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If you have ever written a paper at school or work, you know how General Eisenhower felt. He knew what he wanted to say, but finding just the right words didn’t come easily. He wanted to give it his personal best because he was about to be honored by the City of London for his leadership in the great victory of the Allied forces over Nazi Germany in World War II. The ceremony at the ancient Guildhall would be attended by most of Britain’s leaders, including Prime Minister Winston Churchill, who had extended the invitation to Ike. Eisenhower would, of course, have to give an acceptance speech and that was what he was struggling to write.
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Instead of turning to his talented staff for a draft of the speech, Ike decided to write it himself. Taking pad and pencil in hand, he wrote and rewrote, crossing out lines and scribbling new ones. One can judge his commitment by the substantial amount of his personal time he devoted to the project. Each morning, his staff typed a clean draft for him to rewrite. This would be his first major postwar public address, and Eisenhower was feeling the pressure of this prestigious occasion.
He might never have been satisfied with his speech had it not been for a visit from an old friend, Frank Page. For years Page, a Vice President of International Telephone and Telegraph Company, had been an informal advisor to Ike on communication matters. Eisenhower wanted to get Page’s input on the current draft of the speech, but had misplaced it. In the course of explaining the idea of the speech, however, Eisenhower ended up quoting the whole thing from memory.
That did it. Ike said, “Frank, whether this is any good or not, it’s done. As long as I can do this without notes, I’m ready.”
On the day of the ceremony, Eisenhower was still feeling a bit nervous so he decided to get some time alone in the park adjacent to his hotel. As he quickly learned, however, he had become a celebrity. A cab driver recognized him and asked for his autograph. His passengers wanted one too. Soon more people came over to meet him, get his autograph, or just shake his hand. The police finally had to form a “flying wedge” in order to move through the crowd and retrieve the trapped general.
That evening Eisenhower arrived in a horse-drawn carriage accompanied by his Operation Overlord deputy, Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Tedder. The stately Guildhall, all stone and stained-glass windows, full of solemn monuments and imposing decorations was an awesome venue. The hall was jam-packed with Britain’s elite, and the Sexton and Lord Mayor of London presided over the ceremony in full regalia, complete with wigs and a six-hundred-year-old mace. They presented Ike with a curved, jewel-encrusted Wellington Sword, which was only a stand-in for his real gift, a Crusader sword engraved with emblems, including the British Order of Merit.
As Eisenhower began his speech the Guildhall grew silent. He spoke without a manuscript. “Humility,” he said, “must always be the portion of any man who receives acclaim earned in the blood of his followers and sacrifices of his friends.” He described the “treasures free men possess,” binding the American and British people together, and affirmed that neither country would “sell her birthright for physical safety, her liberty for mere existence.”
To the British and many other peoples around the world, Eisenhower had come to epitomize America, its democracy and its culture with his straightforward, simple confidence in integrity and decency. He had previously won the affection and respect of his soldiers, officers and political leaders. Now he had won the affection of his audience and all those who heard or read his speech. Characteristically, he identified himself with the land he loved. He simply said, “I come from the very heart of America.”
Eisenhower concluded with a hopeful view of the future, and that too was typically American. He looked forward to a world in which the values of freedom would fill the hearts of all men. He looked forward to an age in which “we beat our swords into plowshares and all nations can enjoy the fruitfulness of the earth.”
To those who heard it then and who read it now, the Guildhall Speech perfectly captures Ike’s pride in his service, regret in the horrors of war, and hope for a peaceful future. The next day, in what Eisenhower called, “an excess of friendly misjudgment,” the London newspapers compared the speech to Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. Not bad for his first formal speech on the global stage.
To read the full text of the Guildhall speech click here.
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