authorize the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
By 1947 he had settled into the hard business of governing a new superpower in a chaotic world, but his methodical, decisive style was serving him well and he had hit his stride. The issues had come fast and furious--rebuilding Europe under the Marshall Plan, founding the United Nations, fighting communism with his National Security Act, jump-starting the domestic social agenda with his Fair Deal. I can do this job, he assured himself. Damn it, I'm up to this. Then something from way out of left field landed on his agenda. It was lying before him on his uncluttered desk next to his famous plaque, THE BUCK STOPS HERE.
The manila folder was marked in red letters: PROJECT VECTIS--ACCESS: ULTRA .
Truman recalled the phone call he had received from London five months earlier, one of those vivid events that would remain permanently and exquisitely etched in memory. He remembered what he was wearing that day, the apple he was eating, what he was thinking the moments before and after the call from Winston Churchill.
"I'm pleased to hear your voice," he had said. "What a surprise!"
"Hello, Mr. President. I hope you are well."
"Never been better. What can I do for you?"
Despite the static on the transatlantic line, Truman could hear the constriction in Churchill's voice. "Mr. President, you can do a great deal. We have an extraordinary situation."
"I'll certainly help if I can. Is this an official call?"
"It is. I've been pulled in. There's a small island off our south coast, the Isle of Wight."
"I've heard of it."
"A team of archaeologists has found something there that is frankly too hot for us to handle. The discovery is vitally important but we are concerned we simply don't have the capacity to deal with it in our postwar condition. We can't take the risk of fumbling it. At best it would be a national distraction, at worst a national catastrophe."
Truman could imagine Churchill sitting there, leaning into the telephone, his large frame indistinct in a haze of cigar smoke. "Why don't you tell me what it is your fellows found?"
The unflappable little President listened, his pen poised to jot some notes. After a short while he let the pen fall away unused and began nervously drumming the desk with his free fingers. Suddenly his tie felt too tight and the job felt too big. He had reckoned that the atomic bomb was his trial of fire. Now it seemed like a warm-up to something larger.
Besides the President of the United States, only six other men in the government had Ultra Clearance, a security designation so guarded that its very name was Top Secret. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, had known of the Manhattan Project in its heyday, but only a half dozen were privy to Project Vectis. The only member of Truman's cabinet to have Ultra Clearance was James Forrestal. Truman liked Forrestal well enough personally, but he trusted him absolutely. This was a fellow, like him, who had been a businessman before committing to public service. He had been FDR's Secretary of the Navy, and Truman kept him on in that role.
Forrestal was a cold, demanding workaholic who shared the President's rabid anti-Communist views. Truman had been grooming him for a higher calling. In time Forrestal would assume a newly created position in government, Secretary of Defense, and Project Vectis would stay with him, all-consuming.
Truman cracked the folder's crimson wax seal, an ancient but effective privacy tool. Inside was a memo written by Rear Admiral Roscoe Hillenkoetter, another Ultra insider whom Truman would shortly name to be the first director in a new agency to be called the CIA. Truman read the memo then reached inside and removed a loose bundle of newspaper clippings.
Roswell Daily Record : RAAF CAPTURES FLYING SAUCER ON RANCH IN ROSWELL REGION ; and the following day: GEN. RAMEY EMPTIES ROSWELL SAUCER . Sacramento Bee: ARMY REVEALS IT HAS FLYING DISC FOUND ON RANCH IN NEW MEXICO. There were
By 1947 he had settled into the hard business of governing a new superpower in a chaotic world, but his methodical, decisive style was serving him well and he had hit his stride. The issues had come fast and furious--rebuilding Europe under the Marshall Plan, founding the United Nations, fighting communism with his National Security Act, jump-starting the domestic social agenda with his Fair Deal. I can do this job, he assured himself. Damn it, I'm up to this. Then something from way out of left field landed on his agenda. It was lying before him on his uncluttered desk next to his famous plaque, THE BUCK STOPS HERE.
The manila folder was marked in red letters: PROJECT VECTIS--ACCESS: ULTRA .
Truman recalled the phone call he had received from London five months earlier, one of those vivid events that would remain permanently and exquisitely etched in memory. He remembered what he was wearing that day, the apple he was eating, what he was thinking the moments before and after the call from Winston Churchill.
"I'm pleased to hear your voice," he had said. "What a surprise!"
"Hello, Mr. President. I hope you are well."
"Never been better. What can I do for you?"
Despite the static on the transatlantic line, Truman could hear the constriction in Churchill's voice. "Mr. President, you can do a great deal. We have an extraordinary situation."
"I'll certainly help if I can. Is this an official call?"
"It is. I've been pulled in. There's a small island off our south coast, the Isle of Wight."
"I've heard of it."
"A team of archaeologists has found something there that is frankly too hot for us to handle. The discovery is vitally important but we are concerned we simply don't have the capacity to deal with it in our postwar condition. We can't take the risk of fumbling it. At best it would be a national distraction, at worst a national catastrophe."
Truman could imagine Churchill sitting there, leaning into the telephone, his large frame indistinct in a haze of cigar smoke. "Why don't you tell me what it is your fellows found?"
The unflappable little President listened, his pen poised to jot some notes. After a short while he let the pen fall away unused and began nervously drumming the desk with his free fingers. Suddenly his tie felt too tight and the job felt too big. He had reckoned that the atomic bomb was his trial of fire. Now it seemed like a warm-up to something larger.
Besides the President of the United States, only six other men in the government had Ultra Clearance, a security designation so guarded that its very name was Top Secret. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, had known of the Manhattan Project in its heyday, but only a half dozen were privy to Project Vectis. The only member of Truman's cabinet to have Ultra Clearance was James Forrestal. Truman liked Forrestal well enough personally, but he trusted him absolutely. This was a fellow, like him, who had been a businessman before committing to public service. He had been FDR's Secretary of the Navy, and Truman kept him on in that role.
Forrestal was a cold, demanding workaholic who shared the President's rabid anti-Communist views. Truman had been grooming him for a higher calling. In time Forrestal would assume a newly created position in government, Secretary of Defense, and Project Vectis would stay with him, all-consuming.
Truman cracked the folder's crimson wax seal, an ancient but effective privacy tool. Inside was a memo written by Rear Admiral Roscoe Hillenkoetter, another Ultra insider whom Truman would shortly name to be the first director in a new agency to be called the CIA. Truman read the memo then reached inside and removed a loose bundle of newspaper clippings.
Roswell Daily Record : RAAF CAPTURES FLYING SAUCER ON RANCH IN ROSWELL REGION ; and the following day: GEN. RAMEY EMPTIES ROSWELL SAUCER . Sacramento Bee: ARMY REVEALS IT HAS FLYING DISC FOUND ON RANCH IN NEW MEXICO. There were
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