Forrestal and Truman
|
By Richard M. Dolan
copyright ?2001 all rights reserved
Swearing in of Alleged UFO Insider Symington
|
Note: this article is adapted and expanded from Richard
Dolan?s UFOs
and the National Security State, Keyhole Publishing,
2000. It appears in the December 2001/January 2002 issue of
UFO Magazine.
At around 2 a.m. on the morning of May 22, 1949, America?s
first Secretary of Defense, James Vincent Forrestal, fell to his
death from a small window of the 16th floor of the Bethesda
Naval Hospital.
The decline and death of Forrestal is an unresolved problem
of history. There is no question that he suffered from a
spectacular mental breakdown during 1948 and 1949. Exactly
why he did so is less certain, but the answer may have
relevance to American national security ? and the pesky topic
of UFOs.
From the standpoint of conventional history -- that is, sans
UFOs -- there were no shortage of problems facing Forrestal.
Throughout 1948, Forrestal locked horns with Air Force
Secretary Stuart Symington over defense spending. Truman
demanded an impossibly balanced budget, and Forrestal?s job
was to keep the services in line. He could not do this and, to
some degree, would not. The result was the erosion of
Truman?s confidence. It may not have mattered to Forrestal:
like most of the country, he assumed Truman?s political career
was over and that by the end of the year a Republican,
probably Thomas Dewey, would be in the White House.
But Forrestal, not Truman, was the doomed man. His
relationship with Symington went from bad to worse. For
reasons still unclear, Symington embarked, in the words of
one author, "upon a kind of personal guerilla warfare" against
the Secretary of Defense. Throughout the fall and winter of
1948, Forrestal?s mental health, physical condition, and
authority as Secretary of Defense deteriorated. When Truman
shocked the world in November by winning the Presidential
election, Forrestal had still not obtained a budget consensus
from the Joint Chiefs. Friends commented on his growing
paranoia. He was convinced that "foreign-looking men" were
following him, and that Symington was spying on him.
Forrestal?s belief eventually came to the attention of Truman
and Secret Service Chief U. E. Baughman, who decided
that Forrestal was suffering from "a total psychotic
breakdown."
On January 11th, 1949, Truman informed Forrestal that Louis
Johnson would soon replace him as Secretary of Defense. By
now, Symington and Attorney General Tom Clark were feeding
stories to journalist Drew Pearson, in particular that Forrestal
complained of "being followed by Jews or Zionist agents."
Forrestal accused Clark of having the FBI shadow him, which
Clark denied, but which according to all of Forrestal?s
biographers could well have been true. Forrestal finally left
office in a formal ceremony on March 28th, his last public
appearance.
What followed after the ceremony remains mysterious. "There
is something I would like to talk to you about," Symington
told Forrestal, and accompanied him privately during the ride
back to the Pentagon. What Symington said is not known,
but Forrestal emerged from the ride deeply upset, even
traumatized, upon arrival at his office. Friends of Forrestal
implied that Symington said something that "shattered
Forrestal?s last remaining defenses." When someone entered
Forrestal?s office several hours later, the former Secretary of
Defense did not notice. Instead, he sat rigidly at his desk,
staring at the bare wall, incoherent, repeating the
sentence, "you are a loyal fellow," for several hours.
Forrestal was taken home, but within a day the Air Force flew
him to Hobe Sound, Florida, home of Robert Lovett (a future
Secretary of Defense). Forrestal?s first words were "Bob,
they?re after me." He met with Dr. William Menninger, of the
Menninger Foundation, and a consultant to the Surgeon
General of the Army. Captain George N. Raines, chief
psychologist at the U.S. Naval Hospital at Bethesda, soon
arrived. It is not exactly clear what transpired during
Forrestal?s brief stay in Florida. One story from Pearson was
that Forrestal had several hysterical episodes and made at
least one suicide attempt, certain that the Communists were
planning an imminent invasion. Menninger explicitly denied
this. He did say that upon his arrival, Forrestal told him that
the day before, "he had placed a belt around his neck with
the intention of hanging himself, but the belt broke."
But Menninger found no marks on Forrestal?s neck or body,
nor did anyone find broken belts of any kind. Menninger
considered Forrestal?s claim to be a nightmare. That?s about
all we can know for sure.
On April 2, 1949, "for security reasons," Forrestal?s coterie
flew him to Bethesda. During the trip from the Air Field to the
hospital, Forrestal made several attempts to leave the moving
vehicle, and was forcibly restrained. He talked of suicide, of
being a bad Catholic, and several times of those "who are
trying to get me." He was admitted to Bethesda under care of
Raines, who diagnosed Forrestal?s illness as Involutional
Melancholia, a depressive condition sometimes seen in people
reaching middle age, often who saw their life as a failure.
Upon arrival at Bethesda, Forrestal declared that he did not
expect to leave the place alive. In a highly unusual decision
for a suicidal patient, Forrestal?s doctor was instructed by "the
people downtown" (e.g. national security) to place him in the
VIP 16th floor suite.
Meanwhile, Forrestal?s personal diaries, consisting of fifteen
looseleaf binders totaling 3,000 pages, were removed from his
former office and brought to the White House, where they
remained for the next year. The White House later claimed
that Forrestal had requested for Truman to take custody
of the diaries. Such a claim, frankly, is preposterous.
Throughout 1948, Forrestal had become increasingly alienated
from Truman. Prior to the election, he had even met privately
with leading Republicans to help insure his future with the
Dewey administration. Truman then abruptly fired him in
favor of Johnson, a man plainly not qualified for the job.
Forrestal?s diaries contained sensitive information that
Truman?s people needed to know about. Presumably they had
ample time to review them during the seven weeks of
Forrestal?s hospitalization.
Throughout Forrestal?s hospitalization, access to him was
severely restricted. One-time visitors were his wife, his two
sons, Sidney Souers (a former DCI, NSC executive secretary,
and alleged MJ-12 member), Louis Johnson, Truman, and
Congressman Lyndon Johnson. Menninger visited twice.
Although Forrestal was presumably glad to see his sons, he
was not close to any of these visitors, and had a political
antipathy to his government colleagues who came by.
However, Forrestal was not permitted to see the several
people he continually asked to see: his brother, a friend, and
two priests.
Henry Forrestal, for example, repeatedly tried to see his
brother but was refused until he threatened to tell the
newspapers and sue the hospital. Ultimately, he was able to
visit his brother four times. Henry told Raines and the
hospital?s commandant, Captain B. W. Hogan, that his brother
wanted to talk with a close friend, Monsignor Maurice
Sheehy. Hogan replied that he was aware of this, but still
would not allow it.
Indeed, Sheehy had tried seven times to see Forrestal. Each
time he was told his timing was "not opportune." (What kind
of hospital policy denies a patient the right to see a priest,
minister, or rabbi?) Sheehan, a former Navy chaplain, argued
several times with Raines, and had the impression that
Raines was acting under orders. Another priest, Father Paul
McNally of Georgetown University, was also barred from
seeing Forrestal, as was at least one other (unnamed) friend
of the former Secretary.
Still, by May, Forrestal was improving. When Henry finally got
to see him, he thought his brother was "acting and talking as
sanely and intelligently as any man I?ve ever known." On May
14, 1949, Raines decided that he would leave Washington in
four days to attend a meeting of the American Psychiatric
Association. After their last meeting on the morning of the
18th, Raines wrote that Forrestal was "somewhat better than
on the corresponding day of the preceding week." Forrestal
continued in good spirits throughout all of the 20th and 21st.
He showed no signs of depression, was well dressed, shaved,
and in good appetite.
But the more Henry Forrestal thought about his brother being
shut up at Bethesda and denied the right to see Father
Sheehy, the more it bothered him. He decided he was going
to take his brother to the countryside to complete his
recovery, and made train reservations to return to Washington
on May 22. He also reserved a room at the Mayflower Hotel
for that day, then phoned the hospital to announce that he
would arrive on May 22 to take his brother.
He was too late. The official account of Forrestal?s death
runs as follows. During the night of May 21/22, Forrestal was
awake at 1:45 a.m., copying a chorus from Sophocles?s Ajax
from a book of world literature. (The New York Times added
that Forrestal had been asleep at 1:30, then awake at 1:45.)
A Navy corpsman named Robert Wayne Harrison, Jr.,
responsible for guarding Forrestal?s room, checked in, as was
his job every fifteen minutes. Forrestal told Harrison that he
did not want a sedative, as he intended to stay up late and
read. Harrison reported Forrestal?s refusal to the psychiatrist ?
Raines? assistant, Dr. Robert Deen ? sleeping next door. They
returned five minutes later to an empty room. Deen later
claimed that Forrestal had sent Harrison out on a "brief
errand." During this time, Forrestal walked to the diet kitchen
across the hall, tied one end of his bathrobe cord to the
radiator, the other end around his neck, removed a flimsy
screen, and jumped from the 16th floor. The cord came
untied, and he fell to his death after hitting part of the
building on the way down.
Forrestal?s most recent biographers discounted the possibility
of murder, calling the Secretary?s death "a series of chance
events." Yet, discrepancies in the official suicide story were
never clearly resolved, and several people close to Forrestal
did not believe it. A biographer of Forrestal writing in the
1960s, noted that "even now . . . certain details have not
been made public," and that some believed Forrestal?s death
to be "very much desired by individuals and groups who, in
1949, held great power in the United States." Others went
further, and maintained that Forrestal was murdered. Henry
Forrestal, for one, believed strongly that "they" murdered his
brother ? they being either Communists or Jews within the
government (Henry considered the Jewish connection
because Forrestal?s geopolitics gave him a pro-Arab
disposition).
Father Sheehy had reason to suspect murder. When he
arrived at Bethesda Naval Hospital after learning of Forrestal?s
death, an experienced-looking hospital corpsman approached
him through the crowd. In a low, tense voice he
said: "Father, you know Mr. Forrestal didn?t kill himself, don?t
you?" Before Sheehy could respond or ask his name, others in
the crowd pressed close, and the man quickly departed.
There are several odd elements concerning Forrestal?s final
moments. First, the young corpsman guarding Forrestal ? that
is, Harrison ? was a new man, someone Forrestal had never
seen before. The regular guard during the midnight shift was
absent without leave and, the story goes, had gotten drunk
the night before. Harrison was the only person to have had
direct contact with Forrestal in the moments before his
death, and ultimately it was on his word only that the official
account rested.
Also, Forrestal never finished writing the chorus from
Sophocles, and in fact stopped in the middle of a word. Quite
possibly, Forrestal had not even written the fragment that
evening, especially if he had been asleep at 1:30 a.m. How
reasonable is it to suppose that, sometime between 1:30
a.m. and 1:45 a.m., he woke up, got out some writing
material, located a bleak poem within a huge anthology,
copied out 17 lines, put on his robe, crossed the hall to the
diet kitchen where he tightly wrapped and knotted his
bathrobe cord around his neck and presumably tied the loose
end to the radiator under the window; then climbed up on the
window sill and jumped.
There is also an odd juxtaposition of a tightly knotted
bathrobe cord around Forrestal?s neck and the assumption
that he tied the other end so loosely to a radiator that it
immediately came untied and allowed him to fall to his
death. This radiator was a rather improbable gallows: it was
about two feet long, the top was six inches below the sill,
and it was attached to the wall with its base a good fifteen
inches above the floor. But there was no evidence that the
bathrobe cord had ever been tied to the small radiator in the
first place. If the cord had snapped under Forrestal?s weight,
one end would have been found still fastened to the radiator.
The cord did not break, however, and there was not a mark
on the radiator to indicate it had ever been tied there.
Moreover, if Forrestal wanted to hang himself, why choose a
tiny window by anchoring himself to a radiator when he much
more easily have done the job from a door or sturdy fixture,
such as the shower curtain rod in his own bathroom? On the
other hand, if Forrestal wanted to go out the window, why
bother with a cord? Why not simply jump, a far easier
proposition? In sum, we do not know that the cord was ever
tied to the radiator, but we do know is it was tied tightly to
Forrestal?s neck.
Later inspection found heavy scuff marks outside the window
sill and cement work. Proponents of the suicide theory claim
these were made by Forrestal?s feet while he was hanging by
the neck from the radiator, and perhaps that he belatedly
changed his mind and tried to climb back in. But the scuff
marks confirm no such thing. They could just as easily have
been made by his struggle with someone pushing him out the
window.
There are many other suspicious elements to this story, such
as the decision to place Forrestal on the 16th floor. This was
exactly opposite what medical opinion desired (the bottom
floor of a nearby annex had been the first choice of his
caretakers), but was pressed by unnamed individuals in
Washington.
Also, the official investigation of Forrestal?s death was as
much of a sham as that of President Kennedy would be 14
years later. The hospital labeled his death a suicide before
any investigation took place; the county coroner hurried over
to confirm the hospital statements. In cases where there is
even a slight possibility of murder, it is normal for a coroner
to delay signing a death certificate until an investigation, an
autopsy, and an inquest had been completed. This did not
happen. Since the death occurred on a U.S. naval
reservation, local police did not investigate. Instead, the
head of the naval board of inquiry immediately announced he
was "absolutely certain" that Forrestal?s death "could be
nothing else than suicide."
If we concede the possibility of murder, we must ask who and
why? One can hardly credit the budget issue, which was
settled by then and especially moot once Forrestal was out
of office. One proponent of the murder theory blamed
Communists within the U.S. government, or perhaps even the
Soviet KGB/GPU. The reason, it was claimed, had to do with
Forrestal?s diaries and plans for a book after his release from
the hospital. Forrestal was an inveterate anti-Communist, and
might have been perceived as problematic for agents of the
Soviets. Moreover, the Soviets were no strangers to the art
of staged suicides. Of course, neither were the Americans.
But there is at least one other avenue to consider.
UFOs constitute the great hole of contemporary history. We
know, at the very least, that this was a topic of great
concern to those at the top of American national security
policy, despite the near-complete absence of public
references to it. It is the proverbial elephant in the dining
room that no one wishes to discuss. There are several
reasons to consider a UFO connection to Forrestal?s death.
In the first place, Forrestal?s position within the defense
community made him de facto a key player in the formulation
of UFO policy. Because of the key importance, even urgency,
associated with this topic in policy formulation during the late
1940s, we must assume that Forrestal was involved. The
sensitivity of the UFO problem meant that Forrestal?s mental
deterioration was a real security risk. One might even wonder
whether Forrestal learned a truth about UFOs that
contributed to his breakdown.
After all, consider the recent developments of the UFO
problem for American national security policymakers. By 1948
(if not earlier, e.g. Roswell), it was becoming clear that the
Soviets were not responsible for UFOs, and neither were the
Americans. It was equally clear that well qualified military
observers and equipment had tracked these objects at
speeds and maneuvering capabilities that were impossible
with contemporary technology. In the spring of 1948, White
Sands Proving Ground in New Mexico had been the scene of
an extraordinary UFO sighting that was analyzed in secret by
the Air Force Scientific Advisory Panel and security personnel
at Los Alamos. The investigating team decided that UFOs
were "of extreme importance." That summer, another
incredible case occurred, which resulted in the
famed "Estimate of the Situation" stating the extraterrestrial
thesis as an answer to UFOs. This was shot down by Air
Force Commander Hoyt Vandenberg. Even so, President
Truman began receiving regular briefings that summer on
UFOs from his Air Force liaison, Colonel Robert Landry
(coordinated with the CIA). Such briefings lasted through the
remainder of his presidency. By the end of 1948, the curious
and unexplained "green fireball" phenomenon began appearing
in very localized fashion over Los Alamos. This, too, received
extreme levels of attention from America?s military and
scientific elite, and did not (and do not) appear to be natural
phenomena. In short, UFOs mattered a great deal within
defense circles, and Forrestal was at the hub.
Secondly, Forrestal?s concern about being followed
by "foreign-looking men" is a common description of the
legendary-to-the-point-of-cliché Men in Black. He never
stated clearly just who he believed to be following him, at
least not consistently. Others assumed that he was talking
about Communists, Jews, and Washington insiders, but they
could only assume.
Then there is the disconcerting relationship with Air Force
Secretary Symington. True, Symington considered Forrestal
to be an enemy. But why, in the moment of Forrestal?s
departure from politics, amid a spectacular psychological
collapse, did Symington take it upon himself to have a secret
conversation with Forrestal that left him utterly incoherent?
This goes beyond mere conventional political maneuvering:
what did Symington say ? or do ? to Forrestal? At least one
senior military person linked Symington to a type of
UFO "control group," and that was General Arthur Exon,
former base commander of Wright-Patterson AFB, in an
interview he gave in 1990. According to Exon, Symington was
one of the "unholy thirteen," one of those who knew the most
about Roswell. Forrestal, said Exon, was another.
An explanation centering on the UFO phenomenon accounts
surprisingly well for the complete unhinging of a successful
and brilliant individual, and more importantly, the need to
silence someone who could no longer be trusted.
Perhaps Forrestal?s psychological state was such that he did
commit suicide. Although the facts of his death do not point
toward this conclusion, we do not have definitive knowledge,
either. But consider the case of American journalist George
Polk. A year before, Polk had been investigating corruption in
the Greek military regime, elements of which then murdered
him. The Communists were promptly blamed, while America?s
intelligence and media communities knowingly went along with
the charade. Or, just a few years later, in 1953, when
American biological weapons expert Frank Olsen "fell" from the
10th floor of the Statler Hotel in New York City, after he had
a very bad LSD trip, courtesy of the CIA, and had become a
security risk.
During the bad old days of Stalin?s Russia, airbrushed
photographs were a normal, if crude, way to sanitize history.
American methods are less crude, but no less normal.
****
Notes: Perhaps not surprisingly, there are precious few
sources on Forrestal. See Arnold Rogow, James Forrestal, A
Study of Personality, Politics, and Policy (MacMillan, 1963);
Townsend Hoopes & Douglas Brinkley, Driven Patriot: The Life
and Times of James Forrestal (Knopf, 1992); the extremely
rare Cornell Simpson, The Death of James Forrestal (Western
Islands Publishers, 1966); and the extremely sanitized The
Forrestal Diaries edited by Walter Mills (Viking Press, 1951).
