General MacArthur Still Cloaked In Grandeur

Press, Volume CIII, Issue 30390, 14 March 1964, Page 10

General MacArthur Still Cloaked In Grandeur

[By DAVID WILLIS in the “Sun-Herald” Sydney. Reprinted by arrangement! JJOUGLAS MACARTHUR, one e caesar of the Pacific and proconsul of Japan, reluctantly took up a new command post recently a hospital suite.

The old general, now 84, and obviously unwell, underwent a long gallstone operation—hard-to-believe news for Americans long accustomed to thinking of him as the old soldier who simply cannot fade away. '' _ For though he is today slow of step and hard ofhearing, he is still wrapped in his own special cloak of grandeur.

He is the nation’s top-rank-ing military officer (having held the rank of five-star general two days longer than Dwight Eisenhower). He has commanded troops in three wars; his bold campaigns were planned with theatrical style; his mighty clash with President Truman over the fighting in Korea made history. And through it all, he maintained an Olympian aloofness that, together with his ringing, rolling eloquence, projected an image, an aura, all his own. The Grand Manner Today he is perhaps the only living American with the grand manner of a Churchill or a de Gaulle. Even walking slowly into the Walter Reed Medical Centre in Washington this week, the old soldier held himself erect, his presence commanding respect. Ironically, it is this very bearing that has made the name MacArthur the most criticised, yet at the same time the most extravagantly praised, of all modern American commanders. There is no doubt that the man, himself the son of a famous general, is one of the most brilliant soldiers the United States has produced. West Point Record From his West Point days —where he scored 99 per cent in his entrance examination in 1899, and set a scholarship record not since equalled—he specialised in coming first. The youngest United States divisional commander in the First World War .. . youngest superintendent in West Point’s history ... the most decorated American officer

before Pearl Harbour . . . the list goes on and on. He came out of retirement to lead Allied forces against the Japanese in the Pacific, was forced to pull his troops from battered Bataan and Corregidor, then, from his base in Australia, leap-frog-ged back in a counter-offen-sive to Manila. “Yes, I know MacArthur,” commented one bitter general. “*I took dramatic lessons under him for nine years.” He had all the marks of a born actor. There was the famed cap with the “scrambled egg" braid, the corncob pipe, the immaculate clothes. “Everybody knows about the tilt of the cap, the shining boots, the open-throated profile flung at cameras,” wrote John Gunther. “MacArthur had terrific style. Even the fact that, with such complete lack of ostentation, he ostentatiously wears no decorations whatever (this was 1946) is part of the same picture.” The always-square shoulders, the aquiline nose, high forehead and angular, aristocratic face reinforced his air of complete authority. Complete Hero Said a rueful admirer: “Put MacArthur on a horse, and you have the personification of the military hero of all time.” The general is, paradoxically, innately shy, preferring the company of his wife and child to any social outing. The few who knew him well in Australia were convinced he saw himself as a man of destiny and the troops under him his own men, fighting for him. Yet his was also enormous personal charm, which often won over enemies.

The story is told of a distinguished American admiral sent to join him in Australia —a story illustrating much of the MacArthur character. MacArthur did not like the admiral, suspected he had been sent to “spy” on him, and so curtly told him not to communicate directly with superior officers in Washington. The admiral considered this an insult, but obeyed. Then came one of the landings to the north. Sensible Admiral The admiral went in with MacArthur immediately behind the first assault wave, then ground his teeth in fury as the general, still under fire but not a hair out of place, summoned photographers to take pictures. A shell burst a few yards away. The admiral threw himself flat on the sand with the others. A few seconds later he looked up. There was MacArthur, straight as a ramrod, hands on hips, the smoke from the shell curling around him. The admiral wondered whether he would be reprimanded for ducking, but MacArthur nodded to him: “Damned glad, Admiral, somebody on my staff has the sense to lie flat.” From then on the admiral was devoted to him. Enlisted men savagely labelled MacArthur “Dug-out Doug” because he spent so much time on Corregidor, but other experts agree he showed unusual bravery under fire. Rapid Promotion The United States entered the First World War when he was a 37-year-old major.

Quickly promoted, he ended up chief of staff for the Rainbow Division, “the bravest of the brave.” By 1930 he held the army’s top military job—Chief of Staff in Washington. In 1937 he retired. Then came Pearl Harbour, and his return to supreme command. On the night of March 11, 1942, he, his wife and small son were taken off the rock of Corregidor in fast-moving torpedo boats screaming through Japanese searchlights and mine barriers. Soon he was in Melbourne —and the rest is history. When the war ended, and MacArthur was appointed Supreme Commander in Japan, his public image developed still more. Living in self-imposed isolation in Tokyo, MacArthur ran the country as an unofficial emperor. Nothing was done without his permission. When President Truman was faced with the Korean explosion, he chose MacArthur to head the United Nations force there . . . and was faced with the Korean the test of wills between the! two men began. Dismissal j It ended with Truman dismissing MacArthur from all his command in 1951 for wanting to cross the Yalu River and attack the Communist Chinese. It is reported that MacArthur still feels his career blotted by this decision, though he now admits Truman showed courage to make it. For the last 12 years, he has lived quietly in the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, seeing only close friends, and writing his memoirs. The gallstone operation was a success, no trace of cancer was discovered—his family had feared it would be—and doctors reported that he was in good condition. It seems that, to paraphrase one of his best-known statements, he will return.