A Letter From The Publisher, Nov. 11, 1946

One of our Berlin correspondents advised us recently that thanks to the new currency regulations he felt practically “streamlined” because he no longer had to carry currency control books. An inspection of his lightened pockets disclosed, however, that in order to do his job in Germany he still had to have on his person some 25 items—from “travel orders in 15 copies permitting movement about Germany” to “a car owner’s license the size of the front page of Stars and Stripes.”

Curious to know what our correspondents in other countries must carry to cover the postwar news, we asked them to empty their pockets and tell us what they found. Here is a typical summary, from Fred Gruin, TIME correspondent in Nanking.

Pocket contents: one reporter’s notebook; one address book; one batch name cards, minus which it is almost impossible to do business in China (front of card bears my name in English; reverse side has the Chinese translation, Go Ho Ping, meaning Hope For Peace, which causes many high & low folk to remark: “Very nice name”); one pen, one pencil, one penknife, one passport, two car keys; one inoculation certificate showing 14 original shots plus regular boosters, minus which air travel is taboo; one Chinese Government certificate of registration as a correspondent; about 30,000 dollars Chinese, which is the equivalent of a double-size stuffed wallet and worth about $10 U.S. (when carrying more Chinese dollars I must bring an overnight bag or briefcase along); one piece of string to keep currency wad tight; a phone installation bill of $50 U.S. (one coke in Nanking costs $1 U.S.); assorted cables from New York, etc. I leave my wallet at home, since it is inadequate.

And so it goes—allowing for each country’s particular brand of red tape —with most of our correspondents. In India, the most useful document is a press pass to the Viceroy’s house, which, although outdated now, still gets you anywhere (even into Gandhi’s untouchables colony) and proves helpful during riots. In Buenos Aires, each government and municipal department has its own special pass for admittance. Great Britain, on the other hand, requires only two cards (national identity and alien registration) to work there.

Keys, not documents, weigh down our correspondent in Rome, where burglars now flourish. He has to carry about 30 of them: keys to the door of his house, the pantry, dispensary, clothes closet, private desk, passenger elevator; to the door of his office building, his office door, the third intermediate door ; to his typewriter, office desk, locker. Cigarets have to be kept in doubly-locked separate chests, and the jeep has to be locked six ways from breakfast, involving keys to the steering wheel, ignition, hood, spare tire, gas tank and tool locker.

Knowing the hardships of covering the news in Russia, we were especially anxious to hear from our Moscow correspondent. When he did not reply after a decent interval, we re-queried him.

Still no answer, although his news copy was coming through all right.

Wondering whether he was once again a victim of the unpredictable vagaries of Soviet censorship, we cabled him as follows:

ON OUR REQUERY 723. HAVE YOU BEEN TOO PRESSED FOR TIME TO GIVE US YOUR POCKET CONTENTS OR IS THERE TOO MUCH IRON TO REPORT?

Next day we had our answer in the following cable, passed by the Moscow censor:

PLEASE CONVEY MY GREETINGS TO BYRON PRICE* AND ALL THOSE ENGAGED IN CELEBRATING THIS ANNIVERSARY OF

THE PUBLISHER’S LETTER. TOO BAD I AM

SO FAR AWAY AND THUS UNABLE TO JOIN YOU, BUT ANYWAY IT’S NICE TO KNOW YOU ARE THINKING OF ME.

*U.S. wartime censorship head.