The Cavalier daily :: Tuesday, November 24, 1970 :: University of Virginia Library

"I have fell in the nineteen months
that I have been Secretary of Defense,"
the letter began, "that there is a
continuing need for an informal exchange
of views on defense and other matters
with people from various walks of life. It
is important for me to maintain an
awareness of what people outside of
defense are thinking."

The letter went on to tell me who to
contact if I wanted to join the Secretary
and a small group of individuals for a free
meal and "general conversation" at the
Pentagon at 12:30 p.m., on Tuesday, November
10. The letter was signed "Mel Laird."

I telephoned my acceptance and discovered
that I was the only student in the group, and
could not figure out why I had been invited.

Tuesday, November 10 arrived and at 12:25
that day I pulled up to the River Entrance of
the Pentagon where I was met by Julian Levine,
the man who arranged these luncheons, who
showed me where to park and ushered me
inside where the other members of the group
were waiting.

I was introduced to the seven other citizens
who were to dine with the Secretary.

I was introduced to the seven other citizens
who were to dine with the Secretary. They
were: Martin Castillo, Chairman, Cabinet
Committee on Opportunities for
Spanish-Speaking People; Herman Kahn, who
writes frequently on nuclear arms and is
attached to the Hudson Institute; Eric Hoffer,
the longshoreman philosopher and columnist;
Robert F. Goheen, President, Princeton
University; Mrs. Carolyn P. DuBose, Assistant
Editor, Ebony Magazine; Mrs. Alexander (Mary
C.) Cottone, National President, Ladies
Auxiliary to the Veterans of Foreign Wars; and
Mrs. Peggy Whedon, Producer, "Issues &
Andwers."

After these introductions the group was
ushered into the office of Mr. Laird, a rather
ornate room with a fine view of the Potomac
River. The office was at least four times the size
of President Shannon's (for whatever that's
worth) and contained a huge desk, which I was
told used to belong to General Pershing.

We all met Secretary Laird in his office as
well as David Packard, Assistant Secretary of
Defense, who joined the group for lunch. The
former, who had more hair on his head than the
political cartoonists would have you believe and
rather longish sideburns (a In Edgar Shannon)
to boot, knew all of our first names ("Glad you
could make it. Tom"). We addressed him as
"Mr. Secretary."

The cocktails arrived swiftly and after two
or three minutes of small talk we sat down for
lunch at a table loaded with silver, crystal, and
china all possessing the great seal of the
Department of Defense. I realized that I was in
the very center of the military-industrial
complex and, to be honest, it wasn't really all
that bad.

Mrs. Whedon told us about her chat with the
King of Thailand a few days before who had
advised her that the way to deal with student
disorders in America was to treat the students
the way we were treating the Vietcong.

After everyone had been served Mr. Laird
explained that he wanted our views and had six
of these luncheons to keep in touch with
people outside of defense. He then had David
Packard tell us that defense budget requests
would be kept at current levels over the next
few years, which would be a reduction since the
national income would be soaring.

Then he let us speak. Mrs. Cottone began by
saying that in her last trip to Vietnam
she had visited the troops and it was her
view that these are the best troops in the world
and they are doing a great job and deserve our
support and so on. She spoke for about fifteen
minutes and even Mr. Packard yawned a couple
of times before she was through.

Eric Hoffer and Herman Kahn then took up
the subject of student unrest. Twenty or thirty
minutes later they had concluded that students
were meek, destructive, and generally
unpopular. Professors were not much better. I
tried to explain that students were not really
meek ("you might remember what happened
last May") but Mr. Kahn interrupted me to ask
Robert Goheen why the professors at his school
were so critical of the decision to invade
Cambodia. The rice and weapons were a poor
substitute.

Then Mrs. Cottone came to the rescue. She
said that the students she knew were the best in
the world and were doing a great job and
deserved our support.

An hour and a half had passed and not much
had been said about defense. So I asked about
the volunteer army. Mr. Laird indicated that he
thought a G.I. should got more than $2,000 per
year, the current starting salary, but pointed
out that every increase of $1,000 per year per
soldier would cost $2 billion. He didn't know
whether Congress would authorize that kind of
money. He added that the alternative of
requiring every young man in the country to
serve his country in some capacity wouldn't
work very well, since studies had shown that
everyone wanted to join Vista or the Peace
Corps but no one seemed to want to join the
army.

Mr. Goheen asked about Vietnamization.
Mr. Laird said that we had established schedules
which the South Vietnamese would just have to
meet. Mr. Goheen then asked about the arms
race and Mr. Laird said that even if the SALT
talks succeed, the Department of Defense still
needs to buy new weapons. But these new
weapons only comprise about twelve per cent
of the Pentagon budget anyway, so students
should not be overly concerned with their
purchase, inasmuch as this was a relatively small
part of the Defense budget.

Leaving the Pentagon I could not help but
remember that not too many months ago it was
surrounded by students demanding an end to
the war. But in November of 1970 it seemed as
if the Pentagon and the citizens of the republic
were demanding an end to students.