As much as we wanted to make light of the situation, however, we knew it was deadly serious. The President's natural response was to be brave and defiant in the face of would-be a.s.sa.s.sins.53 But it never left my mind that twice in a matter of weeks, two deranged individuals got close enough to President Ford to kill him. But it never left my mind that twice in a matter of weeks, two deranged individuals got close enough to President Ford to kill him.54 In October 1975, I was with the President in Connecticut when yet another incident occurred. As the presidential motorcade moved through Hartford en route to the airport, the local police department failed to block one of the intersections at the base of a hill. When the President's car was crossing that intersection, a car with four teenagers rammed into the side of the presidential limousine. Those of us seated in the backseat-the President, our host, and me-were thrown to the floor.

Taking no chances, the Secret Service followed their normal procedure and had the motorcade start up fast to get the President out of possible further danger. As we sped away, the lead car in the motorcade had to stop suddenly to avoid a pedestrian. Our limousine slammed into the rear of the lead car, again jostling us around in the backseat. Then, as we stopped suddenly, the Secret Service car behind us, which had been racing to keep up, slammed into the back of our car. We were thrown around in the backseat for the third time.

While no one was seriously injured, the near comic chain reaction seemed to be a metaphor for an administration whose troubles were piling up. Coming off the midterm elections, which were bad for Republicans, we had every reason to believe that 1976 was going to be another tough election year. There were even some suggestions in the press that the GOP was an endangered species on a trajectory of perpetual decline.55 The administration was not performing up to its potential. I felt an urgent need to get it on a better track. The administration was not performing up to its potential. I felt an urgent need to get it on a better track.

CHAPTER 13

An Agonizing Reappraisal.

On October 22, 1975, d.i.c.k Cheney and I met with the President in his study, just outside the Oval Office. We discussed some possible scenarios for the 1976 campaign if, as expected, Governor Ronald Reagan were to challenge Ford in the Republican primaries. There was also discussion of the unpleasant possibility that Ford might lose the nomination, which gave him another chance to decide if a nasty primary contest was really something he was up for.

"Look, I'm running," Ford said with a strength and decisiveness that pleased me. "It will be a tough race, but I'm not going to pull a Johnson [and bow out]. It will be b.l.o.o.d.y right down to the last gong if Reagan runs."1 I had raised the troublesome issues I saw with him many times: a poorly coordinated speech shop; an unmanageable vice president; a marginalized secretary of defense leading to an unbalanced NSC; press leaks; and the like. He knew that I thought his White House needed significant changes if he were to have a successful presidency, fend off the Reagan challenge, and win in the general election.

Apparently change was on the President's mind as well-but instead of the administrative fixes I had been proposing for months, he was thinking of personnel changes.

"You know, there are funny things you think of just before you go to sleep," he said. He told us he had gotten so angry at Secretary of Defense Jim Schlesinger over a recent dustup Schlesinger had had with a senior Democratic congressman who was a close friend of Ford's that he told Cheney and me that he was considering replacing Schlesinger with Rockefeller and naming George H. W. Bush as his vice president. I had listened to President Nixon muse on various occasions about possible cabinet shake-ups during his administration. These generally proved to be simply ideas tossed out to see how others would react. And indeed, as Ford talked, he sounded like he was thinking more about after the election, if he won his own term.2 What Ford did not know at the time was that I was planning one last-ditch effort to convey my sense of urgency to him. What Ford did not know at the time was that I was planning one last-ditch effort to convey my sense of urgency to him.

In Ford administration lore, the events that soon followed became known as the Halloween Ma.s.sacre. According to some press accounts, I played a driving role, arranging for the President to dispatch all of my enemies in one swoop so that I could be vice president. The ma.s.sacre mythology, in fact, became one of the building blocks of my image in some quarters as a master behind-the-scenes operator. The facts of those next few days tell a far different and less tidy human story.

Since the day I arrived as chief of staff, I had been planning to leave the White House by 1975. The President and I had originally discussed my staying for six months. It had now been a year. After almost two decades in government service, I was ready to leave and find a way to pay for college tuitions for our children. I began to talk to a few close friends back home in Chicago about what I might do in the private sector when I left the administration. At the same time, I cared about President Ford and wanted him to succeed.

Over the course of several weeks, I prepared a memorandum for the President that became a lengthy and somewhat repet.i.tious collection of the same advice and recommendations I had been making since the day he took office. I took Cheney into my confidence and asked him to look at it. He not only agreed with the sentiments, but added his own touches, and said he would like to sign on to it as well. The memo grew to be almost thirty pages long, and I thought hard about whether and when to give it to the President. One of the rules I developed as a chief of staff was, "Don't accept the post or stay unless you have an understanding with the President that you are free to tell him what you think 'with the bark off' and you have the relationship and the courage to do it." I ultimately decided that I owed it to Gerald Ford to follow my own rule.

I tried to prepare Ford for what was coming. On the evening of Thursday, October 23, when Cheney and I met with him, the President had a cold and seemed discouraged. I gave him a draft of our memo to review, so he could prepare to discuss it, since it was long. Because of the sensitive nature of the doc.u.ment, I asked him to read it and give it back to me personally the next morning, so there wouldn't be a copy in the White House staffing system.

As Ford thumbed through it, I explained to him that the concerns expressed in the memo were not just Cheney's and mine-many on the White House staff had problems with the way the system was working. On the one hand, we all thought highly of President Ford personally. We believed it was important for the country that he win the election. However, we were worried that the administration was not working as it should be, and that that might make his reelection impossible.

Parts of the administration were moving in different directions and at different speeds. The White House gears were grinding against each other, causing unnecessary friction in interpersonal relationships. This was not the fault of the individuals involved. I told Ford squarely that I believed it was the result of the way he had organized the White House.3 "This is not very encouraging," Ford said.

"Well, h.e.l.l, it's not," I replied. "But it's solvable."

With that, d.i.c.k and I took our departure.4 The President gave the draft memo back to me the next morning, a Friday. He told me he wanted to see Cheney and me Sat.u.r.day morning, and then Kissinger and me later the same afternoon. He added that what he had in mind for that meeting would require that I get along very well with Kissinger.5 Later that evening, I told Ford that after our morning meeting he might not want to go ahead with whatever he was planning, since I was considering leaving the administration. Ford didn't yet know that Cheney and I had decided we would attach letters of resignation to the finished memo.6 We wanted the President to know that we couldn't serve him properly under the current circ.u.mstances. We wanted the President to know that we couldn't serve him properly under the current circ.u.mstances.

Sat.u.r.day, October 25, was a beautiful Indian summer day. Cheney and I went into the Oval Office shortly after eleven to review our completed memo with the President. We had pulled together a list of eight major issues we believed put Ford's administration and reelection in jeopardy, including the President's reputation as a nice person but an ineffective chief executive, administrative disorder in the White House, and a lack of clear priorities.

I set out specific suggestions to improve the running of staff meetings, the calendar, and scheduling-all issues that had caused the President headaches for the past year but which he had been reluctant to allow me to fix. Among other things, our memo outlined: possible scenarios for the upcoming presidential primary campaign and fundamental problems in the administration; problems with the workings of the National Security Council; and the need for better coordination with the speech shop and with the Vice President.

Because we wanted to underscore the seriousness of the memorandum and its recommendations, we included the following: With that background, and because of our deep sense of these problems, the only way to conclusively make the case and demonstrate the importance we attach to the kinds of changes recommended, is to a.s.sure that there will be absolutely absolutely no question in your mind that anything said below would affect us in any way or be to our advantage.... no question in your mind that anything said below would affect us in any way or be to our advantage....Therefore, our resignations are attached.

There was nothing in the memo I had not said to the President a number of times before-and of course, he had seen an earlier draft on Thursday evening. But the weight of all of it together in a single memo, along with our resignations, got his attention. Ford did break into a broad smile as he read the P.S. I had attached at the end: "If you can take this load and still smile, you are indeed a President."7 Ford handed the memo back to me and told us that he had to think about it. He went on to discuss normal administrative issues, as if this was any other morning meeting.8 Cheney and I left the Oval Office not knowing what would happen next. Cheney and I left the Oval Office not knowing what would happen next.

A few hours later I went back in to meet with the President and Kissinger, as scheduled. Ford seemed relaxed and confident. We sat on the couches, he in his chair in front of the fireplace. After a few pleasantries, the President calmly announced he had decided to make some major personnel changes. He informed us he had decided to replace Bill Colby as CIA director with George H. W. Bush, whom he would bring back from China, where he was serving as the U.S. emissary. He planned to nominate Elliot Richardson to be secretary of commerce, to replace the ailing Rogers Morton. Then he told Kissinger that he would be surrendering his role as national security adviser but remain secretary of state. The President added that he would be asking d.i.c.k Cheney to be the new White House chief of staff. Then he looked at me. "Don," he said, "I want you to replace Jim Schlesinger as secretary of defense."

After reciting this list of major moves, Ford stopped and looked at us to gauge our reactions. There was a long pause. I don't recall that Henry or I had a word to say, which was something of a first for both of us. "In truth," Kissinger later wrote, "there was not much to say, since the President did not invite any discussion."* But within a few minutes, Kissinger found his voice. He expressed his concern that removing him as national security adviser could diminish his authority in international relations. He thought he would no longer be seen as a White House insider close to the President, and that it could look like he was being demoted. He made an impa.s.sioned plea that his deputy, Brent Scowcroft, be the one to replace him on the NSC to avoid that appearance. But within a few minutes, Kissinger found his voice. He expressed his concern that removing him as national security adviser could diminish his authority in international relations. He thought he would no longer be seen as a White House insider close to the President, and that it could look like he was being demoted. He made an impa.s.sioned plea that his deputy, Brent Scowcroft, be the one to replace him on the NSC to avoid that appearance.

The President looked at me. "What's your reaction?" he asked.

I was taken aback. The memo I had given him earlier contained numerous examples of how he might improve things in the White House for the better. However, while I had argued for fashioning a Ford team early in his presidency, such a dramatic shuffling of his cabinet this late was not among my recent suggestions. Still, I did not doubt that the memo Cheney and I had presented to him may have played a role in getting Ford to move-albeit in the President's own direction. "That's a pretty big load," I said. "I want to think about it."

After talking it over with Joyce, I went to the President the following day and told him I did not think I should go to the Defense Department. I said the time to have made major changes in his cabinet had been soon after he had taken office. Now he was within a year of the upcoming 1976 presidential election, and a Democratic-controlled Senate would need to confirm his nominees. The dramatic changes could smack of desperation. I also cautioned against removing Schlesinger. I told the President I thought that Schlesinger was a darn good secretary of defense and that I didn't know of a national security issue about which I disagreed with him. Were I at the Defense Department, I told him, I would likely be advocating policies similar to those Schlesinger had been pressing.

Ford pointed out that Schlesinger and Kissinger did not get along, and he believed that Kissinger and I would have a more collegial relationship. I said that if I were in the Pentagon, I would have no problem agreeing or disagreeing with Kissinger and having the President resolve any differences. I said that if I were in the Pentagon, I would have no problem agreeing or disagreeing with Kissinger and having the President resolve any differences.

I reminded Ford that he and Kissinger had not sufficiently included Schlesinger in the interagency process. I told him that whoever might go to Defense would need to have an opportunity to give the President the Defense Department's views and recommendations. I was also concerned that Brent Scowcroft might not be an independent national security adviser because he had worked so closely with Henry. But Kissinger was suggesting he might resign if Scowcroft did not replace him in that role.11 Ford's a.s.surances did not convince me I should accept the nomination. If I decided to stay in government, I was ready to have a substantive, policy-oriented position, as opposed to a staff post in the White House. On the other hand, I knew the decision to replace Schlesinger would likely be portrayed in the press as a palace coup and that could be damaging to both the President and me. But Ford was not taking no for an answer. He clearly intended to take charge of his administration.

Before deciding, I spoke to Kissinger and expressed concern that if I went to the Department of Defense, it might prove difficult for him. Kissinger had made a habit of reflexively blaming the Pentagon for leaks adverse to him and the State Department. I told him that I probably couldn't control leaks any better than Schlesinger, and that I was concerned he would go haywire on every leak he saw in the press. "You see a couple of those and you will flip out and the President will be misserved," I said. "It strikes me that the only person you could have over there would be a perfectly submissive person.... I have never learned to kiss fannies very well, and I don't intend to start now." Kissinger a.s.sured me that that would not be the case, and that he thought we could work together well.12 I asked Ford's permission to discuss the issue with Cold War strategist Paul Nitze. When I was amba.s.sador to NATO, Nitze had come to Brussels periodically to brief the North Atlantic Council on the strategic arms negotiations with the Soviet Union and would stay at our guest house. I came to think of him as a man of many dimensions, immense talent, and long experience.* There were few who understood the Cold War and the dangers posed by the Soviet Union better. Coincidentally, as I later learned, Nitze had been the one person who James Forrestal, the first secretary of defense, consulted before agreeing to leave Franklin Roosevelt's White House to serve as secretary of the Navy (a post Nitze would later fill). There were few who understood the Cold War and the dangers posed by the Soviet Union better. Coincidentally, as I later learned, Nitze had been the one person who James Forrestal, the first secretary of defense, consulted before agreeing to leave Franklin Roosevelt's White House to serve as secretary of the Navy (a post Nitze would later fill).

When I told him about Ford's proposal, Nitze, a friend of Schlesinger's, told me I had no choice but to accept. In his view, it was not a difficult question. The President had to have a secretary of defense who could do the job. Second, that person had to be confirmable by the U.S. Senate, and third, it had to be someone with whom the President could work with comfortably. Nitze told me I had to accept, since I was the only one who met those three key criteria.

On November 2, a Sunday, President Ford left for Florida for meetings with President Anwar Sadat of Egypt. At my request, Cheney went with him. Someone had leaked the story of Kissinger losing his NSC hat, and we were told it would be published the following Monday in Newsweek Newsweek.14 Ford was concerned he would lose control of the announcements, and his decisions would come out piecemeal instead of as an overall plan. Aboard Air Force One, Ford asked Cheney to find a way to get me to agree to take the job at Defense. Cheney said he would try. Ford was concerned he would lose control of the announcements, and his decisions would come out piecemeal instead of as an overall plan. Aboard Air Force One, Ford asked Cheney to find a way to get me to agree to take the job at Defense. Cheney said he would try.

That Sunday afternoon I took our son, Nick, to the Washington Redskins' football game. It was a chance to be with him and to be away from the phone.

After the game, Nick and I went out to our car, and I found that I had lost my keys. A couple was pulling out of the parking lot, and I asked them if they could give us a ride into Washington. I could see the woman whisper a m.u.f.fled no to her husband, but he asked where we were going. I told him we were heading up to Pennsylvania Avenue. He said that was the way they were going, and we could get in.

As we approached the White House, he asked where we wanted to be dropped off. I said, "Pull in here," and he realized he had just pulled up to the White House West Wing entrance. The couple had no idea who I was or that I worked for the President.

I asked them if they had ever been inside the White House. When they said no, I asked if they would like to come in. The guard waved us through, and the man parked out front. I took them into the West Wing and gave them a tour of the Oval Office, the Cabinet Room, the Roosevelt Room, and my office, thanked them for the ride, and escorted them out. As they left, I wondered what sort of conversation they had on the way home. I can almost hear the husband saying to his wife, "And you wanted to say no!"

I was told that Cheney was trying to get in touch with me on the phone. He told me Ford needed my answer before the Newsweek Newsweek story appeared the next morning. Realizing that my limited time was over, I remembered Nitze's admonition and finally agreed to take the job. story appeared the next morning. Realizing that my limited time was over, I remembered Nitze's admonition and finally agreed to take the job.

Before he left for Florida, the President had met with CIA director Colby and Schlesinger about their leaving the administration. I imagined neither meeting was enjoyable for any of them, but I was impressed with the forthright, take-charge Gerald Ford I was now witnessing. He met with them himself, rather than asking someone else to do it. I found that cla.s.sy.

The circ.u.mstances surrounding George H. W. Bush's nomination to be director of the CIA is a particularly stubborn chapter of the myth that I had stage-managed Ford's staff reorganization. Typical of this "Rumsfeld takes out Bush" storyline was the view expressed in a sympathetic biography of Bush, George Bush: The Life of a Lone Star Yankee: George Bush: The Life of a Lone Star Yankee: "Rumsfeld, who took over as secretary of defense in the administration's cabinet shake-up that fall, had a motive for shunting Bush off to the CIA.... Rumsfeld took a backseat to no one...and steered his organizational system to 'diminish the influence of all potential rivals at the White House.'" The Bush biography cited a memo I wrote to the President in 1975 that "lauded" Bush's qualifications for the job at CIA. From this memo the author argued that "Rumsfeld was more than a contributor to the Bush transfer. He was a promoter." "Rumsfeld, who took over as secretary of defense in the administration's cabinet shake-up that fall, had a motive for shunting Bush off to the CIA.... Rumsfeld took a backseat to no one...and steered his organizational system to 'diminish the influence of all potential rivals at the White House.'" The Bush biography cited a memo I wrote to the President in 1975 that "lauded" Bush's qualifications for the job at CIA. From this memo the author argued that "Rumsfeld was more than a contributor to the Bush transfer. He was a promoter."*

At the President's request, I provided him with a memo listing strengths and weaknesses of twenty-three potential CIA candidates, one of whom was Bush. At the end of this long list, the memo included the senior staff's rankings of the candidates listed. Rather than promoting Bush, I put him "below the line."16 That meant that I recognized his qualifications for the job but that he was not on my personal short list of top recommendations to the President. That meant that I recognized his qualifications for the job but that he was not on my personal short list of top recommendations to the President.

I understood why Bush might be a reasonable candidate for the position. He had served in Congress and had good relationships in both parties. It made sense to put a former legislator in the post, since it looked like the princ.i.p.al responsibility for the new CIA director during that period would be to deal less with intelligence matters and more with the Congress during difficult ongoing investigations. The investigations centered on covert programs authorized by several of Ford's predecessors as president that had been leaked and that had appeared in the press under a series of sensational headlines. One article described a program authorized by President Johnson to investigate ties between antiwar groups and foreign supporters, which continued during the Nixon administration. The CIA had monitored some ten thousand American citizens, a newspaper claimed. The reports also focused on a 1973 CIA review that doc.u.mented the Agency's covert operations stretching back a quarter century. The list included alleged a.s.sa.s.sination plots against foreign leaders authorized during the Kennedy and Johnson administrations. The explosive doc.u.ment tracing these activities was quickly given the t.i.tle the "Family Jewels."17 I was amazed by the allegations and shared President Ford's desire to have a CIA director in place who had some credibility with Congress. I was amazed by the allegations and shared President Ford's desire to have a CIA director in place who had some credibility with Congress.

Bush was eager to return to a high-profile post in the United States.18 His wife, Barbara, later noted that Bush was "thrilled" when he was asked to take the job at CIA. His wife, Barbara, later noted that Bush was "thrilled" when he was asked to take the job at CIA.19 My distinct impression was that he not only was greatly pleased, but also that he had actively sought the a.s.signment. My distinct impression was that he not only was greatly pleased, but also that he had actively sought the a.s.signment.

The Bush nomination engendered a controversy when Democrats in the Senate insisted that he agree not to be a vice presidential candidate in 1976 before they would consider his nomination. The senators argued that the CIA had been politicized, its credibility damaged, and Bush was a former Republican National Committee chairman with obvious political ambitions.

When I heard about the demand, I told President Ford that I thought he and Bush should not agree to the Senate's request. I said any president ought to be able to select anyone he wants for vice president, including Bush. Ironically, Ford told me that it was Bush who insisted that he agree to the senators' condition, because he was afraid he could not be confirmed otherwise and he badly wanted to be CIA director.* In his autobiography, Ford recalled that what actually took place was not what Bush later contended. "[E]ven though Congress held all the cards, I was tempted to fight," President Ford later wrote. "But Bush himself urged me to accept the Democrats' demand." In his autobiography, Ford recalled that what actually took place was not what Bush later contended. "[E]ven though Congress held all the cards, I was tempted to fight," President Ford later wrote. "But Bush himself urged me to accept the Democrats' demand."21 It has always amazed me that Bush's version of what took place has consistently been contrary to the facts, even when the actual version of what took place had been attested to in writing by Gerald Ford, not only in his book but also in our later personal correspondence. After the failure of President Bush's nomination of John Tower to be secretary of defense in 1989, my name was circulated in the press as a possibility for the post.22 The pushback from the Bush White House was fast and strong-with my imagined role in sending Bush to the CIA cited as the reason. I thought it highly unlikely that I would be asked to serve in his administration. Nonetheless, I was getting tired of reading the falsehoods surrounding the matter, and I wanted to set the record straight. So that spring I wrote to President Ford asking how he remembered the episode. The pushback from the Bush White House was fast and strong-with my imagined role in sending Bush to the CIA cited as the reason. I thought it highly unlikely that I would be asked to serve in his administration. Nonetheless, I was getting tired of reading the falsehoods surrounding the matter, and I wanted to set the record straight. So that spring I wrote to President Ford asking how he remembered the episode.23 Ford responded: "It was my sole decision to send George Bush to the CIA. George wanted to come back from China and Bill Colby wanted to leave the CIA because of the Church and Pike [Intelligence] Committee hearings.... It was George Bush's decision to agree not to accept any Vice Presidential nomination. I, reluctantly, agreed with his decision." Ford responded: "It was my sole decision to send George Bush to the CIA. George wanted to come back from China and Bill Colby wanted to leave the CIA because of the Church and Pike [Intelligence] Committee hearings.... It was George Bush's decision to agree not to accept any Vice Presidential nomination. I, reluctantly, agreed with his decision."24

Another Halloween ma.s.sacre myth has gained currency over the years: that I engineered the effective firing of Vice President Nelson Rockefeller, presumably to clear the way for me to be the vice presidential nominee.25 After I differed with him on policy matters, Rockefeller began making a series of accusations against me. This continued, and indeed escalated, even after the Ford administration ended, when he continued to engage in ridiculous charges. After I differed with him on policy matters, Rockefeller began making a series of accusations against me. This continued, and indeed escalated, even after the Ford administration ended, when he continued to engage in ridiculous charges.*

I suppose it is always easier on one's ego to say you were tripped rather than that you fell. But the reasons for President Ford's decision to remove the Vice President from the ticket were obvious: he was increasingly unpopular across the country. Ford found "ominous" a poll showing that 25 percent of Republicans would not vote for Ford if Nelson Rockefeller were his running mate.27 The reality was that Rockefeller might not have been able to win the vice presidential nomination at the 1976 Republican convention even if Ford were to have recommended him. And if Ford did try, it might have led to an ugly, divisive fight that could have caused him to lose the presidential nomination to Governor Ronald Reagan. The reality was that Rockefeller might not have been able to win the vice presidential nomination at the 1976 Republican convention even if Ford were to have recommended him. And if Ford did try, it might have led to an ugly, divisive fight that could have caused him to lose the presidential nomination to Governor Ronald Reagan.

On October 28, 1975, President Ford told Cheney and me that he had met with Rockefeller and "suggested" that Rockefeller announce that he would not be a candidate for vice president. This was news to me. Of course, when the President of the United States makes such a suggestion, it isn't a suggestion at all. Ford said Rockefeller responded positively and offered to do anything the President wanted. The President took Rocky up on his offer to help by asking Rockefeller to serve in a second term as secretary of the treasury or secretary of state if Kissinger left. But having just said he'd do whatever Ford asked of him, Rockefeller said no.

A few weeks later, his rejection festering, Rockefeller began to lash out wildly. At a meeting with Republican Party officials, where he was supposed to help motivate the senior party leaders, he instead berated them, holding them responsible for his removal from the Ford ticket. "You got me out, you sons of b.i.t.c.hes," he raged. "Now get off your a.s.s."28 His was a rather unorthodox motivational technique. His was a rather unorthodox motivational technique.

I was not surprised when I, too, became the target of Rockefeller's anger and disappointment. By this point, Rockefeller increasingly seemed to be troubled and embittered by his frustrated ambitions.

Although I saw Ford's cabinet moves as a sign of his growing confidence, and welcomed his decisiveness, ultimately it may have put him in a weaker position than if he had waited until after the 1976 election. Many conservatives were delighted with the removal of Rockefeller from the ticket but saw the firing of Schlesinger as a victory for Kissinger, who they distrusted for his approach toward the Soviet Union. Earlier in 1975, Ford had led Ronald Reagan in a primary contest by more than twenty points among Republicans, but by the close of that year, Reagan had inched ahead.

Announcing his candidacy for the Republican nomination, Reagan made no mention of President Ford. But when he said it was time for "progress instead of stagnation; the truth instead of promises; hope and faith instead of defeatism and despair," it was clear enough to whom he was referring.

More than a year earlier, Gerald Ford had taken office with the daunting task of steadying the nation and righting its course. With his integrity and warm, open manner, he had helped to dispel the demons of Vietnam and Watergate. But at the same time, a few of his key early decisions had imperiled his chances of reelection. They had led to what was being characterized as the Nixon-Ford administration by his opponents. And in selecting Rockefeller, he seemed not in tune with his party. Now President Ford faced a new challenge that was almost as daunting as those weeks after Nixon's resignation: a fight for his political survival.

This, however, was not to be my fight. I was leaving the White House to face my own new set of challenges: helping to steer America through a simmering Cold War and to begin to recover our nation's standing after the humiliating withdrawal from Vietnam.

PART VI

Fighting the Cold War"History teaches that weakness is provocative. Time and again weakness has invited adventures which strength might well have deterred."-Rumsfeld's Rules

Washington, D.C.MARCH 4, 2009 As I prepared to write this memoir, it occurred to me that it would be helpful to invite some of my former colleagues to talk about our experiences together. I thought it would help jog my memory and ensure that I took into account the perspectives of others. Unfortunately, the list of those from my earliest decades in government who were still alive was dwindling. One absence was most notable of all.

Gerald R. Ford died just after Christmas in 2006, his beloved Betty at his side. I was honored to be among those he had asked to deliver a eulogy.1 Notably, so was the man who defeated Ford in his 1976 quest for election in his own right, Jimmy Carter. With time and perspective, many of Ford's onetime adversaries embraced him with appreciation and affection. Though I could no longer talk with President Ford about our experiences together, there were others from that era who I thought could help shed some light on those years, including someone with whom I differed markedly from time to time. Notably, so was the man who defeated Ford in his 1976 quest for election in his own right, Jimmy Carter. With time and perspective, many of Ford's onetime adversaries embraced him with appreciation and affection. Though I could no longer talk with President Ford about our experiences together, there were others from that era who I thought could help shed some light on those years, including someone with whom I differed markedly from time to time.

In the early months of 2009, with our days of active government service ended, Henry Kissinger came to visit. Henry was eighty-five and I was seventysix. We had been friends for well over thirty years.

As we talked about my work on this book, Kissinger, an accomplished historian and author, went out of his way to be helpful. He provided some transcripts of telephone conversations we had had. And perhaps sensing my reluctance to dwell on our long-ago disagreements, he urged me to write the book as I remembered our relationship back then. "Tell it like it happened, Don," he prodded. "Don't gloss things over. I didn't," he added, with emphasis.

At various points over the years Kissinger had referred to me as a skillful, even ruthless, bureaucratic infighter. When the Nixon tapes became public, he was quoted making other tough, colorful comments in the heat of the moment. Kissinger called me when some tapes were to be released and apologized for some of the things he had said. I told him not to worry. I added that, at the time, I occasionally felt the same way about him. I said it with a smile, but it also happened to be true.

Time and distance can change and mature one's perspectives. Several years after the Ford administration ended, Joyce and I ran into Kissinger again at a reception. Joyce laughed when she saw him. She remembered when he liked to flash the peace sign to suggest, tongue in cheek, that she was a bleeding heart liberal on the Vietnam War. "Henry, I can't believe it," she said, as she hugged him affectionately, "I'm actually glad to see you!"

After Kissinger completed his memoir of the Ford administration in 1999, he sent me a copy of his book. The inscription was a perfect summation of our relationship: "To Don Rumsfeld, an occasional adversary and a permanent friend."

When I returned to government service in 2001, I invited Henry to join the Defense Policy Board. He was routinely involved in advising me on national security issues. I also arranged for him to be able to meet regularly and privately with President Bush.

But Kissinger and I had never worked as closely together as we did in the final year of President Ford's administration as the secretaries of state and defense. Though our perspectives varied, sometimes sharply, together we helped the President manage a Cold War, hold a resolute stance against Communist aggression, and work to rebuild America's defenses and standing after our country's withdrawal from Vietnam.

CHAPTER 14

Unfinished Business.

I was still serving as White House chief of staff on April 29, 1975, when America's long and vexing involvement in Vietnam came to a close. A few weeks earlier President Ford had implored the Democratic-controlled Congress to authorize aid to our ally, the beleaguered South Vietnamese. He and Kissinger hoped the funds could bolster the South enough so it could arrange some sort of a truce with the North Vietnamese. was still serving as White House chief of staff on April 29, 1975, when America's long and vexing involvement in Vietnam came to a close. A few weeks earlier President Ford had implored the Democratic-controlled Congress to authorize aid to our ally, the beleaguered South Vietnamese. He and Kissinger hoped the funds could bolster the South enough so it could arrange some sort of a truce with the North Vietnamese.

But the U.S. Congress had had enough of Vietnam.

When Ford heard that Congress had rejected his request, he was furious. "Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," he snapped.1 An evacuation of all of our forces was now inevitable. An evacuation of all of our forces was now inevitable.

Vietnam was the first war in our history that the American people were able to watch unfold on television. That fact made a big difference. As such, we were all witnesses to the heartbreaking scene of U.S. forces executing a humiliating exit while our Vietnamese allies of more than a decade of war faced an uncertain future at the hands of the triumphant Viet Cong and North Vietnamese.

Throughout that long, sad day, I was with President Ford at the White House as he monitored the withdrawal. The American amba.s.sador to Vietnam, Graham Martin, updated us on the number of Americans still waiting to evacuate, as well as the number of Vietnamese clamoring to leave. The second number kept growing.

Many of the Vietnamese who had worked with our forces were understandably desperate to flee from the advancing Northern forces, making use of rafts, small boats, whatever they could find to escape. When our Marines temporarily opened the gates to the emba.s.sy in Saigon, thousands of local citizens tried to force their way in, only to be physically pushed back. Martin and his team understandably found it difficult to turn our Vietnamese allies away.2 As Martin's wife departed by helicopter, she reportedly abandoned her suitcase so that s.p.a.ce could be made for one more South Vietnamese woman to squeeze onboard. As Martin's wife departed by helicopter, she reportedly abandoned her suitcase so that s.p.a.ce could be made for one more South Vietnamese woman to squeeze onboard.

Eventually it was decided that only American citizens could be airlifted in the short time remaining. The indelible image from that day is the heartbreaking photograph of desperate Vietnamese at a building across from the American emba.s.sy, trying to crowd aboard a helicopter departing from its roof. Those who had helped America during the war knew what was coming for them. It was an ignominious retreat for the world's leading superpower.

David Kennerly, the White House photographer who had earned a Pulitzer Prize for his Vietnam War photography and understood the power of images as well as anyone, put it succinctly to those of us gathered in the Oval Office with the President that day. "The good news is the war is over," he said. "The bad news is we lost."3 Secretary of State Kissinger believed that Amba.s.sador Martin would be the last American to leave the country.4 After word was received that Martin had been airlifted out of the South Vietnamese capital, Kissinger announced to reporters, "Our amba.s.sador has left, and the evacuation can be said to be completed." After word was received that Martin had been airlifted out of the South Vietnamese capital, Kissinger announced to reporters, "Our amba.s.sador has left, and the evacuation can be said to be completed."5 As it turned out, that wasn't quite true. As it turned out, that wasn't quite true.

After hearing Kissinger's statement, Secretary of Defense Schlesinger advised us of the problem. The contingent of U.S. Marines a.s.signed to prevent the panicking Vietnamese from flooding our emba.s.sy was still on the ground. Somehow there had been a misunderstanding. Kissinger and Schlesinger each considered the other's department responsible for the miscommunication. The President felt Schlesinger bore responsibility and said he was "d.a.m.n mad" about it.6 The last thing Ford needed was another public disagreement between his two top national security cabinet officials. The last thing Ford needed was another public disagreement between his two top national security cabinet officials.

I discussed the issue in the Oval Office with Ford, Kissinger, and Ron Nessen, the White House press secretary. A few in the room felt we should not issue a correction because the Marines were expected to be airlifted out soon, at which point Kissinger's statement would be accurate. I disagreed. What if the Marines were overrun and unable to get out? In any event, what we had told the American people simply was not true. That mattered.

"This war has been marked by so many lies and evasions," I said, "that it is not right to have the war end with one last lie."7 The President agreed. He sent Nessen down to the press room to issue a statement saying that the evacuation had not been completed after all.

Kissinger was not pleased about the correction and again vented his anger at Schlesinger. He wanted the Defense Department to be blamed publicly for the miscommunication.* So the war in Vietnam ended in much the way it had been carried out-with recriminations and regret. So the war in Vietnam ended in much the way it had been carried out-with recriminations and regret.

Since my years in Congress, I had had concerns about our country's involvement in Vietnam-to the point that both President Nixon and Kissinger viewed me as something of a dove on the subject. I hoped they would find a way to bring the war to an orderly close. It seemed to me that we had lost opportunities to actually win the war. During the Nixon administration, I supported the President's and Defense Secretary Mel Laird's policy of Vietnamization, which put the emphasis on enabling the Vietnamese to take charge of their own affairs. Even in the final days of the war, there was at least a possibility that we might have been able to salvage something worthwhile from the effort had Congress approved the resources to support the South Vietnamese government-and particularly to fund its army-for a longer period.9 But Congress was not ready to go against the strong antiwar sentiment in the country. But Congress was not ready to go against the strong antiwar sentiment in the country.

With the war's unfortunate end, a great many in our military and among the American people swore they would never again get involved in the tough, b.l.o.o.d.y business of counterinsurgency. Many wanted to turn inward, ignoring conflicts waged by the Soviet Union and its proxies. Instead of bringing us peace, I feared the chaotic conclusion of Vietnam could result in an even more deadly escalation of the broader Cold War struggle. The withdrawal from Vietnam became a symbol of American weakness-a weakness our adversaries would highlight for years-and an invitation to further aggression.

Even after the pullout from Vietnam, President Ford pleaded with Congress to at least provide military aid to the anticommunists in the region so they could defend themselves. Those pleas, too, were rebuffed. As such, the victory of the Viet Cong was accompanied by the rise of Communist forces in neighboring Laos and Cambodia. Khmer Rouge guerrillas captured the Cambodian capital of Phnom Penh and swiftly murdered the members of the prior Lon Nol government and their families. As many as two million people were ma.s.sacred in Cambodia's now infamous "killing fields," with the carnage often attributed to America's abandonment of the region.

Yet only days after the final U.S. helicopter departed Saigon, America was on the verge of being drawn into another conflict in Southeast Asia. On May 12, 1975, at around 7:15 a.m., those of us at the White House received alarming news: Khmer Rouge gunboats had seized an American merchant vessel, the SS Mayaguez Mayaguez, in the Gulf of Thailand, which had more than three dozen crew members...o...b..ard.

Ford quickly convened an NSC meeting and asked me to attend. With Kissinger and Schlesinger present, Vice President Nelson Rockefeller argued for an immediate, robust military response. I thought that was premature, since we were still trying to locate the captured ship. Kissinger favored "tough talk" and a demand to free the ship.

My first concern was typical of a chief of staff; I thought it preferable to quickly develop a clear range of options for the President. I recommended acknowledging the incident but saying as little as possible so as to preserve those options until he had decided on a course.

The President decided to go with Henry's approach.10 Ford publicly declared the capture of the Ford publicly declared the capture of the Mayaguez Mayaguez an act of piracy. Absent the immediate release of the crew members and the vessel, the President warned, "the most serious consequences" would follow. an act of piracy. Absent the immediate release of the crew members and the vessel, the President warned, "the most serious consequences" would follow.11 There was speculation that some, if not all, of the hostages had been taken to the nearby island of Koh Tang, so the President ordered a military blockade around it. Three Cambodian gunboats that chose to defy the blockade were sunk. There was speculation that some, if not all, of the hostages had been taken to the nearby island of Koh Tang, so the President ordered a military blockade around it. Three Cambodian gunboats that chose to defy the blockade were sunk.