 The other day, I came to Berlin again. So much has been written, so much has been said about this city, perhaps you will be interested to hear my impressions, to come with me on my journey across Berlin. Factories loom up before my eyes. And what I feel right away is the jaunty spirit, the pulse of a dynamic, forward-moving society of two and a half million people. Main shopping street, something draws my eye, a contrast to the towering glories of the modern city, a ruined, rubble church left by the Berliners as a remembrance of the wartime years and the tyranny of dictatorship. Only a glance at it and my mind goes back through the past to the last days of World War II. 1945, under the combined assaults of the Western allies on one side, the Russians from the other, Nazi Germany was vanquished. Near the Elbe River, where American forces had halted their advance on Berlin to await their Russian brothers and arms, there were fervent toast to a future world at peace. And who will ever forget the jubilant faces of the thousands of Russian prisoners of war freed by the Americans? The Nazi swastika lay trampled as hopes soared high that the allies would work together in peace, the prayer of millions of us all over the world at war's end. There was work to be done. First order had to be reestablished in the defeated country. By the Berlin Declaration of June 5, 1945, the United States, the USSR, the United Kingdom and France assumed supreme authority with respect to Germany. War's end found that their fighting had carried the British and American forces to the Elbe River, far beyond the link-up line agreed on with the Russians. In good faith, the British and Americans pulled back to the agreed line. The allies split up Germany into four occupation zones, British, American, and Russian. But Berlin, the capital, was left as a separate, distinct area, not part of any zone. It was to be administered jointly until a peace treaty permitting all Germans to decide their own government could be arranged. But since Berlin was surrounded by the Soviet zone, access had to be arranged from the western zones of occupation to Berlin through Soviet-occupied territory. That same month, June 1945, in exchange of letters between President Truman and Marshall Stalin of the USSR, led to the agreement on arrangements for use by the western powers of free and unimpeded access routes to Berlin. Specific roads, rail lines, waterways and canals, and air routes were decided upon. And so West Berlin could now start rebuilding. It was to be the creation of a new city out of the ashes and rubble of war. A new city forged by people determined to prove they could do better in freedom than under regimentation and tyranny. Thinking about all this, I can understand why the West Berliners leave this church standing, a stark and shattering symbol of the past amid the skyline of the new city all around. But more than tall buildings rising toward the sky, something else is apparent on a journey across Berlin. Something that always comes to my mind at the site of the Brandenburg Gate, the dividing line between West Berlin and the Soviet sector of East Berlin. And that something is the ever-apparent contrast between the two Berlins, East Berlin, where a look is always one of suspicion, where there are constant barriers to free movement, where everyday life is under the surveillance of the police state. If you were to enter East Berlin, you would first of all see how the children live out their days. Then here, on the free side of the border, you would contrast the buoyant hope and spirit with the somber suspicion pervading the East Berlin Soviet sector just across the border. A contrast the Soviets cannot allow the world to see. That is why they have not hesitated to use force in threat or actuality in an attempt to throttle the existence of West Berlin. I remember June 1948. Suddenly the Russians withdrew from the four-power commission. With their withdrawal, they cut off electric power. During agreements they had made, the Russians blocked off access routes. West Berlin was cut off from the free world, supplies dwindled rapidly. Although the free Berliners were resolved not to yield to Soviet pressure, the outlook was dark. The response of the non-communist world was the Berlin Airlift. For the next 11 months after the Russians left the Berliners to starve, American, British and French planes landed one after another at the airports of West Berlin. Into the besieged city came supplies of food, coal, petroleum, a massive airlift unequaled in history. There was bread again, coal to power the machines and the factories. Now there was again precious medicine for the sick, the helpless and the young. And especially for the young. Even a few candies now and then, the idea of the men who flew the airlift to sweeten those grim days a little for the kids of Berlin. I was in Berlin again during the airlift. I remember planes landing day and night. There was time for only a brief rest before the airmen flew back to West Germany for another load. And in they came again, through fog and bad weather, whatever the elements. Some brave men made their last flight in that Berlin airlift. April 1949, the planes were still coming with no end in sight. The Russian blockade was a failure. Accordingly, the Russians admitted defeat. A new agreement signed in New York between the USSR and the United States reaffirmed the removal of all restrictions on communications, transportation and trade between West Berlin and the western zones of Germany. Supplies of food came into the city again by barge, rail, road, as well as air. But the Berliners would never forget those airmen who died so Berlin could maintain freedom in her hour of peril. And near Templehof Airport stands a monument to those who made the last flight. To that bridge of friendship between the free world and the people of the city. Even a short journey across Berlin reveals how the right of free access is essential for the city to exist. The Soviets have no authority to repeal these access rights or to transfer them to a satellite power. Nor can the western allies permit this authority to be usurped by a government responsible for such events as occurred in East Berlin on June 17, 1953. Starting as a protest demonstration of 10,000 East Berliners demanding free elections and freeing of political prisoners, it spread to many East German cities and villages. 19 different city prisons were stormed. It finally took two Soviet tank divisions and almost 30,000 Soviet and East German troops to put down the revolt. Over 50,000 East Germans were arrested. Their only crime? To what the same human rights as their fellow Germans in West Berlin. And when the bodies of the 569 East German workers killed in the revolt were laid to rest, all over the two Berlins, thousands stood in somber silence as a mark of respect to their courage. The fall of 1958 brought a new USSR demand to gain control of all Germany, withdrawal of Western forces, West Berlin's conversion into what the Soviets call a free city. At the same time, the Soviet leader threatened to sign a treaty with the East German regime and turn over to it control of the access routes to West Berlin. In December 1958, the then President, White D. Eisenhower, replied for the United States that the continued protection of the freedom of the West Berliners is a right and responsibility solemnly accepted by the three Western powers. To meet these responsibilities, the three powers must remain in Berlin with unhindered rights of access between that city and West Germany. And as regards the so-called free city status for West Berlin, an election was soon to reveal how the people felt about Mr. Khrushchev's demand. The Communist Party campaigned hard right up to the day of decision. Ninety-eight percent of the voters supported parties whose program called for the continued presence of the Western forces in Berlin. Fewer than two voters in 100, 1.9 percent supported the Khrushchev demand. It was a resounding no to Moscow. So in Berlin today, I see them walk tall, stand firm, aware of their worldwide support in an issue that transcends the boundaries of their city, aware that the world knows what the Soviets mean by a free city. As President John F. Kennedy of the United States put it recently, a city does not become free, merely by calling it a free city for a city or a people to be free requires that they be given the opportunity without economic, political, or police pressure to make their own choice and live their own lives. The people of West Berlin today have that freedom. It is the objective of our policy that they will continue to enjoy it. The freedom of choice. Freedom to live their own lives. Something desired by the people of East Germany too. So unable to endure a puppet regime backed by Soviet arms, they have been voting with their feet, escaping from East Germany at the rate of 4,000 a week since the Soviet occupation began in 1946. The refugees have had to leave behind their earthly possessions, but still they come. Doctors, engineers, teachers, technicians, people with skills badly needed in the communist faltering economy. Despite no encouragement from the West, more than 4 million people out of a total East German population of 17 million have fled from Soviet domination since the post-war occupation zones were established. For them, West Berlin is a rallying point of their hope. And even for those too young to understand, West Berlin is a mirror of the benefits of a society where a child can grow in an atmosphere of freedom. He can look toward the future with hope and confidence. But on June 4, 1961, the Soviet leader repeated his threat to turn over control of the access routes to the East German satellite, whose leaders have publicly stated their intention, once this so-called peace treaty assigned, to curb West Berlin's communications with the non-communist world. So the threat flares again now, the threat to deprive West Berlin of her freedom. But by word and deed and spirit, the people of Berlin, especially the young who are being educated in schools and colleges for the challenges of tomorrow, speak out strongly for the freedom which is their desire. It is no accident that their outstanding university is called Free University. The Western Allies are committed to safeguard the freedom and safety of these beleaguered people. And as I watch the units parade, I realize once again that the allied military presence is a symbol of the free world's determination not to abandon West Berlin. Firm in this resolve, there is still the hope that the Soviets will not plunge a world into war for the sake not only of the military men who would be involved directly, but for the millions who yearn for peace and freedom for our time and our children's time. Here in Berlin and everywhere, man draws breath upon this earth.