by Larry Berman
The Chon family had taken refuge in Tay Ninh, where they eluded the new Communist regime until June. Then orders came for all retired officers to report for “reeducation.” Chon was advised to bring rations for one month. His sons took him to report. They would not see one another for seventeen years.21
A few days after the fall of Saigon, the Washington Post broke a story about the secret correspondence between Nixon and Thieu promising to “respond with full force” and “take swift and severe retaliatory action” if North Vietnam violated the agreement. Bud’s longtime friend and ally Senator Henry Jackson seized on the letters, charging that here was evidence that the Nixon administration had misled a foreign government and Congress about the nature of our commitment. Bud not only joined the chorus, but he provided Jackson with inside information on the betrayal of an ally. Bud had been keeping records of the deceit. “Kissinger and Nixon did not level with the Congress as to the commitments that were made,” said Bud. “The Nixon administration must bear a large share of the blame for the fact that Congress failed to honor those commitments that had been made in the name of the country.”22
On April 11, 1976, Bud filed the necessary papers to seek the Democratic nomination for Senate in Virginia. He easily won the Democratic primary against Perry Mitchell, a northern Virginia community college professor. Bud was given little chance against incumbent senator Harry Byrd, Jr. Wherever Bud went in the state, he was “driving down the Harry Byrd highway, flying into the Richard E. Byrd airport, and . . . every city in Virginia south of the Rappahannock River had a ‘Byrd Sanctuary.’ ”
During the primary period, Bud had been successful in raising major contributions from friends and businesses in outside states. Once he was the Democratic nominee, Bud faced two opponents, millionaire Republican Martin Perper and the incumbent, Independent Harry Byrd. Paul Edwards provided a contrast between the Zumwalt and Byrd campaigns. “On only four hours of sleep, the Democrat was shaking hands at a Norfolk shipyard at 6 a.m., and underwent a rigorous question and answer session at Old Dominion University at noon, appeared at a Democratic club in Norfolk at 6 and finished up with a . . . speech to a sparsely attended fundraiser in Newport News. In between appearances, he spent six hours on the telephone in Portsmouth’s bare Democratic headquarters trying to raise enough money through personal appeals to keep the campaign going. On the same day, Byrd made a single speech at the exclusive Country Club of Virginia in Richmond and taped a television interview. He spent no time on the telephone raising money and, according to Byrd’s staff, has never had to make a direct appeal for funds to anyone.”23
Byrd had a lock on most of the big money.24 “My personal funds were limited and the power of Senator Byrd, who served on the Senate Finance Committee, to influence the business community reduced significantly my ability to raise funds in the general election.”25 Bud thought he needed to raise $750,000 to wage an effective campaign against Byrd. In a May 10, 1976, solicitation letter to Paul Nitze, Bud wrote that “I am now the officially certified Democratic nominee and the next objective is victory in the general election on 2 Nov. 1976. If we can keep our momentum (dollars needed) we are confident we can win.” Paul and Phyllis Nitze each immediately contributed $1,000.26
Bud managed to alienate the Democratic National Committee, however. In 1976 John Chafee was the Republican nominee for the Senate from Rhode Island. His Democratic opponent was attacking Chafee for being responsible, as secretary of the navy, for base closings in Rhode Island and neighboring Massachusetts. Chafee insisted that these recommendations had been made after he left office. The DNC contacted Bud to solicit a press release stating that as CNO he could confirm that Chafee had indeed been responsible for the base closings. “I sent back word that I could not do so because it wasn’t true. The next day a rather threatening message from DNC suggested reprisal if I didn’t come through.”27 Bud was so offended by the threat, he issued his own press release that as CNO, he had made the base closure recommendations to John Warner. Bud’s punishment for his “political sin” was that the $5,000 the Senate Democratic Campaign Committee gave to each Democratic candidate was channeled to Independent Harry Byrd.
Bud’s campaign manager, Tim Finchem, tried coaching Bud on how to work a room. This meant shaking a hand, turning away quickly, and moving on to the next handshake. “I found myself too interested in a subject to turn away or too concerned that to do so would hurt the feelings of a shy voter.” When campaigning, he always introduced himself as Bud and seemed to never dodge a question or stop talking.28 When asked about his position on abortion, he refused to give the safe answer. He felt strongly that “abortion is a question for a woman, her conscience, and her God.”29 He often joked that he was “to the left of Byrd on domestic policy and to his right on foreign policy.”30 A Democratic General Assembly member said, “The guy is everywhere, but he leaves no wake.”
Instead of running so much against Byrd, Bud focused on Henry Kissinger. The main message of his campaign became the dangerous decline in the defense position of the United States relative to the Soviet Union, and the post-Watergate incapability to curb Soviet expansion. Bud called for Kissinger’s dismissal and a redirection of foreign policy. The battle with Kissinger had become a very personal one. In December 1975, Bud decided to write President Ford on the crucial issue of SALT I and II and Kissinger’s disingenuousness in critical parts of those negotiations. Noting that the continuing shift in the strategic and conventional force balance to the advantage of the Soviet Union was a cause for grave national concern, Bud urged Ford to ensure that any agreements being negotiated by Kissinger provide for essential equivalence in the strategic force capabilities. “We must, under all circumstances, avoid a repetition of the SALT I experience in which negotiations against a deadline produced technically imprecise agreements which had seriously detrimental effects on U.S. security.”31
Taking dead aim at Kissinger, Bud warned the president that “any agreements reached must be completely drafted and clear on all significant particulars, leaving no room for evasion or circumvention. In addition they should be adequately verifiable by national technical means. . . . Past performance makes it clear that, to continue shifting the strategic balance to its advantage, the Soviet Union can be counted on to exploit every weakness of the structure, language and enforceability of such agreements.” Bud told Ford that it was a matter of the “greatest national importance” that he go public and fully inform the Congress and American public of the deficiencies in SALT I. “I urge your adoption of a policy of frankness in discussing Soviet behavior.”
Bud then released his letter to the media and soon received an anonymous phone call at home, “saying that Kissinger would soon hold a press conference and ‘attack’ Scoop Jackson and me for our SALT charges.” The caller hung up.32 A few days later, Kissinger held the press conference, to attack what he said were falsehoods in Zumwalt’s charges. A few months later, Bud received another anonymous call. He was fairly certain it was the same voice as earlier. “You should know that on at least two occasions recently Kissinger has said to Dobrynin an accident should happen to Admiral Zumwalt.” The caller then hung up.33 Right about the same time, Bud’s sixteen-year-old daughter, Mouzetta, drove home after spending the night sleeping at a friend’s home. She reported being followed by an unmarked car. Bud saw the car driving off, ran to his car, and followed in pursuit. Bud was able to corner the car after the driver had turned into a dead-end street. “I blocked the driveway with my car, got out, and demanded to see the driver’s identification. He showed me identification that indicated he was a security official from the Treasury department.” When confronted, he said that Mouzetta had been driving too fast. Bud had no doubt Kissinger was behind the surveillance. He was also convinced that Kissinger was bugging his home and taping his calls. When going to sleep each evening, Bud would say aloud, “Goodnight, Henry.”34
In Norfolk, Bud characterized the secretary of state as “an evil Chamberlain” w
ho overlooked Soviet violations of SALT I in order to maintain détente. He accused Kissinger of denying key Pentagon officials, congressional leaders, and arms-control negotiators documentation of Soviet violations and of misleading the public.35 “Henry Kissinger doesn’t believe in his own country. He doesn’t think the American people have the will. I’ve heard him say so himself,” said Bud. Not to be outdone, Byrd was more than eager to attack Kissinger, who became a punching bag for both candidates. The Washington Star headline of January 11, 1976—THE KISSINGER FACTOR IN VIRGINIA POLITICS—questioned whether the Virginia senatorial race could be won on the issues of Kissinger’s lies about détente and the Soviet threat.
In an attempt to broaden his national exposure, Bud was invited to deliver the defense plank at the 1976 Democratic National Convention in Madison Square Garden, which nominated Jimmy Carter.36 His platform speech attacked Nixon and Kissinger, saying that their “secretiveness and single-handed policy-making are the ingredients of scandal, not security.”37 Bud was also able to negotiate some of his more hawkish views into the speech in return for endorsing a platform that called for less defense spending and an end to exotic arms systems.38 The concessions to Bud in the defense plank involved a modernized fleet with “production of smaller, less costly warships.” This ended up hurting him in Virginia, where many of Rickover’s ships were built at Newport News Shipbuilding & Dry Dock Company, Virginia’s largest single private employer.
Although Bud proved “indefatigable,” he failed to energize voters.39 In his first and only foray into the arena of electoral politics, Bud Zumwalt won just 38 percent of the vote against a man whose family has held the power in politics in Virginia for most of this century.40 Bud was proud that the race was a model of respectability. About the worst Byrd could say was that his opponent was a “wandering Admiral who had wandered into Virginia to run against him.” Bud’s reply was that he was “a wondering Admiral, wondering why it was that when my Zumwalt ancestors were fighting in Virginia in the Revolutionary war, Colonel William Byrd was a Tory.”
One of those joining the campaign was Douglas Feith, the future undersecretary of defense for policy from July 2001 until August 2005, who helped devise the U.S. government’s strategy for the war on terrorism and contributed to policy making for the Afghanistan and Iraq campaigns. At the time, Feith was a law student at Georgetown University.
I volunteered for Admiral Elmo Zumwalt’s Senate campaign in Virginia. . . . Like his friend Scoop Jackson, Zumwalt was a liberal Democrat who was also hawkish on defense and skeptical of détente. It is rare for a military service chief to win the general public’s attention, but Zumwalt had become a national celebrity—complete with a cover of Time and an interview in Playboy—for championing civil rights for blacks and eliminating what he called ‘Mickey Mouse’ regulation of sailors’ beards, motorcycles, and civilian garb. What made him famous, though, also produced a boatload of enmity for him in conservative navy circles: Virginia was full of retired admirals, and a number of them actively campaigned for his defeat. Zumwalt lost the election resoundingly. It must have been an unpleasant experience for him, but for me the campaign itself was a treat and a boon. Zumwalt had personal traits I found uplifting to watch at close range: honesty, courage, learning, judgment, love of family, love of country, and kindness. I felt eager to write things for him because he was literate and exacting—and, when satisfied, generous with praise. I happily worked with him on speeches, letters, and policy papers, and we continued to collaborate on writing projects for years after the election.41
Following Zumwalt’s defeat, Democratic senator Hubert Humphrey offered words of counsel and advice for the future. “You waged a good campaign. I hope you won’t look upon it as a loss. You should see it as the beginning of a political career. It’s not easy to run against an entrenched political machine, but it can be done. It will take perseverance, however, I know you have that. Be of good cheer. You carried the banner of the Democratic party with dignity and verve. I’m proud of you and honored to be included as one of your friends.”42
Bud would weigh one more foray into the political arena. In 1977 Virginia senator William Scott announced his intention not to seek reelection in 1978. In a June 29, 1977, letter to Paul and Phyllis Nitze, Bud admitted, “I am not obsessed with the idea that I must run. My interest lies in serving the office, not holding it; in bringing about vigorous debate of vital issues facing Virginia and the United States; and in clarifying these issues so that we can all make better choices.”43 Bud thought his chances of winning in 1978 were much better than 1976. “Much has happened since then,” wrote Bud. “I have learned political campaigning. My name is now known in the State, and I would not, in 1978, run against a family institution as I did against Harry Byrd, Jr.”
Bud asked the Nitzes for financial support so that he could commission a private poll to determine the feasibility of moving ahead. By August Bud had the answer. In a “Dear Boss” letter, Bud thanked his mentor for another generous contribution. “Although the results do not warrant making the run, the investment in the poll means that an intelligent decision is to be made and that no other friends will be solicited for a forlorn cause. I look forward to exciting work with you and the Committee [Committee on the Present Danger] in the months ahead.”44 This work also involved moving the Democratic Party toward the center with regard to national security issues in the movement called the Coalition for a Democratic Majority.
Bud had tried convincing Elmo that he should remain in the navy as a career, but his son had his heart set on studying law and getting married.45 Following their wedding at St. Anthony’s Catholic Church in Falls Church, Virginia, Elmo entered law school at the University of North Carolina, and Kathy completed her undergraduate studies at Meredith College. Three years later, in an end-of-year wrap-up letter to the family clan, Bud wrote that “in many respects, 1973 was an exciting year for us for it saw Elmo graduate from law school and enter a fine practice in Fayetteville, North Carolina where he and Kathy are now happily settled in their new home.”46 Elmo and Kathy had taken almost a dozen Vietnamese into their home and supported them until they were able to provide for themselves.
Thirteen years after returning home from Vietnam, Elmo learned of the ticking time bomb inside his body.47 By now, Elmo and Kathy had two children, Maya, age nine, and Russell, age seven. In January 1983, Elmo first started feeling ill, unable to shake a persistent cough. During a physical examination, he reported still jogging a mile a day with no diminished exercise tolerance. A series of tests followed, including a lymph node biopsy that revealed “Stage IV-A nodular poorly differentiated lymphocytic lymphoma.”48 Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma (NHL) had already spread throughout Elmo’s lymphatic system to his spleen, bone marrow, and liver.
As soon as he heard the diagnosis, Elmo thought about his family, about his exposure to Agent Orange as a young naval officer, and about his seven-year-old son, Russell, born with a sensory dysfunction that caused developmental problems. Elmo located each one of the crewmen who had served with him in Vietnam, urging them to get a physical to see if they too had unknowingly been wounded.
Bud immediately grasped the terrible irony that by his own hand his son had been poisoned. “It was a haunting choice,” said Bud. “It is the first thing I think of when I awake in the morning and the last thing I remember when I go to sleep at night.”49 Elmo’s struggle for life spanned five and a half years and involved each member of the family in the search for a cure. In 1986, Bud and Elmo wrote My Father, My Son, recalling their efforts to win the biggest battle of their lives. “Because I have a disease that was probably caused by the military orders of my father, I feel that I have been singled out to tell my story,” said Elmo in explaining his decision to go public.50 They would soon have to deal with the advent of a second form of cancer—Hodgkin’s disease, which was discovered a year after the onset of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
At the time of Elmo’s diagnosis, there were more echoes fro
m Vietnam. Admiral Chon’s son, Truc, who had graduated from Annapolis and had been expecting to rendezvous with his family in Subic Bay, was now a U.S. citizen residing in California. In a letter to Bud, Truc reported that his father was still languishing in prison and there was no word about his condition. The one bit of good news was that “my brother Chanh, his wife and daughter and two of my brothers and sister have escaped from Vietnam by boat. They are now in the Galang Island, Indonesia.” Truc was trying to get the family into the United States, but the Refugee Resettlement Agency was insisting this would take well over a year. He wanted to know if there anything Bud could do to speed up the process.51
Bud did not hesitate, writing his friend John Holdridge, then ambassador to Indonesia, that the immediate family of “my esteemed counterpart in Vietnam, who himself remains in a Hanoi prison,” had escaped Vietnam. Bud asked Holdridge to look into what could be done to expedite the process so they could join their brother in the United States.52 Bud’s intervention did expedite the process. By the end of the year, the family was permitted to enter Thailand and soon thereafter were in California. In a letter to their beloved “Uncle Bud,” Chanh explained that his father had been able to sneak a letter out of prison, telling the family that they should make an effort to escape and be certain the first person they contacted was his friend Admiral Bud Zumwalt. Chon asked that Bud do whatever he could to secure his release from Hell.53
Chanh was overjoyed to have “placed my feet on American soil, the country of freedom.”54 Truc had told Chanh how Bud and the Zumwalt family had provided financial support to “help us get started.” No words could express their gratitude for Bud’s commitment to them, especially in helping them gain employment. Chanh reported that his mother had been allowed to visit her husband, who was “very thin, but well.”55 His mother had filed papers with the ODP (Orderly Departure Program) but would not leave Vietnam without her husband. Truc soon wrote Bud to say they had just heard about Elmo’s illness and were very concerned.56
