On tour, during 1944-1945, Tudor rehearsed the only new work to be offered during the 1945 spring season at the Metropolitan. It was _Undertow_, the story of an adolescent’s neurosis, suggested to Tudor by the well-known playwright, John van Druten. It was packed with symbols, Freudian and otherwise; and my own reaction to its murky tale dealing with an Oedipus complex, a bloody bitch, a lecherous old man’s affair with a whore, a mad wedding, a group of drunken charwomen, a rape of a nasty little girl by four naughty little boys, and a shocking murder, was one of revulsion. The score was specially commissioned from the present head of the Juilliard School, the American William Schuman. The settings and costumes, as depressing as the work itself, were by the Chicago painter, Raymond Breinin. The rigors of war-time ballet travel were considerable, a constant battle to arrive on time, to be able to leave in time to arrive in time at the next city. Each day presented a new problem. But it had its comic side as well. We had played the Pacific Northwest and, after an engagement in Portland, there followed the most important engagement of the west thus far, that at the War Memorial Opera House, in San Francisco. There was immense difficulty in getting the company and its properties out of Portland at all. It should be remembered, and there is no harm pointing out that the entire railway transportation system of our country from Portland, Oregon, in the far Northwest, to New Orleans, in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, is in the hands of a single railway, thousands of miles of it single-track line, with no competition, and thus a law unto itself. For a long time, during this particular tour, this railway insisted, because of military commitments, it could not handle the company and its baggage cars from Portland to San Francisco in time for the first performance there. The reader should know that there are no reduced fares or concessions for theatrical or ballet companies. First-class fares are paid, and full rates for Pullmans and food. My representative, with a broad experience in these matters, continued to battle, and it was eventually arranged that the company would be attached in “tourist” coaches to a troop train bound for the south, but with no dining facilities for civilians and no provision for food or drink. At least, it would get them to San Francisco in time for the opening performance. So, the rickety tourist cars were attached to the troop train and the journey commenced. The artists were carefully warned by my representative that this was a troop train, that no food would be available, and that each member of the company should provide himself enough food and beverage for the journey.