Victory In Europe: How the News Came

On the morning of Monday, May 7, while the East Coast was going to work, while the West Coast still slept, radios across the U.S. blared out the announcement of Germany's new foreign minister, Count Lutz Schwerin von Krosigk, that Germany had surrendered unconditionally. This was the first news that the end had come.

Less than an hour later, breathless newscasters had the definitive word. They broke in with an A.P. flash: ALLIES OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCED GERMANY SURRENDERED UNCONDITIONALLY. The statement that there had been an Allied announcement was untrue, but the surrender of Germany was a fact; the words that came boiling over the wires definitely documented it. The newscasters followed immediately with the now famed story by A.P.'s Edward Kennedy.

Reporter Kennedy, who had somehow got his story through—apparently in violation of a pledge of silence by all SHAEF newsmen—had so many facts that few doubted his story. Hearing the news—which in no wise resembled the A.P.'s phony peace bulletin of nine days before —the people of the U.S. and the world quietly rejoiced.

Then began the still unexplained workings of international politics. SHAEF announced that the A.P. story was unauthorized—but it did not deny that it was true. Officially, the surrender simply had not taken place, but hour after hour confirmation piled up. The loudspeakers in front of 10 Downing Street were tested. The German commander in Norway ordered his men to lay down their arms. The American Broadcasting Station in Europe (ABSIE) flatly said: "The war is officially over."

Cheers for Victory. Only the Allied statesmen were silent. From Paris came the announcement that the A.P. had been suspended from filing any further news from the European Theater of Operations. A few took this as an indication that A.P. might have been wrong. But A.P., hot under the collar and sure of its facts, rushed in to join the issue. Cried A.P. President Kent Cooper, determined crusader for freedom of the press: "This suppression cuts squarely across the fundamental rights respecting freedom of information. . . . Vigorous representations have been made. . . . The right of peoples everywhere to know is at stake."

There were many—and not only newsmen—who agreed with the A.P.

After the Fact. There was no immediate explanation why the official news was held up. Downing Street was mum; the White House was coy and confused. Best guess was that Joe Stalin had held up the joint announcement either because: 1) his Ukrainian armies still faced a small segment of determined Nazis in Moravia, or 2) he was not yet ready to set off Russia's victory celebration. Finally, from London, came word that the official announcement would come the following day. Thus, for the history books, May 8, 1945, became V-E day.

When that day came, Winston Churchill stepped to a microphone in London. His rolling periods swept across the world by short wave. With deep emotion he said: "We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing, but let us not forget for a moment the toils and efforts that lie ahead. . . . Advance, Britain! Long live the cause of freedom! God save the King!"

From Moscow, for some unexplained reason, there was no immediate announcement.