THE PRESIDENCY: A Battle Won?

One noon hour last week two slim, trim, pretty girls, with yellow hair and peach-&-cream skin, met in the cafeteria on the roof of Washington's new Social Security Building, lunched together for the first time.

One girl was North Dakota-born Lucille Henricks, 23, secretary to Donald Marr Nelson.

The other was Montana-born Helen Madden, 30, secretary to Leon Henderson. The well-complected girls became friends over the telephone long ago in the constant crisscross of Nelson-Henderson calls. They had reason to decide to get acquainted, as they sat in the green-leather-&-chromium lounge, munched cream cheese and veal sandwiches. They were destined for greater collaboration, like their bosses, who had become, by Presidential order on the night before, the key men in U.S. defense management.

When Lucille and Helen read their papers that morning they felt, as did many another painfully harassed U.S. citizen, that perhaps the U.S. had at last won a great battle at home—a prime requisite to winning the battles abroad that World War II may demand. At long last the President had moved decisively, whipping the vast sprawl of defense management into its first clear sense-making shape, dominated by an authoritative body called SPAB—Supply Priorities & Allocations Board. For the first time the President had delegated real authority, although he still jealously reserved his final say. On the 15-month anniversary of Defense he had at last accepted a way to get everything done that must be done.

Judicious Judge Samuel Irving Rosenman (TIME, Sept. 1) had devised the scheme. His orders from the President were to survey the entire program, to suggest a reorganization which would settle the increasingly louder bickering. "Sammy the Rose," who believes in the efficiency of simpleness, began by calling on all defense chiefs. After a day of calls he would return to his quiet, comfortable White House room, knit his judicial brow, write down the problems to be solved.

Next step was to confer, confer, confer. He saw nearly everyone even remotely connected with defense management; got bales of opinions, advice, ideas, tips, plain and fruity gossip. His regulated mind coldly assayed strengths and frailties, measured promise against performance. Night after night he trotted back to the calm of the White House, puzzled over his notes; through whole days read books, articles, memoranda. He tried to weigh objectives, ponder human values, disregard individual personalities. Finally he drew his conclusions, drafted three plans basically similar.

Judge Rosenman then took his plans back to the defense bosses. So thorough had been his thinking, so deeply prepared were his answers to any objections, there was not a single dissent.

The President returned, brooded over the plans. As always he was reluctant to move, to hurt the feelings of incompetents who must be shuffled out of the way. But the pressure of public opinion was on him crushingly; and the demands for a speedup in U.S. production now circled the world, from Britain through Russia to China. He had a personal reason too: he was heartily sick of the internecine quarrels which necessarily had to be settled over his desk. He decided to sign, and gave to his intimates word that he wanted all the quarrels moved into Henry's room.