Gandhi Page #4

We see the throng, following the weapon-carrier bier of Gandhi

as it slowly inches its way along the Kingsway.

Mountbatten, tall, handsome, bemedalled, walks at the head

of dignitaries from many lands... and behind them a broad

mass of Indians. For a moment we see their sandalled feet

moving along the roadway and realize their quiet, rhythmic

shuffling is the only noise this vast assemblage has produced.

MURROW'S VOICE-OVER

Pope Pius, the Archbishop of

Canterbury, President Truman, Chiang

Kai-shek, The Foreign Minister of

Russia, the President of France...

are among the millions here and abroad

who have lamented his passing. In

the words of General George C.

Marshall, the American Secretary of

State, "Mahatma Gandhi had become

the spokesman for the conscience of

mankind..."

In the crowd following the bier we pick out the tall, English

figure of Mirabehn, dressed in a sari, her face taut in a

grief that seems ready to break like the Ganges in flood.

Near her a tall, heavy-set man, Germanic, still powerful of

build and mien though his white hair and deep lines suggest

a man well into his sixties (Kallenbach). He too marches

with a kind of numb air of loss that is too personal for

national mourning.

On the edge of the street an American newspaperman (Walker)

watches as the bier passes him. He has been making notes,

but his hand stops now and we see the profile of Gandhi from

his point of view as the weapon-carrier silently rolls by.

It is personal, close. Walker clenches his teeth and there

is moisture in his eyes as he looks down. He tries to bring

his attention to his pad again, but his heart is not in it

and he stares with hollow emptiness at the street and the

horde of passing feet following the bier.

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