Sandwiches & Success

THE PRESIDENCY

Sandwiches & Success

In the cool of his Rapidan camp last Sunday President Hoover lolled restfully. It was the first relaxation he had had in a week of intense negotiation with France over his proposed debt holiday (see p. 16). His eye roved across the placid Virginia countryside. Inside the "Town Hall" a telephone bell rang. It was Acting Secretary of State William Richards Castle Jr. in Washington. The President, excited, almost leaped to the instrument. What was it? Another note from France. Was it satisfactory? No, it made serious proposals counter to the President's plan. Very well, the President would return immediately to Washington to help frame a reply.

"Get my car at once," he ordered as he turned from the telephone. But no car came. Camp cooks continued to prepare Sunday dinner. The President's temper began to rise. He repeated his command, louder this time: "Get my car AT ONCE!" A few minutes later the White House motor rolled up before him. Behind it came the presidential bodyguard, buttoning their shirts and tying their cravats as they scrambled into their escort car. A brief nod of farewell to his camp guests and President Hoover, without dinner, started down the mountain toward the capital 112 mi. away. Thirty miles along the road a car from his camp careened up beside the President's motor. Its driver handed Mr. Hoover a box of sandwiches prepared after his departure. Without stopping the President munched bread & chicken & cheese while his car whizzed through heavy holiday traffic, got him back to the White House in the record time of 2 hr. 41 min.

Awaiting him there were Mr. Castle and acting Secretary of the Treasury Mills (see p. 13). All three hurried into the office, began to ponder the French note. The issue was Germany's Reparations payments in kind. The President had proposed that these be settled by a commission of experts acting within the spirit of the Hoover moratorium. France wanted the experts to act on their own best judgment and quite independent of the moratorium. That, the President agreed with his advisers, would never do. Together they drafted a reply to France, rejecting her proposition and sending the negotiations off on a new track which might lead no man knew where.

This uncertainty and confusion of Sunday were but a continuation of what had been going on from day to day all week. In the Cabinet room three telephones with special headpieces had been hooked together. There President Hoover and

Messrs. Mills and Castle would go to hear transatlantic reports from Secretary Mellon, chief U. S. negotiator in Paris. Mr. Mellon usually called around noon and again at dinnertime. Sometimes the connection was so poor that the President and his aides could not hear the soft-speaking Secretary. It was also found that the President's voice did not carry well to Paris so a telephone girl was brought in to do his talking for him. Once the President asked the 76-year-old Secretary if he were exhausted by his strenuous diplomatic activities. Replied Mr. Mellon: "No, I find all this rather good fun."

But at last on muggy Monday afternoon word was flashed from Paris to the White House that France had finally accepted. The French had won their point: Germany, to maintain the Young Plan, was to pay her unconditional reparations. President Hoover had won his point: Such payments were to be immediately reloaned to Germany. Happily President Hoover summoned a clerk, dictated: "I am glad to announce that the American proposal has been accepted in principle by all. . . . Good will. . . . Earnest cooperation . . . sincere humanity of the American people. . . . Economic relief means the swinging of men's minds from fear to confidence, the swinging of nations from the apprehension of disorder and governmental collapse to hope."

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