taxi. Paris streets are usually so full of taxicabs that they can hardly move. I found one after twenty minutes, however it took a combination of the hotel manager, the chambermaid, and myself to corner it! The driver told us that not only had most Paris taxis been commandeered for military service, but that two-thirds of the porters at the boat-train station had been mobilized — and it was bedlam! He described how luggage was heaped in huge piles, with no one around to carry it!
As the cab headed for the travel agency, I became more aware of the frantic excitement on the streets. The sides of the buildings served as posting places for huge pieces of paper on which the official news communiqués were written — in longhand. Each of these communiqués had crowds of people standing in front of it. Upon my arrival at the agency, the travel man said that he expected his son to be called to service at any minute! It was a tense situation, all right. People were trying to leave Paris — trying to get taxis — and trying to get reservations. The French people were preparing for air raids!
I gave up trying to get a porter. Either you transported your own luggage to the train, or it didn’t travel with you! I felt sorry for the people struggling with large trunks. By this time, I was toting three suitcases and some packages. The travel agent drove me to the station, and between the two of us, we managed to get my belongings on the boat train to Cherbourg. When we arrived at the station, we found a madhouse. It seemed like everyone was trying to get out of France. I had met an American girl on the boat train. After our luggage was all stored and our precious sitting places marked, we stood outside and watched the swarms of people streaming down the aisles of the platforms. It looked like all of the remaining taxis in Paris were gathered together there, literally clawing and scratching at each other in an attempt to get close to the station!
When we arrived at Cherbourg it was necessary to board a tender for transportation to the RMS Queen Mary, which was located far out in the harbor instead of at the usual docking place. I heard someone say that she was loaded down with gold that was being shipped from England to the United States, and her standing off was just a precautionary measure. We climbed aboard the tender and waited and waited — literally for hours. The tender just sat there!
It seems that the Queen Mary had been hours late in leaving England (because of the gold, I guess) and she was not ready to receive us. This was the most dreadful afternoon and night! Almost all of the people who were boarding at Cherbourg were from Europe proper. It appeared that most of the people were from the Slavic and Balkan countries, with not very many French or English among them. There we sat, crowded inside this tender, with just masses of people talking in every kind of language. It became very warm in there! Although it was chilly outside and there was no place to sit, we relinquished our precious seats below because we could no longer tolerate the heat and confusion.
We finally reached the Queen Mary at about 10:30 that night, and were herded aboard like cattle. No fooling, I decided this is what steerage must be like. I had not eaten anything since lunch, and there was nothing available to eat until we came on board.
And then — what a disagreeable time! I was acquiring a lovely head cold. Luggage was hopelessly mixed up. We had to relinquish it when we left the boat train and it was put on the Queen Mary for us. The one bag that I wanted — and needed — to get ready for bed, just could not be found. I gave up in despair! When I found my cabin, I realized that all three of my roommates had previously boarded at Southampton, and were already asleep. I hated to put on the light in our tiny cabin and wake them up. Shivering and sniffling, I climbed to my upper birth and somehow managed to sleep. It was 12:30 a.m!
Date: September 29, 1938
Place: On board the Queen Mary
Weather: Windy and very rough!
TIMELINE: during the Munich Conference, when Hitler promises to make no further demands, France and England agree that he should take possession of the Sudetenland portion of Czechoslovakia.
I finally found my suitcase — under the bunk. Today wasn’t much better, as my cold persisted. I had my first taste of seasickness. In an effort to keep out of the way of the others in our cabin, I got up early for breakfast and wandered around a bit, which was difficult to do on an empty stomach. I went to the dining room, but had to leave in the middle of breakfast. In spite of the gale outside, I tried being on deck for a while. Contrary to all instructions, the longer I stayed on the deck (with the sea so rough that standing was almost impossible) the worse I felt. I simply went back to bed. The cabin is very well situated, and if I don’t move around I feel fine. Almost everyone on board is seasick. To my surprise, I received a letter from Arthur, my romantic date at the Café Ostende. I am curious about it but do not feel much like reading right now. I shall wait until tomorrow. And so, to bed.
How I Saw Hitler on My Summer Vacation Page 8