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Down the Great West Road from London Airport, on 417 through Hounslow, Chiswick, Hammersmith and South Kensington, the dove-grey, open-top Rolls-Royce rolled into the heart of the great grey city. A small Stars and Stripes fluttered from the left fender; the license plate read "U.S.A. 1." From hundreds of thousands of Londoners thronging outside rows of semidetached brick houses, leaning out of town mansions, tumbling out of pubs, standing six deep in Hyde Park, the shouts went up: "Glad to see you, Ike," "Welcome," "Good for you, Ike." As the Rolls-Royce rolled into Grosvenor Square, from which General Eisenhower had directed his victorious World War II armies (G.I.s called the square "Eisenhower Platz"), a husky, shirtsleeved man said: "We like him because we remember him from the war—that's why." As President Dwight Eisenhower stood West Point straight, arms spread high and wide above him, an old lady said: "My, he looks better—after being so sick and all."
That was London. Germany, in the previous 24 hours, had poured out its emotions, too. There the President's car had been a Mercedes-Benz 300, and his greeting came from towns—Troisdorf, Plittersdorf, Bonn—that had been conquered by the U.S. First Army. But in old foe Germany, as in old ally Britain, the crowds made plain their confidence in Dwight Eisenhower as the free-world leader best qualified to quest for peace based upon strength and principle. Everywhere, the banners proclaimed, WE TRUST YOU and WE RELY ON YOU.
Basic Acceptance. At 68, in the seventh year of his Administration, President Eisenhower was winning one of the greatest personal ovations ever given by Europeans. In Great Britain the outpouring was in a large sense a heartwarming welcome to an old, tried friend. In West Germany the turnout was for a onetime conqueror who had become a stout ally, boosted German pride and self-respect, assured U.S. support, guaranteed that Germany's new-found democratic freedom would sot be traded off in big-power parleys. In France this week new tumults awaited Dwight Eisenhower, not only as the liberator of 1944 but as a statesman willing to help France realize its aspirations for a return to national greatness.
For Eisenhower, the return to Europe was an occasion of deep sentiment, and more than once, newsmen thought they saw the trace of tears in his eyes. But the meaning of Ike's trip went far beyond his personal feeling for Europe, or its feeling for him. In the very shouts and cheers lay a basic acceptance of the President's ability to deal with Nikita Khrushchev during their coming exchange of visits. That acceptance came from the realization of Dwight Eisenhower's achievements and stature as President of the U.S.