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The days in Germany were like the days in no other country, there to be breathed into being as one might breathe into the lips and nostrils of the dead. The hours of them seemed suspended, perhaps brought to a halt by the monumental rubble, but halted so long ago that it could no longer be recalled in what month, or year, or even in what lifetime, their sequence had reached this pause. Perhaps the meaning of night and day, of summer and winter, of peace and war, had been lost to this country in the instant when hope of German victory died.

The article presents the author's experience and thoughts on issues related to race relations in the United States. It started after he met a young man in a bus. He had never known of any difficulties in the professional spheres, he said. For him they all were students together and interns together, and everything's right and natural. But then comes graduation, and the trouble begins. There was one girl they all thought a lot of, and she graduated with high honors, and married one of the white students she'd gone through school with. He didn't have anything like the marks she had, but when they got out in real life together, he was the one who had a choice of jobs right off, and she couldn't get a thing.

Presents several letters to the editor referencing articles and topics published in previous issues. Criticism of review of the book "The Next Kennedy," published in the February 10 issue; "Laos: The Fiction of Neutrality," published in the February 24 issue; "What Dirksen Knows," published in the January 27 issue; Appraisal of college students for trying to disrupt campus recruiting by organizations they dislike; "The University as Employment Agency," published in the February 24 issue.

The article focuses on the various faces of Spain. The foodstuffs in the markets of Spain, even in the poorest quarters of the cities, are lavish in color, quantity, and quality. But there is a nightmarish quality of illusory plenty about these great popular markets, for it is a phantom population which moves between the counters. Few middle-class families, and even fewer working-class families, can afford the prices they are asked to pay. There are two distinct and separate faces to the country, and the instant one sets foot on Spanish soil one makes, the choice deliberately is to which face one selects to see.

This article presents experience of the author in a hotel in Italy. He stood at the window of the hotel room and looked out across the stone balcony's balustrade, and beyond it across the square to where the river flowed, as dear and unbroken as peace itself, and marvelously impervious to demolition. A long way below, a dozen or more people stood waiting on the stones of the Arno's beach, faceless and sexless and scarcely human from the window's height, but more like the black, explicit letters of a caption saying, "Italian workers in blasted Florence waking on the bank of the Arno to be ferried home at night."

Social Democratic Bundestag member and head of the Railway Workers' Union of West Germany, Hans Jahn is a tough, stocky, outspoken man of great warmth and friendliness, as different from the portfolio-carrying German bureaucrats and business men as fresh air is different from the established official air of Germany. "The matter of democracy in the German trade unions has to take the German character into consideration," Jahn said in answer to a question. "The percentage of organized workers in Germany is higher now than before 1933 and is increasing every day," Jahn said.

In this article the author cites the conversation of a woman and a girl, who while traveling in the same train shared wine and their experiences of staying in Frankfurt with each other. The woman told the girl about her attachment with Frankfurt as she went there as a bride. The woman had so many memories of Frankfurt that each time she talked about Frankfurt, her hands started trembling. The woman told the girl that she left for China, with her husband and her sons. But she lost everything in the bombings, including her house, furniture and business.

This article focuses on several books on conscience including "They Fell From God's Hands," by Hans Werner Richter. The book was awarded the Rene Scheckele Prize. "They Fell From God's Hands" tells the story of ten Europeans, three women, seven men, from the time of the outbreak of War in 1939 through the era of the displaced persons' camps in Germany. Their political convictions, their anguish of the mind and flesh, their hunger, their love, are woven in and out, in and out, endlessly, thread by painstakingly selected thread. The other books include "The Burnt Offering," by Albrecht Goes and "The Revolt of Gunner Asch," Hans Hellmut Kirst.

Presents the short story "A Puzzled Race," by Kay Boyle.

A number of the new novels express man's longing to be identified with other men Carson McCullers' "The Member of the Wedding," and James Jones's "From Here to Eternity." In these specific books, it is pointed out, protagonists seek identification with others in an attempt to find security. Thomas Mann, among other writers has said that it is writers, intellectuals, of a country who bear the full weight of moral responsibility. It has long been established that the writer, the artist, must partake of the world he finds about him if his work is to come alive and stay alive.