Touching Ayub Khan’s arm, she said, “Mr. President, the people in your country are so warm and friendly. Thank you for convincing me to come and visit. It is just wonderful to be here.”
One of the things Mrs. Kennedy had most wanted to do was visit Lahore’s famed Shalimar Gardens, but shortly after arriving at the governor’s residence, the skies opened up with a violent thunderstorm. Mrs. Kennedy took the opportunity to rest, while Agent Rundle and I went to work rearranging the schedule, postponing the visit to the gardens until the next day.
By the next morning, the weather had cleared, and it was going to be a busy day. The schedule called for Mrs. Kennedy to accompany President Ayub Khan to the grand climax of the National Horse and Cattle Show, which was West Pakistan’s biggest social event of the year. When it was first discussed, I had no doubt that Mrs. Kennedy would thoroughly enjoy this—anything that had to do with horses was always at the top of her list—but I had no idea of the surprise President Ayub Khan had planned for her.
Mrs. Kennedy’s entrance to the Horse and Cattle Show was an event in and of itself. Dozens of trumpeters sounded a fanfare as Mrs. Kennedy arrived at the ancient fortress stadium in a gilded, horse-drawn carriage seated next to President Ayub Khan. The president’s elite mounted security force, dressed in bright red military jackets with brass buttons, white jodhpur-type pants, and colorful turbans fashioned high atop their heads, surrounded the carriage in perfect formation, each horse stepping in line with the others.
Satisfied that Mrs. Kennedy was well protected by the presidential security, I watched from the stands, constantly scanning the crowd for anything unusual. The entire audience seemed spellbound by the beaming Mrs. Kennedy, who was wearing an ice-blue long-sleeved silk coat with a matching whimsical beret. As Mrs. Kennedy took her place of honor in the stands, I moved in to be as close but unobtrusive as possible. It was a warm day, and although this was a Muslim country in which the local women dressed conservatively, no one seemed to mind when Mrs. Kennedy took off her coat to reveal a formfitting dress with cap sleeves that exposed her arms and was cut into a deep V that exposed an ample portion of her back.
Sitting with Lee and President Ayub Khan by her side, Mrs. Kennedy watched the spectacular show that was filled with such pomp, ceremony and tradition, it rivaled the show put on by the French during her visit to Paris with President Kennedy the year before. As the red, white, and blue American flag fluttered high above the stands next to the green Pakistan flag with the crescent moon and white star, a huge marching band of bagpipe players and drummers performed along with dancing horses and camels, and mounted troops carrying spears and riding in intricate formations. As specially groomed cattle and show horses of all varieties were paraded in front of the grandstand, Mrs. Kennedy chatted comfortably with the president, who shared her love of horses and animals in general.
Then came the moment of high drama. President Ayub Khan escorted Mrs. Kennedy from the stands onto the grounds, and led her to a beautiful chestnut-colored horse that had been brought out by two of his red-coated guards.
“My dear Mrs. Kennedy, on behalf of the people of Pakistan, I present to you ‘Sardar.’ It is my hope that every time you ride Sardar, you will remember with fondness the time you spent in Pakistan.”
Mrs. Kennedy was stunned. He was beautifully marked, a bay gelding with a diamond-shaped white spot on his forehead, and as she reached her gloved hand up to stroke the horse’s nose, she broke into a huge smile and said, “He is magnificent.”
It was love at first sight. President Ayub Khan explained that he was ten years old, and an award-winning jumper that was a descendant from the horses of Agha Khan. He couldn’t have chosen a more perfect gift for her. As she stood caressing the horse, thanking the president over and over for his thoughtfulness and generosity, all I could think was how the hell are we going to get this damn horse back to Washington?
Clint Hill holds Mrs. Kennedy’s coat as Ayub Khan presents Sardar
There was no time to deal with that problem just yet. After one last spectacular military demonstration on the field, it was time to get Mrs. Kennedy out and on to the next event. Our departure was not going to be as easy as the arrival.
While we had been watching the show, outside the arena hundreds of thousands of people had gathered to see Mrs. Kennedy as she left the horse show. Fortunately we had planned to leave by car rather than horse-drawn carriage. At one point, a group of people became unruly and began fighting among themselves to get a better vantage point as the car approached. I rose up out of the front seat, ready to fend off anybody who got too close to Mrs. Kennedy. However, the police responded to control the people and our driver was able to maneuver us out of the situation with no incident. I looked back to make sure Mrs. Kennedy wasn’t affected by the disruption, and with my eyes I asked, Are you okay?
I could see that she had stiffened up a bit, but as soon as our eyes met, she relaxed and held my gaze as if to say, Thank you.
Along with the press, seven thousand
