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city, which is some eleven miles in circumference; that was before it was included in the prohibited areas. Now concrete machine-gun loopholes peered at you from various angles; and towards the great gate, where the wall made its nearest approach to the Yangtze, the fortifications were believed to be particularly heavy and well provided with deep dugouts to serve as battle headquarters in time of need. We heard that even the German officers, who advised on how these concrete emplacements should be constructed, were not allowed to know the actual details of their location, and we used to think how ungrateful and suspicious it was of the Chinese to act thus. However, subsequent events have surely justified the Chinese attitude.
Near the gate, at intervals, the older houses of the foreign business community, sited along Socony ridge, stare out over the long squat wall of the city at the Yangtze, and the intervening mile of pond, field and shack: but the last house turns its back to the river, straddling a narrow spur, an offshoot from the main ridge. Set in a pattern of mellow brick, our windows faced Nanking and Purple Mountain beyond. From the small lawn in front we could look down on the familiar landmarks of the city, the hillock of the Northern temple, the ancient Drum Tower, the hard concrete lines of the sumptuous International Club, and the salmon-pink walls of the New Metropolitan Hotel, so soon to be painted a hideous black. From the verandah of this house we were to watch the flash and smoke of the bursting bombs of many an air raid.
This August the discussion of the trivialities of a daily routine had continued against a background of mounting tension. How exercised we were to find a method of circumventing a malignant crack through which the water of our small swimming pool sought to escape down the hill! At the bridge tables of the Bungalow Club, at dinner parties, dancing at the International Club, amidst the humdrum of everyday life, there was a mystery of 'phone calls, a whispered exchange of latest information, the question of increasing urgency **Is it war?**
Already in July members of the various embassies had begun to return from the summer seaside resorts in the north, where the storm was brewing, following the Marco Polo Bridge incident on July 7th; and a trickle of refugees came in from Tsinanfu. But in Nanking the cinemas remained open, the tennis tournament continued, and I remember an entertainment which was given towards the end of the month to the twenty-four Chinese students, who had been
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city, which is some eleven miles in circumference; that was before it was included in the prohibited areas. Now concrete machine-gun loopholes peered at you from various angles; and towards the great gate. where the wall made its nearest approach to the Yangtze, the fortifications were believed to be particularly heavy and well provided with deep dugouts to serve as battle headquarters in time of need. We heard that even the German officers, who advised on how these concrete emplacements should be constructed, were not allowed to know the actual details of their location, and we used to think how ungrateful and suspicious it was of the Chinese to act thus. However, subsequent events have surely justified the Chinese attitude.
Near the gate, at intervals, the older houses of the foreign business community, sited along Socony ridge, stare out over the long squat wall of the city at the Yangtze, and the intervening mile of pond, field and shack: but the last house turns its back to the river, straddling a narrow spur, an off shoot from the main ridge. Set in a pattern of mellow brick, our windows faced Nanking and Purple Mountain beyond. From the small lawn in front we could look down on the familiar landmarks of the city, the hillock of the Northern temple, the ancient Drum Tower, the hard concrete lines of the sumptous International Club. and the salmon-pink walls of the New Metropolitan Hotel, so soon to be painted a hideous black. From the verandah of this house we were to watch the flash and smoke of the bursting bombs of many an air raid.
This August the discussion of the trivialities of a daily routine had continued against a background of mounting tension. How exercised we were to find a method of circumventing a malignant crack through which the water of our small swimming pool sought to escape down the hill! At the bridge tables of the Bungalow Club, at dinner parties, dancing at the International Club, amidst the humdrum of everyday life, there was a mystery of 'phone calls, a whispered exchange of latest information, the question of increasing urgency **Is it war?"
Already in July members of the various embassies had begun to return from the summer seaside resorts in the north, where the storm was brewing, following the Marco Polo Bridge incident on July 7th; and a trickle of refugees came in from Tsinanfu. But in Nanking the cinemas remained open, the tennis tournament continued, and I remember an entertainment which was given towards the end of the month to the twenty-four Chinese students, who had been
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