Harry Truman Page 55

  Simultaneously, Dad had to keep the more headstrong members of the armed forces under control. Early in July, he learned the air force was planning high-level photo reconnaissance missions over Dairen, Port Arthur, Vladivostok, and other Russian Far Eastern bases, to see if Stalin was planning to move into Korea. My father immediately ordered the cancelation of these missions. It was the first appearance of a problem that was to vex him throughout the war in Korea - the clash between the global view of our security and interests which Dad maintained in the White House and the needs and desires of local commanders in the war zone.

  To my father’s dismay, the focus of this clash soon became the man in supreme command of the UN army, General Douglas MacArthur. Dad was not an admirer of the MacArthur style of generalship. MacArthur’s fondness for personal publicity, his rhetoric to describe his own accomplishments, his petulant conduct during World War II, when he constantly badgered Washington for more support for his theater of war - all these things were against the code of Harry S. Truman, who put humility, giving credit to others, and teamwork at the head of his list of personal values. But my father recognized these differences between him and General MacArthur for precisely what they were - essentially differences in style. Such personal opinions had no place and no influence in the relationship between President Harry S. Truman and General Douglas MacArthur. In fact, as a student of military history, Dad was an admirer of General MacArthur’s strategy in the South Pacific during World War II.

  At the same time, my father was very aware General MacArthur had political ambitions. He had allowed himself to be put forward as a candidate in the Wisconsin presidential primary in the 1948 election. He took a drubbing, and that was the end of his candidacy.

  Even before the Korean War began, some rather strange things had happened in Tokyo which made my father suspect General MacArthur was still working rather closely with the right-wing Republicans who had backed him in Wisconsin. When Chiang retreated to Formosa, it looked at first as if the Communists would follow him and swiftly capture the island. We had no plans - or desire - to defend Chiang, and with White House approval, the State Department sent instructions to MacArthur’s headquarters, advising him how to deal with the press on the subject, so that he would say nothing that contradicted his superior in Washington. The memorandum was leaked and was soon raising a hue and cry in the anti-Truman press and among the “animals,” as Dad called the right-wingers in Congress.

  On the other hand, my father was encouraged by General MacArthur’s praise of his decision to resist aggression in Korea. When Dad appointed him United Nations Commander, the General sent the following radio message: “I have received your announcement of your appointment of me as United Nations Commander - I can only repeat the pledge of my complete personal loyalty to you as well as an absolute devotion to your monumental struggle for peace and goodwill throughout the world. I hope I will not fail you.”

  But before the month of July was over, my father and General MacArthur had clashed again over Formosa. On July 19, Dad had carefully spelled out his policy toward Chiang Kai-shek: “The present military neutralization of Formosa is without prejudice to political questions affecting that island. Our desire is that Formosa not become embroiled in hostilities disturbing to the peace of the Pacific and that all questions affecting Formosa are to be settled by peaceful means as envisaged in the Charter of the United Nations. With peace re-established, even the most complex political questions are susceptible of solution. In the presence of brutal and unprovoked aggression, however, some of these questions may have to be held in abeyance in the interest of the essential security of all.”

  On July 27, at a National Security Council meeting, my father decided to send a survey team to Formosa to estimate Chiang’s military needs. This decision was not caused by any change of heart or mind on Dad’s part toward Chiang. Intelligence reports indicated the Communist Chinese were concentrating a large army along the coast opposite Formosa, and my father was determined to resist another apparently imminent act of aggression. The plan was to send Chiang the military aid he needed, quietly, with a minimum of mention in the press. Dad was irate when he picked up the newspaper on August 1 and discovered that the previous day, General MacArthur had made an unauthorized trip to Formosa to do his own survey of Chiang’s needs and explain why we could not use his troops in Korea. The glare of publicity which followed MacArthur everywhere made it look as if we were negotiating a mutual defense treaty with Chiang. The Generalissimo, no slouch himself in undercutting American policy, had urged in a public statement a few weeks before the General’s visit that “no difficulties . . . will arise if United States relationships are placed in the hands of Douglas MacArthur.”

  Soon after MacArthur returned to Tokyo, Chiang announced “the foundation for Sino-American military cooperation has been laid.” There was no doubt, he declared, of “final victory in our struggle against Communism.”

  My father was appalled, and immediately dispatched Averell Harriman to Tokyo to explain in detail our policy toward Chiang and Formosa, as well as the entire Korean involvement. Dad also wanted to get from one of his most reliable associates a wide-ranging report on MacArthur’s view of the war. When Harriman explained our Formosa policy, General MacArthur demonstrated an alarming ability to talk out of both sides of his mouth. He agreed that Chiang personally was a liability and at one point in the conversation, suggested letting him land with his army on the Chinese coast, where he would be swiftly annihilated. Much troubled, Ambassador Harriman reported, “He did not seem to consider the liability that our support of Chiang on such a move would be to us in the East.” Ambassador Harriman came away with the worried feeling that he and General MacArthur had not come “to a full agreement on the way we believed things should be handled on Formosa with the Generalissimo.” At the same time, MacArthur had assured Harriman that he would “as a soldier obey any orders that he received from the President.”

  On August 26, Charlie Ross laid on Dad’s desk a copy of the statement which General MacArthur had sent to the commander in chief of the Veterans of Foreign Wars, who were holding their annual convention. It was to be read to the convention on August 28, but a news magazine was already on the stands with the full text. The message was a lofty criticism of the American government’s policy, with special emphasis on Formosa. He compared the island to “an unsinkable aircraft carrier and submarine tender” which threatened our bases in Okinawa and the Philippines. “Nothing could be more fallacious than the threadbare argument by those who advocate appeasement and defeatism in the Pacific that if we defend Formosa we alienate continental Asia,” the General declared. “Those who speak thus do not understand the Orient.”

  Only the day before, my father had ordered our ambassador to the UN, Warren Austin, to assure Secretary General Trygve Lie that we had no desire to incorporate Formosa within the American defense perimeter and were prepared to have the United Nations investigate our actions on that island. MacArthur’s statement created consternation in the UN and in the capitals of our allies around the world.

  My father immediately met with the Joint Chiefs of Staff and Secretaries of State, Treasury, and Defense. Grimly, in a manner that was totally foreign to his usual style of conducting these meetings, he asked each man if he knew anything about MacArthur’s message before it was released to the press. All of them said they were as surprised as the President. Dad ordered Louis Johnson to order MacArthur to withdraw the message. To my father’s amazement, the Secretary of Defense hesitated to obey this direct order. Instead, he suggested issuing a statement that would have been little more than a light tap on General MacArthur’s wrist - an explanation that his message to the VFW was “only one man’s opinion.”

  When my father heard about this timidity - a shocking example of the awe with which General MacArthur was regarded by the Department of Defense - he called Johnson and dictated the following message: “The President of the United States directs that you wi
thdraw your message to the National Encampment of Veterans of Foreign Wars, because various features with respect to Formosa are in conflict with the policy of the United States and its position in the United Nations.” Dad followed this up with a long letter once more carefully explaining our policy and enclosing Ambassador Austin’s letter to Trygve Lie.

  This episode was close to the last straw in my father’s efforts to be patient with Louis Johnson. The Secretary of Defense had become an obstructionist force in the government. He had used the outbreak of the Korean War to sharpen and widen his feud with Secretary of State Acheson. He went around Washington making sneering remarks about disloyalty in the State Department and intimating the Department of Defense was the only reliable force for a constructive foreign policy in the government. He had even discussed with opposition senators the possibility of his supporting a move to oust the Secretary of State. On September 11, at 4:00 p.m., Johnson came to the White House for an off-the-record meeting. “Lou came in full of pep and energy,” Dad says. “He didn’t know anything was wrong. I told him to sit down and I said, ‘Lou, I’ve got to ask you to quit.’

  “He just folded up and wilted. He leaned over in his chair and I thought he was going to faint. He said, ‘Mr. President, I can’t talk.’”

  In Congress, the right-wing Republicans were attacking Johnson, as the man responsible for the poor showing of our army in the first months of fighting in Korea. Dad told Johnson that Democratic members of Congress had come to him and sworn that Johnson’s continuance in the Cabinet would beat them in the November elections. This was a polite lie which, Dad knew, made him look timid. He did this to make it as easy as possible for Johnson to leave.

  Frantically, for a few moments, Johnson tried to argue with Dad. He cut him short. “I have made up my mind, Lou, and it has to be this way.”

  Minutes after Johnson left, my father walked into Charlie’s office and said, “This is the toughest job I have ever had to do.”

  A few days later, Dad told George Elsey: “I had one hell of a time with Lou Johnson. I’ve never had anyone let me down as badly as he did. I’ve known for months - ever since May - that I would have to fire him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. You know that I would rather cut my own throat than hurt anyone. I’ve known Lou for thirty years and I hated to have to do this to him, but the worst part about this job I have is that I can’t consider my personal feelings. I have to do what is right and I just couldn’t leave Johnson there any longer. The terrible thing about all this is that Johnson doesn’t realize he has done anything wrong. He just doesn’t seem to realize what he’s been doing to the whole government. I couldn’t let it go on any longer.”

  Johnson proceeded to prolong the agony by handing Dad his letter of resignation the following day, unsigned and expressing the hope he would not be asked to sign it. Dad’s jaw tightened, and he said, “I’m afraid it has to be signed, Lou.”

  The Secretary of Defense signed and left the White House. My father immediately telephoned General George Marshall at Leesburg, Virginia, and asked him to become Secretary of Defense. Once more, this great man and soldier instantly obeyed his commander in chief.

  My father also considered relieving General MacArthur, when he issued his flagrantly insubordinate statement about Formosa. But he decided against this move because he had already approved the daring plan General MacArthur had conceived to break out of our Pusan beachhead and seize the offensive in Korea. It called for an end run by sea around the North Korean army and a lightning amphibious landing at Inchon, on the west coast of Korea. The Joint Chiefs of Staff were deeply worried by the dangers involved in the plan. MacArthur’s landing force at Inchon was small - only two divisions - and the harbor was extremely tricky, with huge tides that rose and fell as much as twenty feet leaving miles of mud flats to be negotiated by our amphibious troops, if our timing went awry. But my father called it “a bold plan worthy of a master strategist,” and backed MacArthur to the hilt. To make the plan possible, he had withdrawn troops from Puerto Rico, Hawaii, the Mediterranean, and handed them over to General MacArthur. Dad knew from his long study of military history that relieving a commander on the eve of battle inevitably damaged an army’s morale. He believed in General MacArthur’s ability to win the tremendous gamble at Inchon.

  Win he did. On September 15, while everyone in the White House and the Pentagon sweated and prayed, the 1st Marine Division and the army’s 7th Infantry Division stormed ashore, achieving complete tactical surprise. Simultaneously, our troops inside the Pusan bridgehead took the offensive. By September 29, Seoul had been recaptured. Dad sent General MacArthur a telegram that communicated not only his congratulations but the close and knowledgeable attention he had paid to his tactics and strategy.

  I know that I speak for the entire American people when I send you my warmest congratulations on the victory which has been achieved under your leadership in Korea. Few operations in military history can match either the delaying action, the way you traded space for time in which to build up your forces, or the brilliant maneuver which has now resulted in the liberation of Seoul.

  The disintegration of the North Korean army was swift, as a result of General MacArthur’s smashing blow. All opposition below the 38th parallel evaporated. Unfortunately, many of their men succeeded in fleeing across the border into North Korea, although they had to abandon most of their weapons while doing so.

  A major decision now had to be made. Should we cross the 38th parallel in hot pursuit of the enemy’s disorganized but by no means destroyed army? Was it possible that, by destroying this army, we could unite North and South Korea and create a free independent nation? The United Nations declared this was their goal, and on October 7, they voted resoundingly for a resolution calling for “a unified, independent and democratic government” of Korea.

  This goal was in harmony with traditional military doctrine, that the destruction of the enemy’s armed forces was the only way to end a war. The Joint Chiefs of Staff, therefore, recommended MacArthur be authorized to operate in North Korea. But he was warned that this permission depended upon one enormously vital fact - that “there has been no entry into North Korea by major Soviet or Chinese Communist forces, no announcement of intended entry, nor a threat to counter our operations militarily in Korea.” At the same time, General MacArthur was requested to submit a plan of operations - a request which, he made it clear, he resented. He was also explicitly told by the Pentagon: “No non-Korean ground forces will be used in the northeast provinces bordering the Soviet Union or in the area along the Manchurian border.”

  General MacArthur finally presented a plan of operations that was in entire harmony with these directives. He proposed to attack north until he had established a line about fifty miles above the enemy capital of Pyongyang. From there, if the situation warranted it, he would commit South Korean troops to occupy the remaining sixty miles of Korea between that point and the Yalu River.

  Meanwhile, in Washington, ominous warnings filtered into the State Department from nations who were in contact with China. They all reported that the Communist government in Peking had declared they would send troops into Korea if American troops crossed the 38th parallel. My father immediately sent this warning to General MacArthur. The Chinese repeated the warning over their official government radio a few days later. General MacArthur, and his intelligence chief, Major General Charles A. Willoughby, dismissed it as political blackmail, designed to frighten the United Nations and prevent them from voting overwhelmingly in support of the resolution for a free unified Korea.

  The more my father thought about the complex situation, and General MacArthur’s difficult personality and strong political opinions, the more he became convinced the President should have a personal talk with his Far East commander. He wanted to find out exactly what MacArthur planned to do in Korea. Above all, he wanted to give the General a realistic appraisal of what he and his administration were thinking about the whole world. H
e worried about the tendency of the General and his staff to think too exclusively of the Far East. They had been away from home too long.

  At first, Dad thought of flying to Korea to visit the troops. But he decided this would take him away from Washington for a dangerously long period of time. He did not want to bring General MacArthur to Washington because that would separate him from his troops for an equally dangerous period. So the decision was made to meet at Wake Island, in the Pacific. It was a decision that gave General MacArthur only 1,900 miles to travel, and Dad 4,700.

  Before he left, my father discussed with his aides the possibility of bringing along something General MacArthur might not be able to buy in Japan - some small present that would please him. Charlie Murphy found a young man in the Pentagon who had been MacArthur’s personal aide. He advised Charlie to take some Blum’s candy for Mrs. MacArthur. She was very fond of it and could not get it out there. Charlie bought five one-pound boxes and took them along on the plane. In Honolulu, Averell Harriman decided a five-pound box was better and bought one. So Dad’s party arrived bearing ten pounds of Blum’s goodwill candy.