Khrush: And in its relations with the dirty, warmongering, imperialist West, the Soviet Union seeks only...

Comrades (ferociously, grinding their teeth): Peace! Peace! Peace!

The huddle breaks with a last blood-curdling yell of "Peace!" and the socialist leaders take up their positions on the East side of the rope, with Khrushchev up front at the handkerchief.

Kennedy now addresses his team: My fellow teammates, this is a time of crisis. The tide is running against freedom, but it has not run out. And run out it will not, so long as free men are willing to sacrifice their liberty to keep men free.

The Queen (in bell-like tones): How truly delighted we are to be here with you, dedicated as we always have been to Anglo-American amity and freedom in its broadest sense.

The Prince: Quite.

Khrushchev (from after, shaking his fist menacingly): Peace to the dirty capitalists. Peace! Peace! Peace!...(keeps chanting so loudly that Kennedy is unable to continue)>

De Gaulle now takes matters in hand: loftily and nobly he begins singing the Marseillaise. The Western team joins in ..."contre nous de la tyrannic....Auxarmes citoyens. Formez vos bataillons. Marchons, Marchons..." Khrushchev is drowned out and silenced. De Gaulle sniffs the air proudly. Kennedy continues.

Kennedy: We are about to face a long tug-of-war to decide the fate of Germany. In the contest to come, let us not pull from fear, but let us not fear to pull. And let us ask not what freedom can do for us; let us ask rather what we can do for Germany. But let us begin.

The Western team approaches the rope soberly, with Kennedy taking the position opposite Khrushchev. Now, from the cloud above the gate, the Heavenly Referee descends. It is Jawaharlal Nehru, wearing the official striped shirt of a football referee and the official hat of the Congress Party. In his left hand is an olive branch, in his right a speech; on his hat sits a white dove.

Nehru (addressing the contestants): At this juncture of human history, we assemble to preserve the peace of the world. The winner of the following tug-of-water will take possession of all the Germany; the loser will quite utterly withdraw from that nation. But that is of another matter. (He blows his whistle).

Both sides pull, the rope strains, and the tug-of-war is begun. Mr. Nehru takes out a philosophy book to pass the time. At noon the contest is still fierce. Mr. Nehru is now standing on his head in contemplation. At length the sun casts its red rays over the scene. Taut, the golden roe shimmers in the sunset-taut until, suddenly, it snaps in twain. The handkerchief flutters to the ground. Both teams fall backward in confusion. Nehru turns on his feet to pronounce the decision:

As the rope has broken in twain, so must it be with Germany.

Khrushchev (benignly): Peace!

Kennedy: But what about Berlin?