by H. W. Brands
“No, sir. This was the recommendation, the study made by the Joint Chiefs of Staff which was submitted to the secretary of defense. A copy of it was furnished to me.”
“But it was furnished to you as a recommendation to the secretary of defense and you, of course, awaited a decision from that source before proceeding along—”
“A decision putting this into effect never arrived.”
“Did you get any instructions it was not to be put into effect?”
“No, sir.”
Russell was puzzled. “So if that was a recommendation of the joint chiefs, it encountered a veto somewhere along the line, either from the secretary of defense or the commander in chief, the president of the United States.”
“I would assume so, sir.”
“Did the joint chiefs ever advise you formally or informally as to what happened to their recommendations?”
“No, sir.”
“You did not discuss it with them on subsequent visits to your command?”
“I discussed, every time any of them ever came out there, I discussed all these subjects.”
“And they did not tell you what had happened to their recommendations?”
“Nothing. I have no knowledge of what happened to this study after it reached the secretary of defense.”
—
RUSSELL OFFERED TO relinquish the questioning to Tom Connally, but the Texas senator deferred. MacArthur took the pause that ensued to offer a recommendation to the members of the committee. “If you can get three or four days off, go over to Korea,” he said. “You will learn more in forty-eight hours in that atmosphere than you will learn in forty-eight weeks at this distance. They would give you the heartiest of welcome, and you would have an indelible impression.”
Russell was not going to be told his business. “I do not want to go to Korea right now, General, because I am trying to be objective in this matter, and I know that any man that gets over there with troops and under fire would immediately go to shouting for airplanes, more troops, blockade the coast, bomb the Chinese. Because when a man is under fire in the Pacific area, that is the most important thing in the world.”
Russell turned the discussion in a new direction. “General, did your intelligence have any previous knowledge of the fact that the Chinese were crossing the boundaries in any considerable force, prior to the attack and our reversal in North Korea, last December?”
MacArthur was expecting the question. “We had knowledge that the Chinese Communists had collected large forces along the Yalu River,” he said. “My own reconnaissance, you understand, was limited entirely to Korea; but the general information, which was available from China and other places, indicated large accumulations of troops. The Red Chinese, at that time, were putting out, almost daily, statements that they were not intervening, that these were volunteers only. About the middle of September our secretary of state announced that he thought there was little chance, and no logic, in Chinese intervention. In November our Central Intelligence Agency here had said that they felt there was little chance of any major intervention on the part of the Chinese forces. Now, we ourselves on the front realized that the North Korean forces were being stiffened, and our intelligence, made just before General Walker launched his attacks, indicated they thought from 40,000 to 60,000 men might be down there. Now you must understand that the intelligence that a nation is going to launch war is not an intelligence that is available to a commander limited to a small area of combat. That intelligence should have been given to me.”
“So,” Russell asked, “the disposition of the forces in the field, then, were based upon the assumption that there would be no intervention by a considerable number of Chinese?”
“No, sir. You are not correct in that statement.”
“I asked a question. I did not make a statement.”
“The disposition of the forces was made upon the basis of the enemy that existed, and the orders that I had to defeat them,” MacArthur said. “That enemy was the North Korean group, and our forces had practically destroyed them. We would have completely destroyed them if the Chinese had not intervened.” The disposition of his forces was dictated by his mission—to liberate and pacify North Korea—and by the comparatively small size of his force. And yet, that disposition proved optimal for dealing with the Chinese. “The disposition of those troops, in my opinion, could not have been improved upon had I known the Chinese were going to attack.”
In response to the questioning looks of the committee members, MacArthur continued, “The difficulty that arose was not the disposition of the troops, but the overwhelming number of the enemy forces and the extraordinary limitations that were placed upon me in the use of my air.” The latter restriction was the most harmful. “Had I been permitted to use my air, when those Chinese forces came in there, I haven’t the faintest doubt we would have thrown them back.” MacArthur said his air officers shared this opinion. His inability to use his airpower against the Chinese was fatal. “Thousands and hundreds of thousands of troops were permitted to concentrate on the Yalu at that time, only two nights’ march down to the front lines.”
Russell wanted clarification. “Of course, I do not know anything about the military part of it,” he said. “But it does not seem to me that we would have bombed them before they came in. That is the thing I did not understand about it.”
“What is that, Senator?”
“You said if you had been permitted to bomb them before they crossed the Yalu, but the Chinese army—”
“If I had been permitted to bomb them before they crossed the Yalu, Senator, they never would have crossed.”
“I can understand that.”
“Correct. If I had been permitted to bomb back of their bases, when they crossed the Yalu they would have been—their logistical supply would have been cut off so rapidly that they would not have been able to advance with any degree of force or strength against the Eighth Army.”
“I see. Of course, I can see the handicap you were under in not bombing them before they crossed. But it would have been a rather dangerous thing to have bombed them before they crossed.”
“As soon as we realized that the Chinese were moving across the Yalu in force as a national—as national entities—I ordered the bridges across the Yalu bombed from the Korean side, halfway to the stream. That order was countermanded from Washington, and it was only when I protested violently that I was allowed to continue my original directive.”
Russell returned to what MacArthur had said a few moments before about troop disposition. “Did I understand you correctly, General, when you said you, had you known the Red Chinese were coming in in great force, that you would have had exactly the same disposition of troops that you did have?”
MacArthur was glad for the chance to elaborate, to rebut the impression that the Chinese had caught him off guard. “I don’t see how I could have done anything else, Senator,” he said. “You understand, it was a calculated risk from the day we entered in Korea on June 27. The calculated risk was whether China or the Soviet would intervene. In the face of that risk, which I had nothing to do with, you understand, I was ordered with these forces I had to clear North Korea. I understood the dangers every day as nobody else, perhaps, understood them, but I had my directives, and I was implementing, to the best of my ability.” He understood the dangers and yet he went ahead. He had no choice. “There was no other way, when we had to clear the Pyongyang-Wonsan line, to clear North Korea, but to go north.” He nonetheless was ready for what might happen. “When we moved forward I had already prepared and the troops had in their hands the order for retreat if we found the enemy in force. What we did was really a reconnaissance in force. It was the only way we had to find out what the enemy had and what his intentions were. When we moved forward we struck him in tremendous force—or he struck us—and we withdrew.” They withdrew in good fashion. “The concept that our forces withdrew in disorder or were badly defeated is one of the most violent p
revarications of truth that ever was made. Those forces withdrew in magnificent order and shape.” MacArthur repeated for emphasis: “It was a planned withdrawal from the beginning.”
Russell thanked MacArthur for this explanation. He offered the general an opportunity to clarify something else. “Well, now, going back to the concentration on the other side of the Yalu—of course, you would not have advised that they be bombed until they had disclosed their hand, that they were coming into the war and thereby precipitate a contest between Red China and ourselves, would you, General?”
“Senator, you ask me what I would do. I will tell you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When that formation of troops, that extraordinary groupment of troops—those are the troops that threatened Formosa. When they were withdrawn up there, I would have warned China that if they intervened, we would have regarded it as war and we would have bombed her and taken every possible step to prevent it. That is what I would have done, and it seems to me that is what common sense would have dictated should have been done.”
“Do you know whether or not any such warning was given to the Red Chinese?”
“None that I know of.”
Russell wanted to hear more about the Chinese Nationalist troops.
MacArthur went back to the first days of the war. “When I received the orders that I was to prevent, with the Seventh Fleet and my air, any invasion of Formosa, and reciprocally prevent the Nationalist Chinese troops from leaving Formosa to attack the mainland, there was a concentration of Red Chinese troops on the mainland which threatened Formosa seriously. Those troops were the Fourth and the Third Field Armies which afterward showed up in North Korea.”
Russell interrupted. “In other words, you think the inhibition imposed on the Nationalists by the president, of the Seventh Fleet, and the order to prevent any movement either way in between Formosa and China was responsible for unleashing, or at least making available, these Third and Fourth Armies.”
“No, Senator, I didn’t say any such thing. If you will let me finish—”
“Pardon me, General, I thought you had completed—”
“I said that these troops down there threatened Formosa at that time. At that time, Formosa—it was necessary for the Generalissimo’s troops to be held in Formosa for its defense. As these troops were moved north and the threat to Formosa disappeared, it became quite evident there was no necessity to keep the Generalissimo’s troops tied up on Formosa. As soon as it became known these troops had been moved up north and were attacking me—the Third and Fourth Field Armies—I recommended to Washington that the wraps be taken off the Generalissimo, that he be furnished such logistical support as would put those troops in fighting trim, and that he be permitted to use his own judgment as to their use. The slightest use that was made of those troops would have taken the pressure off my troops. It would have saved me thousands of lives up there—even a threat of that. We were at that time with the Seventh Fleet supporting my fighting line and doing everything else in Korea that was possible, bombarding and everything else; at the same time with the other hand they were holding back these troops which, if they had been used, or even threatened to be used, would have taken the pressure off my front. It was at that time that I made the recommendation that the Generalissimo’s troops be brought into play against the common enemy.”
“Did you get any reply to that request, or was it vetoed?”
“I don’t think I received any reply, as far as I know.”
“There was never any expression of approval or disapproval from the Defense Establishment, even though your forces were under terrific pressure?”
“As far as I recall there was nothing, no reply. I certainly didn’t receive any affirmative reply. It was after that, or about the same time, that the Joint Chiefs of Staff made this similar, made exactly the same recommendation, on January 12.”
—
RICHARD RUSSELL HAD been content to ask about military strategy; Styles Bridges wanted to talk about the politics of the general’s firing. “General, you questioned the right of the President of the United States to dismiss you?” the New Hampshire Republican asked. “Did you or do you now?”
“You mean, to recall me?”
“Yes.”
“Not in the slightest,” MacArthur said. “The authority of the president to assign officers or to reassign them is complete and absolute. He does not have to give any reasons therefor or anything else. That is inherent in our system.”
“How did you first receive word of your recall?” Bridges queried.
“I received it from my wife. One of my aides had heard the broadcast and instantly told her, and she informed me.”
“You received it via the radio before you had any official notice?” Bridges obviously disapproved of such cavalier treatment of a hero.
“Yes, sir,” MacArthur said.
When had he received the official notice?
“Oh, I should say within thirty minutes, perhaps, or an hour. I couldn’t tell you.”
“Were you recalled with the action to take effect summarily, immediately?”
“The order relieved me of the command upon receipt.”
“Is that a customary procedure?”
“I have never known it in the American Army, and I know of no precedents in any place,” MacArthur said. “Being summarily relieved in that way made it impossible to carry out directives that I was working on at that moment. I had to turn them over to my successor, an admirable officer in every respect, General Ridgway, who was 350 miles away on the Korean front.”
“General, when you—”
“I don’t think there is any question that the interest of the United States was jeopardized in such a summary mode of turning over great responsibilities which involve the security of the country.”
Bridges asked MacArthur about his respect for the chain of command. “Have you ever, to your knowledge, refused to carry out a military order given you?”
“Senator, I have been a soldier fifty-two years,” MacArthur replied. “I have in that time, to the best of my ability, carried out every order that was ever given me. No more subordinate soldier has ever worn the American uniform. I would repudiate any concept that I wouldn’t carry out any order that was given me. If you mean to say that the orders I have carried out I was in agreement with, that is a different matter. Many of the orders that I have received, I have disagreed with them, both their wisdom and their judgment. But that did not affect in the slightest degree my implementing them to the very best and maximum of my ability. Any insinuation by anyone, however high his office, that I have ever in any way failed, to the level of my ability, to carry out my instructions, is completely unworthy and unwarranted.”
Bridges, nodding satisfaction, jumped back in time to the Wake Island conference. He invited MacArthur to impeach the veracity of the conference transcript the administration had just released. “Was there a stenographic report made of that conference?” he asked.
“There was no official stenographic report,” MacArthur replied. “I asked Mr. Ross, who was in charge of public relations, whether there should be stenographic notes taken, because I wished to take them myself, but he told me that no notes would be taken, and there was no stenographer present. I have heard within the last forty-eight hours that apparently a stenographer in an adjacent room took down some notes, but I have no knowledge of it.”
Bridges suggested a conspiracy, a trap. “And you were not aware that a stenographer was secreted in another room?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“When the conference was held in the room, were the voices normal voices, or were you engaged in discussion that reached a high level, a high pitch at the time?”
“No, sir. I think it was a small table and a dozen men were around it—the ordinary conversational tone of voice. There would have to have been a lot of eavesdropping to get any report by anyone that wasn’t in that room.”
Richard Russell
cut into the questioning. Omar Bradley’s office had made public that it had delivered to MacArthur copies—five, to be exact—of the Wake Island transcript. Russell asked MacArthur if he had received them.
MacArthur’s tone lost some of its assurance. He acknowledged that he had gotten something from Bradley’s office. “I don’t know whether there were five copies….If I remember correctly, I filed the copies; I didn’t even check them.”
“I beg pardon?” Russell asked.
“I said I did not read the copies—the copy that was sent to me. I merely put it in the file. I have no idea whether it was authentic or whether it represented it or not. By that time, Senator, that incident was about as dead as the dodo bird. They had no bearing on what was taking place in Korea then.”
Russell was skeptical. “General Bradley’s letter, as I recall, stated that it was forwarded to you in October 1950, and was receipted for by some member of your staff a few days later, well within October,” he said.
Democrat John Sparkman of Alabama supplied the date: “October 27th.”
“October 27th,” Russell continued. “Do you remember whether or not those documents that General Bradley forwarded were received?”
“It could have been in October,” MacArthur granted. “I have no doubt they are the documents that are referred to.”
Russell stated for the record that he himself had recently sent MacArthur a copy of the transcript, as released by the administration. “I hope you received that,” he said.
“Thank you very much, Senator. I got the copy just as I was stepping into the plane, so have not had a chance to read it.”
So he didn’t know whether the transcript was accurate?
“I don’t know, sir. I had no stenographic notes myself, and I have explained the circumstances under which they were composed.”
“So you are not in position to state whether or not there are inaccuracies in that report or whether it is a reasonably accurate statement of what transpired on Wake Island?”
“No, sir. I have no way of telling you that. I have no doubt that in general they are an accurate report of what took place.”