In the early Spring of 1959, I was assigned to duty in Paris at Supreme
Headquarters Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE). Since one of my West Point classmates
was at that time on top of the ladder of the U.S. Army Transportation Corps, I
was fortunate enough to get a good sized stateroom on board the S.S. United
States steamship for my family and myself for the Atlantic crossing. This was to
be my last military assignment before retirement. It proved to be a very
pleasant assignment, and in terms of the years to come, a very fortunate
assignment.
Upon arrival at SHAPE, my first meeting was with 4-star General Cortland van
Rensalear Schuyler, the SHAPE Chief of Staff. He told me that I would be
assigned as the American executive to the German 3-star Chief of the Plans and
Operations Division - Lt. General Foertsch. General Foertsch also had a German
Colonel as his other executive - Colonel Heinz Huckelheim, and a German Naval
Lieutenant as his aide. A few months later, Colonel Huckelheim was replaced by
another German Colonel, Siegfried Schulz. The American Colonel whom I replaced,
later became a 3-star General in the U.S. Army. Colonel Huckelheim became a
2-star General in the German Army, and Colonel Schulz became a 3-star General in
the German Army. In other words, one might have called this a rather prestigious
assignment in terms of career opportunities. As I will explain later, General
Foertsch went on from SHAPE a year or so later to get his fourth star and to
become what the Germans called Inspector General of the German Armed Forces. It
is the highest military position in Germany and is roughly equivalent to the
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in the United States.
There was also a secretariat in SHAPE, and the Secretary to the SHAPE General
Staff was an old friend of mine, Brigadier General Jim Curtis, class of 1930
from West Point. Jim got me aside not long after my arrival in SHAPE and said,
"Roy, I have only a few months left in this assignment before my
retirement. There are a number of people being considered to replace me, and if
my information is correct, I believe you are among the first. The decision will
largely depend on General Schuyler's recommendation."
Several weeks later there was to be a briefing for a distinguished group of
visitors from various NATO countries, including the United States. The briefing
was to be given by a U.S. Air Force Colonel and the subject was, more or less, a
comparative picture of Western Allied military strength in World War II and
Korea, and that of the present era of 1959. General Schuyler asked me to sit
alone with him in the auditorium to listen to the Air Force Colonel's rehearsal
of his presentation, and to make such comments and/or recommendations as I felt
appropriate. Had the presentation been an objective analysis of the subject in
question, I would most certainly have complimented the young man who gave the
presentation. However, the theme was essentially one that I had heard over and
over again throughout the years since World War II, namely "the predominant
military power in World War II and Korea, and the really only essential power in
possible future conflicts is air power." Admittedly, it was not stated in
quite those bare terms, but there was no question that that was the essence of
the presentation. At the conclusion of the rehearsal, General Schuyler asked me
if I had any comments to make. I said I most certainly did, and I proceeded to
make some comments based upon my own combat experience which I suppose could
have been described as hostile and undiplomatic, to say the least. Now, it
should be understood that Schuyler himself, although a highly intelligent and
exceptionally competent staff officer, had risen from a Brigadier General in the
Coast Artillery Corps near the beginning of World War II, to the rank of a
four-star general without ever having come close to combat, as I had in the
Infantry or as had the young Colonel in the Air Force. Schuyler was therefore
hardly in a position to understand my comments. What he did understand was that
I had shown a certain lack of restraint in my comments, and insofar as he was
concerned, self-restraint and diplomacy were primary requisites for the position
of Secretary to the general staff of SHAPE. I have to concede that he was
probably right. Shortly thereafter, Jim Curtis advised me that I had "blown
it" so to speak, and was probably out of the running for the job.
REFLEXION: This is not easy for me to write, but if you, my descendants, can
learn anything from this anecdote, it should be that if something positive can
be gained by outspokenness, then by all means, speak out. But, as in the case I
have just cited, to speak out publicly and abrasively in criticism of one of
your fellow citizens just for the sake of self-satisfaction and truth, is
frequently the most self-defeating action you could take. I seem to have a
penchant, at least in my military career, for opening my mouth in criticism of
one thing or another at the wrong time, in the wrong company, and for no obvious
benefit to myself or anyone else. I hope this penchant (or weakness) is not
hereditary.
Our residence in Paris during the first year or more was a lovely little house
in the Paris suburb of Croissy - a house with a big yard full of all kinds of
fruit trees, located on the bank of the Seine River. Our neighbors were
interesting, to say the least. Directly on our right, facing the Seine, was the
fairly large home of Pierre Balmain, the famous French dress designer. Directly
on our left was the relatively small home of Marcel Marceau, the world's most
famous mime. Rumor had it among the neighbors that both Balmain and Marceau were
homosexual. We couldn't have cared less. If Marcel Marceau was a homosexual, he
was most certainly very private and circumspect about it. We never even saw him,
much less met him, even though he was our next door neighbor. We never actually
met Pierre Balmain either, but his presence as a neighbor was pretty obvious.
There would sometimes be late night parties at his place with naked boys chasing
naked boys around the grounds. We didn't mind particularly, and on the rare
occasions when this took place, we didn't lose much sleep.
REFLEXION: The world is a pretty large place with room enough in it for people
of all tastes and persuasions. It would be a much better place if there were
more tolerance for those who do not meet the established norms of the majority,
particularly as long as they do no actual harm to the people of the majority.
During our residence in Croissy, I had the misfortune to have to undergo my
second spinal disc operation. I had it done in a U.S. military hospital near
Landstuhl, Germany. Fortunately, I had one of the world's best neurosurgeon, Dr.
Ludwig Kempe, to do the operation. He had also assisted in my first spinal disc
operation at Walter Reed Hospital in Washington, D.C. some five years earlier. I
suppose my reason for saying he was so good at his profession was twofold.
First, he later became the chief neurosurgeon for the astronaut program at NASA
and, second, I have never had any post-operative problems during the ensuing 30
some-odd years.
We finally moved from Croissy to what was called SHAPE Village, a large
apartment complex, managed and maintained by the U.S. Government for its
employees at SHAPE (Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe). Once settled at
SHAPE Village, we entered our youngest son, Raoul, and our next youngest son,
George, in the SHAPE Village School where virtually all classes were taught in
French. I recall that during Raoul's first days in kindergarten, he brought home
plenty of homework and was very distressed over the fact that "he couldn't
understand a word of what the teacher was saying." But, with the resilience
of extreme youth, he was soon speaking and understanding French as though he
were a French youngster. George too participated in the SHAPE Village school
program for awhile and also took to the French language quite easily, but we
later transferred him to an American school in Wiesbaden where he felt more at
ease with himself during those formative early teenage years.
As I look back on it, our three-plus years in Paris were among the most pleasant
and memorable years of my life. In the first place, Paris was a great city in
which to live. I had always been enamored of it since my first visit there in
1930. But this time, we were really able to explore it - all of it, from the
race tracks to the museums, the castles at Versailles and nearby Fontainebleau,
the great restaurants, the parks, and of course, the vibrant city itself.
We also did a lot of traveling. We traveled mostly by car in those days all over
Western Europe, sometimes with our sons, sometimes without them. It was great to
get out on the country roads and stop for lunch beside the roads with a hamper
full of good French wine and cheese and sausage and, of course, French bread.
Gerda had her little Renault Dauphine and we always had a Mercedes family car.
We traveled in both - even over the Alps to Switzerland and Italy in the
Dauphine. We also drove more than once to Spain where we explored virtually
every part of it, including the island of Majorca.
In recalling our days and years at SHAPE, I mustn't omit the American football
games we attended on many Fall weekend afternoons. We had some excellent
football players on the SHAPE team, one or two of whom were "All
Americans", so it wasn't like watching high school football. The
competitive teams were from various American military bases throughout Europe. I
especially remember, as we sat in the stand reserved for officers, how the many
multi-star Generals and Admirals from various European countries would clap
their hands reservedly when the SHAPE team would make a particularly good play,
and how Gerda, in her completely unreserved enthusiasm for American football
would yell "At-a-boy, Kill-em!", somewhat to the amazement of the
multi-star "brass," and their wives, most of whom knew she was of
European origin.
I made a special effort to improve my French while at SHAPE. I contacted a young
French student from the Sorbonne University and arranged to meet him during the
lunch hour at SHAPE Headquarters twice each week. His fees were very reasonable
in those days. He would give me a French book to read and when we met, we would
discuss it in detail (in French, of course) chapter by chapter. It was an
interesting and effective way to improve my fluency in the language.
I was also able to get in a little golf in Paris, thanks in part to my friend,
Milt Berzin, an American who had settled in Paris immediately following World
War II, and had made quite a fortune there. He had established a manufacturing
and trading company based in Paris which he called "Materiels et
Construction". (It is still thriving today, long after Milt's death.) This
company dealt in almost everything imaginable, at least during its early days,
from providing coal for American military bases in Europe, to providing advanced
electronic equipment to various countries throughout Western Europe and the
Middle East. Milt had built himself an elegant house overlooking one of the
fairways of the French golf courses at ST. Nom La Breteche outside Paris. His
next door neighbor on his left was Rene La Coste of international sportswear
fame and directly opposite his home on the other side of the fairway was the
home of the movie actress, Ingrid Bergman. St. Nom La Breteche had a magnificent
54-hole golf course among many other things including a beautiful stone
clubhouse where the dining facilities were really outstanding. The club
management always made it a point to have one of France's outstanding chefs to
take charge of the kitchens. We were very fortunate at SHAPE at that time to be
able to obtain "military membership" to this club for a nominal fee
compared to the very substantial fee paid by the regular members of the club. It
was a delightful place to play golf and to lunch and dine either at the club or
at Milt Berzin's home.
There were two occasions at St. Nom La Breteche which I shall remember for quite
some time. One was the first golf tournament of USAIRE (United States Aerospace
Industries Representatives Europe) which Milt Berzin sponsored. Milt also
provided a large 2-1/2 ft. high silver cup for the winner. With my handicap and
all, I was the first winner and had my name inscribed first on this
"prestigious?" cup. I don't know how many years thereafter the annual
USAIRE tournament took place, because I moved to Germany and only occasionally
found it convenient to play that marvelous St. Nom golf course.
The other occasion which I shall always remember also took place while I was
still living in Paris and was still a member of the St. Nom Club. I played one
day with two other fellows whom I knew well and at the last moment, with another
fellow who joined us. As we walked down the first fairway, one of my companions
said, "Roy, do you know who that fellow is?" I said, "No."
He said, "That is the exiled King Peter II of Yugoslavia." Although
royalty and pomp don't usually impress me, I still have a certain sense of
politeness and - what should I say - the appropriate thing to say. So, as we
turned toward the second tee, I addressed our fourth member as either "Your
Majesty" or "Your Highness," I forget which. He turned to me,
obviously a little perturbed, and said, "Roy, I would prefer if you just
called me Peter or Pete, as you prefer." I played with him once again and
was careful to call him Pete.
I think it was at about the end of my second year at SHAPE when I began to think
seriously about what I might do after retirement from the military. I thought
first that I might join Milt Berzin's organization, and he gave me every
indication that he would take my application seriously. He was quite a wise
fellow, however, and he suggested that I look around a bit for the next year or
so to be sure I knew what I wanted to do before making a decision.
It was at about this time that I decided to join an organization in Paris where
business opportunities were most likely to open up. I'm reluctant to admit that
after all these years I can't recall the exact name of the club. I think it was
either the Cercle Interalliee or the Club Interalliee. In any case, its meeting
place was on the Rue St. Honoree in downtown Paris. We had periodic luncheons
there attended normally by two hundred or more Western allied business men and
addressed by some of the most illustrious and sometimes colorful speakers in
Europe. I particularly recall having met and listened to one of the most
'colorful' types, namely Art Buchwald, who was living in Paris and writing for
the New York Herald Tribune at that time.
It was at one of these luncheons that I happened to sit next to a very
interesting and personable fellow by the name of Bob Camera. Bob was a retired
naval aviator, class of 1933, from the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, MD. At
the time I met him he was the sole representative of Westinghouse in Europe
whose primary duty was to promote the sale of Westinghouse Defense (military)
products, e.g., radars and sonars of various types and uses as well as certain
non-military products such as aircraft electrical systems. (I suppose that very
few Americans realize that more than 70% of aircraft electrical systems, e.g.,
generators, generator control units, etc., of the free world's aircraft are - or
at least were at that time - manufactured by Westinghouse.) Bob and his wife had
a very nice home in one of the most prestigious areas of central Paris where
Gerda and I spent some memorable evenings during our sojourn in Paris.
One Sunday morning at SHAPE Village, I received a telephone call from Bob. He
said he had a problem regarding the sale of a certain Westinghouse product to
one of the NATO countries, and wondered if I, with my various international
contacts at SHAPE, and my presumed knowledge of how they did business in the
field of defense products, might offer him any advice pertaining to this
particular problem. I told him I would think about it and let him know later.
But when I told Gerda about the telephone call, she said, "Don't you
realize that Bob is in a real quandary and needs help? Otherwise he wouldn't
call you on a Sunday morning. Why don't you call him back right away?" I
did so, and arranged to meet Bob that afternoon at his home. It was one of the
most important decisions I ever made. It turned out that his problem was not as
complicated as it first appeared to be, and after we arrived at a logical
solution, I changed the subject. I told Bob I was in the market for a job with
industry, preferably in the international field, and asked him to tell me
everything he knew about the Westinghouse international defense business - how
it was faring in Europe, what the problems were and what the prospects were. Bob
willingly did so. Upon returning to SHAPE Village, I sat down and wrote a letter
to Bob's boss in New York (with Bob's concurrence, of course) outlining the
current problems, as I understood them, and listing some twelve actions that I
thought might be appropriate and helpful in promoting the Westinghouse defense
business in Europe.
Shortly before my retirement from the Army, I was asked to come back to the
Westinghouse International Headquarters in New York and the Westinghouse Defense
Center in Baltimore for interviews. The result was that I was hired as of
midnight on the day of my military retirement, with the understanding that I
would undergo a "training period" of some two to three months at the
Baltimore Defense Center, after which I would be posted to Bonn, Germany, with
marketing responsibilities for Germany, Austria, Italy, Switzerland, Greece and
Turkey. Bob Camera was to be moved to London where he would have parallel
responsibilities for Great Britain, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Spain and
the Scandinavian countries.