INTERNAL — STAFF USE ONLY
UNITED STATES AIR FORCE — OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF STAFF
THE DULLES MEMO: A Novel
MANUSCRIPT SEIZED 1978 / AUTHOR: [WITHHELD] / STATUS: UNPUBLISHED
PERSONNEL FILE
The General

Among the documents recovered from a sealed Air Force storage facility in 1977 was the following memorandum, apparently prepared by a staff officer assigned to General Curtis LeMay during his tenure as Air Force Chief of Staff. The memo compiles the General's reactions to several motion pictures released in 1963-64 depicting military leadership and civilian-military relations.

The file was stamped "PUBLIC AFFAIRS — REPUTATION RISK ASSESSMENT" and retained per standard document preservation protocols. Its value lies not in what it tells us about the films, but what it reveals about the mind of the man who commanded America's nuclear arsenal during the most dangerous years of the Cold War—and who harbored grievances against his Commander in Chief that he made no effort to conceal.

INTERNAL MEMORANDUM
SUBJECT
LEMAY, Curtis Emerson, General, USAF
Chief of Staff, United States Air Force (1961-1965)
FROM:
Lt. Col. Harold K. Patterson, Staff Aide
TO:
[FILE — Personal Notes]
DATE:
Various, 1962-1964 (compiled 1964)
SUBJECT:
General's Remarks RE: Recent Motion Pictures Depicting Military Affairs

The following notes were compiled during 1964, though they include remarks from as early as December 1962. The General's comments on recent motion pictures concerning military subjects were made in informal settings—office conversations, staff meetings, and social functions—and are recorded here for purposes of maintaining a record of the General's views on matters of public perception and military-civilian relations.

I have attempted to render the General's remarks accurately while maintaining readability. His language was frequently... direct.

BACKGROUND: THE CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS — OCTOBER 1962

To understand the General's state of mind during this period, context is necessary. During the Cuban Missile Crisis, General LeMay advocated forcefully for immediate military action against Soviet missile installations in Cuba. When the President chose a naval blockade and diplomatic resolution instead, the General reportedly characterized the outcome as "the greatest defeat in our history."

"We could have gotten them all out without a shot being fired. We had the capability. We had the moment. And we let it pass because the civilians got nervous."
— General LeMay, staff meeting, December 1962

The General made no secret of his view that the Kennedy administration had "lost its nerve" at the decisive moment. His contempt for civilian leadership, and for the President specifically, was expressed with increasing frequency during the two years that followed.

"The greatest defeat in our history." This from the man who had incinerated sixty-seven Japanese cities. Who had drafted the first-strike plans. Who believed, sincerely believed, that nuclear war was winnable—and that civilians who thought otherwise were cowards. He never forgave Kennedy for Cuba. He was still not forgiving him in Dallas. — CDJ
FILM I: "DR. STRANGELOVE" (JANUARY 1964)
DR. STRANGELOVE OR: HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE THE BOMB — Columbia Pictures, 1964
Stanley Kubrick satirical comedy depicting accidental nuclear war initiated by a deranged Air Force general. Features characters General Jack D. Ripper (Sterling Hayden) and General Buck Turgidson (George C. Scott), the latter widely understood to be based in part on General LeMay.
3 FEBRUARY 1964 — FOLLOWING STAFF SCREENING
General attended screening at invitation of Air Force Public Affairs liaison. Purpose was to assess "potential damage to Air Force image" from the film's theatrical release.
General lit cigar during opening credits. Did not extinguish it for duration of screening.
General's initial comment upon conclusion: "Soviet propaganda. Pure and simple. If the Kremlin didn't finance this picture, they should have."
On the character of General Ripper: "No Air Force general would initiate an unauthorized strike. The fail-safe systems wouldn't permit it. This is technically illiterate."
[Note: General spent approximately fifteen minutes explaining the actual fail-safe procedures, which he insisted made the film's premise "impossible."]
On the character of General Turgidson: "That buffoon is supposed to be me. I've been told that. Let me tell you something—" General's language became inappropriate for documentation. He characterized the filmmakers as "Communist sympathizers" and "cowards who never wore a uniform."
On the War Room scenes: "The War Room doesn't look like that. The President wouldn't be down there. None of this is how it actually works."
[Note: General's objections were almost entirely technical rather than thematic. He did not appear to recognize or acknowledge the satirical intent of the film.]
When staff officer Maj. Richardson suggested the film was "intended as comedy": "Comedy? What's funny about nuclear war? These people are making a joke out of the men who keep this country safe. It's disgusting."
STAFF OBSERVATION
The General appeared genuinely unaware that "Dr. Strangelove" was intended as satire. His objections focused exclusively on technical inaccuracies and what he perceived as deliberate misrepresentation of Air Force competence. The possibility that the film was critiquing the mentality he himself represented did not appear to occur to him.
He didn't get the joke. That's the terrifying part. The whole world watched "Dr. Strangelove" and laughed nervously because they recognized the madness Kubrick was depicting. LeMay watched it and complained about the set design. — CDJ
FILM II: "FAIL-SAFE" (OCTOBER 1964)
FAIL-SAFE — Columbia Pictures, 1964
Serious drama depicting accidental nuclear attack on Moscow due to technical malfunction. The President (Henry Fonda) must make terrible decisions to prevent full-scale war. Based on the novel by Eugene Burdick and Harvey Wheeler.
15 OCTOBER 1964 — GENERAL'S OFFICE
General viewed film privately. Called staff meeting afterward to discuss "what they got right this time."
General appeared more subdued than after "Strangelove" screening. Thoughtful. Almost approving.
"Now this is more like it. The military personnel in this picture act like professionals. They follow orders. They don't panic. That's how it would actually go."
On the military characters: "At least these men act like officers. They execute their orders. They don't question, they don't hesitate. That's how it works—until the politicians get involved."
On the President's decision to sacrifice New York to prevent full-scale war: "That's exactly backward. You never give them a free shot. You never negotiate from weakness. If Moscow goes, Moscow goes. You don't hand them New York as an apology."
[Note: General became increasingly agitated discussing this plot point. Referred to the fictional President as "another Harvard man who doesn't understand strength."]
When staff pointed out the film's anti-war message: "It's not anti-war. It's anti-weakness. The war happens because the President hesitates. Because he's afraid to do what's necessary. That's exactly what happened in Cuba. They had us, and we let them go."
He watched a film about the unthinkable horror of nuclear war and concluded the problem was insufficient aggression. Every message bounced off him like radar off a bunker. He could only see what confirmed what he already believed. — CDJ
FILM III: "SEVEN DAYS IN MAY" (FEBRUARY 1964)
SEVEN DAYS IN MAY — Paramount Pictures, 1964
Political thriller depicting a planned military coup against the President of the United States. General James Mattoon Scott (Burt Lancaster) plots to overthrow President Jordan Lyman (Fredric March) following the signing of a nuclear disarmament treaty with the Soviet Union. Based on the novel by Fletcher Knebel and Charles W. Bailey II.
SENSITIVE — BACKGROUND
President Kennedy personally supported the production of "Seven Days in May." According to press accounts, Kennedy believed the scenario was plausible enough that the American public should be "warned" about the possibility. He vacated the White House for a weekend to allow exterior filming. The General was aware of Kennedy's involvement with the production.
14 FEBRUARY 1964 — PENTAGON SCREENING ROOM
General declined formal screening invitation. Viewed film privately two days after theatrical release.
General did not discuss film at morning briefing. Uncharacteristically silent. Staff noted the General had requested a copy of the original novel.
17 FEBRUARY 1964 — PRIVATE CONVERSATION
Following a routine scheduling matter, General initiated discussion of the film.
General stood at window, back to aide. Spoke quietly. Did not make eye contact during remarks.
"The President helped make that picture. Did you know that? Kennedy. He thought it was important that Americans see it."
[Long pause. General did not elaborate on this point.]
On General Scott's motivations: "They make him a villain. But what does he actually want? He wants to protect the country. He thinks the treaty is dangerous—and he's right. He thinks the President is wrong—and he is. So what's the crime? Caring too much?"
"The President in that picture signs away our nuclear advantage. Signs it away! And we're supposed to cheer when the military man who objects gets caught? Who's the hero in that scenario?"
When asked if the film presented a valid concern about military overreach: "Overreach. There's a word. When a President signs a treaty that leaves us defenseless, that's not overreach. When generals who've devoted their lives to this country try to prevent a catastrophe, that's overreach."
[General turned from window. Made direct eye contact for first time.]
"The question isn't whether General Scott was right to do what he did. The question is whether he was right about the danger. If he was right about the danger, then everything else is just details."
ADDENDUM — STAFF OBSERVATION (CONFIDENTIAL)
General's remarks regarding "Seven Days in May" were notably different in character from his comments on the other films. Where "Strangelove" provoked anger and "Fail-Safe" prompted tactical critique, "Seven Days in May" produced something closer to... identification. The General appeared to view General Scott not as a cautionary figure but as a tragic one—a patriot undone by lesser men.

I feel obligated to note that at no time did the General advocate or endorse unlawful action. However, his clear sympathy for the film's antagonist, combined with his known views regarding the current administration, struck this officer as... significant.
Kennedy helped make a film about a military coup. He thought Americans should see it. He thought it could happen. Nine months later, he was dead. And the General who couldn't stop talking about military weakness and civilian cowardice? He was in the autopsy gallery at Bethesda, watching them cut open the President's body. Uninvited. Unexplained. — CDJ
ASSESSMENT: THE GENERAL'S WORLDVIEW
SYNTHESIS — PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS

Having served on General LeMay's staff for eighteen months, I offer the following assessment of his views as expressed through these and other remarks:

1. The General believes nuclear war, while catastrophic, is survivable and potentially winnable. He has stated this explicitly on multiple occasions.

2. The General believes civilian leadership, particularly the current administration, lacks the resolve necessary to confront the Soviet threat. He views this as an institutional failing, not merely a matter of personalities.

3. The General believes the outcome of the Cuban Missile Crisis was a defeat disguised as a victory, and that the Kennedy administration's unwillingness to use military force emboldened Soviet aggression.

4. The General appears to believe that military professionals have a clearer understanding of national security requirements than elected officials, and that this understanding should, in extremis, take precedence.

I do not know what use, if any, should be made of these observations. I record them for the file because I believe someone should.

—Lt. Col. H.K. Patterson

The aide saw it. A mid-level officer, trying to do his job, watching his commanding general slowly reveal that he believed civilian control was optional when the civilians were wrong. He filed these notes because he was frightened. He should have been. — CDJ
• • •
WHEREABOUTS — 22 NOVEMBER 1963

On the day President Kennedy was assassinated, General Curtis LeMay was in transit. He had been on a hunting trip in Michigan with members of the National Guard Association. Upon receiving news of the shooting, he flew directly to Washington—but not to the Pentagon.

General LeMay arrived at Bethesda Naval Hospital while the autopsy on President Kennedy was in progress. He entered the gallery above the autopsy room—the observation area typically reserved for medical personnel and officials with direct need to witness the procedure.

No record indicates who authorized his presence. No record indicates he was invited. No record indicates why the Air Force Chief of Staff felt it necessary to personally observe the dissection of his Commander in Chief.

He stood in the gallery, smoking his cigar, watching them work. The doctors noted his presence. They found it unusual. They said nothing.

Later, during the Warren Commission investigation, LeMay was not interviewed about his whereabouts on November 22nd. The Commission, which included Allen Dulles, did not consider the Air Force Chief of Staff a relevant witness.

Why was he there? What possible reason could the Chief of Staff of the Air Force have for watching them cut open the President? Grief? Curiosity? Making sure? No one asked. No one ever asked. The General stood in the gallery at Bethesda, watching them carve up the man he blamed for "the greatest defeat in our history," and seventy-two hours later Lyndon Johnson put Allen Dulles in charge of finding out what happened. The message couldn't have been clearer if they'd written it in the sky. — CDJ
• • •

The films of 1963-64 captured something true about the moment. The military men who had won the Second World War had grown old in the shadow of the bomb, certain they understood threats that civilians could not grasp. They had watched presidents hesitate, negotiate, compromise. They believed they knew better. Some of them believed that knowing better was enough.

"Seven Days in May" asked whether American generals would ever move against a President they considered dangerous to national security. Kennedy thought the question worth asking. He didn't live to see how the country would answer.

Curtis LeMay served until 1965, when Johnson eased him into retirement. In 1968, he ran for Vice President on George Wallace's ticket, still advocating nuclear strikes on Vietnam. He died in 1990, untroubled by questions never asked.

The aide's notes remained in a storage facility for thirteen years. Why they were preserved—why they weren't destroyed—is another question no one asked.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The aide, whoever he was, saw what he saw and wrote it down. He couldn't have understood the full pattern—the grievances accumulating in the Pentagon, in the CIA, in the Texas oil clubs, in the anti-Castro underground. He just saw his commanding general, the man with his finger on the nuclear trigger, watching a film about a military coup and asking "Who's the hero in that scenario?" And he thought: someone should know about this. But no one wanted to know. The Warren Commission had twenty-six volumes and not a single page about Curtis LeMay. The permanent record was silent. Only these notes remained—the observations of a junior officer who sensed something wrong and did the only thing he could: he wrote it down and put it in a file and waited for someone to ask the questions that no one ever asked. — CDJ]

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