五星上将道格拉斯·麦克阿瑟82岁时的西点告别演说

            五星上将道格拉斯·麦克阿瑟82岁时的西点告别演说
[参考译文]
　　今天早晨，当我走出旅馆时，看门人问道：“将军，您上哪去？”一听说我要去西点，他说：“那是个好地方，您从前去过吗？”
　　这样的荣誉是没有人不深受感动的。长期以来，我从事这个职业，又如此热爱这个民族，能获得这样的荣誉简直使我无法表达我的感情。然而，这种奖赏主要并不意味着对个人的尊崇，而是象征一个伟大的道德准则——捍卫这块可爱土地上的文化与古老传统的那些人的行为与品质的准则。这就是这个大奖章的意义。无论现在还是将来，它都是美国军人道德标准的一种体现。我一定要遵循这个标准，结合崇高的理想，唤起自豪感，同时始终保持谦虚……
　　责任一荣誉一国家。这三个神圣的名词庄严地提醒你应该成为怎样的人，可能成为怎样的人，一定要成为怎样的人。它们将使你精神振奋，在你似乎丧失勇气时鼓起勇气，似乎没有理由相信时重建信念，几乎绝望时产生希望。遗憾得很，我既没有雄辩的词令、诗意的想象，也没有华丽的隐喻向你们说明它们的意义。怀疑者一定要说它们只不过是几个名词，一句口号，一个浮夸的短词。每一个迂腐的学究，每一个蛊惑人心的政客，每一个玩世不恭的人，每一个伪君子，每一个惹是生非之徒，很遗憾，还有其他个性不甚正常的人，一定企图贬低它们，甚至对它们进行愚弄和嘲笑。
　　但这些名词确能做到：塑造你的基本特性，使你将来成为国防卫士；使你坚强起来，认清自己的懦弱，并勇敢地面对自己的胆怯。它们教导你在失败时要自尊，要不屈不挠；胜利时要谦和，不要以言语代替行动，不要贪图舒适；要面对重压和困难，勇敢地接受挑战；要学会巍然屹立于风浪之中，但对遇难者要寄予同情；要先律己而后律人；要有纯洁的心灵和崇高的目标；要学会笑，但不要忘记怎么哭；要向往未来，但不可忽略过去；要为人持重，但不可过于严肃；要谦虚，铭记真正伟大的纯朴，真正智慧的虚心，真正强大的温顺。它们赋予你意志的韧性，想象的质量，感情的活力，从生命的深处焕发精神，以勇敢的姿态克服胆怯，甘于冒险而不贪图安逸。它们在你们心中创造奇妙的意想不到的希望，以及生命的灵感与欢乐。它们就是以这种方式教导你们成为军人和君子。
　　你所率领的是哪一类士兵？他可靠吗？勇敢吗？他有能力赢得胜利吗？他的故事你全都熟悉，那是一个美国士兵的故事。我对他的估价是多年前在战场上形成的，至今没有改变。那时，我把他看作是世界上最高尚的人；现在，我仍然这样看他。他不仅是一个军事品德最优秀的人，而且也是一个最纯洁的人。他的名字与威望是每一个美国公民的骄傲。在青壮年时期，他献出了一切人类所赋予的爱情与忠贞。他不需要我及其他人的颂扬，因为他已用自己的鲜血在敌人的胸前谱写了自传。可是，当我想到他在灾难中的坚忍，在战火里的勇气，在胜利时的谦虚，我满怀的赞美之情不禁油然而升。他在历史上已成为一位成功爱国者的伟大典范；他在未来将成为子孙认识解放与自由的教导者；现在，他把美德与成就献给我们。在数十次战役中，在上百个战场上，在成千堆营火旁，我亲眼目睹他坚韧不拔的不朽精神，热爱祖国的自我克制以及不可战胜的坚定决心，这些已经把他的形象铭刻在他的人民心中。从世界的这一端到另一端，他已经深深地为那勇敢的美酒所陶醉。
　　当我听到合唱队唱的这些歌曲，我记忆的目光看到第一次世界大战中步履蹒跚的小分队，从湿淋淋的黄昏到细雨蒙蒙的黎明，在透湿的背包的重负下疲惫不堪地行军，沉重的脚踝深深地踏在炮弹轰震过的泥泞路上，与敌人进行你死我活的战斗。他们嘴唇发青，浑身污泥，在风雨中战抖着，从家里被赶到敌人面前，许多人还被赶到上帝的审判席上。我不了解他们生得高贵，可我知道他们死得光荣。他们从不犹豫，毫无怨恨，满怀信心，嘴边叨念着继续战斗，直到看到胜利的希望才合上双眼。这一切都是为了它们——责任一荣誉一国家。当我们瞒珊在寻找光明与真理的道路上时，他们一直在流血、挥汗、洒泪。 20年以后，在世界的另一边，他们又面对着黑黝黝肮脏的散兵坑、阴森森恶臭的战壕、湿淋淋污浊的坑道，还有那酷热的火辣辣的阳光、疾风狂暴的倾盆大雨、荒无人烟的丛林小道。他们忍受着与亲人长期分离的痛苦煎熬、热带疾病的猖獗蔓延、兵桌要地区的恐怖情景。他们坚定果敢的防御，他们迅速准确的攻击，他们不屈挠的目的，他们全面彻底的胜利——永恒的胜利——永远伴随着他们最后在血泊中的战斗。在战斗中，那些苍白憔悴的人们的目光始终庄严地跟随着责任一荣誉一国家的口号。
　　这几个名词包合着最高的道德准则，并将经受任何为提高人类道德水准而传播的伦理或哲学的检验。它所提倡的是正确的事物，它所制止的是谬误的东西。高于众人之上的战士要履行宗教修炼的最伟大行为——牺牲。在战斗中，面对着危险与死亡，他显示出造物主按照自己意愿创造人类时所赋予的品质。只有神明能帮助他、支持他，这是任何肉体的勇敢与动物的本能都代替不了的。无论战争如何恐怖，召之即来的战士准备为国捐躯是人类最崇高的进化。　现在，你们面临着一个新世界 ——一个变革中的世界。人造卫星进入星际空间。卫星与导弹标志着人类漫长的历史进入了另一个时代——太空时代。自然科学告诉我们，在50亿年或更长的时期中，地球形成了；300万年或更长的时期中，人类形成了；人类历史还不曾有过一次更巨大、更令人惊讶的进化。我们不单要从现在这个世界，而且要从无法估算的距离，从神秘莫测的宇宙来论述事物。我们正在认识一个崭新的无边无际的世界。我们谈论着不可思议的话题：控制宇宙的能源；让风力与潮汐为我们所用；创造空前的合成物质以补充甚至代替古老的基本物质；净化海水以供我们饮用；开发海底以作为财富与食品的新基地；预防疾病以使寿命延长几百岁；调节空气以使冷热、晴雨分布均衡；登月宇宙飞船；战争中的主要目标不仅限于敌人的武装力量，也包括其平民；切结起来的人类与某些星系行星的恶势力的最根本矛盾；使生命成为有史以来最扣人心弦的那些梦境与幻想。
　　为了迎接所有这些巨大的变化与发展，你们的任务将变得更加坚定而不可侵犯，那就是赢得我们战争的胜利。你们的职业要求你们在这个生死关头勇于献身，此外，别无所求。其余的一切公共目的、公共计划、公共需求，无论大小，都可以寻找其他办法去完成；而你们就是受训参加战斗的，你们的职业就是战斗——决心取胜。在战争中最明确的目标就是为了胜利，这是任何东西都代替不了的。假如你失败了，国家就要遭到破坏，因此，你的职业唯一要遵循的就是责任一荣誉一国家。其他人将纠缠于分散人们思想的国内外问题的争论，可是你将安详、宁静地屹立在远处，作为国家的卫士，作为国际矛盾怒潮中的救生员，作为硝烟弥漫的竞技场上的格斗士。一个半世纪以来，你们曾经防御、守卫、保护着解放与自由、权利与正义的神圣传统。让平民百姓去辩论我们政府的功过：我们的国力是否因长期财政赤字而衰竭，联邦的家长式传统是否势力过大，权力集团是否过于骄横自大，政治是否过于腐败，犯罪是否过于猖獗，道德标准是否降得太低，捐税是否提得太高，极端分子是否过于偏激，我们个人的自由是否像应有的那样完全彻底。这些重大的国家问题与你们的职业毫不相干，也无需使用军事手段来解决。你们的路标——责任一荣誉一国家，比夜里的灯塔要亮十倍。
　　你们是联系我国防御系统全部机构的纽带。当战争警钟敲响时，从你们的队伍中将涌现出手操国家命运的伟大军官。还从来没有人打败过我们。假如你也是这样，上百万身穿橄榄色、棕色、蓝色和灰色制服的灵魂将从他们的白色十字架下站起来，以雷霆般的声音喊出那神奇的口号——责任一荣誉一国家。
　　这并不意味着你们是战争贩子。相反，高于众人之上的战士祈求和平，因为他忍受着战争最深刻的伤痛与疮疤。可是，我们的耳边经常响起那位大智大慧的哲学之父柏拉图的警世之言：“只有死者才能看到战争的终结。”
　　我的生命已近黄昏，暮色已经降临。我过去的音调与色彩已经消失，它们已经随着往事的梦境模糊地溜走了。往日的回忆是非常美好的，是以泪水洗涤，以昨天的微笑抚慰的。我渴望但徒然地聆听着远处那微弱而迷人的起床号声，和那咚咚作响的军鼓声。在梦境里，我又听到隆隆的炮声，劈啪的步枪射击声，战场上古怪而悲伤的低语声。然而，在我黄昏的记忆中，我总是来到西点，耳边始终回响着：责任一荣誉一国家。
　　今天标志我对你们的最后一次点名。但我希望你们知道，当我死去时，我最后自然想到的一定是你们这支部队——这支部队——这支部队。
　　我向你们告别了。
 
    
General Douglas MacArthur's Farewell Speech
Given to the Corps of Cadets at West Point
May 12, 1962
 
General Westmoreland, General Groves, 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, 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 for 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 meaning 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 want to be, what you can be, what you will be. They are your rallying point 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 action; 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 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.
They give you a temperate will, a quality of imagination, a vigor of the emotions, a freshness of the deep springs of life, a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, 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 man at arms. My estimate of him was formed on the battlefields 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 twenty campaigns, on a hundred battlefields, around a thousand campfires, I have witnessed that enduring fortitude, that patriotic self-abnegation, 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 ankle deep through mire of shell-pocked roads; to form grimly for the attack, blue-lipped, 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 they saw the way and the light.
And twenty years after, on the other side of the globe, against the filth of dirty foxholes, the stench of ghostly trenches, the slime of dripping dugouts, those boiling suns of the relentless heat, those torrential rains of devastating storms, the loneliness and utter desolation of jungle trails, the bitterness of long separation of those they loved and cherished, the deadly pestilence of tropic 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.
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 marked the beginning of another epoch in the long story of mankind - the chapter of the space age. 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 greater, 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; of purifying sea water for our drink; of mining ocean floors for new fields of wealth and food; of disease preventatives to expand life into the hundred 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 purpose, all other public projects, all other public needs, great or small, will find others for their accomplishments; 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 war guardians, as its lifeguards from the raging tides of international conflict, as its gladiators in the arena of battle. 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 firm 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 warmongers. 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 tints. 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 then, but with thirsty ear, 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 I come back to West Point. Always there echoes and re-echoes: 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.