The only good thing about wars is that they end.

Because America and our allies were victorious in what some call our two “Good Wars” —World War I and World War II—ticker tape parades, elaborate welcome home events for our soldiers and the generals who led them, and often riotous celebrations followed.

To commemorate this year’s Veterans Day, we took a peek into the Municipal Archives, which holds pictures of the celebrations—from throngs of New Yorkers celebrating Armistice Day on Wall Street on November 11, 1918, Marshal Ferdinand Foch, the Allied Commander in World War I, during a ticker tape parade in October 1921, raucous celebrations in Times Square and Central Park at the end of both wars and many proud, patriotic parades.

The Archives also holds letters, telegrams and memos to and from Mayor John Hylan at the end of WWI and correspondence from Mayor Fiorello La Guardia on the intricate planning for what he hoped would be respectful and prayerful celebrations.

This being New York, the correspondence is not without some political infighting, intrigue and squabbles about money, particularly at the end of WWI.

On October 29, 1918, with victory at hand, a Manhattan lawyer named John J. Hetrick wrote a letter to Hylan asking him to “give thought to a memorial of the deeds and valor and patriotism of its citizens,” and urged him, as chief executive of New York City, to “lead the way and not allow the war work of New York to be immortalized in a fragmentary way.”

Hylan soon appointed Deputy Police Commissioner Rodman Wanamaker to oversee construction of a temporary Memorial Arch to “welcome home the demobilized troops.” The city undertook a competition for ideas, ranging from the Arch, to a Victory Monument at Madison Square to a “Liberty Bridge” connecting New York and New Jersey.

But trouble quickly erupted when the mayor appointed William Randolph Hearst, the king of “yellow journalism,” who had close ties to Germany before the war and opposed U.S. entry into the fighting. The mayor was soon deluged with letters from several hundred prominent New Yorkers, including Henry Morgenthau Sr., who refused to serve on the committee, largely because Hearst would be on it.

One letter, from Richard Henry Gatling, declared, that normally he would be honored to serve on the committee, but refused because, “His Honor the mayor has made the shameful mistake of appointing the unspeakable Hearst as a member."

Another, from lawyer Henry Clay, declared: “It was an insult to both the citizens of this city and the returning soldiers to give a prominent place on such a committee to a man of the character of Mr. Hearst.”

In any event, a Welcome Home Committee was formed, 50 memorials were eventually built and parades were held before crowds of up to 250,000 people, including ones for the 27th Infantry Division on March 25, 1919; for the 332nd Division on April 21, 1919 for the 332nd Division, and on May 6, 1919 for the 77th Infantry Division.

Later that year, on September 8, 1919, General John J. (Black Jack) Pershing, commander of the American Expeditionary Force, arrived in New York on a confiscated German ship, the Leviathan, to be honored for his leadership. His motorcade went under that temporary Victory Arch at Madison Square at 24th Street and Fifth Avenue. And on September 10, he mounted his horse and led a parade of soldiers from the First Division to Central Park, where a crowd of 50,000 people greeted him. That evening, he was honored at a 1,600-guest banquet at the Waldorf Astoria.

The city also sponsored and paid for a variety of welcome home dinners for the troops at prominent restaurants, including the Astor, the Netherland, the Yale Club and the Knickerbocker. The archives holds letters from some of the restaurants claiming the city short-changed them.

A DIFFERENT WAR, A DIFFERENT TONE

The greetings and welcome-home plans for the end of WWII, under Mayor LaGuardia, were decidedly different. For one thing, almost all of those invited as sponsors accepted, including prominent people from the worlds of art, music, business, politics and the press—even though Hearst's son, William Randolph Hearst Jr., was on the official committee planning festivities for VE Day.

Mayor La Guardia took a solemn tone in all letters regarding plans for V-E Day, starting as early as nine months before victory was declared.

In an August, 2, 1944 letter to the secretary of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, the mayor said City Hall and police were “fretful of wild and unbridled celebrations” and wanted to avoid a repeat of the “riotous celebrations” on Wall Street and around the City on Armistice Day in 1918.

On August 22, Walter White, secretary of the NAACP, suggested that the City hold “the biggest prayer service of thanksgiving in Central Park and perhaps in Prospect Park, ever held ... to remind all citizens of New York that their joy should find expression in thanksgiving rather than in drunkenness and vandalism.”

Two weeks later, La Guardia called White’s idea “a very splendid one and suggested the mall in Central Park. On September 9, a New York Times editorial called for a “thoughtful celebration rather to have people riot in the streets, throwing confetti and getting drunk.”

As the fall of Germany approached the City made plans for a thankful celebration in Central Park patriotic songs and musical performance.

When V-E finally arrived on May 8, 1945, the City erupted in both kinds of celebrations —two million people jammed Times Square, singing, dancing and drinking as confetti rained down on them and a huge replica of the Statue of Liberty. There were similar scenes on Wall Street, in the Garment District and in Rockefeller Center.

That night, La Guardia had his prayerful event, launched with a benediction from Episcopal Bishop William T. Manning and featuring musical performances, dramatic readings and a stirring speech from the mayor, which is in the archives, complete with handwritten edits.

It reads, in part: “The war has ended in Europe. There was no doubt as to the ultimate outcome. It was only a matter of fixing the day. This is not exactly a day of rejoicing. It is a day of great satisfaction. But there is still work to be done; there is still a great deal of fighting and dying yet ahead ... (But) it means that the evil forces of Nazism and Fascism are destroyed.”

It was just the beginning of the celebrations. On June 19, 1945, four million people—and a ticker tape parade—greeted General Dwight D. Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied Commander, who would be elected President a little more than six years later.

In January 1946, 13,000 men of the 82nd Airborne marched four miles up Fifth Avenue amid tanks and under flybys, and in March, 1946, Sir Winston Churchill got a ticker tape parade of his own.

Japan would fall three months after Europe, and similar celebrations were held in New York around the world. VJ Day would also yield perhaps the most famous of the time—Alfred Eisenstadt’s photograph of a Navy sailor kissing a woman in white in Times Square.