Cheers

Walter Cronkite, traveling with Mr. Nixon, put it well. The large warm crowds that lined Mr. Nixon’s motorcade and railroad routes in Egypt reminded Mr. Cronkite of the boisterous, affectionate crowds he mingled with as a young war correspondent three decades ago while covering the progress of the liberating American forces through Europe near the end of World War II.

Ah, those were the days, the uncomplicated days before Mr. Cronkite and others were referred to as “the media,” before Mr. Cronkite’s current medium existed, when broadcasting was radio broadcasting, when the heroes of broadcast journalism were William Shirer speaking from a blacked-out Berlin, Edward R. Murrow describing the blitz from a London rooftop, and a young comer named Eric Sevareid covering the liberation of Rome. The scenes they were describing 30 years ago today, while American forces struggled up Italy and broke out of Normandy, and their broadcast descriptions of them, are some of the most cherished memories of Americans over 50 years old—Americans who were in Europe, fighting, and Americans who were at home, listening. By God, look at those crowds strewing flowers on that tank as it clanks through the village rolling east toward Berlin. Listen to how clearly the crowd’s cheering comes through the old Philco radio console.

About the Author

George F. Will

George F. Will has been a columnist, beginning with National Review, since 1973.

Featured Tags

Walter Cronkite, traveling with Mr. Nixon, put it well. The large warm crowds that lined Mr. Nixon’s motorcade and railroad routes in Egypt reminded Mr. Cronkite of the boisterous, affectionate crowds he mingled with as a young war correspondent three decades ago while covering the progress of the liberating American forces through Europe near the end of World War II.

Ah, those were the days, the uncomplicated days before Mr. Cronkite and others were referred to as “the media,” before Mr. Cronkite’s current medium existed, when broadcasting was radio broadcasting, when the heroes of broadcast journalism were William Shirer speaking from a blacked-out Berlin, Edward R. Murrow describing the blitz from a London rooftop, and a young comer named Eric Sevareid covering the liberation of Rome. The scenes they were describing 30 years ago today, while American forces struggled up Italy and broke out of Normandy, and their broadcast descriptions of them, are some of the most cherished memories of Americans over 50 years old—Americans who were in Europe, fighting, and Americans who were at home, listening. By God, look at those crowds strewing flowers on that tank as it clanks through the village rolling east toward Berlin. Listen to how clearly the crowd’s cheering comes through the old Philco radio console.