Obviously, the man knew he was sick and kept it a secret from the public, who never saw him in a wheelchair. Did he believe he was immortal? Why he never prepared his vice president for the postwar world would always remain a mystery to Truman. He had been chosen for political reasons and was considered, even by himself, as strictly a political prop.
Above all, Truman knew that good health was essential to the enormous pressures of the presidency. He was well aware of his own strong constitution, and his vigorous daily walk and occasional swim in the White House pool was part of a regular regimen. Roosevelt had been too ingenuous about his declining health. There was evidence as well, that Churchill, despite his pink cherubic complexion had sporadic heart problems. On a previous visit to the White House during Roosevelt’s time, he had been rumored to have had a mild heart attack.
For this reason, his own trusted physician, Doctor Wallace Graham, was aboard the train, and he had made arrangements for emergency medical services to be on hand and available at the college.
Despite his freak advancement to the presidency, Truman thought, in hindsight, that Roosevelt’s running for a fourth term had been a fatal mistake. Unfortunately, the dead president had been a one-man band and, as a consequence, never gave himself permission to contemplate dying in office and leaving his handpicked vice president in charge.
Truman was aware of what was being said behind his back at the time: failed haberdasher, good old boy flunky for the Prendergast machine, badly educated, not a college graduate, an inconsequential Senator from an insignificant border state. Roosevelt, they had also said during the campaign, will stick him in the closet and close the door on him for the next four years.
Worse, Truman had not been privy to any cables informing Roosevelt of the war’s progress and the complicated issues that the Allies and their fair-weather friend, the Soviet Union, would face when the fighting was over. The gaps in his knowledge of the war years and the machinations of the White House were profoundly complicated, and he knew it. It was this shortfall of knowledge that bothered him most.
There was also the lack of personal chemistry between him and Winston Churchill. A unique chemistry had bonded Roosevelt and Churchill and, giving credit where credit was due, helped make the great Atlantic Alliance workable, which was essential to winning the war in Europe in the end. There were so many things to learn. Sure, he revered and respected Roosevelt, but the ball was in his court now, and heeding the sign he placed on his desk, The Buck Stops Here, he had no illusions about what he was up against.
At the time of Roosevelt’s death, he had no knowledge of the building of the atomic bomb. He was flabbergasted to hear about it two days after he was sworn in and even more stunned to learn about its destructive power. What appalled him further was that, according to intelligence reports, the Russians had known about its development since 1942. One of his aides had discovered an unsigned Roosevelt memo, prepared by Harry Hopkins and Alger Hiss, indicating that he was open to sharing the method for making the bomb with Stalin. Apparently — Truman had learned at Potsdam — Stalin fully expected the Americans to share information on new weapons with the Russians. Had Roosevelt privately suggested such an arrangement? Had Truman been expected to make good on such an alleged promise?
Five months into his presidency, he had been called upon to make the most momentous decision in the history of the world. While sailing home from Potsdam, he gave the order to drop the bomb on Hiroshima. Despite the tragic carnage, he had lost no sleep over it. The best estimate was that the invasion of Japan would cost five hundred thousand American casualties, a situation to be avoided at all costs.
Unfortunately, to his chagrin, he had to make the decision twice since it was obvious that the stupidly stubborn and fanatic Japanese warlords needed more convincing. He’d let history make its own judgment of his actions. His decision had ended the war; wasn’t that the primary mission of the Commander-in-Chief? Would Roosevelt have made the same decision? Of course! Why then develop the bomb in the first place? He felt certain that if the war in Europe had continued, Roosevelt would not have hesitated to drop the bomb on Germany. Nor would he.
In the end, it was his decision to make, his decision alone, and he would stick by it to his grave.
Churchill was late and the president was getting impatient. He turned to his friend and military aide, General Harry Vaughn. The heavyset man was his lifelong friend from their Missouri National Guard days. In the lonely mental sepulcher of the presidency, Truman welcomed the warmth and comfort of an old buddy.
Unfortunately, much to Truman and Vaughn’s distress, The Washington Post referred to him as “the president’s poker-playing crony” as if it were one word. It was true, of course. Playing poker was one of the President’s greatest pleasures, and Harry Vaughn was a regular. Poker gave Truman a chance to unwind from the rigors and intensity of the presidency, and playing with pals had been a weekly ritual on the presidential yacht.
He was looking forward to a game later during the eighteen-hour railroad trip. Perhaps, he could persuade Mr. Churchill to join the table. He was purported to be somewhat of a gambler.
“Where the hell is he?” the President smirked. “You’d think he was still Prime Minister.”
“He’ll be here. I’m told he’s always late,” Vaughan said.
“You got me into this, Harry,” Truman said, referring to Vaughn’s ties to Westminster College. Vaughn had suggested Churchill as speaker and Truman as introducer, to show his personal clout to his buddies on the college board of trustees and to the President of the college, “Bullet” McCluer.
After all, what good was it to be in the White House and close to the president if you couldn’t flex your muscle now and then and show the home folks you were, as they used to say: A Big Man on Campus?
Truman was growing testy at Churchill’s tardiness. He watched the various members of the press milling around the gated entrance to the track. A few Baltimore & Ohio cars had been attached to the train for members of the press. A large group of onlookers had gathered to watch the proceedings, hoping to get a look at Churchill.
“Did you read his speech?” Vaughn asked.
“He won’t show it, and I would prefer not to read it, knowing how he feels about the Russians. I’ll bet he’ll give Stalin holy hell for the way the Commies are behaving these days. He never did believe the bastards would live up to their agreements. He has a point, but this is not the time for us to slam them; there is a lot of sympathy for them still. They made a hell of a lot of sacrifices. Dammit, they lost seven million men on the battlefield, not to mention all the civilians the Germans killed. You can’t take that away from them.”
“And they raped their way through Germany,” Vaughn grunted.
“If conditions were reversed, and our soil was plundered and our citizens butchered, who knows what our boys might have done.”
“We’re not that kind of people, Mr. President.”
“Read history, Harry. As a committed Baptist, I guess you might say that I like to see the good in people not the bad. But as a student of history, such a view is suspect. It is not a pretty story.”
Truman removed his glasses from his myopic eyes and wiped the lenses, squinting into the distance, then carefully put them on again.
“Be nice to know what he’s going to say, especially since you’re going to introduce him,” Vaughn said.