AN IRREVERSIBLE REVOLUTION

THE Defense Department that Robert McNamara took over in 1961 was already inching, however painfully, toward internal unity. The new Secretary substituted revolution for evolution to create an entirely new order and installed it so firmly that its main lines will most likely prove irreversible.

His principal instrument was the defense budget, which had traditionally been sliced up among the three services, with each recipient determining pretty much how its portion should be spent. McNamara replaced this with a system of allocation by function, or mission, regardless of service bureaucracy. Nine broad missions were defined, such as strategic forces and general-purpose forces, and the Army, Navy and Air Force departments were compelled to integrate their efforts whether the activity was nuclear targeting or paper-clip purchases.

Smocks & Bolts

The Pentagon was so unaccustomed to common effort that early in his career McNamara was called on to personally, preside over an assay of butchers' smocks to select one design for all services. He soon established the Defense Supply Agency for such activities. He also created the Defense Intelligence Agency to coordinate previously scattered intelligence efforts, and centralized other key functions. Under McNamara, the concept and practice of systems analysis were introduced. The goal: scientific evaluation of major weapons developments and other expensive projects to determine as objectively as possible the return for a proposed investment compared with that for its alternatives.

Time and again he would appear in the windowless second floor briefing room--where last week he told of his departure--to describe his latest economy move, ranging from less expensive bolts to closing superfluous military installations. By the end, he could claim savings of $15 billion a year.

Debits & Credits

At these sessions he liked to cite John Kennedy's original direction to him: "Determine what forces are required and procure and support them as economically as possible." The first half of this mandate meant more spending. Even before the Viet Nam war reached major proportions, McNamara's budget was $10 billion above those of the last Eisenhower years because Kennedy was determined to establish his own military strategy--flexible response instead of John Foster Dulles' massive retaliation. Flexible response dictated that the nation must be able to meet any military challenge, whether nuclear, conventional or guerrilla, and it was up to McNamara to provide forces and hardware. Thus, while he was increasing the arsenal of long-range nuclear missiles, he expanded the number of combat Army divisions from eleven to 17, beefed up Special Forces, trebled the helicopter troop-lift component, and increased the number of guided-missile surface ships from 23 to 72. A stern test of his ability came in 1965, when the U.S. deployed 100,000 troops and their logistical support across the world to Viet Nam in just 120 days.

Against such accomplishments, notably development of new missiles, aircraft and ordnance, McNamara's critics charge him with large debits. He burdened controversial proposals with a rigid approach that gained enemies in Congress. Partly for this reason, he was never able to fully implement good ideas such as reform of the National Guard and the Army Reserve.

One of his most controversial projects is the swing-wing F-l l l aircraft, which he promoted as an Air Force-Navy plane that would save $1 billion or more through "commonality." The Air Force model is turning out well enough, but the Navy is still dissatisfied with its overweight version, and the cost is far above original estimates. The computer approach occasionally cut too close to the bone, as when Army requests for helicopters in 1963 and 1964 were reduced, only to cause shortages in Viet Nam soon after.

A shortage of helicopters is easily detected and quickly cured. But the ultimate effects of McNamara's decisions to scrap projects such as the Air Force's Dyna-soar spacecraft and to phase out long-range heavy bombers, will not be fully measurable for years. McNamara has been spending $7 billion a year for research and development, far more than had been allocated previously; yet he is accused of killing more projects than he carries out. Ten years hence, the nuclear aircraft engine, which he abandoned, may prove to be a vital necessity.

Outthought & Outmaneuvered

In establishing civilian control of the Pentagon as a fact of life as well as a theory, McNamara perhaps went too far in alienating service officers. He not only outthought and outmaneuvered such potentates as General Curtis LeMay, but he sometimes humiliated them as well. Within the Pentagon his information policies throttled internal dissent. Even Vice Admiral Hyman Rickover, himself a rebel against traditional military procedure, protested: "Independence of expression has now become almost unthinkable."

On balance, nonetheless, McNamara's accomplishments must rank as historic, while his mistakes seem ephemeral by comparison. The generals themselves recognize that nothing like McNamara has ever happened to the Pentagon, or is likely to again very soon. "He is the only one," says Army Chief of Staff Harold Johnson, "who has ever run it."

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