Brittain prophesied that “the callous cruelty which has caused us to destroy innocent human life in Europe’s most crowded cities, and the vandalism which has obliterated historic treasures in some of her loveliest, will appear to future civilization as an extreme form of criminal lunacy with which our political and military leaders deliberately allowed themselves to become afflicted.” Brittain’s piece was published in Fellowship, along with an “American Postscript” of support by twenty-eight noted writers and Protestant leaders.*
Vera Brittain’s words unleashed a storm of protest. FDR wrote an outraged rebuke in the New York Herald Tribune, insisting that “their facts are wrong!” Moreover “you cannot talk conciliation. . . . You cannot effect a compromise.” There was nothing to negotiate between the German and Japanese forces of “world-wide death and destruction” and “the philosophy of peace and . . . civilization.”
FDR returned from Hobcaw, and ER reluctantly resolved to spend as much time as necessary with her husband. For the five days after he returned, in May, she stayed with him at Hyde Park. “I must really live in the big house this year,” she wrote Joe. “. . . I’ll never like the big house but suddenly F is more dependent, the children & grandchildren look upon this as home & the cottage is just mine, so I must try to keep this ‘lived in’ & really pleasant! Never from choice would I live here however & never alone.”
Daisy was impressed: ER “is so fine, and so interesting. These are the first two days they have been alone together for years.” In her column, ER rhapsodized about her time in the country. The beauty of spring’s renewal “gave me a particular thrill.” She picked pansies “in my own little border around the cottage, and the lilies of the valley from the bed” planted by my “very dear friend” Esther Lape. “From the porch of my husband’s little cottage and looking down at the country side below, with masses of rhododendron and azaleas in bloom all around, made me almost forget that the world is too sorrowful at present for life to have much zest.”
ER and FDR had a busy and pleasant time together as they rearranged furniture and unpacked the Sixty-fifth Street items ER and Tommy had brought up the week before, including three Persian rugs, “very good orientals,” that FDR wanted at his cottage and in the library. ER, the independent orphan girl, was eager for change, and FDR, the mama’s boy, was eager to keep everything as it was. When FDR was alone with Daisy, he worried that ER intended to get rid of things he wanted. Daisy concluded: “ER would like to make more changes but I think the P wants to keep things as his mother had them, as far as possible.”
From Hyde Park, ER visited Dean Mildred Thompson at Vassar College to hear about the London meeting to establish a United Nations organization for postwar education—ultimately called UNESCO. Chaired by Congressman William Fulbright (D-AR), America’s delegation “was composed of very distinguished men and one woman!” Displeased by the token regard for women on important delegations, ER celebrated in her column the great contributions of women, notably Clara Barton and Florence Nightingale in the creation of the International Red Cross. The world would require women’s vision and energies, and this new UN committee of education was of paramount importance: “we will now have to bend our energies to make education bring about peace.”
With Daisy and Grace Tully, FDR returned to the White House, where he prepared for gallbladder tests. ER did not return with them, and Daisy noted that FDR was easier when she was away. When she was present, “more serious subjects come up . . . and then he gets tense and concentrated again.” Evidently ER sensed FDR’s tensions and spent the next two weeks away on speaking engagements, mostly in New York, Baltimore, and Arthurdale, West Virginia.
As a renewed Blitz rained down on London that spring, thousands of American troops in England prepared to embark upon the long-awaited second front. ER’s thoughts on Memorial Day were solemn: “Was this a war for freedom? . . . Was this a war for justice? . . . Was this a war to bring us peace in the future? Then we must see to it that we learn to cooperate with all the peoples of the world. . . . We must see that justice is done” and not become “exploiters.” “Since we must be strong and we must be free,” ER concluded, “let us pray for wisdom and humility to use our freedom for the seed of humanity.”
ER, FDR, Anna, and John Boettiger were together at the White House for FDR’s 5 June broadcast when Rome fell to American and Allied troops. Citing Rome’s ancient origins, “the foundations of our civilization,” FDR assured the country that the pope and Vatican City were safe, their freedom “assured by the armies of the United Nations. It is also significant that Rome has been liberated by . . . many nations. The American and British armies” had allies at their side: “the gallant Canadians. The fighting New Zealanders . . . , the courageous French and the French Moroccans, the South Africans, the Poles, and the East Indians.” Though victory still lay ahead, Italy would survive and continue “as a great mother Nation, contributing to the culture and the progress . . . of all peoples.”
On 6 June General Eisenhower issued his order launching Operation Overlord, the Normandy landing: “Soldiers, sailors, and airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force! You are about to embark upon the great crusade.” According to Daisy, ER and FDR discussed General de Gaulle’s intentions, then ER “went off with some friends, the Boettigers went to bed, and the P and I worked on some manuscripts . . . when E came in with some correspondence.” Evidently there was little sleep that night. Shortly after midnight, radio broadcasts were interrupted: “The invasion has begun.”
ER’s D-Day column was filled with dread and hope: “So at last . . . all the preparation . . . the endless air raids, the constant practice” of the troops as they readied for landing, and for battle, was all over. It was a column written by a mother with four sons in uniform. With hope and fortitude, we “wait for victory.”
It is hard to believe that the beaches of France, which we once knew, are now places from which . . . boys in hospitals . . . will tell us that they have returned. They may never go beyond the water or the beach, but all their lives . . . they will bear the marks of this day. At that, they will be fortunate, for many others won’t return. This is the beginning of a long, hard fight. . . . Day by day, miles of country must be taken, lost and retaken. . . . How can we hasten [victory]? . . . We can help . . . by doing our jobs better than ever before.
That night, FDR read his D-Day prayer in a radio broadcast: “Last night, when I spoke to you about Rome, I knew that our troops were crossing the Channel in another and greater operation. . . . And so in this poignant hour, I ask you to join with me in prayer:
With Thy Blessing, we shall prevail over the unholy forces of our enemy. Help us to conquer the apostles of greed and racial arrogancies. Lead us to the saving of our country, and with our sister nations into a world unity that will spell a sure peace—a peace invulnerable to the schemings of unworthy men. And a peace that will let all [humanity] live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil.
ER considered it “a good prayer to read and reread in these coming days.”
The next day she went to the Senate Office Building for a moving ceremony where The Black Book of Polish Jewry, a study of what happened to the Jews of Poland, was presented to Senator Robert Wagner and members of Congress. “I hope that many people will see this book. The pictures speak more vividly than the written word. It is a horrible book, a book which explains the terrible . . . martyrdom of the Jews in Warsaw, and makes one ashamed that a civilized race anywhere in the world could treat other human beings in such a manner.”*
Finally on 12 June 1944, after weeks of lobbying by Henry Morgenthau and his team, the president signed his executive order to bring a thousand refugees from Italy to America’s only refugee haven, the army camp in Oswego, New York. Since the Department of the Interior was in charge of the camp, Ickes appointed noted journalist Ruth Gruber to undertake the rescue. Promoted to a “simulated” general, she lef
t for Italy on 15 July, then returned from Naples on the Henry Gibbins in August—with 982 Jewish and Christian refugees.
• • •
ER made every effort to persuade FDR to publicly support Henry Wallace to continue as vice president on the 1944 ticket. She understood from Hick that the new party leaders, led by city bosses, were eager to replace Wallace with contenders whom the two women regarded as centrists or worse. As early as March, Hick wrote of a great push for Senator Harry Truman (D-MO). He had worked as chair of the Senate special committee to investigate war industries, and to limit corruption and corporate greed. But he was associated with Thomas Pendergast’s Kansas City machine, and others considered him a border state ally of Dixiecrat Democrats.
On 6 July, FDR told Henry Morgenthau that, “ER is trying to force him to insist on Wallace for Vice President.” But FDR and Morgenthau agreed on an “open Convention” with the party leaders in charge and in “good humor.”
With many decisions still to be made, FDR asked his wife to join him for the preconvention. As ER boarded the presidential special headed for San Diego, California, she harbored a lingering hope that FDR would endorse Wallace. She agreed with Trude’s observation, “Labor is firmly for Wallace, so are the Negroes.” Wallace, like ER, supported taking real steps toward racial justice. The NAACP’s Crisis quoted him as saying: “The future belongs to those who go down the line unswervingly for the liberal principles. . . . There must be no inferior races. The poll tax must go. Equal educational opportunities must come. The future must bring equal wages for equal work regardless of sex or race.”
Aboard the train, FDR’s attitude disturbed and puzzled ER. She wrote a column to support Wallace, “but F says I must hold it till after the convention,” she wrote to Joe. “I wish I were free.” On 16 July in Chicago, Hannegan boarded the train seeking a written commitment from FDR for Truman or Douglas. FDR chose to meet with Hannegan alone, without ER. Annoyed, she wrote Hick, “Hannegan came to see F. at the Chicago station & I gathered after he left that a conservative would be the next VP. I’m sorry because I think it is bad politics not to stick to Wallace as well as disloyal but I never would be any good in politics!”
“I don’t know that I’m being useful on this trip as there is nothing to do,” she confessed to Trude. “FDR sleeps, eats, works & all I do is sit through long meals which are sometimes interesting & sometimes very dull.” She and Tommy “played some gin rummy,” and ER was proud to be “a bit ahead.” But as always when ER was sidelined, she was bored, and angry. FDR wrote a public letter regarding Wallace and refused to show it to her. It was, she feared, merely tepid, as she told Joe: “I am no politician but I think he could have had Wallace & been as strong as he will be if they put a conservative on the ticket.” After Hannegan left, she noted that “Jimmy Byrnes seemed to be gaining strength, which from my point of view is deplorable.” Always the strategist, FDR did not tell his wife that he and Hannegan had agreed to support Truman, not Byrnes.
At the convention, race was an immediate issue because of the ongoing cruelties that segregated men and women of color in uniform faced. In the days just before the convention, a series of violent racial attacks occurred. On 8 July a white bus driver in Durham, North Carolina, “shot and killed a Negro soldier in cold blood.” The NAACP believed that that shot for white supremacy might defeat FDR. For all his sonorous phrases, FDR “and his War Department have done absolutely nothing about the treatment of the Negro in uniform. It is a disgrace which stinks to heaven. . . . [People ask] ‘What is a Commander-in-Chief good for if he cannot stop the humiliation and murder of soldiers in uniform by ignorant and prejudiced civilians”? Respect and safety must be ensured. “Segregation in the armed forces should be abolished forthwith.”
Then, on 17 July, a hideous accident revealed the routinely dangerous and dreadful work that navy officers of color performed. At Port Chicago in San Francisco, hundreds of sailors performed the work of loading live ammunition onto warships and merchant ships bound for the Pacific theater. They were made to work countless hours, without protection or training, under the most dangerous conditions. On 17 July some of the munitions detonated, and the blast caused a chain reaction that killed 320 sailors and injured 390. “There has been a horrible explosion in San Francisco Bay,” ER wrote Joe, “with hundreds of men killed.”*
When the train reached San Diego, ER visited her son James, as well as her son John’s wife, Anne, and their daughters, Haven and Nina. With James she toured the naval hospital and visited Colonel Evans Carlson, who was among the fifteen thousand dead or injured in the decisive U.S. victory at Saipan. ER spent several hours with her friend Tiny Chaney, who was “dancing in a little theatre in Hollywood.” ER wrote Anna that she most looked forward to returning to Hyde Park, which “has spoiled me for these trips when I feel I’m not doing much good!”
The convention opened, and Wallace made a fighting speech to second FDR’s nomination. ER hoped the enthusiastic rally that followed would result in a Wallace “miracle.” But the bosses who controlled the convention demanded an immediate adjournment. By morning, the ballots were ready for Harry S. Truman as the candidate for vice president. At least, to ER’s relief, it was not James Byrnes. The NAACP concluded, “Wallace did not lose at Chicago; the Democratic party and the plain Americans lost. The big machine bosses would not let the people have Wallace.”
On 20 July, FDR broadcast his acceptance speech from his train, which was stationed at the San Diego naval base. He promised “progressive leadership” and specified plans for the future: “What is the job before us in 1944? First, to win the war. . . . Second, to form worldwide international organizations . . . to make another war impossible. . . . And third, to build an economy . . . which will provide . . . decent standards of living” for people “at home and abroad.”
Pleased by her husband’s words, ER resolved to concentrate on plans for the United Nations. The next day FDR sailed aboard the USS Baltimore for a three-week trip to meet with Admirals William Halsey, William Leahy, and Chester Nimitz, and General Douglas MacArthur, in the Pacific. Just before he sailed, true to his pattern before undertaking a long journey, he wrote to ER an ameliorative note: “Dearest Babs . . . It was grand having you come out with me—and the slow speed was a good thing for us both. Lots of love—back soon. Devotedly F.”
On 24 July ER published her long-delayed column on Henry Wallace. “There is integrity and pride” in Wallace’s history and essence. He had learned Spanish to contribute to our Good Neighbor policy; spoke Russian in Siberia, and Chinese in China. The “people of the United States owe him our deepest gratitude” for his work which has “made it easier for us to build enduring friendships.” FDR had promised Wallace any other job he wanted, and she hoped her column might be useful for the administration’s most progressive liberal—after the election.
ER frequently declared that she was no politician, but she was determined to use her influence and power on behalf of her husband’s reelection campaign against the Republican candidate, Governor Thomas Dewey. She did everything she could to advance his chances, traveling and substituting for him as needed.
On 10 August she wrote one of her most radical columns, counseling Americans to choose candidates “who think first of people, and only second of things.” Big business and small businesses were important, she acknowledged. But greed and materialism had to be replaced by full employment, training, and planning to “advance the people’s interests.”
In several columns she emphasized the need to change the entire educational system to ensure not only literacy but popular empowerment. She called for a “year of extra training beyond high school” for skilled work to improve everybody’s “standards of living.” And why should higher education not be free? she asked. Why should girls not be included? Some protested that such plans were Communist or fascist or somehow un-American. ER considered “the shriek” against free education and univers
al training “incomprehensible” and undemocratic.
On 4 August she went to Boston for Missy LeHand’s funeral. Her death, she wrote FDR, “was sad, but for her a release.” Her column paid tribute to LeHand’s “valiant and important job” and expressed admiration for “the way in which she bore the last few years of illness.”
Above all, ER was hopeful about the 21 August opening of the Dumbarton Oaks Conference in Georgetown, where U.S., British, and Soviet delegates—subsequently joined by China—met to plan the new world organization, the United Nations.* Governor Dewey protested that the Big Four intended to “subject the nations of the world, great and small, permanently to [their] coercive power.” That would be, he insisted, “immoral and imperialistic.” ER, dismayed, had warned her husband about Big Four dominance months before but now she urged him to counter Dewey’s protest. FDR compromised, giving John Foster Dulles, Dewey’s primary adviser, observer status, and thereby removed the controversy from the campaign.
The Big Four were divided profoundly over the UN and plans for peace, so a series of further meetings was arranged. The first one would be held in Quebec in September, with Churchill. This time FDR invited ER to join him. At first she was delighted, but was soon dismayed to realize that the women were sidelined, with nothing to do. Neither she nor Clementine Churchill was invited even to listen to the discussions. “The ladies have no duties,” ER wrote Trude, “so I’m being lazy and luxurious. I have breakfast in bed but it does not appeal to me much except it is a good time to read!” She wrote Elinor Morgenthau: “It seems such a waste of time. The ladies’ duties are all social & it would be boring except for the meals with a few people when the PM and F are entertaining.”
Eleanor Roosevelt, Volume 3 Page 63
