Thanks and Labels

In a high-ceilinged study of the Spazzo House in Moscow, a group of correspondents heard their host, U.S. Ambassador William Harrison Standley, say that the Russian people were not being given the full story of U.S. aid (TIME, March 15).

Element of Frankness. Most people wanted to know whether the Ambassador had been instructed to say his piece. Said Under Secretary of State Sumner Welles, "Whatever was said in this reported press conference was said without prior consultation with or reference to this Government." In effect: pipe down, Admiral Standley.

The President saved himself some talking (and caused some) by canceling his press conference the day after the Standley remarks were published. When he was questioned later about the "element of frankness in the character of our admirals," the President replied evasively that sometimes they were too frank, sometimes not frank enough. Mr. Roosevelt certainly knew how Admiral Standley felt on the subject. When the Ambassador visited Washington last October, he had been perturbed by the reticence of the Russians, particularly on military matters.

Answer to Frankness. The Russian reaction was prompt and compliant. Izvestia printed recapitulations of U.S. aid to Russia recently made by Lend-Lease Administrator Edward Stettinius Jr. A Moscow radio announcer broadcast similar material at a convenient speed for stenographers to take it down--a tip-off that provincial papers were expected to print it. Ambassador Litvinoff in Washington said: "Supplies received through Lend-Lease have been an enormous help and as such deeply appreciated by the people of the Soviet Union, who are fully aware of its extent."

There undoubtedly were reasons why the Russians had made no effort to stress U.S. aid in their home press. Russians, after the Japanese, are perhaps the most suspicious and secretive people in the world. The lack of a European second front still angers them, and last week they resumed their storming for one. When thousands of Russians are being killed every day, they cannot go into ecstasies over U.S. planes and tanks. They have, moreover, a profound dislike of being treated as poor cousins.

Sausages and Airplanes. Without official reminders, Russian pilots know when it is U.S. planes they are flying, soldiers when it is U.S. shoes they wear, housewives when they use U.S. flour, sugar, lard and canned meats. New York Times Correspondent Ralph Parker went to a Moscow "gastronom" where the grocer told him: "Of course, we have had the American goods here. Not a lot; I should say about 10% of the total over six months."

"How do you know the goods are American?"

"By the marks, of course."

At lunch with a Russian family, Correspondent Parker's hostess said: "Hope you will like the sausages. We have some American ones today." He asked her how she knew.

"By the can," she said, "but don't you think we Russians know our own sausages?"

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