Possible future bombings to crack American morale will meet with little success, if last night's statewide blackout is any criterion. Judging from the activities in an around Harvard Square, the enemy's time and bombs will merely be wasted.

Cantabridgians, like all good Americans, co-operated nobly with the air raid authorities, but maintained their traditional freedom of speech and action. Two slightly inebriated intellectuals kept up a torrid flow of claim and counter-claim on how to best lick Hitler during the maze of signals. When last seen, they were coming dangerously close to blows on the question of who was the better American.

That there can be business as usual despite total war was admirably demonstrated by a Harvard student who was trying, evidently without success, to convince a benefactor that he would get his twenty bucks as soon as the next check arrived from home.

Meek Fire

University fire-fighters displayed their ability to cope with incendiaries in an "incident" atop the House squash courts. At a given signal, little men climbed nimbly up hastily erected ladders and began dousing the roof, each other, and, theoretically, the conflagration with streams of water from their fire hoses. With Chief Air Raid Warden Aldrich Durant looking on, the valiant blaze-battlers finished their task, and like the Arab of old, silently stole away.

Early stages of the blackout manifested clock-like precision and cooperation between defense authorities and civilians, but confusion was evident in the minds of both regarding return to normal. As a result of the misinterpretations of directions, House lights were popping on and off during the interval between the blue signal and the all-clear.

Candid comment of the evening came from a petite and rather dishevelled-looking young lady who said demurely, emerging from Hazens, "My, I'm glad this is over. I always like to know who it is."