The Admirals
Page 51
Whereas Leahy was stern, reserved, and even dour, King was nothing short of bombastic. Throughout his career, King’s personality was routinely commented upon—and frequently feared—by his contemporaries and junior officers alike. His seniors usually found it merely annoying, although many—Forrestal was clearly an exception—tended to overlook his grating manner because there was no question that this demanding and strong-willed individual was also highly intelligent and capable of delivering results.
King simply had no tolerance for subordinates who failed to carry out his orders to his satisfaction. Considering that King’s satisfaction was a very high bar, many failed to clear it. “On the job,” wrote historian Robert Love in his history of the chiefs of naval operations, “[King] seemed always to be angry or annoyed.”22 But some of that anger or annoyance may well have been a mask that was best breached when one stood up to him or took the initiative in doing what King likely would have done had he been in the other’s shoes.
When Captain Arleigh Burke was transferred to the Atlantic after his tenure with Mitscher in the fast carriers, he was immediately charged with routing certain ships as soon as possible. Alone in the Washington headquarters late one night, Burke issued a series of orders in King’s name—as was custom but never done without King’s or another admiral’s approval. King called Burke into his office the next morning and proceeded to deliver a tongue-lashing about clearing such matters even though the exigency of the moment demanded action. Burke took the tirade without flinching, but as he was being dismissed, King almost winked at him and said quietly, “You did the right thing, son.”23
If Leahy remains the most overlooked of the four fleet admirals, King may be the most overlooked strategist of the Allied planning counsels. It was King who pushed an offensive global strategy on Marshall as early as March 1942, issued absolute orders to Nimitz to hold the Pacific sea-lanes to Hawaii and Australia at all costs, and resolved to stop the Japanese advance in the Solomons no matter how grim the navy’s toll became in the waters around Guadalcanal. And those who label King as a critic of Germany First need remember his early and continuing role in winning the Battle of the Atlantic against German U-boats and assembling the naval might to invade North Africa, Italy, and France. King articulated a global vision of victory, ran a two-ocean war, and finally reached the point in his career where he was able to delegate its execution to men like Nimitz and Halsey.
King frequently termed Nimitz a “fixer,” a term King ascribed to most officers with experience in the Bureau of Navigation. But Nimitz’s tenure at BuNav, as well as his own personality, gave him a broader view of leadership than King possessed. “Leadership,” said Nimitz, “consists of picking good men and helping them do their best for you. The attributes of loyalty, discipline and devotion to duty on the part of subordinates must be matched by patience, tolerance and understanding on the part of superiors.”24
In fact, Nimitz’s years at BuNav gave him the keen insight into personnel that became so important to putting the right man in the right command. He possessed a shrewd ability to evaluate people and bring out their best. And if he was occasionally slow to find fault, it was due to the virtues of patience and loyalty, not indifference or neglect. Nimitz was “inspiring in his brilliance,” recalled Roland Smoot, and “inspiring in his ability to let you feel that he has complete and utter confidence in you.”25
Nimitz, and to an even greater extent Halsey, personified the American war effort in the Pacific. While songs, poems, and scuttlebutt about MacArthur tended toward the derogatory, those same ranks cheered Nimitz and Halsey. Nimitz himself was fond of a poem by Captain William Gordon Beecher, Jr., written from the perspective of a lowly enlisted man. Each verse started with “Me and Halsey and Nimitz” before concluding,
We’re warnin’ them never
To start it again.
For we’ve got a country
With millions of men
Like Nimitz and Halsey and me.26
That Halsey enjoyed similar camaraderie with his men was evidenced by numerous comments and stories that circulated and made it seem as if “the old man” was half a step behind them all the way. Sometimes he was. Once, when two enlisted men were walking along a passageway shooting the breeze, one of them acknowledged, “I’d go to hell for that old son of a bitch.” The sailor felt a poke in his back and turned around to find Halsey playfully wagging a finger. “Not so old, young man.”27 Later, when Halsey dispatched a shore party to rescue starving prisoners of war on the eve of the surrender ceremony in Tokyo Bay, one navy enlisted man, who had endured a long captivity, exclaimed, “I knew it! I told these Jap bastards that Admiral Halsey would be here after us.”28
Yes, the fleet admirals were different, but each had an enduring sense of duty, mission, and love of country that had been honed years before on the banks of the Severn. Each of them first learned to be a follower. Then each unquestionably became a leader. All played pivotal roles in bringing the United States Navy to the pinnacle of naval power.
In 1953, after World War II was fought and won, a newspaper editor asked one of America’s fleet admirals to participate in a series of articles by celebrated people on the turning point in their careers. “Looking back,” the newsman queried, “what single act, incident, influence or encouragement set you in the direction of success instead of failure?”29
The seventy-eight-year-old admiral to whom this was addressed wrote in the first sentence of his reply that he was “unable to remember any acts, incidents or influence that were turning points in my naval career.” But then he went on for almost four double-spaced, typewritten pages to reminisce about his time at the United States Naval Academy and the importance of those years and the relationships he had formed there—almost sixty years before—to the man he became. “Those of us who departed from the United States Naval Academy,” Fleet Admiral William D. Leahy concluded, had acquired the requisite skills but, “without conscious effort,” had also acquired something more.30
“You will,” Leahy once told graduating midshipmen, “all have to a greater or lesser degree something else that is intangible… a combination of loyalty to ideals, tradition, courage, devotion, clean living, and clear thinking. It is more than ‘esprit de corps’ because it reaches far beyond the corps and comradeship.”31
Just as this intangible element defined the navy’s four fleet admirals, it characterizes all who pass through the gates of the United States Naval Academy and inexorably binds them to the navy, to one another, and to the steadfast service of their country.
Photos
Ernest J. King, Annapolis class of 1901. (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH50033)
Chester W. Nimitz, Annapolis class of 1905, with his proud grandfather, February 1905. (Courtesy of the National Museum of the Pacific War, Nimitz Education and Research Center, FPA 63, nerc_000246)
Nimitz as a young ensign, circa 1907, made it a point during his career “to become as deeply immersed and as interested in each activity as it was possible.” (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH49740)
William D. Leahy served as a temporary naval aide to President William Howard Taft during his visit to San Francisco in October 1911 but did not think “a permanent assignment to such duty could be either agreeable or valuable.” (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH49834)
Even after World War I, there were many admirals in the U.S. Navy who thought that a line of battleships was the solution to any crisis. (National Archives, 80-G-695093)
Captain King and his team raised the sunken S-4, March 1928. (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH784)
Vice Admiral Leahy on board his flagship, the battleship West Virginia (BB-48), in September 1935, when he was commander, Battleships, Battle Force, U.S. Fleet. (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH49862)
Rear Admiral King, newly appointed as commander, Aircraft, Base Force, arrives on board the carrier Lexington (CV-2) on June 2, 1936. His personal Curtiss SOC-1 Seagull was painted
a shiny “flag” blue. (National Archives, 80-G-457421)
Suits were the usual dress for high-ranking military officers serving in Washington, D.C., during the 1930s, as an ailing Secretary of the Navy Claude A. Swanson congratulates Leahy on becoming chief of Naval Operations, December 31, 1936; at left is outgoing CNO William H. Standley. (Courtesy of the Library of Congress, LC-H22-D-453)
On February 28, 1939, FDR met with flag officers on board the Houston (CA-30) off Culebra Island, Puerto Rico, at the conclusion of Fleet Problem XX. The contenders for Leahy’s CNO job were present, as were many to become prominent during World War II. Seated, left to right: Rear Admiral H. E. Kimmel, Rear Admiral A. E. Watson, Admiral W. D. Leahy, Roosevelt, Admiral C. C. Bloch, Vice Admiral J. W. Greenslade, Rear Admiral W. C. Watts, Rear Admiral A. W. Johnson; standing, left to right: Rear Admiral W. L. Calhoun, Rear Admiral W. H. Halsey, Rear Admiral G. J. Rowcliff, Rear Admiral H. R. Stark, Rear Admiral W. S. Anderson, Vice Admiral A. Andrews, Admiral E. C. Kalbus, Vice Admiral E. J. King, Rear Admiral F. A. Todd, Rear Admiral C. A. Blakely, Brigadier General R. P. Williams, Rear Admiral J. D. Wainwright, Rear Admiral W. S. Pye, Rear Admiral J. M. Smeallie, Rear Admiral C. S. Freeman. (Courtesy of the Library of Congress, William D. Leahy Papers, Box 16, FF CNO, August 1938 to February 1939)
Roosevelt and Churchill chat on board the HMS Prince of Wales at the Atlantic Charter Conference in August 1941, as U.S. Army Chief of Staff George C. Marshall looks on; King and Chief of Naval Operations Harold Stark stand behind them. (Courtesy of the George C. Marshall Foundation, Lexington, Virginia)
Vice Admiral Halsey, circa 1941, while he was serving as commander, Aircraft, Battle Force. (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH95552)
Admiral King found an influential benefactor in Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox, here together on the cruiser Augusta (CA-31) during the secretary’s September 1941 visit to Bermuda while King was commander in chief, Atlantic Fleet. (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH56978)
Admiral Nimitz (center), the old submariner, assumes command of the U.S. Pacific Fleet on board the submarine Grayling (SS-209) on December 31, 1941, at Pearl Harbor. (Courtesy of the National Museum of the Pacific War, Nimitz Education and Research Center, FPA 52, nerc_002519)
As a fleet oiler tags along, a TBD-1 torpedo plane has just taken off from the Yorktown (CV-5) somewhere in the Coral Sea, April 1942. This photograph was retouched to obscure the radar antennas atop the foremast for national security reasons. (National Archives, 80-G-640553)
A handful of American carriers made the difference in the Pacific during 1942, and some paid the price, such as the Lexington (CV-2), abandoned and sinking after the battle of the Coral Sea. (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH51382)
A TBM Avenger torpedo plane has just landed on the Enterprise (CV-6) while another flies overhead, as the carrier supports landings in the Gilbert Islands, November 22, 1943. (National Archives, 80-G-333207)
Through posters, photographs, and a steady stream of press reports trumpeting naval successes, Halsey’s became one of the most recognizable faces of the American war effort. (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH76342)
Late in the pivotal year of 1942, Nimitz inscribed his photograph, “11 Nov 42, Vice Admiral Frank Jack Fletcher, a fine fighting admiral and a splendid shipmate, with much affection, C. W. Nimitz.” (Frank Jack Fletcher Collection, Box 2, Folder 41, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming)
Polar opposites in personality and leadership styles, King (left) and Marshall nonetheless came to work together on behalf of the American war effort. They are pictured here before a meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, October 31, 1942. (Courtesy of the George C. Marshall Foundation, Lexington, Virginia)
A proud father shakes hands with Lieutenant Commander Chester W. Nimitz, Jr., who has just received the Silver Star for his performance as skipper of the submarine Haddo (SS-255). (Courtesy of the National Museum of the Pacific War, Nimitz Education and Research Center, FPA 48, nerc_002517)
The Joint Chiefs of Staff, minus Leahy, tour the beachhead at Normandy, June 12, 1944. Left to right, in the foreground: General Henry H. Arnold, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, General George C. Marshall, Lieutenant General Omar N. Bradley (pointing), and Admiral Ernest J. King. (Courtesy of the George C. Marshall Foundation, Lexington, Virginia)
The weekly luncheons of the Joint Chiefs of Staff fostered an air of civility and camaraderie for Arnold and Leahy (left) and King and Marshall. Note Leahy’s ashtray and the buzzer, to summon staff, at Marshall’s side. (National Archives, 80-G-K-14010)
Nimitz, King, and Halsey stand outside Nimitz’s CINCPAC headquarters at Pearl Harbor on September 28, 1943. Nimitz and Halsey are in traditional khakis. King was a uniform “tinkerer” who introduced a much-despised gray uniform with plain cap. Some said it made him look like a bus driver. Others simply mistook him for a petty officer, as did the reporter who once brushed him aside with a curt “Get out of the way, chief. I want to get a picture of Admiral Nimitz.“ (Courtesy of the National Museum of the Pacific War, Nimitz Education and Research Center, FPA 37, nerc_000388)
Leahy was conspicuous by his absence from the Casablanca Conference, January 1943, only in retrospect. He was sidelined by bronchitis in Trinidad and not yet indispensable. Seated (left to right): Marshall, Roosevelt, King; standing (left to right): Harry Hopkins, General Henry H. Arnold, Lieutenant General Brehon Somervell, and Averell Harriman. (Courtesy of the George C. Marshall Foundation, Lexington, Virginia)
Seated (left to right): Stalin, Roosevelt, and Churchill at the Teheran Conference in November 1943. Leahy stands behind Churchill, while King is hidden two hats behind Stalin. Contrast the faces of the three world leaders here with their photograph at Yalta fifteen months later. (Courtesy of the Library of Congress, LC-USZ62-91957)
Roosevelt, Churchill, and the Combined Chiefs of Staff at the Second Quebec Conference in September 1944. Seated (left to right): Marshall, Leahy, Roosevelt, Churchill, Field Marshal Sir Alan Brooke, and Field Marshal Sir John Dill; standing (left to right): Brigadier Leslie Hollis, Lieutenant General Sir Hastings Ismay, King, Air Chief Marshal Sir Charles Portal, Arnold, and Admiral Sir Andrew Cunningham. (Courtesy of the George C. Marshall Foundation, Lexington, Virginia)
Churchill, Roosevelt, and Stalin at Yalta, February 1945. Leahy stands immediately behind Roosevelt with Marshall behind him. King and Field Marshal Brooke are on the step to the left. (National Archives, 111-SC-260486)
Halsey’s flagship, the battleship New Jersey (BB-62), plows through a wave on November 8, 1944, after Leyte Gulf but six weeks before the big typhoon. The carrier Intrepid (CV11) steams in the distance. (National Archives, 80-G-291047)
Halsey shares a belated Thanksgiving dinner with his crew on his Third Fleet flagship, November 30, 1944. (National Archives, 80-G-291498)
Halsey on his flag bridge on the New Jersey shortly before the December typhoon. (National Archives, 80-G-471108)
Whether it was pitching horseshoes with enlisted men or shooting a pistol on the firing range, Nimitz made a habit of taking a moment or two to relax. (Courtesy of the National Museum of the Pacific War, Nimitz Education and Research Center, FPA 13, nerc_000355)
King in the COMINCH conference room, showing his usual command presence. (National Archives, 80-G-416886)
But, yes, he could laugh. King at a reunion of his Annapolis class in 1944. (National Archives, 80-G-45387)
General Douglas MacArthur in his leather jacket with Roosevelt and Nimitz on the deck of the cruiser Baltimore (CA-68) at Pearl Harbor, July 26, 1944. Leahy (second from left), another naval officer, and the president’s Secret Service men stand in the background. (National Archives, 80-G-241479)
Vice Admiral John S. “Slew” McCain (left) confers with Halsey in Halsey’s cabin on the New Jersey (BB-62). The big question: was this just before or after the December typhoon? (National Archives, 80-G-470859)
Leahy stands behind Harry S. Truman as Truman takes the oath
of office upon Roosevelt’s death, April 12, 1945. (National Park Service, Abbie Rowe, Courtesy of Harry S. Truman Library)
Chief of Naval Operations Nimitz, presidential Chief of Staff Leahy, President Truman, and Admiral Marc Mitscher on the bridge of Mitscher’s flagship, the carrier Franklin D. Roosevelt (CV-42), April 22 or 23, 1946. Truman was not above tweaking his chief of staff for his dour manner. On the back of Leahy’s copy of this photograph, Truman scrawled, “Admiral: You do not seem to approve! HST.” (U.S. Navy, courtesy of the Harry S. Truman Library)