National Affairs: AN ADMIRAL’S 31-KNOT CAREER

Named Chief of Naval Operations last week: Rear Admiral Arleigk Albert (“31-Knot”} Burke.

Family & Early Years: He was born on a 170-acre farm three miles southeast of Boulder, Colo, and 1,000 miles from the nearest ocean, of Swedish and Pennsylvania Dutch stock (his grandfather changed his name from Bjorkegren). The eldest of six children, Arleigh found his life was paced by farm chores. A sister remembers: “When he was four years old, he was out in the fields leading the stacking horse” when the hay was harvested. In an essay on military training, written in grade school, young Burke said: “This training teaches one of the greatest problems of success: discipline . . . War methods change, but the necessity for discipline never changes.” He entered Annapolis at 17, graduated 70th in the class of 1923, later earned a Master of Science degree in chemical engineering from the University of Michigan.

World War II: As commander of Destroyer Squadron 23, the “Little Beavers,” he fought 22 actions in the Pacific between Nov. 1, 1943 and Feb. 23, 1944. His command was credited with destroying one Jap cruiser, nine destroyers, one submarine, one auxiliary vessel, one cargo vessel, one minelayer, four barges and 30 enemy planes. Each time he got an order for movement, he gave the same reply: “Proceeding at 31 knots.” Later, he became chief of staff to Vice Admiral Marc Mitscher, planned and executed carrier attacks on Iwo Jima, Okinawa and Tokyo. Twice the flagship was hit, and twice he led rescue parties to the men trapped below. Burke ended the war with a chestful of medals, including a Navy Cross, two Distinguished Service Medals, two Legion of Merits.

The Revolt of the Admirals: In 1948 he became Assistant Chief of Naval Operations for Organizational Research and Policy, head of the controversial Operation 23, which prepared the Navy case against the B-36 and carried on a devious back-door campaign with newspapermen and politicians against the Administration policy of priority for air power. In 1949, when Burke’s name came up for promotion to rear admiral, President Truman punitively crossed it off the list, later restored it when Admiral Forrest Sherman and press took up the issue.

Tke Korean War: In 1951 Rear Admiral Burke commanded Cruiser Division Five in Korean waters. One officer remembers: “The old man really ran the show. He was his own chief of staff, his own intelligence officer, his own operations officer. He even was his own talker on the bridge. If a TBS (talk between ships) message came when he was on the bridge, you endangered your life if you got between him and the phone.”

Assigned to the armistice negotiations at Panmunjom, he turned diplomat. Said a fellow negotiator: “The orders came from Washington to ease up on some points. Burke didn’t like that, but he’d go back in there day after day and doubletalk those people wonderfully. He’d come-back to his tent at night and rage about the Communists, but he never lost his temper or turned a hair when he was talking to them.”

Personality: Burke is a sturdy man (5 ft. 11 in., 200 Ibs.) with a deceptively easy smile and a soft voice. At home in Washington with his wife (they have no children), he likes torelax with a curved pipe, tweed jacket, a drink and a book. (His latest: Hadrian’s Memoirs.} Actually, he gets little chance to relax. During his last tour in Washington, he read reports and ate hot dogs at his desk during his lunch hour, telephoned aides any time between 6 a.m. and 9 p.m. Like all blue-water sailormen, he is at his best in combat. Burke’s memory of combat: “Things that used to be important become completely unimportant. Good food was important. A glass of beer was important. What your shipmates thought of you was important. But what was written down on some piece of paper, or what somebody who was not fighting thought about how you were fighting—that was completely unimportant.”

Future: One Pentagon officer who knows him well said: “He’ll shake this place plenty. Around here it’s liable to be like it was when La Guardia was boss in City Hall in New York. Remember that cartoon—the little guy with the big hat walking into City Hall, the building jumping and shaking, the little guy walking out and the building settling back? Just you wait.”y