Waiting--

The big war news was coming from Italy, and it was good news. But in Britain, as in the rest of the warring world, men read with half an eye, and warily watched and anxiously listened for omens of the great Invasion.

Londoners got a forcible reminder that D-day was near. After months of polite warnings and genteel posters asking "Is your journey really necessary?" the authorities abruptly canceled long-distance passenger trains all over the country. At some stations as many as 50 trains were taken off without notice.

Getting to the station an hour early was an old wartime story to English travelers.

But now passengers queued up for many hours to wait their chance. First priority went to troops in separate queues. London's main stations looked like huge, frowzy dormitories. Hundreds of stranded travelers stretched out to catch a few hours' sleep before trying to jam aboard the train that might--or might not--be leaving in the early morning.

Local and strictly commuting trains were summarily knocked off, without warning too, to the indignation of "season-ticket holders" (British for "commuters"). In the midst of all this leaning-down came Whitsuntide. Holiday travelers jammed into the stations, crowded things up worse than ever.

Women & Children Last. From now until the military situation eases, civilians must resign themselves to being unwanted guests on Britain's highly developed, overburdened railway system. From day to day no one can be sure which trains are running; the only information available will be chalked up on station boards.

But the British took this latest war difficulty calmly, as they had taken many a worse one. With patient approval they noted other signs, noted that the roar of heavy bombers sailing south over London had never sounded louder, that the convoys of army trucks rumbling through city streets and village lanes were growing longer, that there were fewer soldiers on furlough, more in battle dress.

British Army tanks, scout cars, supply lorries suddenly bloomed with the big white star which has identified U.S. military vehicles throughout the war; this will help strafing Allied airmen avoid mistakes after the push is on in Europe.

But two exceptions were made. Ambulances will carry the red cross, while R.A.F. supply vehicles will continue to be marked with the traditional, targetlike red, white and blue roundel.

This Week. General Dwight D. Eisenhower, Allied supreme commander, popped back into London after a swift inspection tour of British ground forces, lunched with King George VI, said he was well satisfied with the thorough training of Britain's invasion troops. General "Ike's" spokesmen were broadcasting systematic instructions to the European underground--on gathering information for Allied troops, on taking shelter during the actual fighting, on sticking to their homes and resisting any German attempt to stampede civilians out onto the roads.

The British Admiralty announced that 3,700 volunteers had answered its call for yachtsmen and small-boat handlers. The boatmen, many of them veterans of the incredible flotilla that saved the B.E.F. at Dunkirk, are manning small craft in the harbors. Like other British civilians, they are waiting; but they will not have to wait quite so long.

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