Commander from Culver City

By Hugh Sidey

Anyone who has been a military academy cadet, a cavalry private, an infantry sergeant, a submarine commander, an R.A.F. flyer and a prisoner of war should be ready for the role of Commander in Chief. Not to mention having been a Confederate captain, George Armstrong Custer, who became a Union general in the Civil War.

In fact, Ronald Reagan's only real military service was in the peacetime reserves and as one of "the Culver City commandos," who made training films for the Army Air Forces during World War II. But there is no doubt among those who now watch him in the White House that all those movie parts involving military heroics helped form his view of how America should use its power in the world.

Reagan's approach has a certain show-business tilt. He set out to engender new pride in the military. He ordered more prominent display of the Stars and Stripes. He insisted that the ceremony for Master Sergeant Roy P. Benavidez, who was belatedly awarded the Medal of Honor for heroism in Viet Nam, be scheduled at the Pentagon, and he made the award himself. Reagan urged that rules on military uniforms be relaxed so that more servicemen would be encouraged to wear them off duty as well as on.

The President has read some military history, but he is no student of either geopolitics or hardware. The question once again arises: Can a leader who is essentially unknowing about complex strategic issues make the right military choices? The nation's past yields few lessons. Franklin Roosevelt, an Assistant Secretary of the Navy during World War I, fancied himself a strategist of sorts. He loved to ride the bridge of a warship, wearing his black cape. But warfare was simpler then, and Roosevelt's long reign as an active Commander in Chief did educate him. Harry Truman had good instincts about war, and even better men around him. Ike, of course, knew roughly what he was doing.

But starting with John Kennedy, the job of Commander in Chief changed dramatically. Thanks to modern communications, Presidents became as intimate with battlefields as company commanders in a skirmish.

The kind of detail that used to be left to a flight leader was settled during the Viet Nam War by Lyndon Johnson in the White House.

Reagan may be changing all this. In strategic matters, he has ordered Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger to "close the gap" with the Soviet Union. Reagan has not tried to dictate whether the U.S. should have bigger warheads or how they should be launched. He will make the final decisions on these military matters, but he is above the disputatious process of determining exactly what range of choice the U.S. faces.

James Schlesinger, Secretary of Defense under Nixon and Ford, is convinced that no one who is successful in presidential politics can have the time or energy to understand warfare. That person must rely on others. And a President with only a little knowledge, but with the arrogance to use it, can be dangerous, says Schlesinger. The other side of the coin is that the refusal of a President to use his authority and make hard decisions is also hazardous. Carter, who had a Navy background in nuclear submarines, rarely decided among competing strategies and weapons systems, and thus the U.S. drifted.

"There is never enough money and there are never enough forces for a President to do all he wants," says Brent Scowcroft, Ford's National Security Adviser. Reagan should ponder Scowcroft's rule. A President's task is to set the large priorities, hold firm to them and let his experts work out the rest. It sounds easy, but it will be the biggest battle the Culver City commando has ever fought.

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