The news of the march into Austria could not have
come to me in more dramatic circumstances. My wife
and I had been invited on Friday night, March 11th, to
one of General Goring's gigantic parties. He gives
them in the old Herrenhaus, which he has had done over
in a form both garish and beautiful. In his ability
to handle great shows he would strike envy to the hearts
of any of our Hollywood directors. There was a huge
orchestra from the opera, the best singers of Germany,
the best dancers, gathered together, supper and wines
were of superlative quality. We were at Goring's table.
He entered late amid a blare of trumpets, followed by
a burst of music from the orchestra. A fat, round
figure in resplendent uniform with striking, clean-
shaven face, he strode around the room saluting and
taking the salutes of everybody present. Like wildfire,
rumors went around the room that the break into Austria
had occurred. There was apparent on every German face
a mighty satisfaction and intense pride of power, only
mitigated by a certain apprehension as to what Great
Britain would do about it. They had measured Italy
and knew it would not act. They knew France would
not act without a government. There remained, nevertheless, 
the incalculable mentality of Great Britain.