Interesting thoughts

The following thoughts and notes are provided for a basis of comparison between today's media coverage of military events and that of World War II, historical highlights, and points of perspective. Any and all of these points may be used as the basis of a feature article.

We are losing World War II veterans at a rate of 1,200 per day

The World War II Memorial was dedicated in Washington D.C. in May 2004

World War II was the only war in which the lines between officers and enlisted personnel of the press were blurred. As far as the press was concerned, covering a global war was entirely different than "Desert Storm" or "Iraqi Freedom." In WWII, the officer class handled only the administrative duties of a publication while the enlisted man handled the editorializing and reporting of a publication or a radio news cast.

In "Iraqi Freedom," much was made of the embedded reporter concept. In Iraq, embedded reporters were everywhere in the conflict. In World War II, the entire idea of having a reporter, photographer or artists train and engage actively in the shooting war and place themselves in harm's way was routine. The great reporter, Ernie Pyle indeed was "embedded" when he lost his life in the sands of a tiny island called Ie Shima as he landed covering the landing of Marines on the island. Walter Cronkite, renowned anchorman for CBS and Andy Rooney of The Stars and Stripes, and later "Sixty Minutes," were "embedded" when they went over with the bombers to strike blows on German held Europe. George Hicks of ABC news was "embedded" when he went on to the beach with troops at Normandy to describe on radio the invasion of D-Day, June 6, 1944. U.S. Marine Corps combat correspondents were "embedded" and actually trained to do the same things as the man they covered, including shooting down the enemy and writing about it and photographing it.

In World War II, the U.S. military and civilian media jointly led the greatest information and ink explosion in the history of warfare. The effort was unequalled in any future war, including "Iraqi Freedom," despite modern media having available the most sophisticated equipment ever developed for covering a war.

World War II saw the legislation that created the GI Bill for Education. The legislation was written by Army educators, promoted by the press, and passed by Congress on June 22, 1944.

World War II required coverage of more terrain, over a greater period of time, than any military conflict to date. Korea, the Vietnam War, "Desert Storm," the Gulf War, Somalia, Afghanistan and "Iraqi Freedom" covered limited space and terrain, and with the exception of Vietnam, a much shorter period of time than did World War II.

I’VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU! PROFILE—TALKING MY WAY THROUGH THE 20TH CENTURY BY CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY ALUMNUS, DR.JACK E. PULWERS

If I had to do it all over again, I guess I would. But surely after sixty-five years one would fade after “hitting the pavement,” chasing ambulances, fire engines, running into two-time-losers and saving a few lives here and there, in the Army for a couple of years in WWII; in between, rearing six children, and becoming father to nine more, getting four academic degrees, teaching seventeen years; attending five hundred graduations, being the youngest disc jockey in the country, running a country music band, conducting fifty one thousand radio and television interviews, producing 350 broadcast documentaries, being chief cook and bottle washer for ABC and Armed Forces Radio and Television, serving as Public Affairs Officer for the Department of Defense and the Army, writing, Lord knows how many, essays and books; one might ask are you tired? And the answer would come ringing true and clear with a resounding, “You bethcha!” But before I pass into the old rocking chair, I would like to reflect back just a little into the concavity of my mind’s eye and project some of the greater moments of my life when I interviewed some of the world’s greatest and least great human beings.

Ah! Those were wonderful times in those budding days of broadcasting’s golden years the fifties and sixties! I think about a Pope’s first visit to America; about the saintly, Pope Paul the Sixth, when he came to New York, and I followed his car all the way through the caverns of Gotham? I even recorded his progress on Audio Fidelity Records. It is the only one of its kind.

Perhaps, it was with the sweetest gentlest, lady of them all, Eleanor Roosevelt, in what I believe to be the last interview she gave on earth; the same marvelous woman who told me that her life’s ambition was first and foremost to feed the poor and help the blind.

There was that scary day when I tripped down to the wharf at New York’s waterfront while they were hauling gangster “Lucky” Luciano’s body down from the gang walk of a ship from overseas only to be carried to final rest. And I picked up my little mike and tape machine and ventured over to a long black car with curtains and a man up front dressed in navy blue pin stripes, adorned by a carnation and a fedora gray hat crowning a salt and pepper head. He scowled at me and said “Who are you, guy?” I said, “Powers, ABC News.” He said “You’re lookin’ at the box carrying a great man and a great American! He gave his money to Ruusvelt and won the war! Don’t you know? I know cawz I’m Lucky’s brudder and don‘fuget wat I toll ya!” I got out of there so fast, it would make your head swim!

There was Malcom X in the first interview ever given to a white man in his Harlem book store behind the beaded curtain off of 125th street, NYC. Despite the immaculately dressed three armed body guards surrounding us, Malcom was gentle and considerate and most responsive to my questions on the future of his people.

The most difficult and so-called inaccessible man to talk with, was easy as pie for me when I got hold of Robert Moses the great New York planner, developer, and entrepreneur, builder of parks, bridges and the New York World’s Fair, a legend in his time, a real pussycat. I broke the isolation barrier and Mr. Moses told me his life’s story on ABC.

There was Milton Berle, a laugh-a minute, fabulous Red Skelton, the marvelous Bob Hope, Jack Benny and George Burns. Also, came the inimitable Cassius Clay, and a turn-the-tables interview with my colleague at ABC in those golden days, the relentless and persevering broadcaster Howard Cosell.

Another dandy interview was with that remarkable athlete and humorist, my roommate at LSU, Y. A. Tittle. The greatest politician of them all, not Huey, but brother Governor Earl, ole “Uncle Earl” Long, interviewed by me as he came out in his pajamas, drunk as a cootie, on the steps of the Louisiana Governor’s mansion. As the late great TV cook from the bayou, my friend and colleague, Justin Wilson, put it, “the mosquitoes were so bad that night that they made you feel you were being attacked by a dozen “ big birds”.

The most gentle and wonderful comedian for children, “Soupy” Sales, was a great friend and gave me a splendid interview when I was at WXYZ in Detroit. More interviews came from the almost President and Governor of Michigan, George Romney;Governor of New York Nelson Rockefeller;New York Senator Jacob Javits; Mayor Robert Wagner; and the radiant movie stars, Ginger Rogers, Claudette Colbert, Rita Hayworth; musicians, Xavier Cugat; trumpeter Harry James; orchestra leaders, Sammy Kaye, Stan Kenton, Jan Garber, Lawrence Welk, Kay Kayser; singers Helen Forest, Dinah Shore, Johnny Desmond, “Tennessee Ernie” Ford, Hank Williams, Ernest Tubb, Red Foley and Roy Acuff.

Among all these glorious people. I must add three more interviews, which without question seemed to tower by comparison with all of the rest of the great and near great.

20th Century Profile:On March 2 ,1960, I was at McGuire Air Base in New Jersey, when that talented, greatest rock and roll singer of them all, Elvis Presley, stepped off the plane, and gave me an interview in the hanger thirty five minutes later. He had just landed coming home from Europe wearing the uniform of the U. S. Army. I was alone with Elvis for those few minutes before the mob started to descend on him. Elvis was so glad to be back and as he talked to me tears rolled down his face, and he told ABC listeners that he was so happy to have served his country and was so glad to be home. He whispered into my mike and said, “Jack, you know, I was so happy to talk with those guys, my friends in the Army and made them happy and we all thought of home together as I sang ‘America the Beautiful’ there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. ‘You know,” he said, “you could hear a pin drop as I read off the names on the letters that were given to me by wives and sweethearts to pass on to the troops. I wouldn’t have traded those moments for a million dollars.” I left Elvis behind as I tore up the Jersey Turnpike in a rickety old station wagon with bare tires, in the worst blizzard in thirty five years. As my car went dead in the driveway of my house, I thought how lucky I was that day to get Elvis on the air and make it home alive.

20th Century Profile:

February 8, 1964, as News Director of WABC, I had the first and exclusive interviews with the fabulous Beatles in their first trip to the United States. We had the special deal with Capital Records that we would get to talk with the Beatles first and exclusively. So, along with Cousin Bruce Morrow, my colleague and fantastic disc jockey, as well as DJ Scott Muni, we trepzed up to the Plaza Hotel at the edge of Central park. Brian Epstein greeted us and sat by our side as I turned on the interview tape. We rolled on for three hours and fifteen minutes. BBC was on at the other end and ABC went live part of the way as well as WABC on radio. Cameras clicked and flashed away. First, there was Ringo. He was a “jolly good” kidder and we roared with laughter as he poked fun at Paul McCartney and George Harrison, whom he said always “knocked heads together and got tangled up in their mike wires.” The drummer laughed and told me he “would try to ‘drum’ something up for me to say later.” John Lennon was almost statuesque and was the most somber of the four. He rarely cracked a smile and somehow didn’t look straight into your face, but would sort of turn away, as if he were thinking rather deeply and he appeared somewhat strained and tired. He said little. Certainly, John was pleasant. George was in good humor as was Paul. George, who did most of the talking, told the story of how they got started singing in the music business in the pubs. Brian cut in and told about the time the four were at “The Barge” pub on the Thames with the group filming. Paul talked about the filming of “Yellow Submarine.” Both of these talkative Beatles spoke about their plans for the future as to how they wanted to see the American West, the mountains, an Indian or two, and George said “with quite a few cowboys thrown in for good measure.” They got their wish later. My time was done. I had “Beatled’ out after three hours running with the world’s most popular entertainers. Then it was off the next day to the CBS, “Ed Sullivan Show.” But for 24 hours we at ABC ruled the roost and I had the unbelievable news scoop of the century and knew it too. Boy! Were we brazen! Maybe someday we will be forgiven for our “big-shot ism!” But for those few hours we were in high dudgeon. And if you were us “you wouldn’t be begrudgin’”

20th Century Profile:

I never will forget what I regarded as my pride and joy interview of them all. I was sitting at the WABC news desk wondering what we were going to do for news one morning when I saw on the AP news wire that former President Truman was in town. My assistant, Tom Glennon, said, “Hey guy, betchya you’ll never get Truman for an interview!” I said, “Betchya fifty I get him and you’re on!” I laid fifty to cover the bet and I picked up the phone, called the hotel and asked the operator, “Please give me President Truman’s suite.” In a moment, a sharp “Hello!” I said, “Who is this?” The voice said “It’s Truman.” I said, “Mr. President, I didn’t know it was you! I’m Jack Powers of ABC news.” He said, “Well get on with it.” I choked out a reply, “I would like to interview you while you are in New York.” The quick, snappy voice at the other end rang out “Well, if you want to see me, ya better get over here in 20 minutes or I’ll be gone!” I flew out the door; took a cab cross Central Park to the hotel and went up to the Truman suite. When I got off the elevator, I found Mr. Truman waiting in the hallway outside his room. He was sitting on the small bench beneath the window. He greeted me curtly and said “Sit down, young man. Let’s get on with it.” I started rolling my tape. “Mr. President,” I said “How did you feel after you left Washington” He laughed, “I was damned glad to get out of the place. There is nothing like home and Missouri. Oh! I had some great times while was in D.C., made a lot of friends, but the critical part was keeping to the grindstone and to save this country. So there was less time for socializing, and besides the Mrs. didn’t like Washington at all and wanted to get home, ASAP. So, I accommodated that wish.” Then, the former President talked about his life in Missouri and how he spent time planting flowers and talking with his neighbors. He told me how and why he removed MacArthur from duty, I asked him why he dropped the A-bombs and how he felt about it. He answered, “I had to, we had to end the war, once and for all, and I felt this was the best and the only way to do it. By the way, where were you, young man, at the end of the war?” he asked. I replied, “I was in a replacement unit in the infantry, heavy weapons, at Camp Wolters, Texas, Sir! We were getting ready to be sent in the forefront of the invasion at Tokyo Bay, when you dropped the bombs in August, Sir!” I had WABC looped in by this time, and we were getting ready in ten minutes to go with the tape and the Truman answer! He thought and pondered a moment, and then said, “I ordered those bombs dropped and a million lives were spared from that invasion.” He hesitated again. I cued him on. “What sir? Please go on!” He lifted his face, pursed his lips, smiled, waved a hand in the air, and triumphantly said, “By God, I saved your ass, son!” In all my days, no one ever exceeded that interview before or since. In all its blazing and radiant best, there was no way to beat that one. I see a thousand faces and hear a thousand voices, 20th century profiles, running through my brain, but the great little man’s voice, that man from Missouri, topped them all.

Jack Pulwers