Edward R. Murrow: Ethics In Practice

Ethics in Practice:

Analysis of Edward R. Murrow's WWII Radio Reporting


Donald G. Godfrey, Ph.D.
Walter Cronkite School of Journalism & Telecommunication
Arizona State University
Tempe, AZ 85287-1305


Prepared for the Journal of Mass Media Ethics

Ethics in Practice: Analysis of Edward R. Murrow's WWII Radio Reporting


Edward R. Murrow's reputation began and grew with World War II. This analysis is focused on his radio reporting and concerns two reports filed after he accompanied a bombing mission over Germany. The two reports provide a unique analytic opportunity as their foundation is in a singular experience. It is an analysis of the decision process, with ethical questions central to the development of the story. It is an application of classical ethical theory to a historical object for the purposes of creating an understanding of media heritage and the application of moral philosophy. Murrow's reporting reflects the demands of the classical theorist and Leslie's assumptions. He developed a purposefully created experience to "bring the reality of the war home to America."
Ethics in Practice: Analysis of Edward R. Murrow's WWII Radio Reporting
Edward R. Murrow's most publicized wartime account aired December 3, 1943. It was a flight from England over Berlin which he described as a "kind of orchestrated hell, a terrible symphony of light and flame" (Phonoarchive Tape No. 774-775). Winston Churchill said of the report, "If I had been the president of CBS, Mr. Murrow wouldn't have been allowed to go on that journey, but it produced one of the finest pieces of writing that I have ever seen for many a long day" (Kendrick, 1969, p. 262). William S. Paley, who was the president of CBS, actually had forbidden Murrow to accompany the bombing missions, but the day after he was "grounded," he was flying over Berlin (Kendrick, 1969, p. 262).
Murrow's reputation began and grew with World War II. His colleagues at that time considered him both a fearless and a foolhardy reporter. He seemed to take little notice of the risk involved in wartime reporting, but described the bombing of London from the rooftops and many times risked his life for an eyewitness account. Edward R. Murrow made more than 5,000 radio and television broadcasts, beginning with a report of Hitler's seizure of Austria and ending with observations on the inaugural address of President John F. Kennedy. Over 500 reports of this were filed during World War II. Anyone who listened to the news of World War II will remember his salutation, "This is London." Beginning with his appointment as CBS European news director in February, 1937, Edward R. Murrow grew with radio news. However, in 1937, Murrow was not a reporter, nor was he sent to Europe to be a reporter. He went abroad as "an arranger to talks and a supervisor of events" (Kendrick, 1969, p. 139). Little thought was ever given to the possibility that Murrow himself would become involved in the coverage of war events; as an arranger he was "merely to get other people to expound upon the European situation" (Kendrick, 1969, p. 139).
Radio news had scarcely existed before 1937. Perhaps due to the frustration of press-radio war of 1933-35, radio had resorted to arranging events, commentary, and re-creating news material. However, World War II put an end to the manufactured arrangement of events and Murrow, with others, began reporting "live from the battlefield" (Godfrey, 1990, pp. 164-172). Kendrick indicated that in comparison with other broadcasters, Murrow always came closer to the dramatic and human element, furnishing accounts which were clear and to the point (Kendrick, 1969, p. 178). In contrast to his colleagues, he not only presented the news, he discussed it. He combined with information, the humanistic elements and brought about a vicarious experience for his audience. Murrow's broadcasts likewise contributed to the unity of England and America, bringing home "the total impact of World War II." As Archibald MacLeish said, he "destroyed the superstition of distance and of time--of difference and of time" (Jones, 1973, p. 88).
Larry Z. Leslie in his ethical analysis of Murrow indicated that it was Murrow's individual code of ethics which shaped his reporting. "It is a conscious and consistent application of these beliefs that sets Murrow apart..." (Leslie, 1988, p. 10). He described these beliefs as Murrow's ethical standards and summarized them as follows:
Our existence is God-given, human knowledge results from life experiences, morality is a code by which one regulates life, reality is the observed state of men and the world, integrity is the application of morality to reality; and, reason is the analytical means by which one makes decision. (pp. 11-14)
It would seem that Murrow's ethic standards, as described by Leslie, were indeed a part of his reporting style in television and his earlier radio reporting.
This analysis is focused on Murrow's radio reporting and concerns two reports filed after a February 25, 1944 bombing flight Murrow experienced with Colonel Kelly. On that day, Murrow flew with Kelly from London over Belgium to St. Trond in an air raid on a German aircraft plant. The first report Murrow delivered was within the body of a regularly scheduled newscast, The CBS World News Roundup (Phonoarchive Tape No. 2934). The second was developed as a feature correspondent's report (Phonoarchive Tape No. 779). These two radio broadcasts provide a unique analytic opportunity as they have their foundation in a singular experience.
This study examines these two radio broadcasts utilizing and extending Leslie's ethical criteria as a framework. Leslie's work stopped short of Murrow's radio reporting--he applied his ethical assumptions only to a discussion of Murrow's television reporting. This analysis seeks to descriptively examine Murrow's ethical practices as they were exercised in the development of these different radio reports. It is an analysis of the decision-making process with the ethical questions central to the development of radio news during World War II. It is the application of ethical theory to a historical object for the purpose of creating an understanding of media heritage and the application of moral philosophy.
Historical Analysis of Ethical Communications
In analyzing the historical works of Murrow, it is necessary to extend Leslie's framework of ethical theory. Leslie's generalizations were close to the mark, but his arguments could be strengthened through a further exploration of the classical theorists. Leslie's assumptions, as noted, begin with six elements selected from and based in the Judeo-Christian values system. Lambeth cited these values as firsts in his attempt to develop a framework for journalism ethics (Lambeth, 1992, p. 23). Extending these assumptions, it is noteworthy that the foundation of ethical theory, according to Lambeth, rests in the array of "classical [and communication] approaches of deontology and teleology" (p. 24). This broader based theory is often overlooked by the scholars of journalism ethics. Communications scholars, on the other hand, have long used classical theories as methods for analysis. There are noticeable parallels similar on Lambeth's "system of journalism ethics" (p. 32) in Jaksa and Pritchard's communication methods of analysis (pp. 32-33). Truth, justice, freedom, and humanism all form philosophical discussions related back to classical theory. The challenge in this essay is to bridge the classical theory as it applies to our objects within World War II history.
One of the unfortunate roadblocks common to journalism history and the utilization of classical theory in ethical and media evaluations is a misunderstanding of the term "rhetoric." The term rhetoric today, especially to the media practitioner--and too often the journalism scholar--takes on the derogatory meaning of "mere rhetoric" or "political rhetoric," meaning empty words. In contrast, classical theory denotes the term "rhetoric" as synonymous with "persuasion." The study of rhetoric as classically defined is "the faculty of observing in any given case the available means of persuasion" (Aristotle's Rhetoric, 1355b, 26-27). Assuming this definition, rhetorical theory can be seen very much akin to ethical theory. The theoretical purist may resist the coupling of classical rhetoric and ethical theory. However, it does provide a unique perspective to a journalistic object of communication.
To relate the principles of ethical theory as found in the classical "rhetorical" philosophy, look at the similarities between the principle quadrant of the "Potter Box," as described by Christians (Christians, Rotzoll and Fackler, Media Ethics, 1987, pp. 2-9) and the classical dialectic. In building his case, Potter himself cites the theories of Aristotle and Plato (Christians, pp. 11-12). Similarly, Jaksa and Lambeth find foundations of ethical theory within classical literature (Jaksa & Pritchard, 1988, p. 33; Lambeth, 1992, p. 24).
The classical Greeks had an attraction for what today we call ethical theory. Note the similar topics: God, right conduct, terms, education, knowledge, humanism, etc. The key to the "Socratic method" was a dialectical definition of terms (Murphy, 1972, p. 17). Central to Isocrates teaching was a belief in God (Antidosis, 118) and a cultural theory which included education, knowledge and philosophy (Antidosis, 119). It is noteworthy that for Isocrates the term philosophy meant "gymnastics of the mind" (Antidosis, 266) with its primary purpose being to persuade the "right conduct of man and citizen" (Antidosis, 87-88). Plato's teachings in Phaedrus and Gorgias indicate that the cure for societies' ills was in man's expert knowledge--the purpose of persuasion being to influence the soul. Aristotle indicated the source of knowledge started with intuition (Posterior Analytics, 72a 6) with persuasion based clearly in a demonstration (Rhetoric, 1355a 4). Cicero was different in his formal treatment of persuasive theory because he incorporated a humanistic approach. According to Cicero, to be persuasive, the object must reflect the varieties of human natures, the methods of calming the minds, history, government, philosophy, and ethics (De Oratore, I, 165, 202).
In broadening Leslie's basic assumptions, this study draws upon the classical theorists, relating these theoretical principles to the ethical decisions of Edward R. Murrow. Bryant noted that today's radio reporter had to have the same skills the classicists had to survive (Bryant, 1968, pp. 11-12). Clearly Murrow not only had the presentation skills, but was making ethical decisions in the development of the specific reports under question. In his news report, he sought to inform; in contrast, in the correspondent's report, his purpose was to persuade.
In order to evaluate the choices made in developing these two broadcasts, understanding the historical environment is important. This will be followed by a comparative analysis of Murrow's reports. The ethical philosophy of Cicero provides the theoretical base of analysis. The two reports of February 25, 1944, have both been transcribed so as to provide a comparative analysis as they relate to each other. However, instead of a line-by-line analysis of the grammar and syntax of the reports, the posture of this paper is the comparison and development of ideas, a reflection of ethical assumptions in the World War II radio reports of Edward R. Murrow.
"This is London"
The years 1943 and 1944 were peak war ones for the Allied war effort. Americans helped drive the Germans from North Africa, and Italy surrendered to the Allies. In 1944 talk about an ultimate victory began. This was supported by increasing Allied success in both Europe and the Pacific. D-day was just three months away when Murrow made these broadcasts. Allied Soviet forces had gained twenty miles on the German northern front and forty towns were captured. Flights of bombers thundered deep into Germany to halt Hitler's aircraft production. Heavy fighting was reported in an Allied air raid over a Messerschmitt factory (Phonoarchive Tape No. 2934).
Set against the backdrop of a heavy air war in both the European and Pacific theaters, Murrow's broadcasts of February 25 are particularly illustrative of his ethical considerations (see Appendix for text). The news report is shorter. It is less emotive, but it contains more information. The correspondent's report, which might be classified as a personality news feature, focused on Murrow's experience. It was heavily laden with emotion, dramatization, and imagery.
There is some confusion as to the exact time the two reports were broadcast. It appeared that the correspondent's report was aired on the CBS network at 5:15 p.m. Eastern War Time. The broadcast time can be verified by a physical examination of the recording disc which shows it was received at KIRO in Seattle between 2:15 and 3:30 p.m. According to the Seattle Times (February 24, 1944) and Seattle Post Intelligencer (February 25, 1944), the "War Correspondent" report was scheduled locally for 6:00 p.m., preceded at 3:45 by a new CBS program "The World Today." For the purposes of this paper it would be advantageous to say that Murrow prepared and delivered the news report first, then some time later developed and embellished the feature. This would yield a graduated analysis of the development of his ethical style. However, the lack of such a dimension does not negate comparison of the broadcasts because of the differing purposes behind them. The news broadcast's purpose was to inform the audience about a series of events, in this case, the bombing of an aircraft plant. The correspondent's report was to yield not only information, but information that is deliberately experiential. It utilized the personality of the reporter, dramatic commentary, and editorial expression to involve an audience more than would be appropriate in the news report.
Comparative Reports: Ethical Assumptions Advanced
The announcer introducing both reports (lines News 1-4 and Correspondent's 1-2) sets the stage for the presentation. For the news version, a sense of formality has been established by the newscast format. This is articulated in the lead to Murrow's report. Murrow is designated as the chief of Columbia's European staff who was personally observing the Allied air offensive (N 1-4). We were told that this particular air offensive was now in its sixth continuous day, and that this broadcast is sponsored by General Electric. In the correspondent's report, the introduction is significantly shorter, indicating simply that it is Edward R. Murrow with an eyewitness account. In 1944, the adjective "eyewitness" was not the news-promotion gimmick it suggests today. It signalled an authentic experience reported from the scene. It is noteworthy that personal experience was a part of the lead in both broadcasts.
Both reports also carried Murrow's opening salutation, "This is London," (N5 and C3). These three words have particular significance. They were first used simply as a logical way to begin a broadcast from abroad. However, in an interview with Norman Runyon (Phonoarchive Tape No. 780b), Murrow suggested the words had a far greater meaning. When the blitz began the people were doubting whether London would survive and the words implied there was still a London. As Leslie would observe (Leslie, 1988, p. 11), in three words the state of men and the world was communicated and reality was observed.
The organization of both reports was notably different. The news report's organization was didactic. The drama was removed, there was less commentary and the development surrounds information. The organization of the correspondent's report was chronological. It utilized the same factual material as in the newscast, but with a more dramatic portrayal.
Murrow began the news report with a brief historical review, discussing some comments of Winston Churchill's and indicating General Montgomery's optimism toward the RAF fighter operations. There was an editorial tinge in his intonation. He said, "The Germans were trying" (N9- 11), "but the Battle of Britain had turned in favor of the British." "Today we are seeing the Battle of Britain in reverse, much the better plan." Immediately following that editorial comment and in transition to the body of his text, Murrow relayed the victorious optimism of early 1944 (N12-13). "...and they (the Germans) turned to the aerial bombing of cities and finally they were beaten."
The major differences between the two introductions lie in the more emotional, dramatic, and descriptive elements. Murrow began the correspondent's broadcast by intermingling fact with emotion. He cited the number of sorties flown and the percentage of Allied losses. The mixture of fact with description assured the audience of intellectual control over the subject and required almost immediate audience attention.
As both correspondent and newscaster, Murrow introduced himself early in the narration, using the personal pronoun, "I" (N14 & C7). This was not repeated to distraction, but linked the reporter directly to the event, and, having already established rapport with the audience, he drew them vicariously into his experience.
In both broadcasts Murrow applauded the Air Force. In the newscast the tribute was brief, "And today, the forgotten Air Force was working again" (N16-17). He had great respect for those fighting men of the air and for their ground crews whose efforts supported the heavy bombers. "One ship that lifted clear and clean into the winter sky has flown fifty-eight missions and has completed every one of them. And that is because the men on the ground have as much pride in the aircraft as do the men who fly them" (C122-124). The passing tribute of the newscast (N16-17) was expanded to great length throughout the correspondent's report. He introduced each member of the crew (C55-58); one each from Ohio, Massachusetts, Texas, and New York. They were our "life insurance policy," he said (C60). "What reporter could expect to fly in better company? All of American was there" (C58- 59). Each crew member's name was painted on the plane, and "...why shouldn't they be? Are not the names of men engaged in less important work painted on the ground glass of office doors" (C27-29). With this salute, Murrow drew an audience response which was almost audible. It was a statement reflecting set values and support for a cause and a people. "All of America" was identified with the crew of the Marauder.
Murrow singled out Col. Kelly for special mention in the correspondent's report. "Old man" (C42) Kelly, "spelled without an ‘e'...with no apologies" (C55-56) had logged more than 4,000 hours of flying time (C31-32) and was only 36 years old (Bliss, 1967, p. 285). Throughout the report he was depicted as a superior commander exacting in his work; leading his crew with precision, relaxing with them, and rejoicing in their common cause.
The final tribute to the men was built into the conclusion of the correspondent's report. With the mission accomplished and the planes safely on the ground, Murrow asked what hours the ground crew worked to support the continuous flow of bombers. The reply: "Sometimes eighteen hours, when we fly two missions a day, and of course when the days get longer, they'll do more work" (C115- 116). Murrow indicated what he felt were his own inadequacies and said it had been a privilege to fly with such "gentlemen of the Eighth Air Force whose devotion to duty should place the entire country in their debt" (C126-128). Then came his most powerful and human illustration with these words, "A few hours ago a man who has commanded Marauders for months said to me, `What day is it, anyway? I can't keep track of it. Don't even have the funny papers to tell me when it's Sunday'" (C128-130). With these lines, Murrow provided an example with an emotional burden which encompassed the experience of every American and left them with the feeling of indebtedness, loyalty, and the idea, as Leslie assumes (Leslie, 1988, p. 11), that our existence was a God-given life.
After the introduction the news report moved to a description of the target. It was an "airfield near St. Trond, Belgium, and to reach it one must fly through heavy anti-aircraft fire" (N18). The correspondent's report expanded this description of the target to include the briefing, the morning of preparation, the men, the plane and even breakfast. Murrow contrasted the appetite of young Americans "stowing away" breakfast with the seriousness of their briefing. The listener sensed that the men didn't really mind the tasteless food or the early hour. As the intelligence officer put it, "...They don't know where they're going and they don't care. They just want to fly" (C14-15). Murrow's description of the briefing provided a contrast. "It is the deepest penetration ever made by the Marauders" (C18). "As the ruler moves across the map, it passes through certain red circles" (C20-21). Those circles reflected the hard unyielding realities of war, the concentration of enemy aircraft guns.
Murrow's description of the morning was poetic. "...the leafless branches of elm and popular trees filter the light of the rising sun" (C24-25). A conventional reporter would have noted that it was early in the morning, but Murrow described the morning: "It's still dark" (C9). "Somewhere off in the distance a rooster is announcing the false dawn" (C9-10). "A couple of G.I.'s...are imitating him and doing it well, too" (C10-11). These lines add atmosphere, suspense, and humor to the correspondent's story that go far beyond the lines of the news report.
In both news and correspondent's reports Murrow used the term "Marauder" to describe the plane. However, in the correspondent's report he added the more personal "Four-F" (C26). They were actually B-26's, but the word "Marauder" suggested feelings that accompanied the raid far more than "B-26" or "bomber." A Marauder takes on a human quality by linking it in name to other symbols.
In the newscast, Murrow described the take-off, saying "I could see the Marauders, dead on course, following our lead" (N22). The correspondent's report added, "The formation was perfect. They might have been tied to us with a silken thread" (C81). Although in the news report "Dead on course" gave the feeling of exactness, it did not have the force which the simile gave to the correspondent's report. Similarly, the correspondent' description of the bombing has greater dramatic, emotive impact: "I watched our bombs go down. They mixed with those of the friends in our flight. Some of them were long" (N26-27). Murrow could simply have said, "We dropped our bombs." But he added detailed visualization (C84-87). "...as our bombs went down, I lost them in a cascade of bombs," and the bombs did not just mix with other bombs. "Identifying ours was like identifying individual grains of wheat as they came out of the threshing machine" (C86-87). With this simile, Murrow identified with a major portion of his audience and thus he created human involvement.
Murrow devoted half of the newscast to the narrative of actual strike, but omitted all the editorial insinuation. The correspondent's report was constructed to include not only the factual details, but a description which enabled the listeners to visualize the action. It included phrases such as "The red fire spurted from the ground, from the road, and from the buildings near the air field..." (C88-89). In the news report's description if the strike, Murrow simply excused some bombs as off-target, saying, "Sometimes bombs, even in daylight, fail to find their targets" (N34). In the correspondent's report, however, he explained the situation. Because of a "technical hitch," (C91) the bombs of his particular plane had gone down just "the odd half-second too late." With this language, Murrow added a metaphorical appropriateness and a human element to the narration. If the listener felt disappointment, it was soon dissipated in both reports as Murrow quickly followed up: "I saw the bombs of the following formation strike" (N28). In the correspondent's report, Murrow substituted "go home" for the word "strike" (C92), then he added "And they were very good bombings" (C92-93). By today's broadcast standards, the "bombs go home" phrase would be almost revolutionary language. We do not accept that bombs belong to any home. But Murrow was preaching. He talked as a preacher. In 1944 the spirit of the war was high with anti-German feelings and the phrase added impact. The remark "They were very good bombs" (C92-93) was both a statement of accuracy and an editorial comment on Murrow's part.
A description of the explosion immediately followed in both reports. In the news report Murrow indicated, "The headquarters of the airfield seemed to blow up. The explosion...seemed to come from underneath. The buildings fell outward" (N30). The correspondent's report added a great deal of drama in its use of another simile to describe the explosion. "The headquarters building seemed not to be hit from the top. It fell outward, as though someone had placed a huge charge of dynamite in the basement" (C94-95). Continuing in the correspondent's report, Murrow personified the attack: The bombs were "...walking right up the perimeter of the track into the target that had been described in the briefing--the ammunition dump" (C96-97).
In the correspondent's report, Murrow maintained a high emotional level, which seemed to play with the life-death emotions of the drama. He eased the tension as he described the aircraft's return, focusing on the relaxation of Col. Joe Kelly, "sat there chewing gum and smoking a cigarette" (C99), then abruptly tightened tensions saying "one of our Marauders couldn't get his bomb-bay doors closed; he began to smoke" (C101-102). Relief followed quickly again as he assured his listeners that "the Spits have gone back to bring him in" (C102-103). In the news report, Murrow brought out the bravery of the Marauder crew; he did not play with audience emotions. He simply recalled when the outcome of the war had not looked so bright for the British.
In the last sixty seconds of the newscast, Murrow described the Belgian landscape. As in the correspondent's report, he used the landscape to set a cold, bleak mood. The description, however, appeared relatively early in the body of the correspondent's report. This organization let Murrow construct the more effective conclusion of the correspondent's report. In the newscast, Murrow said, "Looking down on the familiar landscape of Belgium, it seemed that the countryside had died," and "Brussels was quiet--very little smoke from the chimneys and no traffic on the roads or on the canals...the countryside was brown and desolate" (N37-40). In the correspondent's report, Murrow described the terrain as his plane passed over Brussels and then Antwerp. The description itself was more poetic and significantly different:
The countryside below seemed tired and cold and waiting.... Brussels seemed a dead city. There was no smoke from its chimneys...beneath us the roads stretched straight and clear, but there was no traffic. Only a couple of trains puffing away in the distance. The whole landscape was sullen and brown. There was still frost on the ground between the rows of trees in orchards. I could see no smoke coming from the chimneys of the houses with the red tiled roofs. The whole aspect was barren and bitter and cold (C65-71).
The affective language of the correspondent's description had a human quality. The phrase, "barren and bitter and cold" introduced elements of onomatopoeia, which, combined with the steady rhythm of Murrow's narration, induced a physical feeling in the audience.
In the conclusion of the news report, Murrow contrasted the success of the strike against this atmospheric bleak background. "But it may be that the great aerial armada that thundered over there today brought hope to many who have lost everything else" (N40-41). "For the fact that we drove up to the border of the great German Reich and came back without a loss certainly proves that the war in the air is being won. The Germans are refusing combat. They have courage and plans and fanaticism, but they are short of planes. I return you now to CBS, New York" (N43-45). This conclusion contained little drama, editorial comment, or encouragement for the fighters or the civilian audience. It lacked the emotive, human impact Murrow introduced in the correspondent's report and his final tribute to the men, "I don't even have the funny papers to tell me when it's Sunday" (C129-130). With his picture of the real world drawn in these final lines, Murrow wasted no time in concluding the report with the network's standard end cue, "I return you now to CBS, New York" (C131).
Conclusion
Historical scholars are aware of Murrow's excellence as a news reporter. He did not simply inform an audience. He demonstrated an idea and his ethical choices lead to enhanced audience involvement. The choices were purposeful. Murrow believed that "to be persuasive, we must be believable. To be believable, we must be credible. To be credible, we must be truthful" (Kendrick, 1969, p. 466). His ethical choices had their roots in human feelings, in an understanding of man, and a command of language. These were activated by his personal involvement in the events he reported. The only objection offered to Murrow's reporting choices was on his "habit of going up...to see what has been hit." "That is a good way to get the news," as Elmer Davis put it, "but perhaps not the best way to make sure that you will go on getting it" (Davis, 1941, p. viii).
Edward R. Murrow spoke to the heart of his audiences. He made clear choices that directed an audience's definition of the event, the values and philosophies communicated, and audience loyalties. What the audience heard was a product of Morrow's ethical choices. This is clearly apparent in a comparison of the news and feature correspondent's report of February 29, 1944. News was factual, short and information driven. In contrast, the feature portrays life and death realities of war. The set of values is reflected in contrasting the flight crew and office workers here at home--both conducting important affairs as a nation. Reality was continually observed in bombs that missed a target and the turning events of the war. Integrity is mirrored with Murrow's own editorial comments and intonations. He believed in a set of moral values and the cause of the war. Murrow's choices are clearly based on an understanding of human behavior and it is with this understanding that he bases most of his ethical and editorial decisions. Ethical choices were exercised at length in the feature report. It was a purposeful development of Murrow's reporting style. His radio features were descriptive, informative, and emotive. They were ladened with life associations and symbols that afforded rich opportunity for vicarious experience.
Edward R. Murrow's radio reporting reflects the demands of classical theorists and Leslie's ethical assumptions. Murrow combined a purposefully created experience and knowledge unlike any other report to "bring the reality of a conflict home to Americans, to identify them with a cause" (Kendrick, 1969, p. 8). This was a moral cause; Murrow believed in the Allies' position throughout World War II. He was not merely an orator, a conveyor of words (Edmonds, 109); he was emotionally involved in the fight for the Allied cause. Wooley summarized the reflection of ethical choices, commenting on Murrow's style and how it was developed by always evaluating the experience from a deliberately constructed common ground, and "by appealing thematically and persistently to the emotions of human beings through...topic choices...contrasting observations...and language usages" (Wooley, 1957, p. 290). Murrow assured his audience of his intellectual control over the subject by presenting facts as he consciously constructed within the experience and interpreted those facts in a logical and emotional framework. He used the elements of humanism as an energizer. Paraphrasing the humanism of ethical theory in the words of Murrow, we could say Murrow attempted, "not to capture, but free men's minds" (Kendrick, 1969, p. 473).
References
Aristotle. (Trans. 1954). Rhetoric. Translated by Rhys Roberts. New York: Random House, Inc.

Aristotle. (Trans. 1960). Posterior Analytics. Translated by Hugh Tredennick in the Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1960.

Bliss, E., Jr. (Ed.). (1967). In search of light: The broadcasts of Edward R. Murrow. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.

Bryant, D. (1968). Rhetoric: Its function and its scope. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 54, 12.

Christians, C.G., Rotzoll, K.B., & Fackler, M. (1991). Media Ethics: Cases and Moral Reasoning. New York: Longman, Inc.

Cicero, M.T. (Trans. 1967). De Oratore. Translated by E.W. Sutton and H. Rackham in the Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Davis, E. (1941). Introduction. This Is London, Edward R. Murrow. New York: Simon & Schuster.

Edmonds, E. (1950-51, Winter). The War with Inflections. The American Scholar, 109.

Godfrey, D.G. (Summer 1990). CBS World New Round Up: Setting the Stage for the Next Half Century. American Journalism, 7:3, pp. 164-172.

Isocrates. (Trans. 1954-6). Antidosis. Translated by George Norlin. Cambridge: Loeb Classical Library.

Jaksa, J.A. & Pritchard, M.S. (1988). Communication Ethics: Methods of Analysis. Belmont, CA: Wadsworth Publishing.

Jones, H.A. (1973). The making of an interventionist on the air: Elmer Davis & CBS News, 1939- 1941. The Pacific Historical Review, XIII, 88.

Kendrick, A. (1969). Prime time: The life of Edward R. Murrow. Boston: Little, Brown and Company.

Lambeth, E.B. (1992). Committed Journalism: An Ethic for the Profession. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Leslie, L.Z. (1988). Ethics as communication theory: Ed Murrow's legacy. Journal of Mass Media Ethics, 3, 7-19.

Murphy, J.J. (1972). A Synoptic History of Classical Rhetoric. New York: Random House, Inc.

Phonoarchive. (1939-1946). A collection of World War II CBS radio news broadcasts (Milo Ryan KIRO CBS Phonoarchives). Washington, D.C.: National Archives.

Phonoarchive Tape No. 774-775. (1944, December 3). This Is London. Washington, D.C.: National Archives.

Phonoarchive Tape No. 779. (1944, December 3). This Is London. Washington, D.C.: National Archives.

Phonoarchive Tape No. 780b. (1945, January 19). KIRO radio interview with Edward R. Murrow by Norman Runyon (Milo Ryan Phonoarchives). Washington, D.C.: National Archives.

Phonoarchive Tape No. 2934. (1944, February 25). CBS News. The world today (Milo Ryan Phonoarchives). Washington, D.C.: National Archives.

Plato. (Trans. 1956). Phaedrus. Translated by W.C. Hembold and W.G. Radinowitz. New York: Bobbs-Merrill Company.

Plato. (Trans. 1960). Gorgias. Translated by Walter Hamilton. Baltimore: Penguin Books Ltd.

Seattle Post Intelligencer. (1944, February 25). Radio program listings.

Seattle Times (1944, February 24). Radio program listings.

Wooley, T.R., Jr. (1957). A rhetorical study: The radio speaking of Edward R. Murrow (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). Evanston, IL: Northwestern University. Correspondent Report
Edward R. Murrow, "This is London"
CBS Radio Network, February 25, 1944
Milo Ryan Phonoarchive Tape Number 779
C
...For his eye-witness account of this air attack, we take you now to CBS London, Edward R. Murrow reporting.
MURROW: This is London. And this is about the Marauders, or if you prefer, the B-26's. They've been operating from this theater since July 16. They've flown more than 12,000 sorties and their losses have been about 3/10 of 1%. A Marauder is a twin-engine Bomber. It takes off from the runway like a cat that's been hit with a bootjack, and some people will tell you it's hard to fly. Maybe it is. I saw some flown today, in the deepest penetration that has yet been made by these American bombers. This is how it is.
You drive through the gates of an airfield early in the morning. It's still dark. Somewhere off in the distance a rooster is announcing the false dawn. A couple of G.I.'s down near the cook-house are imitating him, and doing it very well, too. You go in to breakfast with an Intelligence officer, and you look at a couple of hundred young Americans stowing away cereal with canned apricots on top, to be followed by powdered eggs fried like a pancake, and fried potatoes on the side. And the Intelli gence officer says, "Look at `em. They don't know where they're going and they don't care. They just want to fly."
The briefing doesn't differ very much from dozens of others that you've seen, except that this morning the target is an airfield in Belgium, St. Trond, about twenty miles from the German frontier. It is to be the deepest penetration ever made by Marauders.
The major who is doing the briefing runs his ruler across the map, and it's clear that we shall make landfall near Ostend. As the ruler moves across the map, it passes through certain red circles. Those circles mean concentrations of anti-aircraft guns, and each time the ruler crosses a red circle there is the sound of Americans laughing.
Finally the briefing is done. We've been told the course, weather, and the time and place of the rendezvous with the fighters. As we walk out of the room, the leafless branches of elm and popular trees filter the light of the rising sun. It is time to get into the trucks and go out to the line.
The car takes us around the perimeter track to a Marauder bearing the name "Four-F." The crew members' names are painted in yellow letters beneath the positions they occupy. After all, why shouldn't they be? Are not the names of men engaged in less important work painted on the ground glass of office doors? The ship is checked, and "Four-F" moves down to the end of the runway. The ground crews stand clear of the props, the motors speak, and the man in the driver's seat is Colonel Joe Kelly. He commands the group, and at 36 has logged something better than 4,000 hours of flying time.
As the Four-F goes down the runway it seems that she will never lift. But she does. The wheels are up and the two powerful motors are hauling the Marauder up through the overcast. At about 2,000 feet we break through and look about for the rest of the formation. Below there is nothing but flat white cloud. Then the rest of the flight starts coming up. They break through the cloud like porpoises coming up out of a sea of white milk. Upstairs the sun is bright; it's almost Florida weather.
We head out to the channel, heading roughly for Ostend on the Belgian coast. More Marauders come pouring up through the clouds, leaving a dark blue furrow behind, and take their position. The climb is gradual, but you can feel the lift under your feet. Somewhere out over the channel we are to meet the fighter escort. The "Old Man," Col. Kelly, is talking on the intercom with the rest of his crew. The rear gunner says something's gone wrong with his hydraulic pressure, and C
he'll have to operate the turret manually. The turret gunner says only one gun is functioning, but nobody thinks of turning back.
The fighter escort should be with us by now, but we can't see them. Suddenly, into the headphones we hear the fighters talking to each other. It's a jumble of confused words and phrases. We're out in the no-man's land of the air, and out of it come voices that speak the language of war. The German fighters have cut round behind us and are preparing to cut down on the tail formation. Out of the jumble of fighter talk come the guttural accent of boys from the rich black land of Poland, of others who knew the fjords of Norway. And mixed with it all, the clipped accents of RAF fighter pilots saying, "Over to you. Over." And drawling American voice saying, "There they are. Go and get `em."
We were out in a sky that was filled with men who fight, and we were flying the lead ship of the Marauders. We were with Col. Joe Kelly (spelled without an "e"--which according to accepted standards means "shanty Irish" with no apologies); the co-pilot was Lt. Joe Leaper from New Concord, Ohio; the navigator, Captain Richard Slaine from Massachusetts; the bombardier, James Dunn from Dallas, Texas; the tail-gunner, Sgt. Marvin Bryant, came from Syracuse, New York. What reporter could expect to fly in better company? All of America was there. And somewhere, unseen, there were the fighter boys, our "life insurance policy," beating the German fighters back into the clouds.
The Marauder formation tightened up. I could count the little yellow bombs painted on the nose of our wing man. There were planes in the far distance to starboard, and the co-pilot said, "Probably fortresses. They generally fly pretty lousy formation."
We picked up the coast not far from Ostend and went straight in between Brussels and Antwerp. The clouds had cleared. The countryside below seemed tired and could and waiting. There was no traffic on the roads. Brussels seemed a dead city. There was no smoke from its chimneys. The same was true of Antwerp. Beneath us the roads stretched straight and clear, but there was no traffic. Only a couple of railway trains puffing away in the distance. The whole landscape was sullen and brown. There was still frost on the ground between the rows of trees in the orchards. I could see no smoke coming from the chimneys of the houses with the red tile roofs. The whole aspect was barren and bitter and cold.
And then the flak began coming up at us. It burst in dirty lack puffs and seemed to build a fence in front of the formation on our right; but they flew straight into it. And all the while the navigator, Captain Slaine, and the bombardier, Lt. Dunn, kept telling Col. Joe Kelly, "Left a little. Left a little more. Steady now." It was all very quiet and, as Col. Kelly said, "They sound as though they were trying to sell me something."
Suddenly Kelly said to me, "The bomb doors are opening." He had agreed to leave them open longer than usual in order that I might see the bomb strikes of the groups following us. I stumbled back, weighted own with my flak suit, and stuck my head out into the cold air of the bomb bay. Looking aft I could see for Marauders of our flight. They were riding steady, right on our tail. The formation was perfect. They might have been tied to us with silken thread. I saw the edge of the airfield come into view, and then our bombs were away. The air was clear and I was determined to see them strike.
It was easy enough to see. There were the headquarters of the field and the dispersal points below. But as our bombs went down I lost them in the cascade of bombs from other ships in our formation. Identifying ours was like keeping track of individual grains of wheat as they come out of a threshing machine.
As the red fire spurted from the ground, from the road, and from the buildings near the airfield, it was clear that part of our salvo had been long. We had caught the edge of the target, but that was all. Some of our bombs were in an open field, some were blasting quarters and buildings near the airport. Due to a technical hitch, our stuff had gone down just the odd half-second too late. C
But as I looked down I saw the bombs of the following formation go home, and they were very good bombs.
The headquarters building seemed not to be hit from the top. It just fell outward, as though someone had placed a huge charge of dynamite in the basement. The building seemed to erupt, and off to the right I could see the bombs of another formation walking right up the perimeter track and into an ammunition dump which had been described to us in the briefing.
Col. Kelly swung left-handed and headed his formation back through the gap between Brussels and Antwerp. On the way home that Irishman sat there chewing gum and smoking a cigarette, flying the Marauder with his very fingertips. The Spitfires overhead seemed to be sliding about the sky, not flying. They were graceful and effortless. One of our Marauders couldn't get his bomb-bay doors closed; he began to smoke and fall behind. And then the co-pilot said, "It's all right; the Spits have gone back to bring him in." And they did.
There were German fighters making vapor trails in the sky, 15,000 feet above us, but they chose not to come in and fight it out. As we came back over England's clouds--that would be about noon today--the fighters and the heavy bombers were streaming out, American and British and Allied fighters, going out to cover the return of our heavy bombers. The sky was filled with aircraft. There were American heavies making the 1100-mile round trip to Stuttgart and Regensburg, and there were the Marauders, coming back from bombing an airfield on the very edge of Germany.
Col. Kelly pushed a button on the wheel and said to the rest of his formation, "Get your nose down and go through it." And they did. And soon we were down on the field--forty-eight aircraft had taken off, and forty-eight had come scorching back onto that runway. And as we stepped out of the plane, the ground crew swarmed round and began working on it. Someone said another mission was being briefed for the coast of France in the afternoon. I asked the Colonel what hours the ground crew worked, and he said, "Sometimes eighteen hours, when we fly two missions a day, and of course when the days get longer they'll do more work."
We went back to the mess, and there were young Americans snatching a quick lunch before going out and climbing into those Marauders to take off again. For many it was their second mission of the day. Later on maybe they'll be able to fly three or four in a single day.
As I left the field this afternoon, those same Marauders that battered the airfield at St. Trond were slashing down the runway and climbing up to gain formation for their second attack of the day. One ship that lifted clear and clean into the winter sky has flown 58 missions and has completed every one of them. And that is because the men on the ground have as much pride in the aircraft as do the men who fly them.
I should like to end this inadequate account of today's flight with the Marauder "Four-F" by saying to you that I profess no expertness regarding aerial warfare. But I have this day been privileged to fly with certain gentlemen of the Ninth Air Force whose devotion to duty should place the entire country in their debt. A few hours ago a man who has commanded Marauders for months said to me, "What day is it, anyway? I can't keep track of it. Don't even have the funny papers to tell me when it's Sunday."
I return you now to CBS, New York.
...CBS World News has brought you a special broadcast from London by Edward R. Murrow describing his trip aboard a Marauder bomber in an attack on Axis Europe. The program "Fun with Dunne," originally scheduled for this time will be heard again over most of these stations on Monday at 5:15 p.m. Eastern Wartime. Newscast Report
CBS News, "The World Today"
Edward R. Murrow, "This is London"
CBS Radio Network, February 25, 1944
Milo Ryan Phonoarchive Tape Number 2934
N
Edward R. Murrow, Chief of Columbia's European staff, went out today with Marauder bombers to see personally one phase of the great Allied air offensive now on its sixth day without let- up.
For his story, General Electric takes you now to London.
This is London. The other day, Mr. Churchill implied that the airmen were going to have a chance to prove their theory before the second front in the West is opened. General Montgomery has said that the first step in winning a victory is to won the war in the air before the ground fighting begins. The fact is that the air war is the only one that is being conducted from this island right now. You will remember that during the battle for Britain, the Germans were trying to hammer the RAF fighter fields out of operation. Today we are seeing the Battle of Britain in reverse, much the better plan.
The Germans bombed fighter fields and factories first. Then they worked only on factories; that became too costly and they turned to the aerial bombing of cities and finally they were beaten.
Today, I saw something of the Allied effort that destroyed Germany's air power. For five days our heavy bombers have hammered German fighter factories. Today they flew a round trip of 1100 miles to batter the ball-bearing works at Stutgaarten and the fighter factories at Regensburg. And today, the forgotten Air Force was working again; the Marauders, the B-26's were out; it was their deepest penetration of enemy territory. The target was a German airfield at St. Trond in Belgium. To reach it, you fly through flak between Brussels and Antwerp. By the time you were having breakfast this morning, we were over the target. German fighters were cutting vapor trails in the sky. We were within 20 miles of the German frontier. Looking back from the lead ship, I could see those other Marauders, dead on course, following our lead. They were flying formation as if though on parade.
Our bomb doors curled back and I looked down to watch the bomb strike of nearly 100 Marauders. The weather was clear. As we went in to bomb, I could see the red roofs of the runways and the empty roadways. When our bombs cleared, there was none of that lift you got when a big 4F bomber releases her load, but I watched our bombs go down. They mixed with those of the friends in our flight. Some of them were long. They were plowing up a field and then bursting brilliant crimson on the roadway. But as we swung over the target, I saw the bombs of the following formations strike. The headquarters of the airfield seemed to blow up. The explosion was caused by the bombs, but it seemed to come from underneath. The buildings fell outward.
In the old days, I saw many airfields bombed in Britain; I saw many men, too, but there was always a toll taken on the attacking bomber. Today The Marauders flew right up to the German fighters, carving their vapor trails high above us. But the Spitfires owned by Norwegians and Poles and Englishmen were there to protect us. Sometimes bombs, even in daylight, fail to find their targets. But the fact that our bombers are ranging deeper and deeper into occupied territory and are coming back with small loss must be acknowledged. Had that happened during the Battle of Britain, the course of world history might have been changed. Today, looking down on the familiar landscape of Belgium, it seems that the country had died. Brussels was quiet--very little smoke from the chimneys, no traffic on the roads or on the canals. Antwerp, off in the distance, appeared to have given up hope. The whole countryside was brown and desolate. But it may be that the great aerial armada that thundered over there today brought hope to many who have lost everything else.
For the fact that we drove up to the border of the great German Reich and came back without loss certainly proves that the war in the air is being won. The Germans are refusing combat. They have courage and plans and fanaticism, but they are short of planes.
I return you now to CBS, New York.


CFCF-TV | CFCF-AM | William E. Borah | Farnsworth | Farnsworth, Elma | Murrow | Charles Ora Card | Zina Young Card | Dictionary of American Radio | Pioneering Stations