World Battlefronts: WHILE CAIRO FIDDLED

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On the day that Matrûh fell, TIME received the following cable from its Correspondent Walter Graebner, who had paused in Cairo on his way to Russia:

If these are the last hours of Cairo they are certainly glorious hours. The days are hot, but not sizzling hot, and the nights are cool, brightened by a gigantic bomber's moon, which makes the Pyramids visible miles away.

In theory Cairo is blacked out from dusk to dawn. Actually there exists something between a dimout and peacetime illumination. From about half the buildings lights gleam through the large open windows. Street lamps have been extinguished, but cars have bright blue head lamps. There is little fear of air raids. The so-called warnings are pathetic horn toolings. The other day at high noon the British and American pedestrians completely ignored them.

Pomp, Not Panic. Although Hitler is supposed to have boasted that the Germans will be in Alexandria by July 8 and in Cairo by the 13th, there are practically no signs of evacuation or panic. The American Embassy and Military Mission Headquarters function with the same cool efficiency which characterized them when the enemy was well on the other side of Tobruk.

The bazaars are jammed with natives and visitors, examining huge stocks of fabrics, jewels and trinkets of all kinds.

Egyptians still have endless time for pomp and ceremony. This weekend the entire village of Mena gathered for two days in the shadows of the Pyramids to celebrate the wedding of a village son.

It was obvious that the thought never occurred to them that they might soon be slaves of Nazi Germany. A few days ago a large section of the Cairo fire brigade, dressed in the finest robes, marched through the streets before and behind a shiny red hose wagon, on which rested a bedecked coffin.

Ravishing beauties in Cairo's biggest air-conditioned department store stand behind counters loaded with perfumes, nylon stockings, leather goods, flashlights, cameras. Americans and Britons flock to Saint James's restaurant for thick, juicy steaks. Menus in all the best restaurants list hors d'oeuvres, fish, entrees, desserts and coffee, and most people order right down the list. Fashionables dine at the Continental Roof Garden, where Hekmet, the famed and sexy belly-dancer, excites the audience nightly.

The War and Shepheard's. But there are plenty of signs of war in Cairo. Long lines of dust-covered ambulances can be seen rolling silently into town, bearing wounded to the hospitals. In the opposite direction rumble convoys of men and materials to reinforce the Eighth Army. Men with bandaged limbs and heads sit on the porches of hotels awaiting their chance to go to the front again. Tanks can crush British bodies, but nothing seems able to crush their spirit. In one hospital there is a young Tommy who won great fame as one of England's best swimmers. He will never swim again. Both his legs have been amputated. Yet he is happy to be alive and thinks he is luckier than most because he has just received a letter with news that his wife got a job as postmistress in their Surrey village. Cairo is full of men made of the same stuff.