Damp Paper

In the Parisian suburb of Villejuif (Jew City) there is a police laboratory, part of whose job is the dissection of bombs and fireworks. There last week chemists, army officers and police gingerly examined 197 wooden packing cases, taken in a recent raid on branch headquarters of the Csar, a Rightist organization accused of plotting the overthrow of the French Republic (TIME, Dec. 6). The raid had also netted three Hotchkiss machine guns and 71 automatic rifles, but these cases contained hand grenades. The firing lever of each grenade was held down by a band of paper. Since many were damp, the paper bands seemed likely to break at the slightest shock.

Even the experts at the police laboratory found such grenades too dangerous to leave about. Two army trucks rumbled over from Versailles to take the grenades to a munitions depot where experts could uncap and unload them.

At 9:30 the next morning a detail of young soldiers under a Lieutenant Huisse, assisted by several municipal chemists and police, started carrying the packing cases to the waiting trucks. One clumsy soldier let a case fall. With crash after crash that broke windows a mile away, the cases exploded. The trucks were left two tangles of twisted steel in a puddle of burning oil and blood. Fourteen men were killed instantly. Parts of the bodies were blown 200 feet away. Only four of the 14 could be identified. Minister of the Interior Albert Sarraut promised a formal state funeral for the remains.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.