
The year was 1949. A deep covering of snow obscured the
outline of the splendid baroque buildings in the old city of Innsbruck.
The venerable capital of the land of the Tyrol seemed
depopulated by the grim force of the Alpine Winter. The wide
avenue named after the Empress Maria Theresia, beloved
matriarch of a long-vanished united states of Eastern Europe,
was empty of its afternoon strollers, who had fled the elements
to find shelter where they could. Shelter, especially of the heated
variety, was in poor supply to be sure. The scarcity of heating
materials left most public and many private buildings without
heat. Even the historic chambers of Innsbruck's famous university
housed shivering masses of heavily clad students huddled
around professors whose learning was exceeded only by their
discomfort. Greengrocers dispiritedly offered their all-too-small
store of frostbitten vegetables for sale, while the Moroccan
Spahis and Senegalese infantrymen of the French occupational
army vociferously cursed the day when their generals decided to
station them in this land of snow and ice. Happy indeed was the
man, the woman, or the child who found it possible to repair to
a heated room on a day like this.