Throwing the Rule Book

The Eighth Army last week clamped an airtight censorship on all news from Korea. Colonel R. L. Thompson, Major General Matthew Ridgway's information boss, issued 1,600 words of regulations that forbade correspondents to describe armament and equipment, discuss the Army's "strength, efficiency, morale," identify troops by unit or location, or even to mention the presence of U.S. troops in any sector until the enemy knew it. Dispatches not only had to be "accurate in statement and in implication" but so written as not to "injure the morale of our forces or our allies and . . . not embarrass the U.S., its allies or neutral countries." Furthermore, warned Colonel Thompson, any violation of these rules might bring "disciplinary action" and in "extreme cases . . . arrest [for] deportation or court-martial."

Strait Jacket? Actually, the regulations, drastic though they sounded, were from the censorship provisions of the Army Field Manual, under which war correspondents worked during World War II. What shook newsmen was not the language, but the way Thompson's small band of inexperienced censors began interpreting it. Newsmen were told that they might no longer use the word "retreat." Retreat, it appeared, was only what the enemy did. The Eighth Army's backpedaling was all part of a plan, said security officers, therefore it should and would be called a "withdrawal"no exceptions tolerated.

From Tokyo, which still had only "advisory" censorship, correspondents fired off hot protests. Russell Brines, A.P.'s Tokyo chief, cabled that "censorship is throwing a black curtain around [the] news." The New York Times's Dick Johnston reported the convictionusually sound in such casesthat it "was being used to cover up military errors and defeats."

At first, MacArthur's spokesmen in Tokyo seemed just as bewildered as newsmen. Colonel Marion P. Echols, MacArthur's information boss, said he had not even seen the new censorship rules from Korea except in a "telephoned and garbled version." But next day, Colonel Echols himself announced still further restrictions on news. Henceforth, he declared, MacArthur's own headquarters would issue no further information concerning land, sea or air operations in Korea. All this would come from lower-command headquarters, i.e., the Eighth Army and naval and air force commands. The Chicago Daily News's Correspondent Keyes Beech jumped on this as evidence that Washington was gagging MacArthur and trimming his power. Wrote Beech, "MacArthur's headquarters is reduced to releases of 'general' nature, human interest stories and awards and decorations . . . That MacArthur would willingly surrender his freedom of speech is unthinkable."

Colonel Echols snapped: "There is not an ounce of truth in it." General MacArthur's headquarters itself had ordered the change since, with separate releases coming from Ridgway's and MacArthur's headquarters, there was frequent duplication and sometimes conflict. "Since the Eighth Army now controls all ground activity," added Echols, "it is more efficient to let it announce all news concerning day-to-day operations."

Roomy Overcoat. In the first few days of the new censorship, A.P.'s Brines estimated, the restrictions had cut his file from Korea by 25% and slowed up stories as much as an hour, but otherwise there hadn't been any dire consequences. I.N.S.'s Tokyo Chief Howard Handleman preferred letting the censors worry about security instead of following the old "honor" system, which made correspondents responsible for military security. Said he: "It's a lot better than being awakened at 4 some morning to learn that somebody has broken a story that we have been sitting on."

As in World War II, correspondents were already finding ways of satisfying the censor's rule book and still getting their news out. For example, Reuters' Alex Valentine wrote a story mentioning Brigadier Tom Brodie, commander of Britain's 29th Brigade. When the censor struck out Brodie's name and nationality, Valentine described him as "a United Nations brigadier wearing a British military overcoat," and the censor passed it.

Nor did censorship prevent Chicago Daily Newsman Beech from getting out the week's most sensational story from Tokyo. He cabled that "authoritative sources" had told him that General MacArthur had recommended to Washington that the U.S. withdraw from Korea. When Beech first showed the story to Colonel Esher C. Burkart, chief of MacArthur's press "advisory" division, Colonel Burkart tore up the first two pages. Then Beech took another copy to Colonel Echols who, after suggesting a few qualifying changes, approved it. But when the story got a front-page play in many U.S. papers, Colonel Echols flatly branded the story "a goddam lie," although he did not explain why he had okayed it. Henceforth, said Echols, no correspondent might use the phrase "authoritative source" unless he could prove that his statement came from MacArthur or his acting chief of staff, Major General Doyle 0. Hickey.

By week's end, Washington was so fed up with the confusion over the new censorship policy that the Pentagon called Colonel Echols home to find out what was going on. Meanwhile, the Army's information chief, Major General Floyd Parks, asked U.S. editors for "forbearance . . until we get this thing on the trolley."

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