James Forrestal’s
“Breakdown”
Chapter 32 of Townsend Hoopes and Douglas
Brinkley’s widely acclaimed 1992 biography of America’s first Secretary of
Defense, Driven Patriot:
The Life and Times of James Forrestal, is entitled
“Breakdown.” It begins like this:
Forrestal was present at Louis Johnson’s
swearing-in ceremony at the Pentagon on the morning of March 28 [1949]. Shortly thereafter, in accordance with
custom, he drove to the White House for a final good-bye to the President. To his surprise, Truman had assembled the
entire Cabinet, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and other government dignitaries,
and there followed a second ceremony, this one honoring the retiring Secretary
of Defense for “meritorious and distinguished service.” The President, beaming and ebullient, added
his personal congratulations in effusive terms, and the audience warmly applauded
the honored man. Forrestal was visibly
flustered and so choked with emotion that he was totally unable to respond, but
the audience did not appear to regard this as any cause for alarm, or even
unexpected, given the inherently emotional nature of the occasion and the
general recognition of Forrestal’s physical exhaustion. (p. 446)
Thus, they set the ominous tone for what
is to be the beginning of Forrestal’s end.
A curious and astute reader of my recently published book, The Assassination
of James Forrestal, has made a discovery on the Internet that calls this
account of the White House proceedings into question. Have a look at this news clip. It is very
brief, but it appears to give the lie to the image that the authors have
painted of an overwrought man overcome with exhaustion and choked with
emotion. He really looks perfectly
normal to me and very much in control of himself.
That’s at the beginning of the
proceedings, but it looks like he was hardly in a condition to be so
overwhelmed by the accolades to follow that he would be unable to respond. I had never noticed the contradiction before,
but here is what Forrestal’s aide, Marx Leva, has to say about
that ceremony in an interview he gave to the Truman Library in 1969. It’s at the bottom of page 34 of my book and
under the section, “Forrestal Protégé, Marx Leva” in this article.
Louis
Johnson, who I had not met before he was sworn in, was to have been sworn in on
March the 31st of 1949. Forrestal apparently just thought he couldn't hold on
any longer, I didn't realize that until later, and asked that this ceremony be
moved up to March the 28th. It was moved up to March 28th and while Forrestal
was terribly tired, it was--he spoke briefly but well. The ceremony went off
fine.
Leva might reinforce the “exhausted”
claim—although Forrestal doesn’t look “terribly tired” to me—but he states that
not only did Forrestal speak on the occasion, but he spoke well. So, what is the source for the Hoopes and
Brinkley claim that the fatigued, overwhelmed Forrestal just clammed up? Their endnote tells us that it is the 1963
book by Arnold A. Rogow, James
Forrestal: A Study of Personality, Politics and Policy. Very much of what Hoopes and
Brinkley have wrong about Forrestal’s demise, in fact, turns out to be
traceable to the apparent Zionist partisan Rogow. Since in my articles and in my book, I refer
most often to the accounts of the better-known and more recent of the two
books, the time has come to go right to the source of the error.
Rogow’s Version
Rogow
is also the primary source for what Hoopes and Brinkley say transpired on the
fateful next day, March 29, 1949. A big
ceremony was held on Capitol Hill honoring Forrestal, and they say that that
time, not being taken by surprise, Forrestal was at no loss for words and
handled everything quite well. It was
only after Forrestal supposedly rode back to the Pentagon with his arch-nemesis,
Air Force Secretary Stuart Symington (an assertion that Symington denied), that
things began to fall apart. Here is Rogow’s account, with links added:
When
they reached the Pentagon, Forrestal went to a small office that had been
assigned to him for the purpose of dictating replies to the many persons who
had written or wired him deploring his departure from public life.
A
short time later, one of his aides entered the office and immediately became
aware that Forrestal was sitting in an extremely rigid position. He was still wearing his hat, the bowl was in
front of him on the desk, and he was staring at the bare wall directly
opposite. Forrestal appeared not to know
that someone had entered the room. His
assistant, disturbed by Forrestal’s manner and appearance, asked, “Is something
the matter?” Forrestal did not at first
reply, but after the question was repeated he
responded, “You are a loyal fellow.” He
was to repeat that statement several times during the next few hours.
When
Forrestal left the Pentagon for his home in Georgetown, he was bewildered to
find that he no longer enjoyed the use of an official government
limousine. He appeared to be dazed by
that knowledge, and his aide, who was now greatly alarmed by his behavior,
arranged for the two of them to be driven to Forrestal’s Georgetown house by
Dr. Vannevar Bush’s
chauffeur. Finding no one at home when
they arrived, and sensing that Forrestal should not be left alone, the aide got
in touch with Ferdinand Eberstadt, a New York investment banker and one of Forrestal’s
closest personal friends. The aide
suggested that Eberstadt persuade Forrestal to fly to
Hobe Sound, Florida, where his wife, Robert
Lovett, and other friends were vacationing
at the time. Eberstadt
was to follow this advice, but first he proceeded to the house to make his own
judgment of his friend’s physical and mental condition.
He
was shocked to discover that Forrestal was extremely agitated and
depressed. In the privacy of his house
Forrestal confessed to Eberstadt that he was a
complete failure and that he was considering suicide. He also expressed the conviction that a
number of individuals—Communists, Jews, and certain persons in the White
House—had formed a conspiracy to “get” him, and had
finally succeeded. He insisted that some
of “them” were probably in his house at that very moment, and he proceeded to
search closets and other areas of the house where they might be hiding.
Shocked
by his behavior, Eberstadt telephoned Secretary
Johnson to report that Forrestal was a very sick man in need of immediate
medical attention. Johnson agreed that
Forrestal undoubtedly would be helped by a long rest in Hobe Sound, where
Robert Lovett and some of Forrestal’s other close friends
maintained residences. An Air Force Constellation
was made immediately ready for the trip to Florida, and on March 29, in the
early evening of the same day that Forrestal had been honored by the House
Armed Services Committee, the Air Force plane with Forrestal aboard put down at
a small field near Hobe Sound.
The
Forrestal party was met by Mrs. Forrestal, Lovett, and a small circle of
friends. Lovett recalls that Forrestal,
when he debarked from the plane, was so changed in appearance that it was not
at all easy to recognize him. In
addition to looking haggard and much older than his years (he was fifty-seven),
Forrestal’s always thin mouth was so tightly drawn that neither the upper nor
the lower teeth could be seen. His eyes,
which appeared sunken in an ashen face, searched suspiciously among the small
group of friends that had gathered to meet him.
At one point, when it seemed that he would fall off the ladder from the
plane (there was no landing ramp available), Lovett reached up to catch
him. In an effort to be jocular, Lovett
said, “Jim, I hope you’ve brought your golf clubs, because the weather here has
been perfect for golf.”
Forrestal’s
only reply was, “Bob, they’re after me.” (pp. 4-5)
Mind you, this description of Forrestal
coming down from the airplane in Florida is of an occurrence only the next day
after the White House ceremony that we can see by clicking on the link in the
third paragraph above. Could the man
really have deteriorated so much in such a short time? Actually, virtually everything that Rogow has said in the passage is questionable, but up to
now, I had only pointed out two problems with it. He has no source for any of it. Particularly, I have noted, he does not tell
you how he knows what Forrestal said to Eberstadt
about his suicidal state of mind in that fourth paragraph. He has no direct reference to Eberstadt for anything in his book. One gets the impression that he must have
interviewed him, but he never says so.
For some reason, though, he is obviously confident that Eberstadt will not contradict him, although Eberstadt would not die until 1969.
The other problem I have noted is that Rogow is very careful not to identify that other, even more
important, character in the “breakdown” episode, the top aide Marx Leva. Was he worried that if a reader were to seek
out Leva that Leva might not corroborate what he had said? One might think that he needn’t to have
worried, because, in his Truman Library oral history interview, Leva, upon
first blush, appears to reinforce Rogow’s story. Because he is a first-hand witness, I use
Leva’s account in both my article and my book, and I use it uncritically. Now, because of something else that my
correspondent has discovered, I now believe that that was a mistake. The fact that the two accounts are generally
consistent could just as well mean that they are telling the same lie as that
they are telling the truth.
What Marx Leva
Said
First, consider the fact that Rogow’s book had been out for six years by the time that
Leva was interviewed. Its purpose was
obviously to reinforce the suicide story.
Leva had to have been quite familiar with what Rogow
wrote, particularly with respect to his own part in the affair. He had to have known that he couldn’t
contradict Rogow, because that would run the risk of
undermining the entire suicide story.
But now, motivated by my new discovery, I have re-examined the two
accounts and have found that he apparently inadvertently did contradict Rogow on some very important points, and that neither story
holds up very well under careful scrutiny.
Leva makes an even bigger deal than Rogow does of the fact that Forrestal appears to be
befuddled that suddenly he is not provided with transportation home. Why shouldn’t he have been? It’s pretty clear that, as he had become
accustomed, a government car and driver took him to work that morning. They were still providing him an office. How did they think he was supposed to get
home? If it actually happened, whose
error was this? I believe that I would
have been a bit confused and annoyed by this turn of events myself, and I would
hope that my aide would not take it as a sign that I was cracking up. So, for the government to provide the now
former Secretary of Defense with a short ride across the Key Bridge to
Georgetown is now a big deal, but getting an airplane to fly him to Florida on
the spur of the moment is a snap? But I
am getting ahead of myself.
There are at least three inconsistencies
in the two stories that appear to be important.
Rogow has Forrestal coming home to an empty
house and the aide realizing that this just won’t do, considering Forrestal’s
suddenly alarming mental state. But the
aide, Leva, tells us that Forrestal has a butler who is there. Wouldn’t this really make a huge
difference? Wouldn’t a butler, whose job
it is to cater to his boss’s every whim, be the absolutely ideal person to have
by the man’s side in such a situation?
The fact that a butler was there all along makes that Rogow story—which is tellingly missing from Leva’s
account—of Forrestal running around the house looking for the folks who are
snooping on him sound all the more preposterous.
According to Rogow,
it was the aide’s idea to have Forrestal trundled off to Florida so that he
won’t be left alone in his miserable state.
But Leva, knowing that Forrestal was not alone, tells us that it was Eberstadt’s idea. As
Rogow tells it, after Leva broached the subject, Eberstadt called the new Defense Secretary, Louis Johnson,
who approved, and a big Air Force constellation materialized for the
transporting job just like that. Johnson
is out of the loop in Leva’s account. His story is so confusing,
in fact, that it bears repeating here:
I
knew Mrs. Forrestal wasn't in town, and I told the driver to make sure that the
butler knows that he's there, etc. And then I phoned, as it happened, Mr. Eberstadt who was testifying on the 1949 amendments to the
unification act before the Senate Armed Services Committee. And I said, "I
don't like what I see. Can I meet you?"
He
said, "Yes, I'll meet you at the house."
So,
I met him at the house and the butler said he had gone upstairs. I don't know,
anyway--I’m sort of short-circuiting this. That wasn't exactly what happened.
We first phoned the house, Eber and I got together, the butler said, "He
won't speak to anybody."
Eber
said to the butler, "You tell James (Eber and others of the Princeton
group called him James), you tell James he can get away with that with a lot of
people but not with me." And so he came to the
phone and apparently babbled a lot of stuff about the Russians--apparently it
was just like that. I don't know. The only further thing I knew is that I did
drive to the house, I waited while Eber had the butler pack his clothes. Eber
came out once and said, "Can you get a plane to take him to Florida?"
And
I said, "Certainly."
And
I phoned and we got a Marine plane, I think, I don't know.
It’s really not clear what conversations
took place by phone and which were in person, and it’s not clear how Leva would
know what Eberstadt said to the butler on the phone. Notice, as well, that Leva says that he drove
to Forrestal’s house later, not in the same car with Forrestal, as Rogow has it. But
the really important thing here is that apparent impromptu decision to ship
Forrestal off to Florida. Now it’s supposedly
Eberstadt’s bright idea, who hits the Pentagon guy,
Leva, with it, who just makes a telephone call and, just like that, gets a
Marine, not Air Force, airplane for the job…he thinks maybe.
Excuse me, but something like this would
have taken quite a bit of doing, and I really do think that Leva would have
remembered quite clearly how he managed to pull it off.
Why Take Off for
Florida?
But why would he have acquiesced so easily
in such a hare-brained idea in the first place?
Travel is usually a bit stressful to a person in a generally settled
emotional state. Forrestal is at home
with the apparently perfect person to have at his side in such a situation, his
old familiar butler. If you care about
him and you think he needs some more attention, you bring it to him, you don’t
disrupt his settled routine even more, especially when you’re going to have to
take some extraordinary measures to accomplish it. It’s really difficult for me to believe that
this idea would have bubbled up into the mind of either man in this situation.
Oh, but his wife was down there at Hobe
Sound at Lovett’s estate, you say. Yes,
and that should tell you something. She
was out of town and not at his side when he was receiving all those accolades,
his big send-off, at the White House and on Capitol Hill. It was an open secret that Forrestal’s
marriage was just about the worst part of his life. Hoopes and Brinkley even speculate that that
was one of the reasons that he spent so much time at work. He didn’t want to be in his wife’s
company. She had a well-known drinking
problem, which was likely the result of even more serious emotional
problems. Forcibly throwing Forrestal
back into her company at the end of a long airplane flight sounds to me like
just about the last thing in the world that would have seemed like a good idea
to either Eberstadt or Leva.
Indeed, in their account, Hoopes and
Brinkley tell us that Forrestal, hardly surprisingly, did not want to go, but
that finally he “was overborne by Eberstadt’s
insistence” that he do it. As Hoopes and
Brinkley tell it, everything was Eberstadt’s doing, down
to arranging the airplane flight through Johnson, and they drop Leva completely
from the scene. They also confirm that
there was a butler present, except that they call him the “Filipino houseboy.”
They even tell us his name, and as with butlers, he seems not to need a last
name. The authors identify him only as “Remy.”
According to everyone’s account, once they
reach Hobe Sound, the wife, Josephine Ogden Forrestal, is virtually out of the
picture. She was among the folks who
greeted him as he descended from the airplane, and she played a role in the
decision to have him committed to the Bethesda Naval Hospital, we are told, but
apart from that, you wouldn’t even know that she was there. It was his numerous “friends,” including even
Eberstadt, who flew down shortly afterward, who
hovered around him, making sure that the “despondent” and apparently deranged
Forrestal didn’t kill himself.
Planned Betrayal?
As it happens, my correspondent, the one
who just finished reading my Forrestal book, is a subscriber
to newspaperarchive.com. She has found there what appears to be a wire
service story from Tuesday morning, March 29, 1949, in the Jacksonville
Daily Journal of Jacksonville, Illinois.
The dateline is March 28, and the heading is, “President Gives James
Forrestal Service Medal.” The short article on the newspaper’s front page
describes the “surprise ceremony” at the White House at which President Harry
S. Truman pinned the Distinguished Service Medal on Forrestal’s chest. The concluding four paragraphs are as
follows:
When the President pinned the medal on
him, Forrestal remarked that it was “beyond me” how he merited it.
“You deserve it, Jim,” the President told
him.
The ceremony was witnessed by members of
the cabinet and the heads of the Army, Navy and Air Force.
Forrestal is flying tomorrow to Hobe
Sound, Fla., for a long rest.
Whoa!
Stop the presses! The trip to
Florida the next day for the perfectly healthy and composed guy that you see in
the newsreel clip was already planned.
It was therefore not arranged extemporaneously in response to anything
that transpired the next day. No wonder
Marx Leva seems so strangely hazy about the details and no wonder there are
conflicts in the accounts. The whole story seems to have been made up, and when
people are lying, it’s hard for them to keep their stories straight.
It’s difficult to say how much each of the
players knew about what was happening, but it looks now like the trap was set
in advance there in Florida. The wife,
Josephine, is unlikely to have known what was going on; she was likely
maneuvered into going there because they felt that her approval was necessary
to get Forrestal committed to the Bethesda Naval Hospital for psychiatric
treatment. It could hardly be more
obvious now that this “suicidal” man was railroaded to that 16th
floor of the hospital for the purpose of throwing him out a window when the
time was ripe. Every bit of Forrestal’s
foreboding was entirely justified. As I
speculate in the book, Forrestal is, indeed, likely to have been behaving
somewhat peculiarly on March 29th and in the days afterward, but the
most likely reason for that is that he had been drugged. An indicator of that fact is that, upon
admission to the hospital, it was noted that the pupils of his eyes were
contracted. A possible cause of that is
a barbiturate of some sort in the blood, but no blood test was reported.
The obvious fact that the press knew in
advance that Forrestal would be going to Hobe Sound the next day is akin to TV
reporter Jane Standley of the BBC knowing minutes in advance on
September 11, 2001, that Building 7 of the World Trade Center would collapse,
and it thoroughly undermines everything that Arnold Rogow,
Marx Leva, Townsend Hoopes, and Douglas Brinkley have told us about what took
place after Forrestal was honored on Capitol Hill on March 29, 1949. When might Forrestal have imbibed the
mind-altering drug? Since it is clear
now that Leva is not telling the truth about the decision to send Forrestal
down to Hobe Sound, there is no reason to take Leva’s word over Symington’s on
how Forrestal got back to the Pentagon.
In fact, it now looks very much like Leva—or his handlers—made the story
up that he chose to ride back with a man he had good reason to detest to
conceal what really transpired when Forrestal more plausibly went back to the
Pentagon the same way he had gone up to Capitol Hill, in a vehicle with
Leva. Chances are they did not go
directly back but detoured to a prearranged place for drinks.
The new Hobe Sound revelation also ends
some of the puzzlement we expressed on pp. 20-21 of the book:
We
must wonder…why none of Forrestal’s closest professional associates are known
to have visited or attempted to visit him [at the Bethesda Naval Hospital]. One
would think that men like Ferdinand Eberstadt, Robert
Lovett, and Marx Leva, who…were at his side during his days of decline would
have exhibited continuing personal concern for his well-being by periodic visits
to the hospital.
Leva
takes a weak and defensive stab at an explanation in his Truman Library
interview:
By
the way, psychiatry. He was never permitted to see the people he should have
seen. I'm not sure he should have seen me, I would have reminded him of too
much, but friends of his, people who loved him; Senator Leverett Saltonstall, just to mention one name, not really a
political ally but just someone who really loved him; Kate Foley his secretary.
The
great vice of military medicine is that you see who they want you to see. Louis
Johnson came out to see him and he saw him and that was the last person that he
should have seen you know. Captain Raines couldn't say no to Louis Johnson, but
that's the last thing that should have been done.
Apparently,
the hospital authorities did prevent Monsignor Maurice Sheehy and a couple of
other people from visiting Forrestal and would have prevented his older
brother, Henry, from visiting as well if Henry hadn’t threatened to go public
about their denial, but there is no record that either Leva, Eberstadt, or Lovett even made an attempt.
Transferring
the blame to the psychiatry profession and “military medicine,” Leva is
obviously trying to make excuses for his own apparent callousness. From the Nurse’s Notes
accompanying the testimony to the Willcutts Review
Board, we learn that the first person that Forrestal requested to see was
Admiral Clifford Swanson, the Surgeon General of the Navy, telling the staff
that it was over a matter of vital importance to the Navy. Admiral Swanson would end up visiting
Forrestal in the hospital 14 times. Forrestal’s
powerful anti-Zionist ally, recently resigned Secretary of State and Chief of
Staff of the Army throughout World War II, General George C. Marshall, visited
him on May 14. A General Patterson and
an Admiral Pugh also visited him, as did a few other people who hardly fit the
description that Leva has painted of “permitted” visitors.
Remy,
the butler, visited on May 18 accompanied by Forrestal’s son, likely the
younger son, Peter. Although Hoopes and
Brinkley, referring to Forrestal’s wife, write, “Jo’s visits were not
frequent,” she visited him at the hospital 26 times that we know of (Eleven
pages of the Nurse’s Notes are missing from what the Navy Judge Advocate
General’s Office supplied us in response to our Freedom of Information Act
request.). Peter Forrestal, a Princeton
student at the time, visited almost as frequently, and we know that the older
son Michael, who was working at the time in Paris for roving ambassador for the
Marshall Plan, Averell Harriman, visited at least once because, instead of just
“son,” “oldest son,” is recorded as a visitor at one point.
You
can read between the lines of Leva’s statement that it was entirely his choice
not to visit Forrestal at Bethesda, and it’s really inexcusable. As we note in the book, Eberstadt’s
son, Frederick, has since expressed amazement bordering on dismay that his father
did not visit Forrestal in the hospital, either. With our new revelation about the pre-planned
trip to Hobe Sound, an explanation comes to mind. James Forrestal didn’t just have one Judas
Iscariot in his company, he had several of them.
David
Martin
June
23, 2019
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comment, go to Heresy Central.
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