World Film and Television Progress (1938)

SM^©as3® it Ha a ssr (From the Film 'Double Crime sur la Ligne Maginot'1) Hello America: This is the Maginot Line calling. We're "somewhere in France", a little more than 100 feet underground, in the Metz sector of the Line. We can't give you the exact location. A few hours ago, we drove up here — through the peaceful rolling countryside of Lorraine — passed through a delightful bit of woods and walked right into the side of a hill. We passed through big iron doors. Over the doors was a plaque with crossed flags of the Republic of France, underneath was the legend : "On ne passe pas" meaning literally : "One does not pass". We walked along a tunnel for about 75 feet, entered a very comfortable elevator and went down about 100 feet into the ground. We boarded a little electric train (much like the ones used in mines), were carried along for several hundred yards at about 15 miles an hour and here we are — talking to you from the centre of one of the most closely-guarded military secrets in Europe: the Maginot Line. On one side of this line stands France, a nation of just over 40 million inhabitants; on the other side 75 million citizens of the Greater Germany. This line of fortifications, built by France at a cost of unknown billions of francs, stretches from Belgium to Switzerland. Let me tell you now a little about my immediate surroundings: This is really a subterranean building. It's comfortable, air-conditioned and has central heating; it's bomb-, shell and gas-proof. I'm talking from just outside the telephone exchange. It's as big as the switchboard in a modern hotel. Nearby is the hospital and operating-room. Down a short corridor is the kitchen, equipped with the latest electrical labour-saving devices. Across the way are the officers' quarters: they've got nice tiled shower-baths. Just at the corner is a room with blackboards on the wall; that's the controlroom from which guns are directed. 116 Remember: all of this is 100 feet underground. Officers and troops spend one week down here and then a week in barracks up on top. The troops, with a humour that is, perhaps, particularly French, call themselves "the moles". Everything down here is done mechanically: the little electric train carries ammunition and supplies along the corridors until they reach an elevator that takes them up to a point near the surface. You see, the guns, in these forts, are operated as they are in a battleship, the gunner can't see his target, he receives his directions from the control room, his gun is fed by an automatic conveyor and he lays the gun as directed and fires when ordered to do so. These forts are constantly manned and the men eat and sleep down here. I think there is a relief coming up now. Let's listen to them as they pass the door (. . . . sound of marching feet and troops singing). I've been referring to this particular place as a fort, but it certainly doesn't look like a fort. I can only ask you to imagine about a twelve-storey building sunk in the ground so that only the roof protrudes — just a few feet. In this case, the roof is steel and reinforced concrete and looks like a series of little cupolas, cleverly camouflaged. It is said that models of these upper defences were subjected to a pounding by 20-inch howitzers at close range — they stood the test, but the strength and thickness were tripled before they were installed. These cupolas, of course, -represent the striking-power of the forts. Everything below is constructed in such a way that both ammunition and men shall always be available to those guns. The communication system underground is duplicated throughout : double systems of telephone lines and lights have been installed, and everything seems to work by electricity. The little electric train has a horn that sounds to me almost exactly like a Paris taxi-cab. I think I hear it coming now — (sound of train, horn and ringing bell). Well, there goes the train. That one had eight flat cars, each about six or seven feet long. Incidentally, this underground railway system is a complete unit in itself, it has its signals, sidings, switches and station-master. The train can be carried up to the surface by elevators. They have both "express" and local elevators here. If you were to take that train to the exit, you would see some of the most beautiful countryside in this part of France. Green fields, carefully kept woods, apple trees in bloom, a peaceful river winding through the valley. If you looked carefully, you'd see certain mounds that look like overgrown toadstools. On closer inspection, they would turn out to be the cupolas or turrets surmounting these underground forts. These are really the most unobtrusive forts I've ever seen. They house big guns and little guns. Some of them can spring upright to fire and then drop back under their covering. Now these forts are not in a straight line by any means; they are staggered, or in echelon formation. Most of them can swing round to fire in any direction : trees have been cut down and hills levelled in order to give a clear field of fire. (All this was, of course, done years ago, and the countryside has now resumed its normal appearance.) Every foot of terrain, within the range of the guns has been mapped and charted in those control rooms down in the ground. The aim has been to plan cross-fire for every gun. If you looked out ahead of this main line, you'd see other and smaller toadstoollooking affairs. Those would be steel and concrete machine-gun emplacements. There are literally hundreds of acres of these toadstools in this sector. You'd have to look care