Week of Decision

The week of the war's end was, in many ways, the true beginning of the Truman Presidency. The military tasks which Harry Truman had inherited were done. The broad phases of Franklin Roosevelt's foreign-policy commitments had been carried out. The crisis of peace had arrived--and Harry Truman was on his own.

By week's end President Truman's friends agreed that: the President had unhesitatingly met the problem of peace headon; had proved himself a jaunty master of the difficult art of delegating authority; had accomplished smoothly in a few days what many of Washington's war-wearied officials had thought would take far longer.

While Washington jittered over Tokyo's delay, the President looked ahead to the peace and its problems, switched on the green light for a startlingly sudden return of industry to prewar pursuits (see BUSINESS). To this end, he had called in Labor Secretary Lewis Schwellenbach, OPAdministrator Chester Bowles, others whose orders set the reconversion machinery into operation. The President had also seen three groups of legislators, and had pinned the Distinguished Service Medal on Secretary of State James F. Byrnes.

The Day. On Surrender Day, the President was up at 7:15 a.m. As the tenseness grew, hour by hour, as Jimmy Byrnes made hurried trips in & out of the White House side door, Harry Truman outwardly seemed to be the calmest man in Washington.

He talked about upcoming legislation with Utah's Senator Elbert D. Thomas and Kentucky's Representative Andrew May. He talked (upcoming politics, presumably) with Postmaster General Bob Hannegan.

He noted Social Security's tenth anniversary with a statement: "... We still have a long way to go before we can truthfully say that our Social Security system furnished the people . . . adequate protection." Later, he pledged, he would send Congress specific recommendations to that end.

He found time to chat with the aging (51) but still boyish Duke of Windsor, who just wanted to say hello. Explained the Duke: "You know, I met him in France during the last war. I don't remember exactly the place."

The Hour. When the big news came at last, the President called his Cabinet and the top men of the war bureaus. Anotner call went out at the President's order to frail, white-haired Cordell Hull. As the official family gathered in the Oval Room, the President beamed his greetings.

Mrs. Truman, in grey, sat quietly near by. In a fresh-pressed, double-breasted blue suit, the President stood, glanced at the clock. It was a few seconds before 7 p.m.--the hour agreed upon with London and Moscow for the announcement of Japan's surrender.

There was no flutter in Harry Truman's matter-of-fact voice as he read the message from Tokyo.

"Our Real Task." In a moment, outside in Pennsylvania Avenue, there was a roaring chant: "We want Truman!" The President quickly obliged. He and Mrs. Truman went out to the columned portico, then down the green lawn to within 25 feet of the shouting thousands behind the iron fence and the row of MPs who brought their bayoneted rifles to port arms.

The Trumans smiled and waved, then returned to the White House. But the crowd still wanted Truman. President and First Lady made a second appearance on the porch. This time there was a hastily erected loudspeaker.

The President spoke: "Ladies and gentlemen. This is a great day. . . . This is the day when we can start on our real task of implementation of free government in the world." Soberly, he reminded the crowd of the emergency ahead. It was as great, he said, as the emergency on Dec. 7, 1941--"It is going to take the help of all of us to do it."

If there was any celebrating inside the White House that night, there was no official word of it. The best guess: Harry Truman, Jimmy Byrnes and a few others got together around highballs. But happy Harry Truman had two telephone calls to make: 1) to his 92-year-old mother in Grandview, Mo., to make personal the news she had heard on the radio;* 2) to Eleanor Roosevelt, to say that he wished Franklin Roosevelt could have been in Washington that day.

Next morning, as usual, President Truman was early at his desk. During the rest of the week, he waded through a long list of appointments, met the governors of seven states, agreed with them (they reported) that employment services should be returned to the states.

At his first peacetime press conference, the President asked for and got a fairly rough ride in free-for-all questioning. In a dozen minutes he had 28 questions fired at him. His answers were to the point:

P: No, the Japanese would be given no opportunity for revenge.

P: Yes, the wheels were in motion to turn the atomic bomb plants into something of benefit to the world.

P: Taxes? The experts were at work on revisions. (Congress will get their findings next month; individual income taxes may be shaved a little.)

P: The full employment bill was on his list of "must" legislation.

P: A labor-management conference would be called after Congress convenes. (The President urged a reconversion-period truce on labor disputes.)

Politics & Work. There was one more bit of news: Harry Truman, asked about vacancies in Government ranks, said that politics was now open and free. In effect, it was a signal that the wartime honeymoon was just about over, that the political shooting was about to start.

For the next two days the President worked hard and long. Decisions came out: a shakedown in the State Department, a swift end to Lend-Lease, authority for the War Labor Board to relax wage controls (Little Steel was now a broken yardstick).

He had a Cabinet meeting, and Navy Secretary James Forrestal and Fleet Admiral Ernest J. King presented him a fine table model of the battleship Missouri, flagship of the U.S. Third Fleet.

He spent 87 minutes talking with China's Premier Dr. T. V. Soong. And then Jack Benny came in and cracked that if he had not known the President was so busy he would have brought his violin and played a tune. Reported pleased Comedian Benny: the President laughed --"he's a swell guy."

By week's end the White House staff was bone-tired. The President looked only a little tired. He had a swim.

"This Moment." On Sunday, which the President had designated as the nation's day of prayer and thanks for victory, he and Mrs. Truman sat before an altar in the East Room, took part in services conducted by Brigadier General Luther D. Miller and Rear Admiral William N. Thomas, Army & Navy chiefs of chaplains. About 200 others--members of the Government, their wives, Mrs. Woodrow Wilson, Mrs. Frank Knox--repeated a litany of thanksgiving. Harry Truman's lips formed the words: "We thank Thee, O God."

* Said she to a reporter: "I'm glad Harry decided to end the war."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.