Zumwalt
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With Watergate unraveling the presidency, Nixon and Kissinger went to Moscow for the SALT II talks. Meanwhile, Bud had been invited to speak about SALT on Meet the Press the day after his change of command, scheduled for June 30, 1974. For obvious reasons, Nixon and Kissinger did not want Bud to appear on the show. Kissinger warned Schlesinger that if Zumwalt went on TV, the navy budget would be cut. “Communiques were filling the airways with orders and threats, including court-martial for the admiral if he spoke out,” recalled Howard Kerr, by now working in the White House for Vice President Ford, but providing regular intel for his boss. Nixon and Kissinger “saw it as a plot.” They called Schlesinger and told him to tell Zumwalt, “If he goes on, we’ll destroy him.” Nixon was so angry that he instructed Schlesinger not to present Bud with the Distinguished Service Medal that had already been approved. Schlesinger was also ordered not to speak at the change-of-command ceremony. Schlesinger advised Bud to cancel his appearance, something Bud refused to do without a written order from the president. Schlesinger pleaded with Bud that if he went on the show, he could not speak about SALT; that he must defer and dodge any questions on the subject.
By now, Bud’s mood was generally one of “gloom and impatience.” He could not wait to be away from “a wrecked President and an unprincipled Secretary of State.” In the midst of a constitutional crisis, Nixon and Kissinger were negotiating a new arms-reduction treaty with the Soviet Union. Moreover, Nixon’s preoccupation with political survival had left Kissinger with an even freer reign. “Both Kissinger’s low opinion of the good sense and the resolve of the American people, and the obvious ego-gratification he derived from engineering foreign-policy spectaculars made me distrust him absolutely as a negotiator.”59
Throughout Zumwalt’s final week in office, tributes arrived from a broad range of friends. California governor Ronald Reagan expressed “gratitude for your many contributions to the defense of your beloved country. Your sincere interest and devotion to the welfare of the individual sailor and the recognition of his importance within the military establishment will remain an inspiration to all who follow you.”60 Rear Admiral William Crowe noted that “the U.S. Navy has been extraordinarily fortunate to have a leader with your vision, energy and courage during these rather trying times. The Navy is not an easy institution to move, even when it’s for its own good, but you have literally succeeded in bringing it into tune with the times and giving it an up-to-date sense of purpose. . . . I will always be proud of the fact that I was in the Navy during this dynamic and exciting period when we turned the corner to face the future squarely.”61
One of the most poignant expressions was a letter signed by sixty-seven officers and crew members of the USS Benjamin Franklin, expressing gratitude for Zumwalt’s commitment to sailors. “We are grateful for your constant efforts to recognize our importance and dignity as individuals. As you leave the service those of us who remain promise that we will continue to strive to be worthy of the trust and respect you have shown us. Smooth sailing, Admiral. The Navy will miss you.”62 Bud quickly replied, “My heartfelt thanks. . . . No other letter that I have received has made me so regretful to be leaving such a magnificent Navy team. None other has done more to reconfirm that our efforts over the past four years were truly worthwhile.”63
From Vice Admiral Robert Baldwin, commander of the Naval Air Force, U.S. Pacific Fleet: “First and foremost, you’ve left an indelible mark. You have been many things to many people, but for an integrated whole of intellect, determination, vision, action and compassion, nobody can hold a candle to you.”64 Tom Moorer joked that by the end of the week, they would both be contributing to the unemployment rate. “I want to express to you my appreciation for your full support and professional assistance during four turbulent years. I believe it is fair to say that we have been through the worst of it—World War II not excepted! In any event, let us look forward—and not backward—and do what we can in the future to contribute to the stability in this shaky land.”65
Bud had one final note to write before leaving office, reminding his successor, “Jimmy,” to never forget that “little people” need to see the chain of command as interested in their welfare.66 Bud attached a letter from Missile Technician Second Class (Submarine) Joseph J. Campisi, Polaris Missile Facility, Atlantic Fleet. “In the last four years I’ve watched you bring the navy out of the dark ages into the 21st century. My only hope is that your successor will continue the work started under your leadership.” Campisi wanted his departing CNO to know that even though he had emphasized people, the “SSBN [nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarine] Fleet didn’t get the word.” Campisi was leaving the navy because of “irreparable damage.” For those who came next, he advised, “Treat your people as you would like them to treat you. Don’t ever treat your men like so many pieces of furniture, because even the best furniture will wear out before its time if you abuse it. . . . I only hope you are not the first and last CNO to gain the admiration of your men, the way you have.”
Bud was delighted when Holloway wrote back to say, “These are as important as the letters from certain flag officers, probably more so.” Things would change under Holloway’s leadership of the navy, but Bud refused to be a “dead hand on the tiller.” Holloway’s vice chief, Admiral Harold E. Shear, put it this way: “What he [Zumwalt] did with regard to racism, to blacks, and to women and so forth was absolutely positive. All the other things he did were not good for the Navy. Something that Holloway and I had to do was quietly and firmly get the Navy back to battery. We never put out anything that said that we were getting the Navy back to battery, but we just slowly and calmly just took a round turn, just took a round turn. Squeezed the ratchet a little bit, and it became obvious in a matter of months that we were getting the Navy back where it ought to be. . . . It wasn’t any big publicity that, ‘By golly, we’re dropping Zumwalt, we’re changing things in a different way.’ ”67 Shear’s use of nautical phraseology as in “taking a round turn” refers to putting two loops of line over a bitt or bollard, thus restraining the ship at the other end of the line. In the figurative sense, Shear meant that he and Holloway were seeking to restrain unwarranted personal behavior with respect to uniforms, haircuts, and beards.
Well before his successor had been announced, preparations were under way for Bud’s change-of-command ceremony. Protocol dictated that the CNO inquire about the president’s availability, but the last person Bud wanted at a ceremony honoring his career was Richard Nixon. Fortunately for Bud, these sentiments were reciprocal. In a March 16 telephone conversation with Alexander Haig, Bud asked, “Is there any possibility that the President would be interested in coming to my Change of Command ceremony on 29 June?” Haig said he would ask but knew that the president was scheduled to speak at the Naval Academy commencement in June and doubted he would want to return so shortly afterward. If Nixon could not speak, Bud planned to invite Secretary of Defense Schlesinger to be his major speaker.
Change-of-command ceremonies are steeped in navy tradition. As naval aide to the CNO, Dave Woodbury had been assigned responsibility for planning and organizing the change of command. Unbeknownst to Dave, Mouza had already contacted Lieutenant Commander Ned Muffley, director of the Navy Band, with instructions that the music should include “The Sound of Music,” “Sunrise, Sunset,” “The Impossible Dream,” and “Moonlight and Roses.” Dave thought it sounded like a reincarnation of The Student Prince and that “The Sound of Music” had no place at the ceremony. He told Muffley that none of the four songs fit the occasion, and they could not be played. Before speaking with Muffley, Dave ran the whole thing by his boss, who approved his decision.
A few days before the ceremony, Mouza and Muffley were discussing the musical selections when she learned what Dave had done. Mouza was still wife of the current CNO, so she sent for Dave, who explained Navy tradition and that the music just did not fit the occasion. The conversation ended with Mouza saying that she would discuss it further with
Bud that evening. The next morning, Bud called Dave into his office to ask, “What’s wrong with ‘The Sound of Music’?” Dave asked him to hum a few bars, which Bud could not do. Instead, Bud said, “You know, I’ve been considered a maverick CNO throughout my tour. Why not go out that way?” Dave repeated the traditional rationale, emphasizing that “some of us weren’t retiring and, given a choice, I’d just as soon not want to be remembered as the Naval Aide who played ‘Sound of Music’ at the CNO’s change of command.” Dave then informed his boss that when James Holloway heard the music plan, he said he would not show up under those circumstances. After thinking about it for a few seconds, Bud proposed a compromise. “The Impossible Dream” would be played after the “Navy Hymn,” but only as the Zumwalts departed the dais. The other compromise was that, for this musical selection to be played, Bud would have to introduce it.68
It was already eleven a.m. on the morning of June 29, 1974, when Congressman Charlie Wilson and his wife, Jerry, arrived at Annapolis under rainy skies. Wilson recalled his own days as a plebe at Annapolis, but he had never seen so many admirals in one place. He overheard one officer saying, “When you have this kind of class guy, the ceremony is bound to be heavy.” The hundreds of seats in front of Bancroft Hall were full when the sun began peeking through the clouds. “White was the color of the day,” observed Jerry Wilson.69
As a congressman’s spouse, Jerry had attended her share of official events, but she sensed something different today. “The speeches were unlike any at a formal ceremony that I can remember. The genuine and deep feelings of these men for Admiral Zumwalt set the tone that flavored the day. Respect. Admiration. A very real loss for the United States Navy.” In his white suit with sword at his side, and with his well-known bushy eyebrows, Jerry thought that Bud looked like a movie admiral. Now under sunny skies at the steps of Bancroft Hall, the change-of-command ceremonies were about to begin.
Nixon’s order that Schlesinger not attend the ceremony put only a minor wrinkle in the plans. Vice President Gerald Ford had been invited by Bud to be the main speaker. Throughout his tenure as CNO, Bud had always enjoyed working with Ford, who had been open, straightforward, and thoughtful. A few days before the event, Ford thanked Bud for his many contributions to the security of the United States and the cause of world peace. Citing the “many sacrifices and the honorable manner” in which he had served his country, the vice president observed, “You are a great American, a great sailor, a true servant to your country. I know I speak for all the people of the United States when I say, ‘Well done.’ Smooth sailing and best wishes for continued success.”70 Bud was unaware that Ford had received a call from Al Haig relaying a message from the president that he should not attend the change of command. “I told Bud that I would speak at his change of command and I will do so,” replied the vice president.71
In his remarks, the vice president steered clear of any comments on people programs, choosing to state that “Admiral Zumwalt’s greatest accomplishment was the realization that the United States was facing an ever-increasing block obsolescence as far as ships were concerned. . . . As I look at the four years of Admiral Zumwalt’s outstanding career, I would say that his convincing of the civilian heads in the Department of Defense, his convincing of the several present, his convincing the Congress of the United States that something had to be done to get over block obsolescence, to initiate on a sizeable and substantial basis a new shipbuilding program, will be the hallmark of Admiral Zumwalt’s career. This program that he sold to the Congress, to his civilian superiors in the Defense Department, will be a lasting accomplishment as our country faces the threats and the problems that we encounter in seeking to maintain peace and strength throughout the world.”
With those words, the vice president turned to Bud Zumwalt and presented him, “on behalf of the President of the United States,” the Distinguished Service Medal, the very one that Nixon had instructed Schlesinger not to present. Technically speaking, Schlesinger, whose name was not on the program but who was sitting on stage, did not present the award. They were all safe! Schlesinger even chose to say a few words at the end of the ceremony. “Ford gave a very laudatory speech which I considered an act of some courage,” recalled Bud, “given his knowledge that the White House did not want me in any way to be praised.”
In Bud’s remarks, he reminisced about his career and teased the vice president about moving into Admiral’s House, the home all CNOs for the past fifty years had occupied. He had, of course, testified against it and warned Ford that “even the roof leaks.” (Ironically, Ford never moved in, as Nixon would soon resign and Ford’s vice president, Nelson Rockefeller, refused to live there.) Turning to more serious matters, Bud warned that “the consequences of conceding the world’s oceans to others are simply too serious to be allowed to continue. Our countrymen have never before turned away from their responsibilities, nor do I expect them to do so now.”72 The nation needed to redirect its course “on a heading toward regaining the undisputed supremacy at sea [on] which our national survival demands and which we have surrendered temporarily.”
He then read his discharge orders. “Admiral Holloway, the watch is yours. I pass on to you the absolute authority and responsibility of command.” The band played “Ruffles and Flourishes,” the cannons boomed a nineteen-gun salute, and Admiral Elmo Russell Zumwalt, Jr.’s personal flag was lowered for the last time. Breaking from tradition for a final time, he introduced his family, daughters Ann and Mouzetta and two sons, “the lawyer” and “the Marine.” Rear Admiral R. W. Elliot thought that recognizing his family “was most appropriate since it was representative of that which had been the hallmark of your career as Chief of Naval Operations, thoughtfulness for the people with whom you worked and for whom you were responsible.”73
As red roses were presented to Mouza, the U.S. Navy Band struck up “The Impossible Dream” in her honor. Bud joked with Vice President Ford, saying that the song was not intended for him. The Zumwalts headed off the dais to their waiting car, and the Holloways headed to the receiving line for the new CNO.
“The Change of Command at Annapolis was a thrilling affair,” wrote John Chafee. “I thought your departure was done with the usual Zumwalt flair.” Turning to Bud’s legacy, the man who hired him observed that “there has been no CNO in modern times who has made as deep an impression on the navy as you have. Your actions are going to help the Navy, not only in the Seventies but also in the balance of the century. In personnel policies as well as the imaginative development of new ships and weapons, your mark will be felt for years to come.”74
Bud Zumwalt was now a retired admiral. He had earned the navy’s highest accolade, “Well done.” In fact, that was the headline of the Salt Lake Tribune on June 29, 1974. Noting that the old brass would never understand the importance of what Zumwalt had tried to accomplish in his personnel policies, the opinion essay urged the continuation of those policies: “Failure would be detrimental to the service’s future.”75
In “A Farewell to Admiral and Mrs. Elmo R. Zumwalt, Jr.,” his staff provided the following career summary tribute:
SO LONG. IT’S BEEN GOOD TO KNOW YOU
You’re from San Francisco, that gem by the bay.
You were marked for distinction at the U.S.N.A.
In the far Leyte Gulf you entered the fray,
Where Halsey and Kinkaid carried the day.
Now it’s . . .
So Long. It’s been good to know you.
So Long. It’s been good to know you.
So Long. It’s been good to know you.
It’s a long time since you signed on,
And you’re gonna be moving along.
In command of ATAKA you sailed up the Yangtze.
With our flag at the masthead for the whole world to see.
It was there you met Mouza, your bride soon to be.
You’ve an eye for grace, beauty, and charm, we agree.
[Refrain]
You’v
e skippered the finest, ashore and at sea.
The Tills and the Isbell, and Dewey make three;
CRUDESFLOT Seven and COMNAVFOR V—
You’ve been all the things sailors set out to be.
[Refrain]
You became CNO in July Seventy,
With green stripes and grams that were signed with Z.
You pushed people programs and man’s dignity
And sought to restore zest to life on the sea.
[Refrain]
You’ve pursued new initiatives with great energy.
PF, and LAMPS, and ASMD;
Hydrofoils, HARPOON, and STOLS with a V.
With a single objective, control of the sea.
[Refrain]
Now, Mouza and Bud, you’ve a great family.
There’s Ann, there’s Mouzetta, and Elmo the three,
And Lieutenant Jim in the USMC.
He’s your contribution to projection from sea.
[Refrain]
It’s been exciting with ne’er a dull day—
With you on the E Ring, we’ve come a long way.
Now whate’er the future, be what it may,
We wish you smooth sailing as once more we say:
[Refrain]
So Long. It’s been good to know you.
So Long. It’s been good to know you.
For certain there was no singing or joy in Moscow. Neither Nixon nor Kissinger sent Bud a congratulatory message.76 Bud believed he was the first service chief in modern times to retire without a thank-you from the president. With impeachment proceedings impending, Bud had no doubt that the Soviets, keen observers of American politics, had hardened their line for negotiating with a president who was desperate to achieve a deal that he hoped might buttress his domestic support.