FOR CHITRIB
PRESS IMMEDIATE
NOTE TO EDITOR AP, UP AND INS WILL HAVE PICS
SLUG MACARTHUR COMES TO KOREA
BY JEANETTE PRIESTLY, TRIBUNE WAR COR-RESPONDENT SUWON, SOUTH KOREA JUNE 27-THE REMAINS OF AN AIR FORCE C54 DESTROYED BY NORTH KOREAN YAK FIGHTERS WERE STILL SMOLDERING WHEN THE BATAAN, THE GLISTENING C54 OF SUPREME COMMAN-DER GENERAL DOUGLAS MACARTHUR, TOUCHED DOWN AT THIS BATTERED AIRFIELD 30 MILES SOUTH OF THE JUST CAPTURED SOUTH KOREAN CAPITAL OF SEOUL THIS AFTER-NOON. WEARING HIS FAMILIAR BATTERED CAP AND A FUR-COLLARED LEATHER JACKET, HIS CORN-COB PIPE PERCHED JAUNTILY IN HIS MOUTH, GENERAL OF THE ARMY DOUGLAS MACARTHUR CONFIDENTLY PREDICTED TO THIS REPORTER THAT SEOUL WILL SOON BE RID OF THE INVADER.
She looked up from the portable, saw that the Palace Guard had somehow found a Jeep and were obviously in-tending to join the MacArthur convoy.
She slammed the cover shut on the Royal, jumped to her feet, and ran to it. She climbed over the rear seat just as it started to move.
"Yes, thank you," Jeanette said, beaming. "I would like to go along."
[FIVE]
WASHINGTON, D.C.
0905 26 JUNE 1950
The President of the United States came out the front door of Blair House, almost jauntily descended the stairway, and indicated with a nod of his head that he was going to turn right.
Two of the six Secret Service agents on the detail quickly took up positions so that they could precede him; two waited to bring up the tail; and two positioned them-selves so that they would be just a few steps behind him. Across the street, two Chevrolet Suburbans started their engines. One moved ahead of the little parade and the sec-ond positioned itself behind the tail.
The Secret Service agent heading the parade turned and looked questioningly at the President.
"The Foster Lafayette," the President said. "Senator Fowler."
"Thank you, sir," the Secret Service agent said. Senator Richardson K. Fowler maintained a suite in the Foster Lafayette. Not an ordinary suite, though God knew suites in the Lafayette were large and elegant as they came, but an apartment made up of two suites, and furnished, the President had learned, with museum-quality antiques.
Fowler was quite wealthy, and unlike some of his peers in the Senate, made no effort at all to conceal it. He con-sidered public service a privilege, and living in Washing-ton, D.C, even as well as he did, as the terrible price he had to pay for that privilege.
The President walked briskly, three times tipping his white Panama straw hat and smiling and waving to people on both sides of Pennsylvania Avenue who recognized him. The Foster Lafayette Hotel was directly across Pennsyl-vania Avenue from the White House, the far side-from Blair House-of Lafayette Square. The general manager of the hotel was standing under the marquee beside the doorman, obviously waiting for the President.
The Secret Service agent in the lead again turned and looked questioningly at the President.
"I guess when I invited myself to breakfast, Senator Fowler told him," the President said.
The President shook hands with both the general man-ager-and called him by name-and the doorman, entered the hotel, walked across the lobby to a waiting elevator, and followed the lead two Secret Service agents onto it.
When the elevator reached the top floor, the President saw that a large, very black man wearing a gray cotton jacket and a wide smile was standing by the open door of Senator Fowler's suite.
"Good morning, Mr. President," he said. "Nice to see you again, sir. The senator's waiting for you."
The President offered him his hand.
"Hello, Franklin," Truman said. "It's good to see you, too,"
He followed the lead two Secret Service agents into Fowler's apartment.
Richardson K. Fowler and Fleming Pickering rose to their feet.
"Good morning, Mr. President," Fowler said.
"Good morning," the President said. "Could these fel-lows wait in your study?"
"Of course, Mr. President," Fowler said.
"It's through there," the President said, pointing. "When I need you, I'll call."
The Secret Service agent was visibly unhappy with his orders to be left alone.
"It's all right," Truman went on. "Senator Fowler thinks I'm a threat to the country, but I don't think he's thinking of assassination. Go on."
"Yes, Mr. President," the Secret Service agent said, and trailed by the other, left the room, closing the door after themselves.
The President turned to Fowler.
"You can call me `Harry,' Dick. We've known each other a long time."
"A long enough time to know better, Mr. President. What is it they say, `beware of Democrats wearing smiles'?"
Truman smiled, and offered his hand to Fleming Picker-ing.
"Thank you for coming, General," he said. "And I have to say that for a man who spent the night flying across the country, you don't look very mussed."
"I was very mussed, Mr. President, when we landed at Andrews," Pickering said.
Franklin appeared with a silver coffee set and placed it on the sitting room's coffee table.
"What did you set up for breakfast, Franklin?" Fowler asked.
"A little buffet, Senator. I thought you gentlemen would rather be alone."
"Why don't you move the coffee into the dining room? Then I won't spill it on my new tie."
"Yes, sir," Franklin said, and picked up the tray and car-ried it into the dining room, with the three men following him.
He set the tray on a table that would hold sixteen diners, then left the room.
"Before we go a word further, it is agreed that this is out of school, right?" Truman asked.
"Agreed, Mr. President," Fowler said.
"Yes, sir," Pickering said.
The President looked at Pickering as if making up his mind about something.
"What is it they say in the Navy, General? `Let's clear the decks'?"
"It's something like that, Mr. President. But I'm really not a general, Mr. President. That was a long time ago."
"Let's clear that part of the deck first, General," Truman said. "Yes, you are. You are a brigadier general, USMC, Reserve."
Pickering was about to argue when he stopped.
Goddamn it, maybe I am. Probably, I am. I was never discharged, in `45. I was released from active duty and or-dered to my home of record.
"And as your commander-in-chief, General, I can order you to keep anything that's said in this room to yourself."
Pickering looked at him but said nothing.
"Unfortunately, I can't order you around, Dick," Truman went on, "as either a senator or a journalist. I can only ap-peal to your patriotism. We've said-and probably be-lieve-some unkind things about each other, but I don't think you've ever questioned my patriotism, and I certainly have never questioned yours."
"What is it you want, Mr. President?" Fowler asked, coldly.
"I don't want headlines on the front page of every news-paper in the country reading, `MacArthur Ignored Warning of North Korean Attack,'" Truman said.
"In point of fact, Mr. President," Pickering said, "I don't believe General MacArthur was aware of McCoy's assess-ment."
"He's in charge over there, General," Truman said. "He should have been made aware of this assessment. He's re-sponsible for the actions-or lack of action-of his subor-dinates."