by Larry Berman
Bud was not lacking advice from former CNOs. Admiral Arleigh Burke understood that long deployments and congressional cuts had contributed to the problems at sea, but said that “unless people are given very severe punishments no matter what the basic reasons might be, you will have more trouble.”78 From reading press clippings, Burke thought Bud was blaming his senior officers; Burke did not think that was the right thing to do. Bud urged Burke to read the text of the speech and determine if it was a dressing down of flag officers. Bud implored Burke to remember that “we have only had trouble on three (of 596 ships).” Burke predicted that “it will spread.” Years later Burke offered the following assessment: “I think he’s a brilliant man—but I think he became impatient with other people who were not so brilliant. I think he got his personal ambitions confused with his obligations to the service, and you can never mix up your own personal ambitions with your service obligations.”79
Admiral Robert Carney shared Burke’s view. In a conversation with Bud, the former CNO recognized that the navy had reached “the elastic limits on what we are doing to our people” because of longer deployments and no access to good liberty ports. That said, Carney thought Bud’s comments to flag officers “looked like an indictment against the whole command structure.” Carney, who had read the text twice, advised Bud that “we can’t have the point where these birds are demanding something from the commanding officer.”80
Former CNO David McDonald wanted Bud to throw the book at the Connie protesters for being AWOL after he had been so good to them. “This is going to be hard—especially hard because of the preponderance of blacks. Problem is that for everyone black that thinks he is being discriminated against because of color, there are a lot of whites who believe we are giving them privileges because of color.” Bud’s only chance was to say, “Look by God, I meant it and I think it was for the Navy’s good. I also meant it when I said I wasn’t going to let any of these things lower discipline. . . . Whatever you do Bud, you are in for it. You can’t please everybody.”81
Meanwhile, a handful of retired admirals were working with key contacts in the media and on the Hill to undermine Bud’s credibility. Their ringleader was Admiral George Anderson, who had succeeded the legendary Arleigh Burke, but after clashing with Robert McNamara during the Cuban Missile Crisis had not been reappointed for a second two-year term as CNO. At that time, Anderson did not seem to understand the nuances of the dangerous military-political game and highly resented Defense Department intervention into the deployment of ships. When Bud became CNO, Tom Moorer warned that Anderson would be a “dead hand on the tiller,” meaning that he would always be second-guessing Bud and looking over his shoulder. As soon as the first Z-grams were out, Anderson started taking issue with them, speaking with anyone who would listen to his second-guessing.
Bud’s first run-in with Anderson had been years earlier, when he commanded the Isbell. Bud had had to disembark a sailor on emergency leave in order to catch a plane. As he proceeded into port on the southern part of Taiwan, Bud saw Anderson’s flagship. At that time Anderson was in command of the Formosa patrol force. Custom and tradition required that Bud give way and fall astern of his flagship in order to let him into port first. To do so, however, would mean that the sailor would miss the plane to the States. Bud sent a detailed message to Anderson, explaining the circumstances and requesting permission to proceed into port ahead of his flagship. No reply came, which meant either that Bud had permission or that Anderson had not received the message in time to veto it. Bud proceeded into port and disembarked the sailor. Shortly after Anderson’s flagship arrived in port, Bud received a visit from an officer seeking proof that Bud had actually disembarked a sailor on emergency leave and had not shown Anderson up. “This lack of trust and basic sense or irritation in the circumstances, I found noteworthy,” said Bud.82
Bud knew that Anderson was the “anonymous” White House source on most negative stories about the Z-grams and the rumors of Zumwalt’s firing. Anderson was a member of the President’s Foreign Intelligence Advisory Board and benefited enormously from the access and legitimacy of that position. “Admiral Anderson never had the guts to speak to me about his own views. . . . Admiral Anderson is by nature shallow, vain, egotistical,” said Bud. “He is a back-biter, and quite two-faced, all in all, very well-suited to be a member of the Nixon White House staff.”83
The Anderson Papers provide ample documentation of a personal vendetta against Bud and his policies. When James Holloway was nominated to succeed Bud as CNO, Anderson wrote directly to the nominee: “It is most satisfying to so many of us that the selection process for the office of Chief of Naval Operations has reverted back to the choice of an individual [who] by background and experience, is immediately qualified to take the helm.”84 He railed against Bud for “emasculating the list of senior flag officers” and that “the deliberate campaign of early retirement for experienced flag officers has been uniquely effective in eliminating experience in this regard.” In a letter to Bud dated January 25, 1971, Anderson observed, “I had a different policy on girls [at the academy] on beards and mustaches when I had command of the Sixth Fleet.”
During this period of crisis related to the Kitty Hawk and the Constellation, Anderson wrote Bud that “we on the retired list are always most anxious to be completely responsive to the requests and objectives of the Chief of Naval Operations. Because we believe that he is the one who is ‘standing the watch on the bridge’ in the stormy seas endeavoring to avoid the rocks and shoals which always seem to be threatening our wonderful Navy. It is most distressing when this support cannot be a hundred percent across the board and universal on the part of us.”85 That was an understatement. Bud was by now well on to Anderson’s games, evidenced by his handwritten note at the bottom of a letter from Anderson apologizing that he could not attend Bud’s speech at the D.C. chapter of the Naval Academy Alumni Association at the Army-Navy Club and regretted not being able to hear Bud’s views on the needs of the navy. Bud wrote at the bottom of the letter, “and then the bunnie rabbits came out of the woods and fed carrots to the unicorns—B.S. . . . George.”86
Dan Murphy warned Bud that Anderson had strong allies. “There were a lot of perturbed people that would use every chance they get to let you have it. You just don’t hear much support any more.”87 Bud was puzzled because the navy “was carrying so much of the war and doing it well.”
The activities of Bud’s opponents were hardly stealthy, but he also had equally vocal backing. Retired master chief petty officer Chester A. Wright wrote to Secretary Warner, “It is with chagrin, shame and a sense of alarm that I found that a group of retired apostles of yester-year’s vintage are attempting to scuttle the first breath of fresh air breathed into that Naval Leadership since 1919.” Congratulating Bud for moving the navy into the modern era and facing the realities of the day, Wright understood that “what makes this attack doubly tragic is that if these retired armchair strategists had done their own homework while they were in the rough and tumble command arena, Elmo Zumwalt would not have half the racial troubles that he presently must deal with.”88
Rear Admiral George H. Miller offered similar support. “Have been particularly concerned about reported second-guessing by some alumni who did little, if anything, to advance the cause . . . while they were in office. . . . Stick to your guns, and you’ll win in the long run. As Smedberg once told me, if you can’t lick ’em, outlast ’em. I’m with you 100 per cent.” Bud wrote back that while Smedberg had the right idea, “I’d really like to lick ’em, too.”89
The crisis also brought out the racists.90 A sampling of the daily hate mail reveals an ugly underside of the 1970s. W. Joe Lowry of San Diego wrote, “Dear Admiral: Having nigger troubles? Give them an inch and they take a mile. Clobber them over the head with a club at the first sign of insurrection, and you may get by with them for a while until you clobber them again. But your navy loves niggers—make them officers and even Admiral. And you
talk about equality! The nigger’s equality is to dominate the whole picture and kick whitey in the rear. You will never give them enough to satisfy for it will always be more and more and more.”91 From a retired chief petty officer: “The idea of tongue lashing the upper echelon of the Navy makes me want to vomit. . . . Your command should be the U.S.S. African Queen named after the people you must represent and bow to.”92
R. H. Rothley of Fairview Heights, Illinois, sent his letter directly to John Warner, urging that Zumwalt be fired. “It is evident that Zumwalt has the back bone of a jelly-fish, and is a bleeding heart do-gooder, unable to maintain order.”93 W. P. Ricks of Rocky Mount, North Carolina, suggested a new Z-gram, the shortest of all—“I quit.”94 From Yonkers, New York, Harlan Tucker wrote, “Booze, beer, broads, and beards on the ships of our navy, are a hell of a way to maintain discipline. Frankly, I think you are nuttier than that cockamamie name of yours: I doubt if you are in possession of the intestinal fortitude to resign; therefore, President Nixon should boot you out.”95 A. Miller called Zumwalt “a mush brained pseudo-intellectual dimwit.”96 One brave anonymous soul asked, “I wonder how many waves (navy girls, call girls) you have at your command. A different one each time you want a fuck.” P.S: “That name sounds German.”97
Recently released tapes reveal that President Nixon defined the situation in ways similar to the letter writers. On November 13, Kissinger tried redirecting a conversation to “that navy dude, that Zumwalt.” Before Kissinger could complete his sentence, the president said, “About the race thing, calm down, quite frankly, if anything, now let’s be quite candid about it, honestly, if anything the problem in the Navy and all the armed services is that they are determining too much for the blacks, giving them positions they aren’t able to do.” Nixon then asked, “It is mutiny, isn’t it?”98 On a December 20, 1972, tape, Kissinger questioned Bud’s competence, telling the president that “his lack of intelligence has dropped on his lack of character.”99
Bud had always enjoyed his working relationship with Congressman F. Edward Hébert, chair of the Armed Services Committee. Hébert had been predisposed to doing more for defense and was a strong supporter of navy budgets. He did not favor Bud’s changes in the personnel area, but the two men managed to find a way to forge a productive working relationship. “Eddie did not think that long hair and beards were consistent with good discipline, did not favor women going to sea, and preferred to maintain the Navy’s traditional policies towards minorities,” wrote Bud.100
Bud’s speech to the admirals was the tipping point for Hébert, who had attended the U.S. Marine Corps birthday party in New Orleans. Several senior members of the marine and navy old guard told Hébert that Bud had been way out of line giving that speech and speaking that way to flag officers. Urged by his close friends, like retired Admiral Anderson, who was leading the smear campaign, on Monday, November 13, Hébert called for an investigation and hearings into “alleged racial and disciplinary problems” in the navy.101
When Bud got word of the hearings, he called Hébert in New Orleans. The only good thing about this was that a friend was doing it to him, Bud told Hébert as he began a conversation with a man who had opposed the 1964 Civil Rights Act on the grounds that “I do not believe it is equitable. I do not believe it is valid.”102 Hébert wanted Bud to know that what really bothered him was chewing out his admirals. Commanding officers didn’t “eat out their Admirals. You chewed out your own people on this side and didn’t say anything about the other people . . . they got convicted in public without a trial.” Bud held his ground. “All we said to the officers was get off your duffs and get this squared away.” Hébert warned Bud that the navy was “headed for real trouble because of the so-called equality business and quota business of putting people in jobs they are not qualified for. . . . Gotta have a quota for blacks just because they are black—I don’t buy that.”103
Bud tried to explain that the offenders from the Constellation were being processed as rapidly as possible by lawful procedures, but Hébert sounded like Kissinger and Nixon. “You mean the CO is telling them not to be bad boys again. . . . They refused an order!” Bud said that the only order they had refused was to go back on ship, which is simply absence without leave. There were 593 other ships that hadn’t had a problem and “are fighting a hell of a tough war while working 18 to 20 hours a day.” Bud asked Hébert why the whole navy was being indicted.
Hébert wanted Bud to know that the backlash from his speech to the admirals had been horrible. Even the venerable Carl Vinson had called to say, “Get rid of Zumwalt.” The now retired Vinson was a founding parent of the two-ocean navy and was often referred to as Mr. Armed Services or Mr. Navy.104 Hébert appointed Democrat Floyd Hicks of Washington to chair the subcommittee investigation. Hicks was flanked by lame-duck Republican congressman Alexander Pirnie from New York, a man Bud knew “believed in busting heads to maintain discipline.” The other member was Wilbur Clarence “Dan” Daniel, a Democrat from Virginia whom Bud regarded as “very pro-defense and very people oriented, but definitely segregationist.” Bud understood that Hébert had assigned Daniel to the committee “to ride shotgun, as it were, on Hicks, and report back every evening on how the chairman had done that day.”
Admiral Bill Thompson saw the hearings as a charade by “southern congressmen making a move to show what they thought of Zumwalt’s programs relative to minorities—blacks, Hispanics, Filipinos and women—also their dislike for beards and women as aviators and serving aboard ship.”105 Bud’s former flag aide Lew Glenn wrote directly to Hébert, registering astonishment at the scurrilous attacks on his boss: “During the past few weeks I have read with increasing dismay and disbelief the stories concerning permissiveness in the Navy. Having worked closely with Admiral Zumwalt in Vietnam when he was Commander, Naval Forces, VN and having served on board ship after he became Chief of Naval Operations, I have seen his firm leadership in the close combat environment and felt his direction over the entire Navy. Having served under his leadership in these capacities, it amazes me that Admiral Zumwalt’s total dedication to law and order and sound discipline is not apparent to everyone.”106
Bud began to see the Hicks hearings as an opportunity to make his last stand against those who sought to pin the label of permissiveness on the navy’s personnel policies and those who argued that integration had created permissiveness. Bud asked aloud why these types of problems had not yet occurred in the Atlantic Fleet or even on Atlantic Fleet ships operating in the Pacific.107 There could be only one answer—extended deployments, not the Z-grams. He was not going down without a fight. He would be fired, ordered to slow down equal opportunity, or win. His own political antennae told him that he would have the support of all the liberals in Congress who had opposed his defense budgets. When Bud turned to John Warner for support, he was told it was his mess to clean up. “The fascinating thing then was to try to carry out these hearings with a Secretary of the Navy who was hostile to what I was trying to do.”
Bud would need guile, skill, and luck over the next six weeks. “I have never been in a nastier fight or one that was more important to win.”108 He and his staff went into crisis mode, a “total preoccupation with survival,”109 working day and night, putting out fires, building support, rallying political pressure. Bud felt under siege, much as Richard Nixon must have felt, except “I didn’t feel like a crook.”110 Bud also began to see the bigger playing field—a “right wing racist reaction” organized by Anderson and others, who was working in the Nixon White House as a presidential assistant with good contacts among the press and the retired-officers community. He also took notice of people taking sides, like Admiral Isaac Kidd, whose deviousness would never be forgotten. Anderson kept in close contact with Kidd, who was providing minute-by-minute advice from the inside as to how best to proceed while keeping his hands very well covered. Bud was told by his friends on the Hill that Kidd was also using Admiral Rickover to promote Kidd as the man who could straighten
the navy out. Making matters worse was the perception that John Warner “was working against Bud with the Admirals,” said Roberta Hazard.111
John Warner was growing weary of Bud’s insistence that he be allowed to hit the airwaves. Warner did not think that using the rationale of extended deployments would have any traction with the general public or in Congress. In a memorandum for the record, Bud noted, “My decision is to use it but make it one of the last factors in my briefing.”112 J. Fred Buzhardt, Jr., general counsel for the Department of Defense, was now closely involved as one of Bud’s confidants and strategists. Buzhardt agreed with Warner in this instance. He was “very reluctant to see me put too much stress on the deployments because this turns the press off.” Warner warned that there could be no distance between the two men in public statements. Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Public Affairs Jerry Friedheim urged Bud to understand that “we have to make it down the road for the good of what you and John will do next year.”113
The Hicks hearings were scheduled to begin on November 20. Bud’s sources on the Hill had already made clear that the hearings were going to focus on whether or not there was permissiveness in the navy. Meanwhile Bud was fuming about the inspector general’s recently released report on the Connie. That report identified Z-grams as a contributing factor in the breakdown in intraship command and control. “I went through all Z-Grams and I’ll be damned if I can find anything that could be interpreted that way,” Bud told Clarey. “Z-Grams speak to sailors and by-pass the chain of command,” replied a frank Clarey.114 Clarey wanted to improve the middle-management guys. “The black CPO [chief petty officer] and first class [petty officers] are looked at as being Uncle Toms—we have to educate these people—tell them to get with it or get out.”
With the hearings approaching, Fred Buzhardt thought the time had arrived for Bud to reach out to Carl Vinson through retired rear admiral Robert H. Hare. Hare had spent part of his younger years growing up in South Carolina, had graduated from law school there, and had retired to South Carolina after serving with distinction as deputy judge advocate general. He was good friends with both Carl Vinson and Eddie Hébert. The plan was for Bud to ask Hare to arrange a meeting with Vinson.115 Bud began the conversation with Hare by saying, “I’m in a bit of trouble,” adding that he could use some help. Bud told Hare that he had just mailed him a copy of his speech to flag officers as well as the latest Z-grams on the importance of good order and discipline. He asked Hare to “find it in his conscience” to speak with Vinson, because Vinson could not possibly be getting the full story. Bud explained that he had “been fighting my heart out for about a year,” because navy personnel had been stretched to the breaking point. Six rather than three carriers were deployed in Southeast Asia at the same time as the stand-down in Vietnam and congressional budget cuts. Certainly problems existed, but Vinson could not possibly be getting the full story.