Four to Go

(2 of 2)

Four to Go. The State Department, in a matter of minutes, began quaking at such boldness. When the shock waves hit Western Europe, newspapers blazed with headlines. Did this mean that Douglas MacArthur could drop the atomic bomb whenever he felt like it? No, no, no, said the White House in a formal statement three hours later. Under the law, only the President may authorize use of the bomb, and "no such authorization has been given."

But Britain's Prime Minister Clement Attlee could still feel the ground shaking. He swiftly took the pulse of his cabinet and his opposition, and decided to hustle off to Washington for a personal conference with the President. From the U.S. embassy in London came an urgent query: Could Clem Attlee fly over? Secretary of State Acheson got on the private wire to the White House. Fifteen minutes later he cabled back one urgent word: "Agree."

Harry Truman, his pearl grey Stetson conspicuous among the diplomatic Homburgs, was on hand at Washington's National Airport 22 minutes before Attlee arrived. A freezing wind whipped at the heavy, dark blue presidential overcoat. "This is London weather," he commented to Dean Acheson. "He ought to feel at home." Mr. Truman had a cheery greeting for India's Madame Ambassador Pandit, but turned away to talk football to the security guard.

Finally Attlee's Boeing Stratocruiser set down gently on the runway. The door opened; Attlee plunged down the steps to give Harry Truman's hand a vigorous shake. Later that day, across a long table in the White House cabinet room, they began their crucial conferences.