that he permitted me to see his feelings is the finest compliment I have ever had.
“Look at it this way,” he went on more patiently; “this dust, as a weapon, is not
just simply sufficient to safeguard the United States, it amounts to a loaded gun
held at the head of every man, woman, and child on the globe!”
“Well,” I answered, “what of that? It’s our secret, and we’ve got the upper
hand. The United States can put a stop to this war, and any other war. We can
declare a Pax Americana, and enforce it.”
“Hm-m-m-I wish it were that easy. But it won’t remain our secret; you can
count on that. It doesn’t matter how successfully we guard it; all that anyone needs
is the hint given by the dust itself and then it is just a matter of time until some
other nation develops a technique to produce it. You can’t stop brains from working,
John; the reinvention of the method is a mathematical certainty, once they know what
it is they are looking for. And uranium is a common enough substance, widely
distributed over the globe-don’t forget that!
“It’s like this: Once the secret is out-and it will be out if we ever use
the stuff!-the whole world will be comparable to a room full of men, each armed with
a loaded .45. They can’t get out of the room and each one is dependent on the good
will of every other one to stay alive. All offense and no defense. See what I mean?”
I thought about it, but I still didn’t guess at the difficulties. It seemed
to me that a peace enforced by us was the only way out, with precautions taken to
see that we controlled the sources of uranium. I had the usual American subconscious
conviction that our country would never use power in sheer aggressior Later, I
thought about the Mexican War and the Spar ish-American War and some of the things
we did i Central America, and I was not so sure- It was a couple of weeks later,
shortly after inauguration day, that Manning told me to get the Chief of Staff’s
office on the telephone. I heard only the tail en of the conversation. “No, General,
I won’t,” Manning was saying. “I won’t discuss it with you, or the Secr tary,
either. This is a matter the Commander in Chi is going to have to decide in the long
run. If he turns down, it is imperative that no one else ever knoi~ about it. That’s
my considered opinion.. . . What that? . . . I took this job under the condition
that I wa to have a free hand. You’ve got to give me a little le way this time.. . .
Don’t go brass hat on me. I kne~ you when you were a plebe… . O.K., O.K., sorry…
If the Secretary of War won’t listen to reason, you te him I’ll be in my seat in the
House of Representativc tomorrow, and that I’ll get the favor I want from th
majority leader. . . . All right. Good-bye.”
Washington rang up again about an hour later.] was the Secretary of War.
This time Manning listene more than he talked. Toward the end, he said, “All want is
thirty minutes alone with the President. I nothing comes of it, no harm has been
done. If I convince him, then you will know all about it. . . . No, Sir.”
I did not mean that you would avoid responsibility. intended to be helpful. . . .
Fine! Thank you, Mr. Se retary.”
The White House rang up later in the day and set time.
We drove down to the District the next day throug a nasty cold rain that
threatened to turn to sleet. TF usual congestion in Washington was made worse b the
weather; it very nearly caused us to be late in a:
riving. I could hear Manning swearing under his breath all the way down Rhode Island
Page 48
Avenue. But we were dropped at the west wing entrance to the White House with two
minutes to spare. Manning was ushered into the Oval Office almost at once and I was