The Bonaparte of Beef

This side of Technicolor, no one wages war on the range quite like Harold L. Oppenheimer, 47, head of the U.S.'s biggest cattle management firm. By his definition, "ranching is the nearest thing in business to a military operation. You deal with large amounts of terrain, large-scale logistics. On the battlefield as in a roundup, success depends on timing, men, and movement."

Oppenheimer's military judgment is hard to fault. A Marine reserve officer since World War II, when he led a battalion ashore at Okinawa, he was called up for Korea, returned last May from a combat tour in Viet Nam, and last month pinned on his brigadier general's stars.

On the range, the general won his stars long ago. As founder and chairman of his Kansas City firm, Oppenheimer Industries Inc., he maneuvers some 220,000 head of cattle on more than 100 ranches in 17 states. In addition, he is one of the nation's leading authorities on the arcane art of investing in cattle. He has written two books on ranching (Cowboy Arithmetic, Cowboy Economics) and co-authored a third (the recently published Cowboy Litigation, a 561-page tome on the tax and legal aspects of ranching).

No Saddle Sores. Oppenheimer deals in cattle and feed transactions that last year amounted to $15 million and yielded nearly $1,000,000 in fees and commissions. He caters to a solvent and not exactly saddle-sore clientele (among past and present customers: Banker Robert Lehman, Comedian Jack Benny, Actress Joan Fontaine). For would-be instant cattlemen, Oppenheimer will assemble a herd, buy a spread, hire a manager and oversee the whole operation. "Real crapshooters," as Oppenheimer calls clients who are able and willing to win or lose as much as 50% on their money in a single year, can go for so-called "feeder contracts." For a down payment of $50,000 or so, Oppenheimer will handle the financing and feeding of a 500-head herd until the cattle reach proper weight and grade. The herd must then go to market, whether volatile beef prices are on the rise (which means win) or too low to cover costs (which means lose).

Safer and more strategically appealing are "breeding" contracts. "This," he says, "is where the tax play is." Taking advantage of laws that encourage the building of bigger and better herds, an Oppenheimer client can buy a 100-head breeding herd for as little as $12,000.

Of that, $9,750 covers the first year's feed, financing and breeding costs, plus Oppenheimer's maximum 81% com mission -- all of which is tax deductible.

The remaining $2,250 represents the down payment on the herd, which, like factory machinery, is depreciable.

Unlike machines, of course, cows re produce. After perhaps five years of tax deductions and depreciation and breeding at an Oppenheimer-managed ranch, a herd can easily triple in size.

When it is sold, most of the profit is taxed at the 25% -maximum capital gains rate. Investing in cows, says Op penheimer, beats investing in oil wells.

Tunes of Glory. Oppenheimer came by his improbable trade improbably enough. A Harvard anthropology ma jor ('39), he graduated cum laude at 19, then set off for Bolivia and Peru.

Taking to the rugged life, he dropped plans for a Ph.D. to join the Marines.

Despite his 5-ft. 7-in., 132-lb. size, he be came at 23 the youngest battalion commander in the Corps. Reluctantly mustered out at war's end, he began running his family's Kansas City interests (an auto agency, small loan and real-estate operations). Not until 1953, when his stepfather, Jules Stein, founder of MCA, asked Oppenheimer to buy him land and cattle as a tax shelter, did the ex-Marine find a new field to conquer.

Music Man Stein's call must have sounded like tunes of glory. "We consider our entire firm to be a general staff," says President Ronald Jarvis Jr.. a reserve Marine colonel who helped Oppenheimer build the company. "The ranches and the herds are the regiments and divisions." The top echelon of the 99-man staff is largely recruited from the military, because Oppenheimer believes that soldiers "know how to act in a crisis." They Certainly ought to know the routine. Oppenheimer requires bimonthly inspections o_-L- ranchers, using Marine fitness reports.

"Any day of the week," he declares, "I'd rather have a Marine officer handling a roundup than a farmer." He is just as tough with his clients. Those who visit Oak Hill, Oppenheimer's 600-acre spread outside Kansas City, are usually invited to jump, crawl and clamber through an obstacle course not unlike the one at the Marine training base at Quantico.

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