Zumwalt

by Larry Berman

  In November 1996, Bud took a first stab at highlighting these enduring strategic realities for the president.119 Bud suggested that the new vision should address the challenges and opportunities of the twenty-first century and their implications for the shaping of our military capabilities. “The increasing likelihood that terrorist actions involving biological weapons can be used against our population can be prepared [for] only by your personal involvement because such readiness requires government-wide coordination.” Bud advocated a vision that “should highlight America’s enduring strategic realities, such as: America is an island continent on an ocean planet. Seventy-five percent of the planet’s population lives within a few hundred miles of a seacoast. Most economies, especially our own, rely upon the sea. To shape our global environment, and to protect our citizens and interests, we must project America’s power and influence overseas. These foregoing factors have led to the free world alliances, which have linked NATO nations and the Pacific rimland nations to the U.S. with many interests in common. To nourish these common interests, while access to overseas bases is declining and international stability continues, presages a growing need for the forward presence of U.S. forces. The prospect of terrorism grows greater and the capability of rogue nations to support terrorists with nuclear, chemical and—most easily—biological threats increases.”

  Bud wanted the president to understand that “your second term will present an historical opportunity to shape anew a national security vision for the 21st Century and to shape the armed forces of the next century. Both efforts will require your personal involvement to succeed, but both can provide America with a lasting legacy of your Presidency. Indeed, you have a once-in-a-generation opportunity to make significant changes in defense/security policy, and I urge you to take advantage of it. A unique opportunity is at hand, and I am eager to assist you in any way I can.”120 Bud’s loyal marine aide, Colonel Mike Spiro, believed that “if you peel layers away from Bud and Clinton, they are very much alike. Both men had the courage to tackle big issues in the public arena and a willingness to fight their enemies.”121

  By early October 1988, Bud had learned from Dick Schifter that Chon was finally at the top of the list for emigration to the United States, but the Vietnamese kept dragging their heels until 1990, when Chon received authorization to leave.122 “Finally, the Communists have allowed him to leave Vietnam,” an ebullient Truc wrote to Bud. “He, my mother and my sister have received their exit visas.”123 Yet again, the release was delayed. A year later Dick Schifter wrote to say that Chon’s name was not on the most recent list.124

  On December 9, 1992, a large crowd was assembled in San Francisco International Airport, awaiting the arrival of a flight carrying some four hundred refugees, including Admiral Tran Van Chon and his family. At a nearby hotel Bud waited for Chon to work his way through immigration processing, wondering what effects the brutal imprisonment had had on the man Bud considered a brother, who had taught him to love Vietnamese culture and the Vietnamese people. One hour later, upon completion of the immigration paperwork, the admiral appeared with a happy smile, looking at everyone carefully, trying to identify each person whom he had not seen for over seventeen years. People were dumbfounded when they found that he looked unchanged, except for his shoulder-length white hair. He was emotionally embracing his children and grandchildren and shaking the hands of his friends. A few hours later Chon was with Bud, his “personal political hero.”125 Tears trickled down their faces. Chon’s journey from hell was over. Bud had made a difference. When once asked how he would like to be remembered, Bud answered, “someone who cared.”126

  In January 1998, Bud was one of fifteen Americans honored by President Clinton to receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom. With his wife, three children, and five of his grandchildren in the audience, Bud watched as the other recipients were escorted by a military aide to the stage, where the president and Mrs. Clinton stood. Another military aide read the citation and the president placed the Medal of Freedom on its blue and white lanyard around the recipient’s neck. For some reason, when Bud’s turn came, the military aide had not come as promptly as he had for the other recipients. The president seemed to be approaching the end of his remarks, and Bud decided not to wait any longer. Unlike the solemn procession of the other recipients, Bud’s walk to the stage was rapid and unescorted. The president was so amused that he joked, “What’s the matter, Admiral; did you think I might change my mind?”

  Having introduced some levity into the program, Admiral Elmo R. Zumwalt, Jr., proudly accepted the award and the citation: “In both wartime and peacetime, Elmo Zumwalt has exemplified the ideal of service to our nation. A distinguished veteran of World War II and Korea, he served as Commander of U.S. Naval Forces in Vietnam and rose to become the Navy’s youngest chief of Naval Operations in 1970. As CNO, he worked vigorously to improve our sailor’s quality of life and devoted himself to eliminating discrimination in the Navy. In a life touched by tragedy, he became a great champion of veterans afflicted by ailments related to service in Vietnam. For his dedication, valor, and compassion, we salute Bud Zumwalt.”

  Following the ceremony, Bud wrote a personal letter to the Clintons, thanking both for “the grace and dignity of your presentation and by the warmth of your personal greeting to all of us.” Bud was always going to cherish the moment and memory. “Notwithstanding the separation which the presidency must require, my family and I consider the two of you to be dear friends.”127 The president had much earlier confided similar sentiments. “Hillary and I have greatly enjoyed your and Mouza’s friendship, and I have benefited from your wise counsel.”128

  In 1998 President Clinton appointed Bud to serve as a member of the Special Oversight Board for Department of Defense Investigations of Gulf War Chemical and Biological Incidents, chaired by Warren Rudman. Bud passed away three months before the report was completed. On April 4, 2000, at a board meeting held at the White House Conference Center, the board passed a motion dedicating their final report to “the memory of Admiral Elmo ‘Bud’ Zumwalt, Jr. He was a patriot and a gentleman.”129

  Six months after Bud Zumwalt’s death, on July 4, 2000, aboard the carrier USS John F. Kennedy anchored in the Hudson River, President Clinton announced that the navy would honor Bud Zumwalt by naming the twenty-first-century land-attack destroyer (DD21, now DDG-1000) after his friend. The USS Zumwalt “will be a platform that values its crew more than any other ship on which sailors have ever lived, fought, and worked,” said Secretary of the Navy Richard Danzig. “It is a fitting tribute to the legacy of Admiral Bud Zumwalt.”

  Six months after President Clinton’s announcement, Mouza returned to Hilton Head, South Carolina, during the December 2000 Renaissance gathering. She came to thank her friends for their thoughts, notes, and prayers during Bud’s illness. “I am not here to give a speech,” said Mouza. “I am standing here in front of you, as a widow of a remarkable man with a great mind and sensitivities, Bud Zumwalt. He did not have any limitation of love for all peoples of every race and creed. The valedictory speech, which he gave at his high school graduation as a seventeen-year-old young man, gives us some insights into his heart and mind: “We stand at the threshold of a new world. With the light hearts of youth, with the joy of righteous struggle, we shall plunge into the intangible wilds, resolving that courage, eagerness and intelligence—the heritage from a pioneer past—shall continue the progressive civilization of our America.”

  Just two years earlier, Bud had written the president on the topic of operational flexibility and the global reach of sea power that characterized his foreign policy and national security vision, perhaps more than that of any other peacetime president. Like President Teddy Roosevelt’s Great White Fleet, which signaled America’s entry onto the world stage, Clinton’s reliance upon naval forces ensured that the United States was ready to enhance security, bolster prosperity, and promote democracy in the new millennium. But the country and the navy were at a critical
stage. The president could not afford to be distracted by anything. “I strongly urge that you find time to work with Secretaries Cohen and Dalton and Admiral Jay Johnson to add the resources ($5 billion per year above currently programmed levels in my judgment) which will lay the foundation for the 21st Century Navy—the ships, aircraft, weapons systems, and especially the people—that will be the sine qua non for America’s continued greatness in the decades to come.”130

  The tribute to Bud Zumwalt came close to being scuttled when an effort was undertaken by a group of retired admirals and other opponents to prevent naming the new class after “that man.” There had been some opposition when the DD-21 (21st Century Destroyer) was first announced, but in 2003 as part of broad budget reductions, the DD-21 was going to be pared down and resignated DDG-1000. Opponents used the redesignation phase to argue that the name should be changed. Rear Admiral Charles Hamilton, who was Program Executive Officer for Ships (PEO Ships), recognized the historical significance of the moment. Hamilton had been in the pews at Bud’s memorial service and aboard the Kennedy when President Clinton made the announcement. He had been a strong proponent of naming the DD-21 after Zumwalt because having a name attached always helped it survive the budget process, but in this case Hamilton had always admired Bud for “lancing the boil that forced us to re-examine race.” A meeting was called of all the principals, including those representing “voices” of the past. Hamilton told the assembled group that changing the name was dishonorable. Taking his ID card from his pocket and placing it onto the conference room table, he said that if the name was changed, he could no longer serve and “they needed to find a new guy.” If Hamilton was going to be rolled, he would do so with his dignity intact. The response from the group was that Hamilton should remain to oversee construction of the DDG-1000 Zumwalt class.

  Several years later on November 18, 2011, Rear Admiral Hamilton was understandably jubilant on the occasion of the keel-laying ceremony of the USS Zumwalt,131 Former president Clinton sent a letter that was read by Mouzetta to those hundreds of people assembled at Bath Iron Works in Bath, Maine. “I couldn’t then, and can’t now, think of anyone better than the late Admiral Elmo ‘Bud’ Zumwalt to be its namesake. Its technological advancement reflects Admiral Zumwalt’s commitment to modernizing the U.S. Navy; the unprecedented level of integration in its power system reminds us of his own integration efforts in making the Navy one of the most color-blind institutions in America; and the high quality of life it will offer is a fitting way to honor a man who called himself not the former Chief of Naval Operations, but a former sailor. He believed deeply in a strong Navy worthy of our great nation, and that anyone who chose to serve in it was deserving of respect and dignity. Even after retirement, Bud and his wonderful wife, Mouza, advocated vigorously for men and women in uniform. I was proud to present him with the Presidential Medal of Freedom in recognition of his lifetime of service, and I will always be grateful for the blessing of his friendship. . . . May the future sailors of this magnificent ship find inspiration in Admiral Zumwalt’s legacy of honorable service, physical bravery and moral courage, and character and conscience.”132

  On a warm July day in 2003, the eighty-three-year-old Vietnamese admiral walked slowly through the cemetery at Annapolis, his long white hair flowing over his shoulders. Chon had come to the hilltop cemetery to honor his friend.133 “I loved him like a brother and I know that he felt the same way.” Chon had been unable to attend Bud’s memorial service because of his wife’s health. On this day, he had come to thank his friend who was not forgotten.

  At his age, Chon was aware this was his final opportunity to thank Bud for all he had done, but his thoughts were also focused on a dream he had had the night before Bud had passed away. He and Bud were navigating together aboard a double-hull ship. The ship landed in a remote area, and Bud opened the door and went out for a few seconds. He returned with a large strange fish that hung from his chest to his feet. Its head looked like a dragon. “He waved his other hand as a sign of goodbye and disappeared from view.” Chon interpreted the dream as symbolizing that Bud was king of the sea and he now had returned to his realm for command of the oceans.134

  Chon saluted his friend with the words, “Fair winds and following seas and long may your big jib draw!”

  CHRONOLOGY OF THE CAREER OF ADMIRAL ELMO R. ZUMWALT, JR., USN

  1939: Entered United States Naval Academy, Annapolis

  1942: Graduated from the Academy, seventh in his class

  1942–43: Ensign, USS Phelps

  1943–44: Operational Training Command, Pacific

  1944–45: Lieutenant (junior grade), USS Robinson

  1945–46: Executive Officer, USS Saufley

  1946–48: Executive Officer, USS Zellars

  1948–50: Assistant Professor, naval science ROTC at Chapel Hill, NC

  1950–51: Commanding Officer, USS Tills

  1951–52: Navigating Officer, USS Wisconsin

  1952–53: Student at Naval War College

  1953–55: Bureau of Naval Personnel, Washington, D.C.

  1955–57: Commanding Officer, USS Arnold J. Isbell

  1957–59: Assistant for Naval Personnel, Washington, D.C.

  1959–61: Commanding Officer, USS Dewey

  1961–62: Student at National War College

  1962–63: Desk Officer, Arms Control unit, Washington, D.C.

  1963–65: Executive Assistant to Secretary of the Navy

  1965–66: Commanding Officer, Cruiser-Destroyer Flotilla Seven

  1966–68: Director, Systems Analysis Division

  1968–70: Commander, U.S. Naval Forces Vietnam

  1970–74: Chief of Naval Operations

  1976: Democratic candidate for Senate, state of Virginia

  Dates of Rank

  Midshipman, June 7, 1939

  Ensign, June 19, 1942

  Lieutenant (junior grade), May 1, 1943

  Lieutenant, July 1, 1944

  Lieutenant Commander, April 1, 1950

  Commander, February 1, 1955

  Captain, July 1, 1961

  Rear Admiral, July 1, 1965

  Vice Admiral, October 1, 1968

  Admiral, July 1, 1970

  Duty Assignments

  Aug 1942–Nov 1943: USS Phelps (DD-360), watch officer

  Nov 1943–Dec 1943: Operational Training Command Pacific, San Francisco, student

  Jan 1944–Oct 1945: USS Robinson (DD-562), watch officer

  Oct 1945–Mar 1946: USS Saufley (DD-465), executive officer

  Mar 1946–Jan 1948: USS Zellars (DD-777), executive officer

  Jan 1948–Jun 1950: NROTC Unit, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, assistant professor of naval sciences

  Jun 1950–Mar 1951: USS Tills (DE-748), commanding officer

  Mar 1951–Jun 1952: USS Wisconsin (BB-64), navigator

  Jun 1952–Jun 1953: Naval War College, Newport, Rhode Island, student

  Jun 1953–Jul 1955: Bureau of Naval Personnel, Washington, D.C.

  Jul 1955–Jul 1957: USS Arnold J. Isbell (DD-869), commanding officer

  Jul 1957–Dec 1957: Bureau of Naval Personnel, lieutenant detailer

  Dec 1957–Aug 1959: Office of the Assistant Secretary of the Navy for Personnel and Reserve Forces, special assistant, executive assistant

  Aug 1959–Jun 1961: USS Dewey (DLG-14), prospective commanding officer, commanding officer

  Aug 1961–Jun 1962: National War College, Washington, D.C., student

  Jun 1962–Dec 1963: Office of the Assistant Secretary of Defense (International Security Affairs), desk officer

  Dec 1963–Jun 1965: Office of the Secretary of the Navy, executive assistant

  Jul 1965–Jul 1966: Commander, Cruiser-Destroyer Flotilla Seven

  Aug 1966–Aug 1968: Director, Systems Analysis Division, Office of the CNO

  Sep 1968–May 1970: Commander, U.S. Naval Forces Vietnam and Chief, Naval Advisory Group Vietnam

  Jul 1970–Jun 1974: Chie
f of Naval Operations

  AUTHOR’S RESEARCH NOTE

  Before the Freedom of Information Act, I used to say at meetings, “The illegal we do immediately; the unconstitutional takes a little longer.” [laughter] But since the Freedom of Information Act, I’m afraid to say things like that.

  —HENRY KISSINGER1

  I first met Bud Zumwalt in the mid-1990s at a triennial conference at Texas Tech University’s Vietnam Center. I was writing my book No Peace, No Honor: Kissinger, Nixon and Betrayal in Vietnam. We shared a similar perspective concerning the endgame in Vietnam and the duplicity encapsulated in Richard Nixon’s three words, “peace with honor.” The admiral served as a valuable source for my book, and we participated in a C-SPAN Book TV series focusing on the process of writing No Peace, No Honor.2 We later worked together for the Vietnam Center at Texas Tech University, where Zumwalt chaired the National Advisory Board on which I still serve.

  No Peace, No Honor was published in 2001, and I next hoped to write this biography. Unfortunately, the Zumwalt papers were not yet declassified. Seven years later I received news from the acting director of the Naval Historical Center (NHC) that the Zumwalt materials were open. I was given authorization to begin working on what he and other historians at NHC saw as an important contribution. I could never have anticipated my journey into the navy’s equivalent of Alice in Wonderland.