THE United States never seemed more desirable; I was never
more anxious to be home again than I was during those last
few months in Germany. I had no idea what I would do when
I returned--whether I should be able to continue in radio,
return to newspaper work, or have to seek some new way to
make a living. That part of the picture was a discouraging
blank. But, in any case, I would be home again with Ruth
and Pat.

"We'll make it somehow, dear," Ruth said, as I talked with
her on the phone. "Just get home."

But it began to look more and more as if I should not be able
to leave Germany. After I had the cable from Paul White, say-
ing that my Clipper left on October 2, I made all other neces-
sary arrangements, applied for transit visas, submitted my
books, films, and notes to the censors, and gave away everything
that would make excess weight on the Clipper--books, cloth-
ing, and even, regretfully, a doll that I had bought in Paris for
Pat. Day after day I called Schirmer, but without result. The
time passed when I could take a train for Lisbon. I tried to get
a seat on a plane, but found that permission was required from
the Nazi Foreign Office. I applied to Schirmer for that also.

The last plane that could get me to Lisbon on time left Mon-
day morning, September 29. It was not until late the previous

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