‘Mr President, you remember my elder son, Woodrow.’
‘Of course. How’s Harvard, Woody?’
‘Just fine, sir, thank you. I’m on the debating team.’ He knew that politicians often had the knack of seeming to know everyone intimately. Either they had remarkable memories, or their secretaries reminded them efficiently.
‘I was at Harvard myself. Sit down, sit down.’ Roosevelt removed the end of his cigarette from the holder and stubbed it in a full ashtray. ‘Gus, what the heck is happening in Europe?’
The President knew what was happening in Europe, of course, thought Woody. He had an entire State Department to tell him. But he wanted Gus Dewar’s analysis.
Gus said: ‘Germany and Russia are still mortal enemies, in my opinion.’
‘That’s what we all thought. But then why have they signed this pact?’
‘Short-term convenience for both. Stalin needs time. He wants to build up the Red Army, so they can defeat the Germans if it comes to that.’
‘And the other guy?’
‘Hitler is clearly on the point of doing something to Poland. The German press is full of ridiculous stories about how the Poles are mistreating their German-speaking population. Hitler doesn’t stir up hatred without a purpose. Whatever he’s planning, he doesn’t want the Soviets to stand in his way. Hence the pact.’
‘That’s pretty much what Hull says.’ Cordell Hull was Secretary of State. ‘But he doesn’t know what will happen next. Will Stalin let Hitler do anything he wants?’
‘My guess is they’ll carve up Poland between them in the next couple of weeks.’
‘And then what?’
‘A few hours ago the British signed a new treaty with the Poles promising to come to their aid if Poland is attacked.’
‘But what can they do?’
‘Nothing, sir. The British army, navy and air force have no power to prevent the Germans overrunning Poland.’
‘What do you think we should do, Gus?’ said the President.
Woody knew that this was his father’s chance. He had the President’s attention for a few minutes. It was a rare opportunity to make something happen. Woody discreetly crossed his fingers.
Gus leaned forward. ‘We don’t want our sons to go to war as we did.’ Roosevelt had four boys in their twenties and thirties. Woody suddenly understood why he was here: he had been brought to the meeting to remind the President of his own sons. Gus said quietly: ‘We can’t send American boys to be slaughtered in Europe again. The world needs a police force.’
‘What do you have in mind?’ Roosevelt said non-committally.
‘The League of Nations isn’t such a failure as people think. In the 1920s it resolved a border dispute between Finland and Sweden, and another between Turkey and Iraq.’ Gus was ticking items off on his fingers. ‘It stopped Greece and Yugoslavia from invading Albania, and persuaded Greece to pull out of Bulgaria. And it sent a peacekeeping force to keep Colombia and Peru from hostilities.’
‘All true. But in the thirties . . .’
‘The League was not strong enough to deal with Fascist aggression. It’s not surprising. The League was crippled from the start because Congress refused to ratify the Covenant, so the United States was never a member. We need a new, American-led version, with teeth.’ Gus paused. ‘Mr President, it’s too soon to give up on a peaceful world.’
Woody held his breath. Roosevelt nodded, but then he always nodded, Woody knew. It was rare for him to disagree openly. He hated confrontation. You had to be careful, Woody had heard his father say, not to take his silence for consent. Woody did not dare look at his father, sitting beside him, but he could sense the tension.
At last the President said: ‘I believe you’re right.’
Woody had to restrain himself from whooping aloud. The President had consented! He looked at his father. The normally imperturbable Gus was barely concealing his surprise. It had been such a quick victory.
Gus moved rapidly to consolidate it. ‘In that case, may I suggest that Cordell Hull and I draft a proposal for your consideration?’
‘Hull has a lot on his plate. Talk to Welles.’
Sumner Welles was Undersecretary of State. He was both ambitious and flamboyant, and Woody knew he would not have been Gus’s first choice. But he was a long-time friend of the Roosevelt family – he had been a pageboy at FDR’s wedding.
Anyway, Gus was not going to make difficulties at this point. ‘By all means,’ he said.
‘Anything else?’
That was clearly dismissal. Gus stood up, and Woody followed suit. Gus said: ‘What about Mrs Roosevelt, your mother, sir? Last I heard, she was in France.’
