美国20世纪伟大的100篇演讲Douglas MacArthur - Thayer Award Address
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    AmericanRhetoric.com


    Douglas MacArthur: Thayer Award Address


    delivered
    12
    May
    1962,
    West
    Point,
    NY


    AUTHENTICITY CERTIFIED:
    Text
    version below
    transcribed
    directly
    from
    audio

    General
    Westmoreland, General Grove, distinguished guests, and gentlemen of the Corps!


    As
    I was leaving the hotel
    this morning, a doorman asked me, "Where are you bound for,
    General?" And when
    I replied, "West Point," he remarked, "Beautiful place. Have you ever
    been there before?"

    No human being could fail to be deeply moved by such a tribute as this [Thayer Award].
    Coming from a profession I
    have served so long, and a people I have loved so well, it fills me
    with an emotion
    I cannot express. But
    this award is not intended primarily to
    honor a
    personality, but
    to symbolize a great moral
    code the
    code of conduct and chivalry of those
    who guard this beloved land of culture and ancient descent. That is the animation of this
    medallion. For all eyes and for all
    time, it is an expression of the ethics of the American
    soldier. That I
    should be integrated in this way with so
    noble an ideal arouses a sense of pride
    and yet of humility which will be with me always: Duty, Honor, Country.

    Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what
    you will be. They are your rallying points: to build courage when courage seems to
    fail. to
    regain faith when
    there seems to be little cause
    for faith. to create hope when
    hope becomes
    forlorn.

    Unhappily, I possess neither that
    eloquence of diction, that poetry of imagination, nor that
    brilliance of metaphor to
    tell you all
    that
    they mean. The unbelievers will say they are but
    words, but a slogan, but a flamboyant phrase.
    Every pedant, every demagogue, every cynic,
    every hypocrite,
    every troublemaker, and I am sorry to say, some others of an entirely
    different
    character, will
    try to downgrade them
    even to
    the extent of mockery and ridicule.


    But
    these are some of the things they do. They build your basic character. They mold you for
    your future roles as the custodians of the nation's defense. They make you strong enough to
    know when you are weak, and brave enough
    to
    face yourself when you are afraid. They teach
    you
    to be proud and unbending in honest failure, but humble and gentle in success. not to
    substitute words for actions, not to seek the path of comfort, but to
    face the stress and spur
    of difficulty and challenge. to
    learn
    to stand up in the storm but
    to have compassion on those
    who fall. to
    master yourself before you seek to
    master others. to have a heart that is clean, a
    goal that is high. to
    learn
    to laugh, yet
    never forget how to weep. to reach into
    the future yet
    never neglect the past. to be serious yet never to take yourself too seriously. to
    be modest so
    that you will remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the
    meekness of true strength.


    Transcription by
    Michael
    E. Eidenmuller. Property
    of AmericanRhetoric.com. . Copyright 2006. All rights reserved.
    Page
    1



    AmericanRhetoric.com


    They give you a temper of the will, a quality of the imagination, a
    vigor of the emotions, a
    freshness of the deep springs of life, a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity,
    of an appetite for adventure over love of ease. They create in your heart
    the sense of wonder,
    the unfailing hope of what
    next, and the joy and inspiration of life. They teach you in this way
    to be an officer and a gentleman.

    And what sort of soldiers are those you are to lead? Are they reliable? Are they brave? Are
    they capable of victory? Their story is known
    to
    all of you. It
    is the story of the American
    manatarms.
    My estimate of him was formed on the battlefield many, many years ago, and has
    never changed. I regarded him then as I regard him now as
    one of the world's noblest
    figures, not only as one of the finest
    military characters, but also as one of the most stainless.
    His name and fame are the birthright of every American citizen. In
    his youth and strength, his
    love and loyalty, he gave all
    that
    mortality can give.

    He needs no eulogy from me or from any other man. He has written his own
    history and
    written
    it in red on his enemy's breast. But when I think of his patience under adversity, of his
    courage under fire, and of his modesty in victory, I am filled with an emotion of admiration I
    cannot put into words. He belongs to history as furnishing one of the greatest
    examples of
    successful patriotism. He belongs to posterity as the instructor of future generations in the
    principles of liberty and freedom. He belongs to
    the present, to us, by his virtues and by his
    achievements. In
    20
    campaigns, on a hundred battlefields, around a thousand campfires, I
    have witnessed that enduring fortitude,
    that patriotic selfabnegation,
    and that invincible
    determination which
    have carved his statue in the hearts of his people. From one end of the
    world to
    the other he has drained deep the chalice of courage.


    As
    I
    listened to
    those songs [of the glee club], in memory's eye I could see those staggering
    columns of the First
    World War, bending under soggy packs, on many a weary march
    from
    dripping dusk to drizzling dawn, slogging ankledeep
    through the mire of shellshocked
    roads,
    to form grimly for the attack, bluelipped,
    covered with sludge and mud, chilled by the wind
    and rain, driving home to
    their objective, and for many, to the judgment
    seat of God.


    I do
    not
    know
    the dignity of their birth, but I do
    know
    the glory of their death. They died
    unquestioning,
    uncomplaining, with
    faith in their hearts, and on
    their lips the hope that we
    would go on
    to victory. Always, for them: Duty, Honor, Country. always their blood and sweat
    and tears, as we sought the way and the light and the truth.

    And 20 years after, on the other side of the globe, again
    the filth of murky foxholes, the
    stench of ghostly trenches, the slime of dripping dugouts. those boiling suns of relentless
    heat, those torrential rains of devastating storms. the loneliness and utter desolation of jungle
    trails. the bitterness of long separation from those they loved and cherished. the deadly
    pestilence of tropical disease. the horror of stricken areas of war. their resolute and
    determined defense, their swift and sure attack, their indomitable purpose, their complete and
    decisive victory always
    victory. Always through
    the bloody haze of their last reverberating
    shot, the vision of gaunt, ghastly men reverently following your password of: Duty, Honor,
    Country.


    Transcription by
    Michael
    E. Eidenmuller. Property
    of AmericanRhetoric.com. . Copyright 2006. All rights reserved.
    Page
    2



    AmericanRhetoric.com


    The code which
    those words perpetuate embraces the highest moral
    laws and will
    stand the
    test of any ethics or philosophies ever promulgated for the uplift of mankind. Its requirements
    are for the things that are right, and its restraints are from the things that are wrong.


    The soldier, above all other men, is required to
    practice the greatest act of religious training sacrifice.


    In battle and in the face of danger and death, he discloses those divine attributes which
    his
    Maker gave when he created man
    in his own
    image. No physical
    courage and no brute instinct
    can take the place of the Divine help which alone can sustain
    him.

    However horrible the incidents of war may be, the soldier who is called upon
    to offer and to
    give his life for his country is the noblest development of mankind.


    You
    now face a new world a
    world of change.
    The thrust into outer space of the satellite,
    spheres, and missiles mark the beginning of another epoch
    in the long story of mankind. In
    the five or more billions of years the scientists tell us it
    has taken to
    form the earth, in the
    three or more billion
    years of development of the human race, there has never been a more
    abrupt or staggering evolution. We deal now
    not with
    things of this world alone,
    but with
    the
    illimitable distances and as yet
    unfathomed mysteries of the universe.
    We are reaching out for
    a new and boundless frontier.

    We speak in strange terms: of harnessing the cosmic energy. of making winds and tides work
    for us. of creating unheard synthetic materials to supplement or even replace our old standard
    basics. to purify sea water for our drink. of mining ocean
    floors for new fields of wealth and
    food. of disease preventatives to expand life into the hundreds of years. of controlling the
    weather for a more equitable distribution of heat and cold, of rain and shine. of space ships to
    the moon. of the primary target
    in war, no longer limited to the armed forces of an enemy,
    but instead
    to include his civil populations. of ultimate conflict between a united human race
    and the sinister forces of some other planetary galaxy. of such dreams and fantasies as to
    make life the most exciting of all
    time.

    And through all this welter of change and development, your mission
    remains fixed,
    determined,
    inviolable: it
    is to win our wars.

    Everything else in your professional career is but corollary to this vital dedication. All other
    public purposes, all other public projects, all other public needs, great or small, will find others
    for their accomplishment. But
    you are the ones who are trained to fight. Yours is the
    profession of arms, the will
    to win, the sure knowledge that in war there is no substitute for
    victory. that if you
    lose, the nation will be destroyed. that the very obsession of your public
    service must be: Duty, Honor, Country.

    Others will debate the controversial
    issues, national and international, which divide men's
    minds. but serene, calm, aloof, you stand as the Nation's warguardian,
    as its lifeguard from
    the raging tides of international
    conflict, as its gladiator in
    the arena of battle.


    Transcription by
    Michael
    E. Eidenmuller. Property
    of AmericanRhetoric.com. . Copyright 2006. All rights reserved.
    Page
    3



    AmericanRhetoric.com


    For a century and a half you
    have defended, guarded, and protected its hallowed traditions of
    liberty and freedom, of right and justice.

    Let civilian voices argue the merits or demerits
    of our processes of government. whether our
    strength is being sapped by deficit
    financing,
    indulged in too long, by federal paternalism
    grown too
    mighty, by power groups grown
    too arrogant, by politics grown
    too corrupt, by
    crime grown
    too rampant, by morals grown too
    low, by taxes grown
    too high, by extremists
    grown too
    violent. whether our personal liberties are as thorough and complete as they should
    be. These great national problems are not for your professional participation or military
    solution. Your guidepost stands out
    like a tenfold
    beacon in the night: Duty, Honor, Country.

    You are the leaven which binds together the entire fabric of our national system of defense.
    From your ranks come the great captains who hold the nation's destiny in their hands the
    moment
    the war tocsin sounds. The Long Gray Line has never failed us. Were you to do so, a
    million
    ghosts in olive drab,
    in brown khaki, in blue and gray, would rise from their white
    crosses thundering those magic words: Duty, Honor, Country.

    This does not
    mean that you are war mongers.

    On
    the contrary, the soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and
    bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.


    But always in our ears ring the ominous words of Plato, that wisest of all philosophers: "Only
    the dead
    have seen the end of war."

    The shadows are lengthening for me. The twilight is here. My days of old have vanished,
    tone
    and tint. They have gone glimmering through the dreams of things that were.
    Their memory is
    one of wondrous beauty, watered by tears, and coaxed and caressed by the smiles of
    yesterday. I
    listen
    vainly, but with thirsty ears, for the witching melody of faint bugles blowing
    reveille, of far drums beating the long roll. In my dreams I
    hear again
    the crash of guns, the
    rattle of musketry, the strange,
    mournful mutter of the battlefield.


    But
    in the evening of my memory, always I come back to
    West Point.

    Always there echoes and reechoes:
    Duty, Honor, Country.

    Today marks my final roll call with
    you, but I want you to
    know
    that when
    I cross the river my
    last conscious thoughts will be of The Corps, and The Corps, and The Corps.

    I bid you farewell.


    Transcription by
    Michael
    E. Eidenmuller. Property
    of AmericanRhetoric.com. . Copyright 2006. All rights reserved.
    Page
    4


     

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