'These Are My Guys'

President Ford's abrupt decision to rejuggle his Administration thrust four men into top jobs that may well lead them to even bigger jumps in the future. The four:

Rumsfeld: Eyes and Ears

Relaxing aboard the Spirit of 76 one night in November 1970, President Richard Nixon turned to Donald Rumsfeld, a White House counsellor, and said: "Rummy, one day you're going to be making these decisions. " Rumsfeld began to demur. "No," insisted Nixon, "one day you're going to be President."

The thought--and the hope--had often occurred to Rumsfeld, 43, an extraordinarily ambitious and dedicated man who has always looked ahead to the next job up the line, even while working as the chief of Jerry Ford's White House staff. In that position he serves as the President's eyes and ears, responsible for scheduling Ford's time, determining in large part what he needs and whom he sees as well as executing his orders. Since Ford, unlike Nixon, wants to be accessible to his top advisers, Rumsfeld neither stands in their way nor seeks to dominate policy meetings. He makes sure each adviser has his say and that dissenting opinions are brought into the open. Rumsfeld has generally kept his thoughts on major issues to himself--and the President. Speaking of Ford, he says: "There's nothing I wouldn't tell him."

Stand-Up Desk. An exuberant, energetic man with boyish good looks that are enhanced by aviator-type glasses, Rumsfeld prowls restlessly around his large corner office--he calls it "the cellophane box"--in a corner of the White House's West Wing, just a few quick paces from the Oval Office. He works at a stand-up desk, whisking through the papers that flow into the White House, then composing memos on a Dictaphone to be transcribed by one of his two secretaries.

His voice is raspy and his talk so crisp that it borders on brusqueness. He has little patience with incompetence. When a subordinate once tarried too long over an explanation, Rumsfeld snapped: "Come back when you have something to say." He projects an air of aloofness; he also creates the impression that he is too clever by half, that he coolly evaluates everyone he sees. "Each time you meet him, it's for the first time," says a White House aide. Yet Rumsfeld's intense, controlled style is a nice counterbalance to Ford's fondness for relaxed good fellowship. The two men get along very well.

Son of a Chicago real estate man, Rumsfeld attended the New Trier High School in Winnetka, Ill., gaining renown as a 150-lb. state wrestling champion. He won a scholarship to Princeton, married his high school sweetheart Joyce Pierson, and from 1954 to 1957 was a Navy pilot. Leaving the service as a lieutenant (j.g.), he became a congressional aide--and struck up a friendship with Michigan Representative Jerry Ford. In 1962 Rumsfeld began his own political career by winning the safe Republican congressional seat on Chicago's wealthy North Shore. He was 30.

"Rumsfeld was brash and inexperienced when he came here," recalls a Democratic colleague. "But he immediately started growing, and he never stopped. He was a first-rate Congressman." In 1965 Rumsfeld helped lead the "young Turks" who deposed Indiana's Charles Halleck as House Minority Leader. In his place they installed Ford. Says a Democratic Congressman hyperbolically: "Rumsfeld held the dagger that Ford plunged into Halleck's back."

Rumsfeld campaigned extensively for Nixon in 1968 and a year later resigned from Congress at the President's request to become head of the Office of Economic Opportunity. His assignment was to dismantle the organization and its "Great Society" programs, but before he could, Nixon made him a top White House aide in 1970. Three years later the President named Rumsfeld U.S. Ambassador to NATO, where he worked with characteristic vigor, although his chores were largely routine and ceremonial.

Since becoming chief of the White House staff shortly after Ford rose to the presidency, Rumsfeld has been in the middle of some bitter feuds. He won a power struggle against Robert Hartmann, Ford's longtime top aide and political adviser; Hartmann is now confined largely to speechwriting. Rumsfeld also clashed with Vice President Rockefeller over staff assignments, and Rocky's men suspect that he induced Campaign Chief Howard Callaway to call the Vice President a liability to the ticket for 1976. In addition, Rumsfeld has long been uneasily at odds with Henry Kissinger, feeling that he was taking credit--at the expense of Ford--for U.S. foreign policy decisions. Some of Rumsfeld's critics refer to him as Ford's "crown prince."

When he can get away from the White House, Rumsfeld, a devoted family man, spends almost all his time with his wife and their children--Valerie, 19, Marcy, 15, and Nicholas, 8. Ever since Mrs. Rumsfeld complained that he was dropping $100 a month in the White House mess, Rumsfeld has been lunching on a brown-bagged sandwich brought from home. He has no substantial personal wealth, and Mrs. Rumsfeld works in a Georgetown dress shop, the Dorcas Hardin shop, to help with family finances. One advantage of the new Cabinet post is that he will get a raise, from $42,500 to $60,000 a year.

The Pentagon's top officers are waiting with some anxiety for Rumsfeld to take on his sixth Administration job in six years. He has not yet shown the necessary breadth of intellect to handle an assignment as complex and demanding as running the nation's defenses. Even his admirers tend to describe him in terms of his political acumen and talent for infighting; only after they pause for breath do they add that he is also smart and able.

Rumsfeld may not be in the Pentagon long. He could end up running with Jerry Ford in 1976 (see page 30). No matter how the election turns out, Rumsfeld still has plenty of time to make Nixon's prediction come true. By the time the 1980 election rolls around, he will be only 48.

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