"We Will Sit Tight"

The Second Battle of Berlin was not Armageddon, but it was the most extreme case to date of face-making and nose-thumbing among the nations.

Masses of Spies? On scant (24 hours) notice the Russians last week bluntly informed the Western Powers that henceforth a new inspection policy would prevail on travel through the Soviet zone which encircles Berlin. Russian officials would board all military trains, inspect passengers and papers, pick over cargoes.

On the four-lane concrete Autobahn roughly paralleling the railway, a new control point for all vehicles would be set up at Nowawes, on the outskirts of Berlin.

Blandly, at first, the Russians spelled out the ostensible reason for such severities. They were decreed "in the interest of expediting travel." Then egg-bald Colonel Alexander Tulpanov indicated why the Russians were jittery. He thundered to a German audience: "Spies from the British and American zones come in masses to Berlin and from there into the Soviet zone to carry out economic, political and military espionage."

Perhaps the Russians were worried by recent public reports that the U.S. was about to beef up its espionage service. Or the Kremlin may have created the Berlin crisis in order to take the news play away from final enactment of the European Recovery Program. In Britain, for instance, two papers got so excited about Berlin that they failed to mention that President Truman had signed ERP.

Tit for Tat. If the Russians wanted to create an exciting diversion, they did their work well. Twenty Soviet Tommy-gunners set up a roadblock in the British sector. Up wheeled British armored vehicles, backed by 100 troopers, and off moved the Russians. Two little American girls wandered off and 300 soldiers spent six frantic hours finding them. "We just got on a bus," explained one of the tots casually.

A platoon of M.P.s cordoned the Soviet-run German railroad administration building. The official reason: contrary to the four-power rules, the Russians had installed armed sentries there. For 24 hours entry was denied all Russians, even two generals.

The U.S. soldiers would not permit the Russians to carry in food for the guards inside the building. Instead, a U.S. lieutenant colonel inspected Russian soup, bread, coffee and cigarettes, then permitted German policemen to carry in the food.

To his chiefs in the U.S., General Clay had radioed this assurance: "We will sit tight. We will not be provocative. . . . Evacuation to me is unthinkable." At week's end several U.S. and British freight trains got through to Berlin without being challenged. And, finally, the Russians grudgingly agreed to meet with the Western Powers to "clarify" their terms, if not alter them. For a time, it appeared, there would be an uneasy truce--until the Russians probed elsewhere. Patience and firmness had paid off again.

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