with us. –Morgenthau again. The British agreed to sell all their investments here to give us their remaining dollars, and Morgenthau told Congress they would, and now the British are dragging their feet. There’s ever so much more. That’s part of one day’s basketful, old chap. I mean, a historian would certainly find a cross section like that interesting, wouldn’t he? I had a check made on the papers of Wilson and Lincoln. Nothing like it ever turned up. I am definitely going to do it one day.”
Roosevelt coughed long and hard, closing his eyes, wincing, and putting a hand to his back. The gesture threw him off balance in the swaying train, and the large body began to topple over like a tipped barrel. Victor Henry jumped to steady his shoulder, but the President’s long powerful arm had caught an edge of the bed. “Thanks, Pug. This train isn’t supposed to go more than thirty-five miles an hour. They’re shading it up there.” He rubbed his back. “I get a stabbing pain when I cough, but Doc McIntyre assures me it’s a pulled muscle. Just so it isn’t pleurisy! I really can’t afford pleurisy right now. I’d better have more of that cough medicine. Would you hand me that spoon and that bottle with the red stuff? Thank you, old fellow.” The President took a spoonful of the medicine, making a face. Tilting his large head to one side in the way all the nightclub clowns imitated, Roosevelt fixed the Navy captain with a sharp look from bloodshot eyes. “Pug, the U-boats keep working westward with this new wolf-pack tactic. The sinkings are outrunning the combined capacity of our yards plus the British yards to build new bottoms. You’re aware of that.”
“I’ve been hearing plenty about it at our conferences, sir.”
“You accept the British figures of sinkings?”
“Oh, yes, Mr. President.”
“So do I. The minute Lend-Lease passes, we’ll be sending out a vast shipment of stuff. Now, none of that stuff must land on the ocean floor instead of in England. That’s terribly important.”
Roosevelt’s offhand remark about Lend-Lease surprised Victor Henry, who was deeply worried, as the British were, about the violent debate in the Senate. “You think Lend-Lease will pass, sir?”
“Oh, the bill will pass,” said the President absently. “But then what? Seventy ships are standing by now to be loaded. This shipment simply cannot be scattered and sunk by the U-boats, Pug. The British need the stuff. They need even more the morale boost of seeing it arrive. The problem is getting it through as far as Iceland. From there the British can simply convoy them, but not from here to Iceland. They’re simply stretched to the breaking point. Well? What do we do?
Victor Henry said uncomfortably, under the President’s questioning gaze, “Convoy, sir?”
The President heavily shook his head. “You know the answer on that, Pug, as of this moment.”
In the Lend-Lease fight, the issue of convoying was red-hot. The Lacouture group was screaming that if Lend-Lease passed, the warmongers would next demand to convoy the ships that carried the supplies and that convoy meant immediate war with Germany. The President was publicly insisting that American policy would not change in the Atlantic: “neutrality patrol,”
Roosevelt’s grim flushed face creased in the sly mischievous look that was becoming familiar to Pug. “I’ve been thinking, however. Suppose a squadron of destroyers went out on an exercise? Not convoying, you understand. Not convoying at all. Just practicing convoy
“Discouraged, yes. Still, what happens will depend their instructions, Mr. President.”
“They’ve got instructions not to tangle with our warships,” Roosevelt said, sounding and looking very hard. “That’s obvious.”
Victor Henry’s pulse was quickening. “They’ve never encountered our destroyers in a convoy screen, sir. Suppose a U-boat closes and fires a torpedo?”
“I don’t believe it will happen,” Roosevelt said shortly. “The ships may never even be sighted by the Germans before the British take over the convoy. The North Atlantic weather’s atrocious now. And most of the U- boat action is still on the other side of Iceland.” He was fitting a cigarette in his holder as he spoke. Victor Henry swiftly snapped his lighter and offered a flame. “Thanks. This is against doctor’s orders, but I need a smoke. Pug, I want this thing done, and I’m thinking you might handle it and go out with the destroyers.”
Captain Henry swallowed his astonishment and said, “Aye aye, sir.”
“It’s very much like that airplane transfer, which you handled so well. Everything depends on doing it in the calmest, quietest, most unobtrusive way. The point is to make no records, and above all no history, but simply to get those ships silent and safe as far as Iceland. Can it be done?”
The Navy captain sat hunched for perhaps a minute, looking at the President. “Yes, sir.”
“With an absolute minimum of people in the know? I haven’t even discussed this thing with Harry Hopkins.”
“Admiral Stark and Admiral King would have to know, of course, sir. And Commander, Support Force, and the officer in tactical command of the screen. Everybody else in the exercise will just obey orders.”
Roosevelt laughed and puffed at his cigarette. “Well! If you can keep it down to three admirals and one other officer, that will be swell. But a lot of personnel will take part in this exercise. There’ll be talk.”
Victor Henry said stonily, “Not very much.” Franklin Roosevelt raised his bushy eyebrows. “Mr. President, what do we do if a U-boat does attack? I agree it’s unlikely. But suppose it happens?”
Roosevelt regarded him through wreathing cigarette smoke. “This is gamble that it won’t happen.”
“I know that sir.”
“You understand that a combat incident destroys the whole purpose,” the President said, “and you know the other implications.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now tell me,” said the President, in a much milder manner, “What do you honestly think of the idea? It’s my own. If you think it’s bad, say so, but tell me why.”
Sitting forward hunched, elbows on his knees, ticking off points with an index finger against his other hand, Victor Henry said, “Well, sir — to begin with, those U-boat fellows may never see us, as you say. If they do, they’ll be surprised. They’ll radio for instructions. We may run into a trigger-happy type, but I doubt it. I know those German submariners. They’re excellent professional officers. This is a policy decision that will have to go up to Hitler. That’ll take time. I think the ships will get through without incident, Mr. President.”
“Grand!”
“But it’ll only work once. It’s a policy surprise. It’s too risky to repeat.”
Roosevelt sighed and nodded. “That’s it. The whole situation is terrible, and some kind of risk has to be taken. The British say that before the next big convoy goes, they’ll have many damaged destroyers back in action. We’re also giving the Canadians some coast guard cutters — in confidence, Pug — to help close this gap to Iceland. It’s this first Lend-Lease shipment that is crucial.” The President gathered up the papers stacked around on his blanket. “Would you put these in that case?”
As Victor Henry was closing the dispatch case the President said through a yawn, using both arms to ease himself down into the bed, “How have those conferences with the British been going?”
“Excellently, on the whole, Mr. President.”
The President yawned again. “It was so important to start this pattern of joint staff work. I’m very happy about it.” He snapped off his bed lamp, leaving the room dimly lit by recessed lights in the walls. “They’ve been giving you some trouble about Singapore, haven’t they?
“Actually we just put that issue aside, sir. There was no resolving it.”
“You can turn out the lights, Pug. The button’s by the door.”
“Yes, sir.”
One blue light, and the President’s cigarette end, still glowed in the darkness. His voice came weary and muffled from the bed. “We’ll run into that time and again. They want to hold onto their empire, naturally. But the job is to beat Hitler. Those are different undertakings. They’ll insist to the end that they’re one and the same. Well — we’ll chat again about that
“Aye aye, sir.”
“And when you come back from that little sea jaunt — which you ought to enjoy, for a change, — I want you
