“Your call, Colonel,” Frade said. “Do I leave or not?”
After a long moment, Graham said, “Put the cork back in that wine bottle and sit down.”
Frade did so.
“This is your call, Allen,” Graham said. “So tell him.”
“I would rather you did, Alex. But if you insist . . .”
“What specifically do you want to know, Major Frade?” Graham asked.
“Tell me what’s going on with SAA. Start there, please.”
Graham began: “Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely—”
“John Edward Dalberg-Acton, First Baron Acton, 1834 to 1902,” Dulles offered.
Graham glowered at him for a moment, then chuckled.
“Princetonians, Major Frade,” Graham said, “among other obnoxious habits, never lose an opportunity to show off their erudition. You may want to write that down.”
Dulles chuckled.
Graham went on: “The case at hand being that of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Not only does he believe himself incapable of making a mistake in judgment, but considers anyone who dares challenge him to be disloyal and therefore to be punished.
“You’ve heard this before, I’m sure, but let me quickly recap it. Colonel Charles A. Lindbergh made the mistake of challenging FDR in several ways. First, he was active in the America First movement, which organization—headed by Senator Robert A. Taft—held that our involvement in a war in Europe would be disastrous.
“Next, while in Europe, prewar, he made the mistake of accepting an award for his contributions to aviation from fellow aviator—the former commander of the Richthofen Squadron, now commander of the Luftwaffe—Hermann Göring. Lindbergh compounded this grievous error by saying that in his judgment—and he was, after all, an Air Corps reserve colonel—the Luftwaffe was the best air force in the world, and not only because it was the largest.
“Such behavior, such disloyalty, could not be tolerated, of course. The first thing FDR did was tell the Air Corps they were not to call Colonel Lindbergh to active duty under any circumstances. Lindbergh then continued to work for Juan Trippe at Pan American Airways.
“This directed Roosevelt’s anger to Trippe. ‘How dare someone give employment to a scoundrel like Lucky Lindy?’ Trippe was told to fire him. He objected, and I understand there was a nasty scene before Trippe finally gave in to FDR’s wrath.
“Lindbergh then went to work for Lockheed.
“But Roosevelt was not finished with Trippe. How to punish the owner of an airline? By starting up another airline to compete with him. Where? What about Argentina? We have—that’s the regal ‘we,’ of course—the OSS down there, right? So FDR summons Wild Bill Donovan and tells him to have the OSS start up an airline; he will see the aircraft are provided.
“Donovan thought the idea was insane. And so did I when I heard about it. But Donovan knew better than to make an issue of it. Both of us are aware of the dangers of arguing with Roosevelt—which, incidentally, since we are making you privy to things you shouldn’t know, have grown more dangerous since FDR’s health is failing—so we arranged to have airplanes sent to Argentina and told you to set up an airline.
“At that time—as I didn’t want what I considered to be the airline nonsense to interfere with the other things you are doing down there—I told you there would be no OSS connection to your airline. But then . . .”
Graham paused and gestured for Dulles to pick up the narrative.
Dulles nodded and said, “Alex and I had rather urgent matters to discuss; we arranged to meet at an airfield in Newfoundland. Alex showed up in a Constellation flown by our mutual friend Howard. I had never seen one, nor knew anything of its capabilities. Once they had been explained to me, we decided that Constellations could be very useful to us.”
Graham picked up the narrative again: “If I had gone to General Arnold and asked for Constellations for the OSS, he probably would have laughed at me. But Donovan could see their potential value. So he went to FDR and very skillfully
suggested that the way to really stick it to Juan Trippe was to provide the airline we already had in Argentina with aircraft with which they could fly all over South America—Constellations—and possibly even establish service across the Atlantic.
“Roosevelt was enchanted with the idea. So you got your Constellations.”
“And what am I supposed to do with them?” Frade asked.
“So far as Donovan and Roosevelt are concerned, all you are doing, so to speak, is rubbing Juan Trippe’s nose in the mud. SAA is flying scheduled service between South America and Europe; Pan American is not. When the war is over, SAA will have a tremendous advantage over Pan American.”
“And as far as you two are concerned?” Frade asked.
“That’s what Colonel Graham has wisely changed his mind about telling you,” Dulles said. “Recognizing not only that you do, in fact, have the Need to Know, but that it would not be wise to keep you in the dark.”