We told the couple to come back and live in their own house. And because Murrow and I had traveled long and far, we carried with us the staples that, in those days, correspondents did not overlook—chocolate, coffee, soap, tea, K-rations, and canned meat and butter. We gave these things to the old people and told them to run the house, and take for themselves whatever they needed. They were pitifully and almost incoherently grateful. The next night, we found flowers in our room, and I knew we had made two friends. In the ruin and bitterness of Berlin, still stinking of death, a vase of flowers was a wondrous thing. I have seen and talked with the three enemy peoples of World War II—the Germans, the Japanese, and the Italians.