But now as time passed without concrete action, both air-transport and aircraft production drifted into severe difficulties. Save for a curious chain of circumstances, it is unlikely that the aircraft industry could have survived the long wait for an air policy board. Following the resignation of Charles E. Wilson, the great president of General Electric, from the War Production Board where he had been a bulwark of strength, and the subsequent departure of Donald Nelson, Julius Krug became chairman. By that time reconversion had become a live subject and a young lawyer on Cap Krug’s staff, Mort Wilner by name, had become much exercised over the threatened extinction of the aircraft industry. While, under existing law, cessation of hostilities would automatically cancel all aircraft-production contracts, a provision in Section 102 of the Reconversion Act authorized the President to continue such contracts as could be shown to be clearly in the public interest. At Mort Wilner’s suggestion I took John E. P. Morgan, able manager of the association, and called on Cap Krug to suggest that he obtain in advance a list from the War and Navy Departments of such contracts as could be shown to be in that category, and hold it in readiness against an emergency.
Thus it happened that when President Truman returned from Potsdam, Cap Krug gave John Snyder a letter for the President’s signature, which John Snyder carried to Norfolk with him. In this letter addressed to the Secretaries of War and Navy, the President directed that the specific contracts primarily connected with research and development be continued in effect. On this slender thread the aircraft industry subsisted until Congress could make appropriations for a temporary program.
Meanwhile with both the aircraft manufacturers and the transport operators hanging on the ropes, a fortunate break occurred. Maj. Gen. Oliver P. Echols, United States Air Force, returned from duty with the military government in Germany and asked for retirement. Oliver had been to the Air Force Matériel Command what Admiral Moffett had been to BUAERO. Having lacked any interest in personal publicity, his name was not widely known, but his achievements had long been recognized by all those in a position to appreciate them. In a way he was reminiscent of the old aviation story about Charlie Lawrance, designer of Lindbergh’s Wright Whirlwind engine. When asked why he had received so little recognition, Charlie is reported to have asked, “Whoever heard of Paul Revere’s horse?” Now Oliver Echols had the qualities required of the president of the Aircraft Industries Association. He had the respect of the industry, the Air Force, and the Navy; he knew aviation; he was familiar with the routine of Washington; he had the respect of legislators; he was in sympathy with the principles of the association; and finally, because he had zeal for air power, he was willing to accept the appointment, though tired by arduous service.
Meanwhile, in an effort to crystallize opinion as to air policy, I had published a book called Air Power for Peace, which was issued early in 1945. Patterned on Mahan’s method, this little book reviewed the history of aviation and appraised the impact of air power upon the war. And though history was still in the making and available only in censored headlines, the conclusions drawn in the book were later supported by the reports of the postwar Strategic Bombing Surveys. In light of the extravagant claims that had been made for aviation, it was necessary to keep the book wholly objective and, therefore, like Mahan, hard reading.
The outstanding conclusion drawn from this study was the important place air transport had held in the war. When the sea had been blockaded by enemy submarines, air transport had retained freedom of movement. With the Japanese in control of sea communications to China, air transport had hurdled the Himalayan Hump. With access by sea to Europe and Africa denied by German submarines, air transport, even though hastily improvised, had not only surmounted the barrier, but had become in fact the safest, cheapest, and often the only means of communication. Important persons and critical materials were delivered at critical points often just in time to exercise decisive influence on the outcome.
This fact was the result of the mobility of the airplane. On the ground, where movement can take place in but two dimensions and is often restricted by physical obstacles, blockade is relatively simple. At sea, where movement is still in two dimensions, obstructions are fewer and blockade is more difficult. In the air, where movement is three dimensional, and fixed obstructions few, effective blockade becomes almost impossible. And since freedom of communication is vital to security, the basic strategy in both war and peace is to guarantee freedom of communication to one’s self and to deny it to an enemy. This must be the beginning and end of foreign policy and the basis of strategy in both war and peace. The actual performance of air transport in World War II therefore becomes one of the most vital factors of modern times. By comparison, the atom bomb is a dangerous explosive; air transport is a new key to economic, social, and military security.
While writing Air Power for Peace, I had been impressed by the need for presenting this point of view in another manner. In the case of sea power, Mahan, the historian, had deduced the lessons of history. But Hakluyt, the author, had helped create the history that Mahan recorded three hundred years later. Born in England, somewhere around 1553, Hakluyt had been depressed by the backwardness of his people. While on a visit to the Temple, his uncle had shown him a map of the world and had given him “a lesson in geography,” which had inspired him to “prosecute that knowledge and kind of literature.” After studying languages so as to be able to read whatsoever printed or written discoveries and voyages he found extant in many lands, he made himself acquainted with the chiefest captains at sea, the greatest merchants, and the best mariners. Hearing other nations extolled for their discoveries and notable enterprises, and depressed by the sluggishness of the English and their neglect of the opportunities afforded them, he undertook to edit the original journals and narratives with a view to showing that in sea power lay the means for abolishing squalor and poverty in England. Today Richard Hakluyt’s The English Voyages is one of the English classics.
Having in mind the possibility of utilizing his method for the air-power story, I looked around for material. However, Americans seldom pause to record their observations, as did the explorers and merchants of the pre-Elizabethan era, and I was forced to fall back on my own experience. Fortunately, this had been varied and I had played in the backfield of a number of Bowl games. The air-power story might be told from my own point of view.
Decision to undertake this, plus a number of other circumstances, including a visit to a hospital, prompted me to resign from business. In order to approach the task objectively, I found it necessary to detach myself from active operations. Since we had long ago laid the groundwork for bringing a younger generation into the picture, nothing seemed to stand in the way.
With the passage of time, the situation in aviation became more critical. Then at the moment when both air transport and aircraft production showed staggering losses, we got an unexpected assist from the Bear That Walks Like A Man. When he began showing his claws, a great public clamor arose in the United States and was quickly heard by sensitive Washington ears. Whatever the politicians may have missed about air power, the American people knew the answer. On July 22, 1947, the United States Congress passed an act to provide for the establishment of a temporary Congressional Aviation Policy Board. Four days earlier, on the eighteenth of July, the President appointed his temporary Air Policy Commission. The Congressional Aviation Policy Board, under the chairmanship of Senator Owen Brewster, of Maine, was made up of senators and representatives. The President’s Air Policy Commission, under the chairmanship of Mr. Thomas K. Finletter, consisted of the chairman and four civilians. Now where we had asked for one investigation, we got two.