John S. D. Eisenhower - Soldiers and Statesmen: Reflections on Leadership

In the course of a long career writing on political-military subjects, I have become convinced that many readers have too often labored under false assumptions in dealing with the Second World War and the years immediately following. Most Americans have, for example, bought into British prime minister Winston Churchill's calculated image as being half-American in his sentiments rather than all British, as he really was. Another example has been a tendency to underestimate, even deride, the contributions of General Mark W. Clark, whom I regard, despite his glaring faults, as one of the great figures of the war. To add a third example, the eventual break that occurred between Harry Truman and Dwight Eisenhower has left the impression with many people that the relationship was sour from the beginning. Such was far from the case.

Admittedly, none of these issues is earthshaking. The Second World War was won, and Truman and Eisenhower together helped ensure that we survived the cold war that followed. Nevertheless, I have developed an itch to set the record straight, at least as I saw it. From time to time, therefore, I have taken a moment out from other activities to write a few essays to put my views on paper. As I went on, my subject list expanded to include descriptions of men who I believed deserve more recognition than they have received. Hence this small book.

My viewpoint is admittedly subjective. Though much of my material has been drawn from my writings, my viewpoint has been influenced by many long and informal conversations with my father, Dwight D. Eisenhower. And I personally met nearly all the men described in these pages. When I first started out, I tried to leave myself completely out of the picture. I soon discovered, however, that doing so would be impossible. I could never, for example, have described Churchill's frustration at Whitehall during the storm of June 1944 without explaining how I came to be there.

I first came into the privileged position of observer in early June 1944, just after the Allied landings in Normandy. On orders from General George C. Marshall, Army Chief of Staff, I sailed that same day from the New York Port of Embarkation aboard the British liner Queen Mary, then in useas an American troopship. A week later the Queen Mary docked in Scotland, and I joined my father in London. Our visit extended a little more than two weeks, at the end of which I returned to Fort Benning to attend the Infantry School. Then, a year later, with the European war over, my father took me with him as a temporary aide on some very informative trips. More than ten years later I served in the White House as a junior officer. Personal experiences, then, have contributed mightily to the views I express in these pages.

There is no rhyme or reason for the order in which these essays are arranged. I chose to spare myself the responsibility of devising an order of merit. The same haphazard sequence applies to the appendix, Home Movies, in which I indulge myself by presenting irreverent vignettes of a military life, most of which I found amusing.

As I went through several drafts of the manuscript, I began to realize, to my surprise, what a critical influence George Marshall exerted on nearly every subject of this book. Churchill, though often at odds with Marshall, once called him the noblest Roman of them all. Harry Truman idolized him. Mark Clark, Terry Allen, Omar Bradley, Matthew Ridgway, and to some extent George Patton were his protgs. Of my subjects, Marshall's only critica severe onewas Douglas MacArthur, who never ceased to believe, throughout the war, that Marshall was secretly conspiring against him. I did not attempt to include an essay of Marshall, however; the job would be too big.

As with any antiquated storyteller, I owe the reader the disclaimer that, to quote British diplomat Sir Alfred Duff Cooper, Old Men Forget. There will be places where my memory will be faulty. I only hope that they are not too extensive.