Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Visiting Israel, February 1968

I went to Israel in 1968 during the University of Vienna’s month-long semester break. At the time, I was studying at the Institute of European Studies (IES), which was part of the University, whose its fall semester ended in late January and whose spring semester began in March.

With no classes in February, students had time for long trips, and the Austrian student travel association (ÖKISTA) offered the most enticing travel options, including a group trip to Israel. Its prices were cheap, but then students in Europe had plenty of opportunities to enjoy life at reduced prices. 

The Israel trip included travel by ship from Italy to Israel, with stops along the way, plus two weeks in the country, at an all-inclusive price that was barely believable. I hopped on board, as did several other fellow IES students.

Although it barely occurred to me at the time, the dirt-cheap price likely was related to the “Six Day War” that Israel had fought seven months earlier, in June 1967. Israel had battled Syria, Egypt, and Jordan. After winning the war decisively, it had occupied land taken from its opponents. Some people might have had second thoughts about traveling to a country, aboard one of its ships, whose existence was under threat by most of its neighbors. I, being young, did not, of course, give this situation a second thought.  
Dan Durning & Mike Ramaker, 1968

The travel group included two of my Parisergasse suite-mates (God rest the soul of our Hausfrau, Frau Winckler). They were Mike Ramaker and Jack (last name escapes me). Mike (from Indiana) and Jack (from Florida) were roommates, but did not care much for each other. I shared an adjacent bedroom with roommate Tom Dodds (a Texan). I enjoyed being around Mike, whose sarcasm and acerbic comments often amused me. Also, I had a friendly acquaintance with Jack, but we had little in common.

The Journey to Israel

The group of about 20 students, plus a few older folks, took off early one February morning in a bus heading toward Italy. We spent a night in Venice and the next day we arrived in Naples, where we boarded an Israeli passenger ship aptly named the Dan. The ship was named after a city located during Biblical days in what is now the northeast corner of Israel.
Israel Ship, the "Dan" in the Port of Athens, Feb. 1968

The Dan made several stops on the way to Israel, giving us a few hours to visit different ports, including Athens (Greece), Rhodes (Greek island), Izmir (Turkey), and Cyprus. Most impressive was the chance to see Athens, a striking and inspiring city whose ancient buildings and ruins remind us of the advanced civilizations that paved the way for the modern world. At the time I was there, Greece also was a reminder of threats to democracy: it was under military control. (Later, memories of my short visit in Athens enhanced my enjoyment of the movie “Z”, which came out in 1969, about a military dictatorship in Greece.)
The Acropolis, Athens,  February 1968

The hours in Rhodes, an island on which one of the original several wonders of the world was located, left me with a strong desire to return to this beautiful island. Maybe in 2015.

Cyprus was a tense place with armed soldiers eyeing everyone around them. Crossing the border from the Greek part of Cyprus to the Turkish part, and vice versa, was harrowing. At the time, Cyprus was in the midst of campaigning for a late February presidential election. Somehow I ended up with a campaign poster for the leading candidate, Makarios III, who won re-election; sadly the poster was made of such cheap paper that it quickly deteriorated.

Most of the sailing was done in the evenings and nights after the port visits, and the ship provided ample post-dinner entertainment. One night a hypnotist provided a show and one of his “subjects” was an IES student. The show went well, with the hypnotized student doing silly things as ordered by the hypnotist; then, near the end the act the “hypnotized” student turned his eyes to his friends in the  audience and winked to let us in on the joke. Also one night, a costume contest was held and someone convinced me to go as “Baby Hughie,” wearing a sheet as a diaper. I did not win the best costume prize and am glad that no photos have survived.

Of the several days on the ocean, one night stands out. It was the night we were hit by a storm that tossed us around like a dare-devil carnival ride. I downed some Dramamine, got into my upper bunk bed and promptly went to sleep, awakening periodically when a great swell threw me from one side of the bed to the other.

Arrival in Israel and the First Visits

The ship arrived in Haifa in the northern part of Israel. The initial view of the city was dominated by a large gold-domed Bahai Temple that sat midway up a ridge on the east side of the city. 

When going into the city for the first time, we were pleased to find that the weather was mild and the trees were green. It was a pleasure to trade the Austrian winter for these new surroundings.
Hill above Haifa, Feb. 1968 (Bahai Temple)

Most of the group headed off for a week at a Kibbutz, but Mike and I, being lazy and independent types, decided that we would go our own way and meet up later with the others for the scheduled tour. We stayed at a hotel in Netanya, a coastal city south of Haifa with about 55,000 residents. Our room was a short walk to the Mediterranean Sea.  The hotel served tasty kosher meals, the first I had eaten.

During the week in Netanya, Mike and I went to Jerusalem a couple of times. That required taking a bus from Netanya to Tel Aviv, then boarding another bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. We quickly figured out that the country is tiny, the bus system was efficient and travel times were quite manageable.
Dan D. at Netanya Beach, Feb. 1968

We wandered around the arid and largely treeless underdeveloped eastern side of the city that had been part of Jordan until June 1967. In this hilly area, families lived mostly in modest huts, and it was not rare to see people riding on donkeys.

In contrast to the languid pace of life and desolation on the east side of Jerusalem, the western part of city, which had been part of Israel from its early years, was a high-energy modern city. It had new buildings and heavy traffic, and most people wore western dress. It seemed to occupy a different world that the one inhabited only a few miles away by the people in east Jerusalem.
Dwelling in East Jerusalem (formerly part of Jordan), Feb. 1968

Looking to the Walled City from East Jerusalem, Feb. 1968

The Old Walled City was an exotic place for an innocent traveler who not experienced the color, smells, and jostling bustle of Arab commerce. In many parts of the city, the narrow passageways were lined with small shops selling foods, clothes, tobaccos, and other goods that came without packaging. The oddly dressed crowds, the emphatic conversations in an unfamiliar language, and the energetic efforts of the sellers created an impression of chaotic strangeness that, alone, was worth the trip. I watched in amazement as others lived lives that I had not imagined.
Eastern Wall of Jerusalem, Temple Mount and Dome of the Rock in the Middle, Feb. 1968

View of War Damage and Dome of the Rock from Within the Walled City, Feb. 1968

When entering the Walled City, evidence of the recent war was prominent. The history of the war describes fierce fighting for it, including hand-to-hand combat on Temple Mount, an area of the city sacred to both Muslims and Jews. Many of the battles took place at its entrances. Seven month later, bullet marks and damage from explosives still scarred both the walls and buildings near them.
Damaged Spire, see picture above for
the location

Aside from the Jerusalem visits, the most memorable experience during the first week was time spent in Caesarea, which lay several miles up the coast from Netanya, about half way to Haifa. Mike and I went there by bus to see the ruins of this ancient Roman city. We had the whole place to ourselves as we walked amid the remains of a coliseum and strolled among fallen columns and shells of buildings. It looked as if an earthquake had destroyed a large Roman city and the ruins and rubble had remained largely untouched for centuries.

When we walked a short way to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea to view the ruins from that perspective, a local kid ran up to us to offer some wet Roman coins he had fished  from the Sea. I bought one for a small price, but much of it disintegrated when it dried. Still, I was awed to hold this item in my hand and wonder in what other hands and pockets it had been since it was created, and how it had ended up in the water.
Fallen Columns at Caesarea, Feb. 1968

We enjoyed the Caesarea ruins so much that we did not notice that it was getting dark. At last, we realized that we had to leave before night fully came. We went to the bus stop to find we had missed the last bus that would take us back. So, in the darkness we walked a couple miles down an empty road between Caesarea and a bus stop on Highway 2. For a second I wondered whether I should be scared, but decided nothing could happen on such a peaceful night while walking in the company of a multitude of Roman ghosts.

Walking Path in Caesarea, Feb. 1968

Caesarea at Sundown, February 1968

The Top to Bottom Tour

After a week on our own in Netanya, Mike and I joined with the rest of the University of Vienna group for a tour that took us from one end of Israel (Golan Heights) to the other (Eilat), with many stops in between. We had a knowledgeable guide, who sometimes offered a little too much information. Despite occasional yawns, we learned much from him.

The following is an overview of some of the places we more memorable places we visited:

Golan Heights (Occupied Syria). We went up to the southern edge of the Golan Heights that overlook the Sea of Galilee and the surrounding parts of Israel. Until June 1967, the Golan Heights had been part of Syria from which it could easily fire weapons, mortar and artillery at Israeli settlements below. It provided Syria with a commanding military position.
Sign showing location of former frontier on road to
Golan Heights, Feb. 1968

To Damascus with Love, on the Road to
Golan Heights, Feb. 1968

We stood on top of Syrian military bunkers to view the green valley and the stunted hills that stretched before us. From there, we saw the well-tended land surrounding the Sea of Galilee and the small mountains that arose in the distance. 
Viewing Northern Israel from the Top of a Syrian Bunker; Guide is in front;
IES students Winnie (light hair,  side view), Mike Ramaker (beside her), and
Pat Hurley (sun glasses facing camera) can be seen

View of the Sea of Galilee from the Golan Heights

Service at the Ruins of an Old Church by the Sea of Galilee, Feb. 1968

Megiddo (In Greek, the name in Armageddon). This site is located in the northern part of Israel about 25 miles from Haifa.  For many of the pre-Christian Era centuries, it occupied a strategic location guarding a narrow pass on a trade route that connected Egypt with Assyria. At this site, cities were built at different times from 7000 BC to 586 BC., and they were repeatedly destroyed by battles, then rebuilt again.  

Archaeological excavations of Megiddo have found 26 layers of ruins that accumulated during it 6,500 years of existence. Visiting these ruins created a new appreciation of the scope of history that has been lived in times before ours. The six and a quarter centuries between the time of Columbus’ arrival in the “New World” and the present is less than a tenth of the time of Meggido’s existence.   
Some views are better than others: IES Student Pat Hurley, Feb. 1968

Inspired by my visit to this site, I tracked down a book, The Source, by James Michener, that tells the story of a fictional ancient city in Israel resembling Megiddo and lives of people living there as it was repeatedly destroyed and rebuilt.

 Jerusalem. Returning to the city with the group, I visited major spots important to Christian, Jewish, and Muslim faiths. The city of full of them; many of the Christian sites are associated with the crucifixion story.  Probably the most famous – and certainly the most visible – place in the Walled City is the Dome of the Rock, on Temple Mount. This Muslim Shrine was built on the location of the Jewish Second Temple, which was destroyed by the Romans in 70 C.E. (aka A.D.). The Dome of the Rock is built over the “Foundation Stone.” According to Muslims, it is from this stone that Muhammad ascended to heaven. Jews regarded the “Foundation Stone” as the holiest spot on earth; it was the “Holy of Holies” during the time the Second Temple was located there.
Dome of the Rock, Feb. 1968
After visiting the various religious shires and holy place, I enjoyed walking around the Walled City. As I was hunting for souvenirs just before our group was about to leave, a slick-talking hustler started walking uninvited beside me and acting as a tour guide, pointing out interesting things in the area. After walking beside me for about 15 minutes and gently steering me in a direction I was not sure I wanted to go, he stopped and pointed to a building. He told me that his lovely sister was there and was available for a small fee. When I thanked him for his kind offer, but said I needed to get back to my group, he suddenly became belligerent and demanded pay for his “tour” services. Another lesson learned.

Market on Narrow Street in Jerusalem, Feb. 1968

Bethlehem and Jericho (occupied Jordan). We made a trip to sites well known to Christians, including a church that purported to be built at the birthplace of Jesus. This area had been occupied by Israel six months earlier, and we did not seem particularly welcome, except by sellers of trinkets.
Market in Bethlehem, Feb. 1968
Dead Sea/Masada.  The Dead Sea is huge body of water, framed by bare, inhospitable mountains. We got to spend enough time at the Dead Sea to prove that, in fact, it was impossible to drown in such salty water. Then we went to a legendary site in Jewish history, Masada. It was at this mountain, as described by the historian Josephus Flavius, that a band of zealous Jews held out against the invading Roman army in 73 A.D. The mountain top – where the defenders had their garrison -- was accessible only by a winding, narrow path. The Romans surrounded the mountain and laid siege, then they built scaffolding for passage up the mountain. When they finally were able to enter Masada, they found that all of the defenders had killed themselves. Some historians claim that Josephus Flavius’s story was not accurate and no mass suicide occurred, but it is still told as an example of Jewish resistance to invaders.   
The Trail up to the Top of Masada, Feb. 1968

The Buildings and Fortifications on Masada

View of the Dead Sea from Masada, Feb. 1968

In 1968, the only way to get to the top of Masada was to walk up a steep, winding, and, in places, narrow path. Now, a cable car is available to whisk lazy people to the top. On the top of Masada are ruins of the military outpost. Also, the top provides a sweeping view of the Dead Sea. 

Eilat. Most of the southern part of Israel is made up of the Negev Desert; the drive from Be’er Sheva to Eilat passes through rugged and largely uninhabited desert land. After driving through the desert, it is a relief to reach Eilat, a city located on the Red Sea’s Gulf of Aqaba. The water was pristine. We took a glass-bottomed boat to view the under-water world of the Gulf. 

After a couple of days to float in the warm Gulf waters, we headed back to Haifa for the trip back to Vienna. 

Heading Back

The trip to Israel left some strong impressions. Some of them came from having spent so many hours as a kid in Sunday school and church hearing stories from the Bible. It was exciting to see the places whose names I had heard so often: Jerusalem, Sea of Galilee, Bethlehem, Nazareth, Mount of Olives, Jericho, etc. 

Other impressions were of the state of Israel. It was a surprisingly small country and much of it was made up of an inhospitable desert. It was hard to believe that a country with so little land and so few resources, surrounded by hostile neighbors, had been so successful. 

I was surprised that Israel had such a distinctly modern and Western feel, and the differences between the places we visited that had been part of Israel since its creation and the parts that had been occupied seven months earlier were stark. Visiting the occupied areas was stepping back in time.  
As we were headed back to Vienna, on the day I turned 21, I thought to myself how much I had enjoyed visiting Israel, what a great opportunity it had been for me to travel there, and how much I had learned from the trip. Even now, more that 45 years later, I still feel the same. 

(Note: I took all of the photographs except for the two that I am in.)

Monday, January 5, 2015

September 12, 1931: Journalist Friedrick Scheu Meets Actress Luise Rainer After Her Vienna Debut

On reading of the death on December 30th of actress Luise Rainer (1910-2014), I recalled her connections in the early 1930s to two reporters who were part of the Anglo-American Press Association (A-APA) and the Café Louvre Circle, both made up of reporters in Vienna who covered Central Europe and the Balkans for newspapers in the United States and England.[1]  In fact, one reporter, Friedrich Scheu, who was part of both groups, attended her debut stage performance in Vienna on September 12, 1931 and afterwards co-hosted a party for her and others who staged the theater production.
Publicity Photo of Luise Rainer (

Scheu (1905-1985) was a Vienna native, the son of a well-known lawyer, Dr. Gustav Scheu (1875-1935), who served on the Vienna city council as a Social Democrat during the First Republic. His mother, Helene Scheu-Riesz (1880-1970), was a writer who had considerable success with her books for children and as a publisher.[2] This liberal Jewish family lived in the Hietzing district (13th) of Vienna where they had a house designed for them by Alfred Loos in 1912. It was called Haus Scheu [3] At this house, Frau Scheu-Riesz hosted a salon that was visited by many famous Viennese such as Loos, Oskar Kokoschka and Alban Berg. The house at Larochegasse 3, which still stands, was known as the “Haus der Begegnung” (house of encounters).[4]

In his book, Der Weg ins Ungewisse: Österreichs Schicksalskurve 1929-1936 (The Way into the Uncertain: The Arc of Austria’s Fate), Scheu wrote the following about his first encounter with Luise Rainer:

"On the evening of September 12, 1931, there occurred an event of interest to Vienna: the first night of a play by the German playwright Fritz von Unruh at the Volkstheater. The piece was named “Phäa” and it addressed in an ironic form the fate of a bit movie actress who wanted to become a star. The actress in the main role has to climb into a lion’s cage, and a key moment in the piece lies in the instructions that the film director gives to the camera crew: “If the lion, God forbid, should eat the young lady, don’t stop filming!” The play was a satire on the inhumanity of the film industry.
Coincidentally the play brought a small, unknown actress from Düsseldorf to Vienna soil for the first time. Her name was Louise [sic] Rainer and the premiere in Vienna was for her the opening of a fairy tale film career in Hollywood.[5] The role that she played in Unruh’s piece had many parallels to her own fate.
The director of the play, Fritz Peter Buch was acquainted with my parents and after the premiere we had a small celebration at the home of my parents on Laroche Gasse – Fritz von Unruh, Fritz Peter Buch, Louise Rainer, and Hans Schweikart, who played the lead male role. The celebration of the success of the premiere lasted into the early morning hours."[6]
The Scheu House, Designed by Alfred Loos in 1912

In 1931, at the time of this party for Rainer and her colleagues, Scheu was not only a lawyer working in his father’s firm, but also was the Vienna correspondent for the British Labor Party’s newspaper, the London Daily Herald. As a member of a prosperous and prominent family, he had been able to travel with his parents to the U.S. (1926) and England, where his mother had lived for a while. Also, he perfected his English when he spent 18 months in England on an exchange program. He had taken on the journalist position in 1929 and was one of the first members of the Anglo-American Press Association when it formed in 1930. 
Friedrick Scheu (photo from book cover)

Apparently Scheu was a well-liked member of the A-APA (he was elected its secretary in 1931), and he also spent time at the Café Louvre with the journalists who hung out there. Among his colleagues was Robert Best (1896-1952), the heart and soul of the Café Louvre Circle. Scheu described him as “one of my best friends."[7] There is some irony in that description because Best, a South Carolina native who wrote for the United Press news agency, stayed in Austria after the Anschluss and was in Germany during the war, from which he made propaganda broadcasts. His broadcasts were filled with anti-Semitic remarks; as mentioned earlier, Scheu was a Jew.[8] Best was convicted in 1948 by a U.S. court of treason.

Another of Scheu’s colleagues was John Gunther (1901-1970), who had arrived in Vienna in 1930 to write for the Chicago Daily News. Gunther was another acquaintance of Luise Rainer; in fact according to William Shirer, one of Gunther’s friends, his infatuation with her was a major source of tension in his marriage. Apparently in the 1930s, Rainer had many men in love with her and she paid no special attention to Gunther.[9] 

After Gunther left Vienna in 1935, he wrote a novel, a roman-à-clef, about his Vienna years in which he and his wife are the two main characters. It was scheduled to be published as Ring Around Vienna in Spring, 1938, but the publication was halted because of fear that a libel suit might be brought against the publisher: the book contained an unflattering portrayal of a character named James Drew who could clearly be identified as Robert Best. The book was finally published in 1964 as The Lost City. One of the major characters in the novel – Richardo Stein, a lawyer-journalist and zealous social democrat -- was clearly based on Friedrich Scheu. From Scheu’s depiction in the novel, it is clear that Gunther thought highly of him.[10]  Though the book’s lead character, Mason Jarrett (the ersatz Gunther), is good friends with a nightclub singer, the daughter of his landlord, and a young artist, he does not link up with beautiful young woman who becomes a Hollywood movie star.
John and Frances Gunther in 1929
(photo from Inside:
The Biography of John Gunther)

As described in Gunther’s novel, Scheu was not only a lawyer and journalist, but also an ardent socialist.. He had been active as a youngster in the Socialist youth movement. After the 1934 civil war, the Social Democratic party, outlawed by the Austro-fascist government, went underground, but covertly Scheu remained an active member of the party.  When someone tipped off the police that Scheu was reading outlawed newspapers and journals, he was arrested in January 1935, but he was released without imprisonment. The A-APA was active in efforts to get his release.

After his release, Scheu went to the American embassy to thank the ranking diplomat there, George Messersmith (1881 – 1960), for assistance in obtaining his release. (In fact, the Americans could do nothing to assist him because he was not an American citizen and reported only part time for an American press agency.) Messersmith mentioned his meeting with Scheu in a letter to one of his superiors:

"A few days ago a young Austrian lawyer here, Dr. Scheu, who on the side also reports for the Daily Herald in London and for the Federated Press at home, was detained by the police and his house searched. He is a young fellow about thirty, whose father is a prominent lawyer here with close connections with the United State. The young man is quite a Socialist, as is he family. As soon as he was arrested the Vice President of the Anglo-American Press Association here called me up and wanted me to do something. I told him that I could not until we knew what he was detained for, and then it was much a question whether I could even make the most informal enquiry, as he was an Austrian and his newspaper connection was principally with the Daily Herald, and that his American connection with the Federated Press was attenuated that I felt there was really nothing we could do…. He was in fact released on the afternoon of the same day.
George Messersmith, Dec. 2, 1946,16641,19461202,00.html

"I took the opportunity of Scheu's call on me to talk to him, and I find that he is a Socialist of such an exaggerated type that he is more interested in there being a socialist government in Austria than in the maintenance of Austria….I found the young man one of these liberals who are so prejudiced they cannot even consider anyone else's point of view. I pointed out to him that anyone who held such strong view as he did had to consider very seriously as to whether he was not coloring his news with his prejudices, even when he was serving socialist papers. I gathered the impression that he considered himself more of an advocate than a reporter."[11]

When Germany invaded Austria in 1938, Scheu had to quickly escape the city and find a clever way to do so. He went to Prague, where his wife joined him; then to England. After some years, the parents were reunited with the child they had to leave behind in Vienna with this wife’s mother. Scheu spent the war years in England. After the war, he worked as a reporter for the Daily Herald. In 1954, he returned to Vienna to report on international affairs for the Arbeiterzeitung, the newspaper of the Social Democrats. He remained in that position until 1972. 

Scheu wrote several books that documented his times. His book Der Weg in Ungewisse is a memoir of the interwar years. It contains the best and most complete account of the A-APA and the Café Louvre Circle that is available, and it tells the story of his work as a correspondent and socialist activist in Vienna in the 1930s. [12]
Luise Rainer
Likely, Scheu included the information about the night of September 12, 1931 and his meeting with Luise Rainer in his memoir because who can forget their encounters with famous movie stars, especially one as attractive and talented as Luise Rainer.


 [1] Luise Rainer died on December 30, 2014. She was a German actress, who had great success in Vienna before she immigrated to the United States in 1935. The following year, she won an Oscar for Best Actress and she won the same award again in 1937.  Wikipedia has a nice biographical sketch of her life and career at this link:
For an excellent obituary, with clips from several of her movies, see

I have a research interest in foreign correspondents in Vienna during the inter-war period. Here are some links to other things I have written on the topic.

Vienna’s Café Louvre in the 1920-1930s: Meeting Place for Foreign Correspondents

Marcel W Fodor: Foreign Correspondent

A Great Night at Cafe Louvre in Vienna (February 2012)

John and Frances Gunther Celebrate the New Year, Vienna, December 31, 1930 (January 2013)

[2] She immigrated to the United States in 1935. For more information on Helene Scheu-Riesz, see these links:  (several columns she wrote for the Neue Freie Presse can be found here)

Some information (in German) on Gustav Scheu is available at this link:

Gustav, Helene, Friedrich and his wife Herta are all buried in a family plot at Feuerhalle Simmering, a cemetery located beside Vienna’s first crematorium.

[4] Austrian Radio Network (ÖRF) interview with Friedrich Scheu on January 5, 1977. It can be heard at this link:

[5] (Although the name “Louise” is used in the text, the correct first name Luise is in the index.

[6] See  Friedrich Scheu.1972. Der Weg ins Ungewisse: Österreichs Schicksalskurve 1929-1938. Verlag Fritz Molden. P. 92. (I translated the paragraphs from German.)

Fritz von Unruh (1885-1970] was the son of a German army general and also served as an army officer until 1912. He left the military to pursue a writing career. Much of his writings were anti-war and could be calledexpressionist. He was a staunch opponent of the Nazis, and left Germany in 1932 after Hitler seized power. He was for many years a refugee in the United States. He returned to Germany in 1962.

Fritz Peter Buch (1894-1964) was a director for Max Reinhardt’s Deutsche Theater in Berlin. Buch later directed propaganda files for the Nazis after they gained power in Germany.

Hans Schweikart (1895 – 1975) was a successful actor, film director, and screenwriter.  He directed 26 films between 1938 and 1968. According to the William Grange in his Historical Directory of German Theater, Schweikart during the Third Reich, Schweikart “had been a much-favored director and playwright under Goebbels, but his reputation survived.” See

[7] Scheu interview (see note 4)

The Cafe Louvre Circle was an informal one that came into being over time. Best did his work at the Café Louvre and it became a place for journalist to get together informally to find out what had been going on in Central Europe and the Balkans. It was located just a few steps away from telegraph and telephone services. (See )

The Austrian Anglo-American Press Association was created in 1930, soon after the arrival of John Gunther and Whit Burnett from their posts in Paris. It was modeled on the Anglo-American press association in Paris.  

[8] John Carver Edwards. 1982. Bob Best Considered: An Expatriate's Long Road to Treason.
North Dakota Quarterly , 50(1), Winter, pp. 73-90

[9] John Cuthbertson. 1992. Inside: The Biography of John Gunther. Bonus Books. "He fell for her to an extent that I don't think Frances [Gunther's wife] was pleased. John had a roving eye and liked to flirt." Rainer later recalled: "He was tall, husky, and blond. He was, of course, very bright and had a great sense of humor. I thought he was a terribly nice fellow... However, I must say something simply and brusquely: I was never in love with him, or anything of that kind."

[10] John Gunther. 1964. The Lost City. Harper & Row.  In his novel, Gunther built much of the plot around important events in Austria from 1930 to 1934. His characters, based on his journalist colleagues in Vienna, kept the personality and some background of each person, but changed many of the details and fictionalized many of their actions. For example, in the novel, Richardo Stein was a Viennese lawyer as well as a journalist and was a committed social democrat (both of which Scheu was). He also flew his own airplane (Scheu did not) and was killed during the 1934 civil war (Scheu was not).

[11] The letter is from G.S. Messersmith to J. Pierrepont Moffet, U.S. Department of State, dated January 19, 1935. It can be downloaded from this site:, p. 8

[12]  His books include: Ein Band der Freundschaft: Schwarzwald-Kreis und Entstehung der Vereinigung Sozialistischer Mittelschuler. 1985; “Humor als Waffe”: Politishen Kaberett in der Ersten Republic. 1977; Die Emigrationspresse der Sozialisten: 1938-1945. 1969; The Early Days of the Anglo-Austrian Society. 1969; and Die Englische Arbeiterregierung, 1949. One book is in English: English Labor and the Beveridge Plan, 1943. This book was published by the Island Press, which was an American publishing house owned by his mother.