American Valor Quarterly Issue 6 - Spring/Summer 2009 | Page 9

that countryside, the honored guest of a city whose name stands for grandeur and size throughout the world. Hardly would it seem possible for the London council to have gone farther afield to find a man to honor with its priceless gift of token citizenship.” Then he turned to the subjects that had drawn so many millions to fight: the shared values of freedom and decency. He talked of “those inner things – call them what you will – I mean those intangibles that are the real treasures free men possess. To preserve his freedom of worship, his equality before the law, his liberty to speak and act as he sees fit, subject only to provisions that he trespass not upon similar rights of others – a Londoner will fight. So will a citizen of Abilene.” He praised the way in which the British had borne the Nazi onslaught. “What man who has followed the history of this war could fail to experience an inspiration from the people of this city? When the British Empire stood – alone but unconquered, almost naked but unafraid – to deny the Hitler hordes, it was on this devoted city that the first terroristic blows were launched. Five years and eight months of war, much of it on the actual battle-line, blitzes big and little, flying V-bombs – all of them you took in your stride. You worked, and from your needed efforts you would not be deterred. You carried on, and from your midst arose no cry for mercy, no wail of defeat. The Battle of Britain will take its place as another of your deathless traditions.” General Eisenhower greets the throngs gathered outside the Mansion House following his Guildhall Address. The speech was Eisenhower’s first major public address, coming exactly one year after he first set food in Normandy. The massive tribute accented his metoric rise from an unknown brigadier general in 1941 to commander of Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force (SHAEF) and the rank of five-star general. sacrifices of his friends.” Ike acknowledged the great British tribute – the personal honor that was his. But he continued to qualify his acceptance of the honor. In measured words, he expressed the overwhelming grief that he had felt the year before on the eve of D-Day. He had known all along that his orders would send brave men to their graves. That was inevitable. But he felt the responsibility so keenly at the time that he drafted a message accepting the blame – the full blame – if the invasion should fail. Corbis So he continued that day in the Guildhall: “Conceivably a commander may have been professionally superior. He may have given everything of his heart and mind to meet the spiritual and physical needs of his comrades. He may have written a chapter that will glow forever in the pages of military history. Still, even such a man – if he existed – would sadly face the facts that his honors cannot hide in his memories the crosses marking the resting places of the dead. They cannot soothe the anguish of the widow or the orphan whose husband or father will not return.” Then he turned to the only subject that could mitigate the terrible losses: the righteousness of the cause for which his brave men fought. He talked of the distance through which the great crisis of war had drawn him and many others to London, to the English Channel, and to France. “I am not a native of this land. I come from the very heart of America. In the superficial aspects by which we ordinarily recognize family relationships