Five Presidents: My Extraordinary Journey With Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, and Ford

by Hill, Clint

  Later that evening, a large group of about five hundred protestors marched toward the U.S. Embassy residence chanting “Viva Perón!” and “Go Away, Ike!” as they ripped down American flags and banners of President Eisenhower. Fortunately the Argentine police were able to corral the agitators and keep them well back from the gates of the residence.

  It was the first time I’d seen any anti-American demonstrations, and it certainly was a vivid reminder of not only the need for constant vigilance, but also how reliant we were on the host country’s law enforcement and their ability to control their people.

  The next day the president was scheduled to fly to the seaside resort town of Mar del Plata, spend two hours on the ground, and then fly on to San Carlos de Bariloche, where he would stay at the Llao Llao Hotel. Those of us on the midnight shift leapfrogged ahead to San Carlos de Bariloche on a U.S. Air Force C-130, and of the thousands of flights I took in my career, that was one I’ll never forget. We were strapped into the belly of the airplane on bench seats—not very comfortable to begin with—but suddenly we hit extreme turbulence. First there was a jolt. Then the plane dropped, losing hundreds of feet of altitude. Then another jolt, and up we went. The plane was bouncing hundreds of feet at a time, up and down, up and down. If we hadn’t been secured to our seats, there would have been bodies bouncing all over the place. Instead, many of the agents turned green and began vomiting. I found out, fortunately, that I was not prone to motion sickness, and I was one of the few who was able to hold everything in. The turbulence seemed to last forever, and I’m sure every single one of us wondered at some point if we were going to make it out alive. The pilot did an amazing job of getting us through it, however, and we finally landed.

  We were all eager to get to the hotel, and when we arrived it was like we had landed at Shangri-la. The Llao Llao Hotel was a magnificent chalet-style lakeside resort nestled at the foot of the Andes, complete with—you guessed it—a golf course.

  On Monday, February 29, it was on to Santiago, Chile. Chile was struggling with one of the worst cases of inflation in South America, and Chilean president Jorge Alessandri Rodríguez’s austerity measures to improve the economy were not universally liked. Support for Communism was growing, and while we saw mostly enthusiastic crowds along the route from the airport into the city, several union groups had put up banners supporting Fidel Castro to send a clear message during Eisenhower’s visit.

  We would face a similar conflict in Montevideo, Uruguay, two days later. After the typical arrival ceremony at Carrasco Airport, the presidential motorcade proceeded into the downtown area of the capital city, which is located in the southernmost tip of Uruguay. It was a beautiful sunny day, with the temperature in the low 70s, and as we drove along the palm-tree-lined bay, thousands waved handkerchiefs and cheered at the sight of President Eisenhower standing in the back of the Lincoln convertible 4-B. It was another typically exuberant reception—until we came upon the University of Montevideo.

  A group of students was standing on the roof of the School of Architecture, where they had erected two huge banners: OUT WITH YANKEE IMPERIALISM IN LATIN AMERICA and LONG LIVE THE CUBAN REBELLION.

  Army trucks and police vehicles had roared ahead of the motorcade, and by the time we passed in front of the university, the police were spraying high-pressure fire hoses at the students on the rooftop. It was by far the most negative demonstration we had encountered, but with the help of the Uruguayan police, the rest of the motorcade proceeded without incident.

  After a twenty-one-hour stay in Montevideo—during which I was introduced to beef and cheese fondue—we headed back to Ramey Air Force Base, where the president would have a relaxing three days reviewing the overwhelmingly positive reaction to the South American trip and, of course, playing a few rounds of golf. For me, the trip to South America was yet another eye-opening experience that showed the impact the United States had on the political and economic situations of countries far from our shores and the enormous influence wielded by our president. President Eisenhower represented all the people of the U.S.A., and there was no greater ambassador. It was a testament to his deep and profound love of his country that he was working so hard during his final year in office—not for his personal benefit, but to build the foundation for a future that rested on trust and cooperation between nations. That foundation—along with President Eisenhower’s stellar reputation—was about to come crashing down in a fiery blaze.

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  Spying on the Soviets

  When we returned to Washington after the highly successful South American trip, President Eisenhower continued to have a full agenda, but the schedule was much more predictable. I was able to spend time with Gwen and Chris, eating meals at home and sleeping in my own bed—almost like I had a normal job, with the exception that I rotated shifts every two weeks.

  At this point in Eisenhower’s presidency, Americans were better off economically than they ever had been before, and the world was a far safer place than it was when Ike took office. President Eisenhower had had several successful meetings with Khrushchev, so that, while the Cold War still existed, U.S.-Soviet relations seemed to be heading in the direction of compromise and peaceful coexistence leading up to the Summit Conference with Khrushchev that was set for May 16, 1960, in Paris.

  President Eisenhower had authorized development of a single-engine airplane capable of flying at ultrahigh altitudes and equipped with cameras that could capture incredibly clear images on the ground 70,000 feet below. These Top Secret U-2 surveillance planes were put into use around 1956 primarily to gather intelligence on Russia’s military potential, specifically its short- and long-range missile capability. This was a Central Intelligence Agency project, and because Eisenhower knew it would be politically catastrophic if an American plane was found spying in Soviet airspace, he insisted Air Force pilots not be used. Any violation of Soviet airspace would be considered a direct provocation, and for this reason he personally authorized each and every flight. By 1960, however, Eisenhower was growing increasingly apprehensive about the riskiness of using the U-2 because any discovery of the project would undermine his standing with Khrushchev. He felt we had enough information at this point and wanted the missions ceased, especially in the weeks leading up to the Summit Conference in Paris. At the urging of the CIA, however, he reluctantly authorized one final flight over Russian airspace, stipulating that it not happen any later than May 1. An experienced pilot, Francis Gary Powers, was given the assignment, and was all set to take off from Peshawar, Pakistan, at the end of April, but due to weather delays the flight didn’t occur until the deadline—Sunday, May 1.

  President Eisenhower was spending the weekend at Camp David with family and friends when he received word that the U-2 had gone missing. The CIA had assured the president that if the worst possible scenario had happened—that the Russians had intercepted and shot down the plane—there would be no way the pilot could survive and the plane would be destroyed upon impact. As a last resort, the pilot was supposed to activate the plane’s self-destruct mechanism and take a CIA-issued suicide pill before bailing out.

  The next few days, President Eisenhower conducted business as usual, virtually ignoring the incident because his advisors were confident there would be no evidence indicating the United States was conducting aerial reconnaissance over the Soviet Union.

  Meanwhile, however, a Top Secret statement was dispatched to a select group of officials: “Following is a cover plan to be implemented immediately. U-2 aircraft was on weather mission originating Adana, Turkey. Purpose was study of clear air turbulence. During flight in Southeast Turkey, pilot reported he had oxygen difficulties. This last word heard at 0700Z over emergency frequency. U-2 aircraft did not land Adana as planned, and it can only be assumed is now down. A search effort is under way in Lake Van area.”

  Normal procedures to search for a missing aircraft were initiated by the Adana base commander, and an initial press release w
as sent from Adana, with no official statement from the White House. The idea was to keep the president as far removed from the incident as possible.

  On Thursday, May 5, four days after the plane had gone missing, the game changed. It turned out that the Russians had indeed shot down the plane; they knew it was a spy plane; and it had been flying deep inside the Soviet Union. There was no mention of the pilot.

  Everyone assumed Powers was dead, and NASA immediately sent out a press release embellishing the cover story with flight path details and conjecture that if the pilot had lost oxygen, the plane likely would have continued on automatic pilot in a northeasterly direction, which could have put the plane in Soviet airspace. President Eisenhower was fully aware of the lies being spread, but in an effort to keep the issue at a distance, he had not yet made any public statement.

  The president went to his home in Gettysburg for the weekend, and on Saturday morning I was on duty as he played a round of golf with his friend George Allen at the Gettysburg Country Club. Partway through the game, a senior staff member sped up in a golf cart and pulled the president aside. I couldn’t hear what was said, but I saw the reaction.

  Eisenhower flew into a state of rage. Curse words spewed from his mouth, his neck veins bulged, and he was clutching his golf club so hard I thought he was going to break it in half. Whatever information had been passed to him had clearly infuriated him.

  It turned out that the initial information the Soviets had released about the downing of the U-2 was not the entire story. Not only did they have remnants of the plane, but they also had the pilot, and he was alive. Premier Khrushchev had just announced that they had Francis Gary Powers in custody, and they knew everything about him, including that he worked for the CIA.

  The timing couldn’t have been worse. Eisenhower knew that his greatest asset going into the Paris Summit was his reputation for being honest and trustworthy. That had been obliterated. Allen Dulles, the director of the CIA, offered to resign and to make a statement that an unnamed official had acted without the authority to do so, but President Eisenhower rejected that option.

  “I’m not going to shift the blame to my underlings,” he said. But he was not yet ready to take full responsibility, and thus agreed to go along with a plan to continue to hedge the truth. Publicly, officials admitted that for the past four years planes of this type—civilian planes—had been flying along the frontier of the free world because of the concern of a surprise attack by the Soviet Union. The State Department admitted knowing that a U-2 plane was missing, but there was no authorization for an intrusive flight into the Soviet Union. Perhaps, in an effort to obtain information concealed from behind the Iron Curtain, an unarmed U-2 did enter Soviet airspace, unauthorized to do so. The perpetuation of the cover-up would come back to haunt the president.

  Khrushchev reacted by warning that Soviet rockets would shoot down any more spy planes that ventured over Soviet soil, and his government would take “appropriate countermeasures.” Eisenhower was so distraught over the situation that he contemplated resignation. With the Paris Summit just a few days away, he decided that the only option he could live with was to come out with the truth, finally. He admitted that the administration had been involved in systematic espionage and had lied, publicly, about the U-2 flights. He later said, “Incidentally, if anyone should be punished, they should punish me first.” President Eisenhower was not someone who looked to blame others—he would much rather accept responsibility himself. This incident, and the way it was handled, was a good lesson that covering up something and lying about it, rather than acknowledging the truth of the matter, will cause more trouble than admitting wrongdoing at the outset. Now, with the Paris Summit just days away, he would have to confront Khrushchev with the whole world watching.

  TYPICALLY, BEFORE A major international trip, President Eisenhower would issue a farewell statement, but on the evening of Saturday, May 14, 1960, as we escorted him to Air Force One at Andrews Air Force Base, he bypassed the row of press microphones, offering only a slight wave and a smile. I was one of seven agents aboard Air Force One on the overnight flight to Paris, and while the president slept in his compartment, the other agents and I went over the detailed security plans that had been sent back from the advance team. We knew the president was deeply concerned about how the U-2 fiasco would affect the sessions, so we wanted to make damn sure everything from a security aspect went flawlessly.

  Shortly after arriving in Paris on Sunday, the president met with the other Western leaders—Charles de Gaulle, Konrad Adenauer, and Harold Macmillan—to prepare for the summit with Khrushchev on Monday, and while he appeared calm and cool in public, in private he was clearly anxious about what would happen when he came face-to-face with the Soviet premier.

  On Monday morning, May 16, we took the president to the Élysée Palace and escorted him up a wide marble staircase to a high-ceilinged room. The agents remained outside the door, so I did not witness what occurred inside. What happened, however, was that as soon as all the leaders were present, Premier Khrushchev flew into a tirade, lambasting President Eisenhower and ranting for forty minutes straight about the U-2 incident. The Soviet premier not only withdrew his invitation for Eisenhower to visit the Soviet Union—which was supposed to take place the next month—but he demanded Eisenhower promise not to conduct any more intelligence flights over the Soviet Union and insisted the president punish all those responsible for the May 1 U-2 flight. His voice got louder and louder as he hurled insult after insult at President Eisenhower while repeating threats of retaliation against the United States as well as any allies that provided bases. In a final affront, Khrushchev suggested the summit be postponed for another six or eight months until the United States had elected a new president.

  When President Eisenhower was finally able to speak, he refused to accept any ultimatum by the Soviet leader, and there were some terse words between the two, while de Gaulle and Macmillan tried to ease the tension. The meeting lasted for three hours, but the main agenda for the summit—arms control—had barely been broached. When President Eisenhower emerged from the room, he was visibly shaken, and as he walked outside the palace, with General Goodpaster by his side, the president let forth a rant of his own, calling Khrushchev every swear word in the book. I had never seen him in such a state of outrage, and it was the first time I had ever heard him use profanity off the golf course.

  The summit was over before it ever began, and President Eisenhower felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Everyone had had such high expectations for fruitful negotiations, but the U-2 incident had changed everything, and now it seemed that instead of heading toward peace, the world faced a dangerously uncertain future. The opportunity for real conciliation between the West and the Soviets had been lost, and Eisenhower realized it would not be regained during his tenure.

  The consequences of the U-2 cover-up and his personal sense of defeat were devastating to President Eisenhower. Indeed, in an interview after he left the White House, he admitted the biggest mistake he made during his presidency was “the lie we told about the U-2. I didn’t realize how high a price we were going to pay for that lie.”

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  The Asian Trip

  Not long after Eisenhower returned to Washington from the failed summit, Khrushchev began turning up the heat in the Cold War. At a Kremlin news conference in early June, he mocked President Eisenhower, calling him “completely lacking in willpower” and “dangerous.” But more serious than his verbal attacks against Ike were his chilling threats to retaliate against any air base that facilitated U.S. spy plane activity over the Soviet Union with an immediate nuclear attack.

  All plans for President Eisenhower’s visit to the Soviet Union in June had been scrapped, but a tour through Asia that had been scheduled in conjunction with that visit was still on the agenda, with stops planned in the Philippines, Taiwan, Japan, and South Korea. Khrushchev’s latest vitriolic rhetoric, however, was
riling up Communist sympathizers, especially in Japan, where large protests were being organized against Eisenhower’s visit and the Japan-U.S. security treaty that had just been signed between Ike and Premier Nobusuke Kishi. Despite concerns for his safety, the president was adamant about visiting Japan, so a pre-advance team was sent to Tokyo to evaluate the situation. The purpose of a pre-advance team is to visit the proposed venues and to confer with the host officials regarding the possible visit. They decide if the visit is feasible and worthwhile from the White House point of view before sending an advance team to make the final arrangements.

  On June 10, press secretary Jim Hagerty and appointments secretary Thomas Stephens flew to Tokyo, accompanied by Secret Service agents Floyd Boring and Jack Holtzhauer. U.S. ambassador Douglas MacArthur II was there to greet them, but as the group departed the airport a frenzied mob swarmed their car. Five thousand protestors, most of whom were students armed with bamboo sticks, shouted “Goddamn Eisenhower!” and “Yankee go home!” as they surrounded the vehicle. Police were quick to get to the area, but even though they clubbed the students with heavy truncheons, they couldn’t gain control of the situation. The Americans were trapped in the limousine for more than an hour until a helicopter piloted by a U.S. Marine came to the rescue. As Japanese police and the two agents formed a protective shield around Hagerty, Stephens, and MacArthur to move them from the car to the helicopter, the mob pelted them with rocks. Finally, they were able to scramble into the chopper and it flew them to safety.