Army & Navy – COMMAND: Empty Desks

The nation’s wartime civilian chiefs have begun their exodus from Washington. Last week Assistant Secretary of War John Jay McCloy, policy handler for the War Department and its liaison man with the State Department, stepped out. A few days later the resignation of his colleague, Assistant Secretary for Air Robert Abercrombie Lovett, landed on the White House desk.

Baldheaded, 50-year-old John McCloy, World War I veteran, Wall Street lawyer, had served the Government for five years. He had handled everything from an idea for puddle-jumping artillery-observation planes to drafting Lend-Lease legislation. His most recent assignment: a tour of occupied Germany and China, from which he returned with sharp advice on clearing up foggy policies (see INTERNATIONAL).

Bald, 50-year-old Bob Lovett, World War I veteran, Wall Street businessman, and articulate advocate of air power, had also served five years. He reorganized and even achieved partial autonomy for the A.A.F. He has been the Air Forces’ most successful salesman, both in brass-hat circles and Congressional committee rooms, and a crack administrater of A.A.F. into the bargain.

Their empty desks pose a problem for War Secretary Patterson, who is also chafing, anxious to go (so is Navy Secretary Forrestal). To find successors, the civilian departments have to go out in the world and beg. There are few men of the caliber of Lovett and McCloy tempted by an assistant secretary’s salary ($10,000); few feel any obligation, to serve in the War Department in peacetime.

“For Men of My Age.” The armed services can dip into a reservoir of trained men. Last week the Army and Navy underwent their biggest command shifts without audible clashing of gears. Fleet Admiral Ernest J. King finally resigned as Chief of Naval Operations—the job he had taken in December 1941, with the crack: “When they get into trouble they always send for the sons of bitches.” Now his filial job was done. His successor: mild, earnest Chester Nimitz.

General of the Army George Catlett Marshall, Chief of Staff, also went out. with the praise of Harry Truman ringing in his ears: “The greatest military man this country ever produced—or any other country.” His successor: confident, ebullient Dwight (“Ike”) Eisenhower.

To fill the overseas job left vacant by Eisenhower, the Army picked 62-year-old Air General Joseph T. McNarney, dour, black-browed Irishman who served most of the war as Marshall’s deputy in Washington. To take Nimitz’ place, the Navy picked Admiral Raymond Ames Spruance, able, unspectacular commander of the famous Fifth Fleet. As Spruance stepped in, his spectacular alternate in the Pacific campaign—Admiral “Bull” Halsey, boss of the Third Fleet—hauled down his flag, remarked, “I deem it necessary for men of my age [63] to step aside,” and walked ashore, headed for private life.