Why the Communists are Winning as of 1976...

Author: William D. Pawley & Richard R. Tryon

Chapter Eighteen
HELPING PATRIOTS IN GUATEMALA

At the President’s request, I called on him the following morning. I informed him that I would accept the assignment to help overthrow the Red regime of Guatemala, on one clear condition. If it were necessary for our country to become directly involved by furnishing supplies, we would stick with the operation until it was successful. The secret, I explained, would eventually “out”, anyway, and the whole world would know of our implication. Our prestige would be on the line. We had two choices. Hands off - or commit ourselves to seeing the operation through to success.
“You’ve got it, Bill,” Ike agreed without hesitation.
A couple of days later, Milton Eisenhower learned that his wife had cancer. He had to withdraw from our venture completely. Walter and I were given offices in the State Department next to those of Henry Holland and held daily sessions, most of them attended either by Allen Dulles or by Frank Wisner of the CIA. All of the CIA’s facilities were placed at our disposal.
We received valuable assistance also from Thruston B. Morton, then Assistant Secretary of State for Congressional Relations, and soon to be a Senator from Kentucky; and from John Peurifoy, ambassador to Guatemala and a key figure throughout the project.
We suffered a damaging blow at the outset when Walter Donnelly was faced with a tough decision. In fairness to his employers at U.S. Steel, he felt it incumbent upon him to inform them of his mission and the certainty of its becoming known eventually. His company answered reluctantly, but realistically, that his usefulness in Latin and Central America might be impaired if he accepted the Guatemala assignment. I didn’t blame him one bit when he placed the welfare of his family first, by declining to participate.
We were able to report to the President that the Castillo Armas movement to overthrow Arbenz merited United States support. Wheels began to turn at once. Our Ambassadors to Central America were kept advised, and were to play a major role in coordinating logistics, training and political relations in the field.
Whiting “Whitey” Willauer was our formidable able ambassador to Honduras during the Guatemala upheaval. He was a Harvard graduate magna cum laude, a star athlete, a master of half a dozen languages including Chinese. He also won an award for saving people from drowning while he was ambassador. Later, on July 27, 1961, Willauer testified concerning the Guatemala action before the Internal Security Subcommittee of the Senate, of which Mr. Sourwine was chief counsel.
Sourwine: “Mr. Ambassador, was there something of a team in working to overthrow the Arbenz Government in Guatemala, or were you alone in that operation?”
Willauer: “There was a team.”
Sourwine: “Jack Peurifoy was down there?”
Willauer: “Yes, Jack was on the team over in Guatemala - that was the principal man; and we had Ambassador Robert Hill in Costa Rica. And we had Ambassador Tom Whelan in Nicaragua, where many of the activities were going on...” (Robert Hill became President Nixon’s able ambassador to Spain, and late, ambassador to Argentina).
Sourwine: “Would you say you were the man in charge in the field in this general area of all these operations?”
Willauer: “I certainly was called upon to perform very important duties, particularly to keep the Honduran Government - which was scared to death about the possibilities of themselves being overthrown-keep them in line so they could allow this revolutionary activity to continue, based in Honduras.”
By way of further background, Castillo Armas had his headquarters in Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras. He was training his forces on the volcanic island of Momotombito in strongly anti-Communist Nicaragua.
Time was of the essence. The Communist President of Guatemala, Jacobo Arbenz Guzman, a character with a squeaky voice and little or no crowd appeal, and a retired Army officer turned pharmacist, had not yet succeeded in infiltrating and establishing Red control over the Guatemalan armed forces. But he was going all out to do so. His spies, called orejas (ears), infested the military. Additionally, he was importing arms from Communist countries in Europe with which he planned to swing the internal balance of power decisively in his favor. Interrogation by torture was the order of the day.
In March, John Foster Dulles and Henry Holland, who led the American delegation to the Tenth Inter-American Conference of the OAS at Caracas, had pushed for a strong anti-Communist resolution directed at Guatemala.
Meanwhile, Castillo Armas was establishing headquarters in key spots in Central America, setting up a communications system and training camps. Recruiting proceeded vigorously. In Central America, Jack Peurifoy and “Whitey” Willauer were working near-miracles to pave the way for a successful counter-operation against the Moscow-nurtured bridgehead for the Reds in Guatemala. The Communist aim was to detach that country from “the imperialist war machine” of the United States. In other words, the Reds wanted to undermine a united front among Latin American countries against the penetration of Communism in the Western Hemisphere. The united front had been sponsored by the American delegation at the conference in Caracas.
2
Our farm at The Plains offered a relaxed setting for a friendly exchange of views with leaders of our Latin neighbors. Edna and I arranged a luncheon at our Virginia home, “Belvoir” on June 13th for a distinguished guest list which included ambassadors from Argentina, Brazil, Colombia, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Nicaragua and Venezuela, plus six United States dignitaries. A week later, we held another, larger luncheon in honor of Assistant Secretary of State and Mrs. Henry Holland, attended by five more key Latin American ambassadors and their wives, and by more than a dozen of our diplomatic and military officials and their wives. It was to prove a wise investment.
By now in charge of liaison for the project, I enjoyed secure and nearly instant communications with the men in the field, and I was able to keep the President closely informed on our progress.
The kettle had come to a boil in May. We learned through intelligence channels that a Swedish freighter had sailed from the Polish port of Stetten bound for Guatemala with a cargo of two thousand tons of Czech arms, consisting largely of such infantry weapons as machine guns and rifles, plus small arms ammunition. The shipment was sufficient to affect drastically the outcome of the power struggle in Guatemala. Interception of the vessel was a “must”, but unfortunately we did not know her name. Working through a British firm in London, the Communists had managed to conceal her charter arrangements.
The Red charter freighter (which turned out to be the M/S Alfhem) following a circuitous course, stopping at Dakar in West Africa, then Curacao, then Honduras, finally Puerto Barrios, Guatemala, successfully evading our interceptor forces.
Thanks to Eisenhower’s basic decision to see this thing through, I was empowered to take the necessary steps to prevent a recurrence. Fresh from a conference with the President, I invited the Chief of Naval Operations to meet me at my State Department office. The upshot was that U.S. Navy units would be stationed in the Caribbean to deny the arrival of all arms shipments to Guatemalan ports.
Henry Holland tried to get our NATO European allies to quarantine arms shipments to Red Guatemala, but both the British and the Dutch, beneficiaries of our open-handed generosity after World War II, loudly protested our search actions.
With “D-Day” at hand, I was convinced that the Castillo Armas forces were in for a beating unless we gave them decisive air superiority, in the form of ten single-engine fighter-bombers recommended by President Luis Somoza of Nicaragua. Allen Dulles considered this modest request to be excessive, stubbornly insisting that three aircraft could do the job.
Based on my experience in the Asian War and in the creation of the American Volunteer Group, I was in full agreement with Somoza. I vividly recalled how the Flying Tigers damaged more than half of their P-40s in training accidents before they even entered combat. I found myself in a heated debate with Allen Dulles, in which I tried but failed to convince him that an underestimation of the aircraft needs of the Guatemalan liberation force could be fatal to the mission. He was adamant, however, and I finally yielded, much against my better judgment, although the final decision was mine.
I had my reasons for not “pulling rank” on Allen Dulles. He had proved himself to be an invaluable member of our team, and his opinions were not to be brushed aside lightly.
Although Castillo Armas was in relatively good shape so far as ground weapons were concerned, I knew he would be heading into the fray with miserably inadequate air support.
With Castillo Armas’ counter-operation imminent, Thruston B. Morton joined President Eisenhower, Allen and Foster Dulles, the JCS and various aides for a White House breakfast. As Morton recalled it, Eisenhower asked those present whether or not they were certain of success. They replied that they were.
“I’m prepared to take any steps that are necessary to see that it succeeds,” Ike continued. “For, if it succeeds, it’s the people of Guatemala throwing off the yoke of Communism. If it fails, the flag of the United States has failed.”
3
Through our virtually instantaneous communications with Central America, we learned that the invasion forces had crossed their “Rubicon” into Guatemala, despite their deficiencies in the air. Castillo Armas encountered stiff and immediate opposition. Although his men were well trained and equipped, progress was slow. At one point, Somoza, who was inspecting an operations map in his war room, inquired:
“What sort of crummy military school did Castillo Armas go to?” The future Guatemalan President Ydigoras Fuentes, who was looking on, replied mildly, “The same one I did.” Actually, Castillo Armas was a graduate of the Escuela Politecnica, the best military academy in Guatemala, and had also spent two years at the U.S. Army Command and General Staff School at Fort Leavenworth.
Two-thirds of Castillo Armas’ “air force” of three planes, P-47 Thunderbolts, were disabled during the first day of combat, causing the invasion to bog down. With growing alarm, Allen Dulles stayed up all night, checking hourly reports. Next morning he burst into my office with the news, if that is the right word, that three more fighter-bombers were needed at once. I resisted the temptation to remind him that I had originally asked for ten. I agreed of course that we must furnish the three additional P-47s.
Allen led the way into Holland’s office, waving the dispatches that had arrived overnight and insisting on three replacement aircraft immediately.
“It’s not quite that simple,” said Holland, who had been boning up on the international legal aspects of the matter. “Originally, they were adequately equipped,” he said. “But now that a civil war exists in Guatemala, we’re bound by treaty not to intervene.”
We all knew Holland’s reputation as an excellent lawyer, and it was pointless to argue. He turned us down flat.
In all the years that I had known and worked with Allen Dulles, I had never seen him lose his cool. Now he hurled his fist full of dispatches to the floor and exclaimed:
“Dammit, I can’t work like this!”
After further sparring with Holland, although we knew we were licked, we accepted his suggestion that we go see Bob Murphy, who was Acting Secretary while John Foster Dulles was out of Washington. Murphy listened patiently while Holland, armed with three law books, stated his case against our involvement in a treaty violation. Allen and I, armed with the stronger case of heading off the probable failure of an operation which the President had told us must not fail, gained ground when Murphy elected to have us take this problem directly to the President.
We were given an immediate hearing. Holland, still armed with his law books, took the floor first but didn’t get very far before Eisenhower interrupted him.
“Henry, put away the law books,” he said. “Let’s discuss this from a practical viewpoint.”
He turned to Dulles, who as head of CIA probably knew more about the actual workings of the operation than anybody else, and asked him what chance Castillo Armas would have if we didn’t replace the planes.
“Nil,” Dulles answered.
“And if we supply them?”
“Perhaps twenty percent.”
Ike turned to me.
“Bill, go ahead and get the planes.”
It was only later that I learned from Eisenhower just how close Allen and I had come to losing our plea, and also gained an insight into his decision-making mystique. Had Dulles given him a “snow job” of a rosy prediction on Castillo Armas’ chances by virtue of the reinforcement of three P-47s, he would have been dubious. But when Allen said, “twenty percent,” it was the clincher that persuaded the President that he was getting a straight, realistic answer.
In Mandate for Change, an account of this episode by Eisenhower merely stated that Dulles and Holland came to see him. He told me that he had deliberately omitted my name because he felt that the practice of mentioning people who held no official position in government could have undesirable repercussions.
4
I raced from the Oval Room to my office, where I asked my secretary to get the Nicaraguan ambassador, Guillermo Sevilla-Sacasa, on the phone. He was not only dean of the diplomatic corps, but a personal friend. I asked him if he could get to my office in a hurry.
“Guillermo, I need your check for $150,000,” I told him. “I’ve arranged with the Defense Department to have a bill of sale ready for the purchase of three aircraft by your government.”
“But Bill,” he said, “I can’t possibly raise that kind of money today.”
“How long, then?”
“Two or three days.”
“That’s too long. I’ll have to advance it to you.”
I asked my secretary to empty my briefcase. Then I called one of the principal officers of the Riggs Bank in Washington and asked him to have $150,000 in cash ready for me to pick up in thirty minutes. Carrying the empty briefcase and accompanied by the Nicaraguan ambassador, I drove down to the bank, placed the bills in my briefcase and headed straight for the Pentagon.
Obviously startled by the unorthodox transaction, the military official on duty nevertheless signed the contract, and transferred title to the Nicaraguan Government. I put through a rush call to the proper number in Puerto Rico, where the planes were alerted for immediate takeoff, and ordered “Go”.
The planes landed at Panama that evening, were turned over to the Castillo Armas pilots, armed and then flown into combat against the Communist positions at dawn. Those three aircraft in the sure hands of eager pilots spelled the difference. Arbenz capitulated. Shortly thereafter, I dined with the President at the White House. Our appetites were excellent.
Subsequently, Ambassador Sevilla-Sacasa wrote me a gracious letter, dated June 19, 1954. Here is its translation:
“Dear Ambassador and friend: I wish to express to you my deepest appreciation, that of my Government and that of President Somoza personally, for the immediate cooperation which you so graciously gave us in the purchase of the three airplanes that my country needed.
“General Somoza is very pleased with them and with the manner in which the transaction was carried out. You are indeed an excellent friend who has always known how to interpret the dangerous times in which America is living, as a consequence of the aggressive politics of International Communism, and has recognized the steadfast friendship of my Government and my President toward your great country.
“With warm regards, I am cordially yours, Guillermo Sevilla-Sacasa”
At this point I shall reveal an absolutely intolerable breach of security during the Guatemalan episode. One week before the invasion was to begin, I had lunch with Phil Graham, the able publisher of the Washington Post, after a game of tennis with him. Graham gave me a complete story of the pending invasion of Guatemala for the overthrow of the Arbenz regime.
“Very interesting,” I said. “I am curious as to whether your story is factual.”
Graham replied that he had played tennis a few days previously with Frank Wisner, chief of covert operations of the CIA, whose tongue had loosened after the game of tennis and a couple of drinks. All that was missing in Graham’s story was my name.
The fact that Wisner (who later committed suicide) was unquestionably loyal and patriotic did not excuse his indiscretion. Wisner’s lapse underlines the strict rule in delicate operations that no one outside the project itself should be informed of it.
5
I felt sure that the President would want to know about a leak of this nature, and I was correct.
“Bill,” he said, “I want you to conduct a thorough investigation of the covert side of CIA operations for me.”
“Sir,” I replied, “For several good reasons, both personal and tactical, I’d rather see someone else head up such a probe. If I head such a committee, I might impair a valuable relationship with John and Allen Dulles. Their doors have always been open to me, and I don’t want to go to the well once too often. I may need to knock again, when it’s even more important.”
“You have a point,” he said. He scratched his ear and came up with an idea.
“Doolittle,” he said. “Why don’t we ask Jim Doolittle to head it up? You can assist him.”
Accordingly, a special group was appointed under a man who had become a national symbol of competent fair mindedness, and a man of total and unquestioned integrity. Doolittle’s team consisted of William D. Franke, Assistant Secretary of the Navy; Morris Hadley, a New York attorney, and me.
With the help of our additional air power, and by the bravery of the Castillo Armas fighting forces, the Communist regime in Guatemala was ousted.
We went ahead with an exhaustive inquiry into the operations of the CIA. We interviewed literally hundreds of witnesses and examined the most secret aspects of CIA operations. The probe corroborated what I had long suspected, that, while Allen Dulles was a brilliant intelligence analyst and practitioner, he had limitations as an executive in charge of one of our largest and most important agencies.
We delivered recommendations in a classified report and filled Eisenhower in personally in even greater detail. What we proposed was not revealed to the public at the time and I have no authority to disclose it even now. My efforts were rewarded by two gratifying letters.
“Dear Bill: Just back in the office and find your letter of November 30th. Thanks. Am very anxious to discuss with you, verbally, the material suggested in the second and third paragraphs of your letter the first time we are in the same vicinity. Don’t wish to do it by letter. Expect to be in Washington the 15th and 16th, back in New York the 20th, 21st and 22nd, and then in New York or Washington the 27th, 28th, 30th and 31st. Please let me know when you are going to be up north again and we will get together.
“It was a real pleasure to work with you, Bill and, as I told you before, without your hard work and sound counsel, our report would have been nowhere as valuable as I feel it is. This note brings every good wish for the Holiday Season and the New Year.
As ever, Jim (J.H. Doolittle).”
There was another letter which I greatly appreciated:
“Dear Bill: To the oral expression of thanks I made previously, I would like to add this note in appreciation of your services as a member of the Committee which surveyed highly important activities of the Central Intelligence Agency.
“Both the report itself and the discussion I was privileged to have with the group when the report was presented here were of unusual value in providing an appraisal and stock-taking of those operations. In particular, they afforded a background against which any further recommendations in this field can be evaluated.
“The preparation of the report involved considerable demands upon your time and effort, and required exceptional qualities of judgment and discretion. I thank you earnestly for your contribution to the security of our country.
“With warm regards, sincerely, (D.D. Eisenhower)”
I had just participated in Guatemala in a successful action, a prelude to a larger drama in which a few years hence I would also play a part. It was to be staged in Cuba. Only this time it would have a tragic ending.

Chapter Eighteen
HELPING PATRIOTS IN GUATEMALA

At the President’s request, I called on him the following morning. I informed him that I would accept the assignment to help overthrow the Red regime of Guatemala, on one clear condition. If it were necessary for our country to become directly involved by furnishing supplies, we would stick with the operation until it was successful. The secret, I explained, would eventually “out”, anyway, and the whole world would know of our implication. Our prestige would be on the line. We had two choices. Hands off - or commit ourselves to seeing the operation through to success.
“You’ve got it, Bill,” Ike agreed without hesitation.
A couple of days later, Milton Eisenhower learned that his wife had cancer. He had to withdraw from our venture completely. Walter and I were given offices in the State Department next to those of Henry Holland and held daily sessions, most of them attended either by Allen Dulles or by Frank Wisner of the CIA. All of the CIA’s facilities were placed at our disposal.
We received valuable assistance also from Thruston B. Morton, then Assistant Secretary of State for Congressional Relations, and soon to be a Senator from Kentucky; and from John Peurifoy, ambassador to Guatemala and a key figure throughout the project.
We suffered a damaging blow at the outset when Walter Donnelly was faced with a tough decision. In fairness to his employers at U.S. Steel, he felt it incumbent upon him to inform them of his mission and the certainty of its becoming known eventually. His company answered reluctantly, but realistically, that his usefulness in Latin and Central America might be impaired if he accepted the Guatemala assignment. I didn’t blame him one bit when he placed the welfare of his family first, by declining to participate.
We were able to report to the President that the Castillo Armas movement to overthrow Arbenz merited United States support. Wheels began to turn at once. Our Ambassadors to Central America were kept advised, and were to play a major role in coordinating logistics, training and political relations in the field.
Whiting “Whitey” Willauer was our formidable able ambassador to Honduras during the Guatemala upheaval. He was a Harvard graduate magna cum laude, a star athlete, a master of half a dozen languages including Chinese. He also won an award for saving people from drowning while he was ambassador. Later, on July 27, 1961, Willauer testified concerning the Guatemala action before the Internal Security Subcommittee of the Senate, of which Mr. Sourwine was chief counsel.
Sourwine: “Mr. Ambassador, was there something of a team in working to overthrow the Arbenz Government in Guatemala, or were you alone in that operation?”
Willauer: “There was a team.”
Sourwine: “Jack Peurifoy was down there?”
Willauer: “Yes, Jack was on the team over in Guatemala - that was the principal man; and we had Ambassador Robert Hill in Costa Rica. And we had Ambassador Tom Whelan in Nicaragua, where many of the activities were going on...” (Robert Hill became President Nixon’s able ambassador to Spain, and late, ambassador to Argentina).
Sourwine: “Would you say you were the man in charge in the field in this general area of all these operations?”
Willauer: “I certainly was called upon to perform very important duties, particularly to keep the Honduran Government - which was scared to death about the possibilities of themselves being overthrown-keep them in line so they could allow this revolutionary activity to continue, based in Honduras.”
By way of further background, Castillo Armas had his headquarters in Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras. He was training his forces on the volcanic island of Momotombito in strongly anti-Communist Nicaragua.
Time was of the essence. The Communist President of Guatemala, Jacobo Arbenz Guzman, a character with a squeaky voice and little or no crowd appeal, and a retired Army officer turned pharmacist, had not yet succeeded in infiltrating and establishing Red control over the Guatemalan armed forces. But he was going all out to do so. His spies, called orejas (ears), infested the military. Additionally, he was importing arms from Communist countries in Europe with which he planned to swing the internal balance of power decisively in his favor. Interrogation by torture was the order of the day.
In March, John Foster Dulles and Henry Holland, who led the American delegation to the Tenth Inter-American Conference of the OAS at Caracas, had pushed for a strong anti-Communist resolution directed at Guatemala.
Meanwhile, Castillo Armas was establishing headquarters in key spots in Central America, setting up a communications system and training camps. Recruiting proceeded vigorously. In Central America, Jack Peurifoy and “Whitey” Willauer were working near-miracles to pave the way for a successful counter-operation against the Moscow-nurtured bridgehead for the Reds in Guatemala. The Communist aim was to detach that country from “the imperialist war machine” of the United States. In other words, the Reds wanted to undermine a united front among Latin American countries against the penetration of Communism in the Western Hemisphere. The united front had been sponsored by the American delegation at the conference in Caracas.
2
Our farm at The Plains offered a relaxed setting for a friendly exchange of views with leaders of our Latin neighbors. Edna and I arranged a luncheon at our Virginia home, “Belvoir” on June 13th for a distinguished guest list which included ambassadors from Argentina, Brazil, Colombia, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Nicaragua and Venezuela, plus six United States dignitaries. A week later, we held another, larger luncheon in honor of Assistant Secretary of State and Mrs. Henry Holland, attended by five more key Latin American ambassadors and their wives, and by more than a dozen of our diplomatic and military officials and their wives. It was to prove a wise investment.
By now in charge of liaison for the project, I enjoyed secure and nearly instant communications with the men in the field, and I was able to keep the President closely informed on our progress.
The kettle had come to a boil in May. We learned through intelligence channels that a Swedish freighter had sailed from the Polish port of Stetten bound for Guatemala with a cargo of two thousand tons of Czech arms, consisting largely of such infantry weapons as machine guns and rifles, plus small arms ammunition. The shipment was sufficient to affect drastically the outcome of the power struggle in Guatemala. Interception of the vessel was a “must”, but unfortunately we did not know her name. Working through a British firm in London, the Communists had managed to conceal her charter arrangements.
The Red charter freighter (which turned out to be the M/S Alfhem) following a circuitous course, stopping at Dakar in West Africa, then Curacao, then Honduras, finally Puerto Barrios, Guatemala, successfully evading our interceptor forces.
Thanks to Eisenhower’s basic decision to see this thing through, I was empowered to take the necessary steps to prevent a recurrence. Fresh from a conference with the President, I invited the Chief of Naval Operations to meet me at my State Department office. The upshot was that U.S. Navy units would be stationed in the Caribbean to deny the arrival of all arms shipments to Guatemalan ports.
Henry Holland tried to get our NATO European allies to quarantine arms shipments to Red Guatemala, but both the British and the Dutch, beneficiaries of our open-handed generosity after World War II, loudly protested our search actions.
With “D-Day” at hand, I was convinced that the Castillo Armas forces were in for a beating unless we gave them decisive air superiority, in the form of ten single-engine fighter-bombers recommended by President Luis Somoza of Nicaragua. Allen Dulles considered this modest request to be excessive, stubbornly insisting that three aircraft could do the job.
Based on my experience in the Asian War and in the creation of the American Volunteer Group, I was in full agreement with Somoza. I vividly recalled how the Flying Tigers damaged more than half of their P-40s in training accidents before they even entered combat. I found myself in a heated debate with Allen Dulles, in which I tried but failed to convince him that an underestimation of the aircraft needs of the Guatemalan liberation force could be fatal to the mission. He was adamant, however, and I finally yielded, much against my better judgment, although the final decision was mine.
I had my reasons for not “pulling rank” on Allen Dulles. He had proved himself to be an invaluable member of our team, and his opinions were not to be brushed aside lightly.
Although Castillo Armas was in relatively good shape so far as ground weapons were concerned, I knew he would be heading into the fray with miserably inadequate air support.
With Castillo Armas’ counter-operation imminent, Thruston B. Morton joined President Eisenhower, Allen and Foster Dulles, the JCS and various aides for a White House breakfast. As Morton recalled it, Eisenhower asked those present whether or not they were certain of success. They replied that they were.
“I’m prepared to take any steps that are necessary to see that it succeeds,” Ike continued. “For, if it succeeds, it’s the people of Guatemala throwing off the yoke of Communism. If it fails, the flag of the United States has failed.”
3
Through our virtually instantaneous communications with Central America, we learned that the invasion forces had crossed their “Rubicon” into Guatemala, despite their deficiencies in the air. Castillo Armas encountered stiff and immediate opposition. Although his men were well trained and equipped, progress was slow. At one point, Somoza, who was inspecting an operations map in his war room, inquired:
“What sort of crummy military school did Castillo Armas go to?” The future Guatemalan President Ydigoras Fuentes, who was looking on, replied mildly, “The same one I did.” Actually, Castillo Armas was a graduate of the Escuela Politecnica, the best military academy in Guatemala, and had also spent two years at the U.S. Army Command and General Staff School at Fort Leavenworth.
Two-thirds of Castillo Armas’ “air force” of three planes, P-47 Thunderbolts, were disabled during the first day of combat, causing the invasion to bog down. With growing alarm, Allen Dulles stayed up all night, checking hourly reports. Next morning he burst into my office with the news, if that is the right word, that three more fighter-bombers were needed at once. I resisted the temptation to remind him that I had originally asked for ten. I agreed of course that we must furnish the three additional P-47s.
Allen led the way into Holland’s office, waving the dispatches that had arrived overnight and insisting on three replacement aircraft immediately.
“It’s not quite that simple,” said Holland, who had been boning up on the international legal aspects of the matter. “Originally, they were adequately equipped,” he said. “But now that a civil war exists in Guatemala, we’re bound by treaty not to intervene.”
We all knew Holland’s reputation as an excellent lawyer, and it was pointless to argue. He turned us down flat.
In all the years that I had known and worked with Allen Dulles, I had never seen him lose his cool. Now he hurled his fist full of dispatches to the floor and exclaimed:
“Dammit, I can’t work like this!”
After further sparring with Holland, although we knew we were licked, we accepted his suggestion that we go see Bob Murphy, who was Acting Secretary while John Foster Dulles was out of Washington. Murphy listened patiently while Holland, armed with three law books, stated his case against our involvement in a treaty violation. Allen and I, armed with the stronger case of heading off the probable failure of an operation which the President had told us must not fail, gained ground when Murphy elected to have us take this problem directly to the President.
We were given an immediate hearing. Holland, still armed with his law books, took the floor first but didn’t get very far before Eisenhower interrupted him.
“Henry, put away the law books,” he said. “Let’s discuss this from a practical viewpoint.”
He turned to Dulles, who as head of CIA probably knew more about the actual workings of the operation than anybody else, and asked him what chance Castillo Armas would have if we didn’t replace the planes.
“Nil,” Dulles answered.
“And if we supply them?”
“Perhaps twenty percent.”
Ike turned to me.
“Bill, go ahead and get the planes.”
It was only later that I learned from Eisenhower just how close Allen and I had come to losing our plea, and also gained an insight into his decision-making mystique. Had Dulles given him a “snow job” of a rosy prediction on Castillo Armas’ chances by virtue of the reinforcement of three P-47s, he would have been dubious. But when Allen said, “twenty percent,” it was the clincher that persuaded the President that he was getting a straight, realistic answer.
In Mandate for Change, an account of this episode by Eisenhower merely stated that Dulles and Holland came to see him. He told me that he had deliberately omitted my name because he felt that the practice of mentioning people who held no official position in government could have undesirable repercussions.
4
I raced from the Oval Room to my office, where I asked my secretary to get the Nicaraguan ambassador, Guillermo Sevilla-Sacasa, on the phone. He was not only dean of the diplomatic corps, but a personal friend. I asked him if he could get to my office in a hurry.
“Guillermo, I need your check for $150,000,” I told him. “I’ve arranged with the Defense Department to have a bill of sale ready for the purchase of three aircraft by your government.”
“But Bill,” he said, “I can’t possibly raise that kind of money today.”
“How long, then?”
“Two or three days.”
“That’s too long. I’ll have to advance it to you.”
I asked my secretary to empty my briefcase. Then I called one of the principal officers of the Riggs Bank in Washington and asked him to have $150,000 in cash ready for me to pick up in thirty minutes. Carrying the empty briefcase and accompanied by the Nicaraguan ambassador, I drove down to the bank, placed the bills in my briefcase and headed straight for the Pentagon.
Obviously startled by the unorthodox transaction, the military official on duty nevertheless signed the contract, and transferred title to the Nicaraguan Government. I put through a rush call to the proper number in Puerto Rico, where the planes were alerted for immediate takeoff, and ordered “Go”.
The planes landed at Panama that evening, were turned over to the Castillo Armas pilots, armed and then flown into combat against the Communist positions at dawn. Those three aircraft in the sure hands of eager pilots spelled the difference. Arbenz capitulated. Shortly thereafter, I dined with the President at the White House. Our appetites were excellent.
Subsequently, Ambassador Sevilla-Sacasa wrote me a gracious letter, dated June 19, 1954. Here is its translation:
“Dear Ambassador and friend: I wish to express to you my deepest appreciation, that of my Government and that of President Somoza personally, for the immediate cooperation which you so graciously gave us in the purchase of the three airplanes that my country needed.
“General Somoza is very pleased with them and with the manner in which the transaction was carried out. You are indeed an excellent friend who has always known how to interpret the dangerous times in which America is living, as a consequence of the aggressive politics of International Communism, and has recognized the steadfast friendship of my Government and my President toward your great country.
“With warm regards, I am cordially yours, Guillermo Sevilla-Sacasa”
At this point I shall reveal an absolutely intolerable breach of security during the Guatemalan episode. One week before the invasion was to begin, I had lunch with Phil Graham, the able publisher of the Washington Post, after a game of tennis with him. Graham gave me a complete story of the pending invasion of Guatemala for the overthrow of the Arbenz regime.
“Very interesting,” I said. “I am curious as to whether your story is factual.”
Graham replied that he had played tennis a few days previously with Frank Wisner, chief of covert operations of the CIA, whose tongue had loosened after the game of tennis and a couple of drinks. All that was missing in Graham’s story was my name.
The fact that Wisner (who later committed suicide) was unquestionably loyal and patriotic did not excuse his indiscretion. Wisner’s lapse underlines the strict rule in delicate operations that no one outside the project itself should be informed of it.
5
I felt sure that the President would want to know about a leak of this nature, and I was correct.
“Bill,” he said, “I want you to conduct a thorough investigation of the covert side of CIA operations for me.”
“Sir,” I replied, “For several good reasons, both personal and tactical, I’d rather see someone else head up such a probe. If I head such a committee, I might impair a valuable relationship with John and Allen Dulles. Their doors have always been open to me, and I don’t want to go to the well once too often. I may need to knock again, when it’s even more important.”
“You have a point,” he said. He scratched his ear and came up with an idea.
“Doolittle,” he said. “Why don’t we ask Jim Doolittle to head it up? You can assist him.”
Accordingly, a special group was appointed under a man who had become a national symbol of competent fair mindedness, and a man of total and unquestioned integrity. Doolittle’s team consisted of William D. Franke, Assistant Secretary of the Navy; Morris Hadley, a New York attorney, and me.
With the help of our additional air power, and by the bravery of the Castillo Armas fighting forces, the Communist regime in Guatemala was ousted.
We went ahead with an exhaustive inquiry into the operations of the CIA. We interviewed literally hundreds of witnesses and examined the most secret aspects of CIA operations. The probe corroborated what I had long suspected, that, while Allen Dulles was a brilliant intelligence analyst and practitioner, he had limitations as an executive in charge of one of our largest and most important agencies.
We delivered recommendations in a classified report and filled Eisenhower in personally in even greater detail. What we proposed was not revealed to the public at the time and I have no authority to disclose it even now. My efforts were rewarded by two gratifying letters.
“Dear Bill: Just back in the office and find your letter of November 30th. Thanks. Am very anxious to discuss with you, verbally, the material suggested in the second and third paragraphs of your letter the first time we are in the same vicinity. Don’t wish to do it by letter. Expect to be in Washington the 15th and 16th, back in New York the 20th, 21st and 22nd, and then in New York or Washington the 27th, 28th, 30th and 31st. Please let me know when you are going to be up north again and we will get together.
“It was a real pleasure to work with you, Bill and, as I told you before, without your hard work and sound counsel, our report would have been nowhere as valuable as I feel it is. This note brings every good wish for the Holiday Season and the New Year.
As ever, Jim (J.H. Doolittle).”
There was another letter which I greatly appreciated:
“Dear Bill: To the oral expression of thanks I made previously, I would like to add this note in appreciation of your services as a member of the Committee which surveyed highly important activities of the Central Intelligence Agency.
“Both the report itself and the discussion I was privileged to have with the group when the report was presented here were of unusual value in providing an appraisal and stock-taking of those operations. In particular, they afforded a background against which any further recommendations in this field can be evaluated.
“The preparation of the report involved considerable demands upon your time and effort, and required exceptional qualities of judgment and discretion. I thank you earnestly for your contribution to the security of our country.
“With warm regards, sincerely, (D.D. Eisenhower)”
I had just participated in Guatemala in a successful action, a prelude to a larger drama in which a few years hence I would also play a part. It was to be staged in Cuba. Only this time it would have a tragic ending.