On the Right

Honolulu, Dec. 8—Admiral John McCain is busy in the same excruciatingly geometric way that the powerful get busier as their responsibilities increase. He is technically in charge of the Pacific area; indeed even General Abrams who is directly in charge of the Vietnamese operation reports directly to CINCPAC Hawaii (Commander in Chief Pacific) according to the chart, which is to say to Admiral McCain. But there are all those other duties. On November 29 he hurtled out of his residence in order to greet the astronauts from Apollo 12 who were freshly arrived on the Hornet, en route to Houston. They engaged together, through the microphone, in heroic pleasantries and congratulations. (President Nixon had just spoken with the astronauts over television, delivering a little graduation address jocularly promoting them to the rank of Captain.) The astronauts, all three of whom are in the Navy, just to show that they were once again truly earthbound, produced a streamer visible through the porthole of their quarantined quarters: Beat Army. Admiral McCain was pleased. Although he suppressed any untoward expression of factionalist enthusiasm. After all, he is in charge not only of the U.S. Navy, but of the U.S. Army, and also the Air Force.

The Admiral is a man of formidable character and charm. He might have served as the character around whom the entire concept of the tight ship was crystallized. He is of the school that understands the nature of duty, and is quite prepared to face the consequence, as a realistic matter, that duty can be unpleasant, which isn’t exactly how he would put it, given asheisto saltier description. He does not wear publicly his private badge of sorrow, which the visitor is discretely informed about, namely that he has a son, a prisoner of the North Vietnamese, shot down in action, in uncertain health, held virtually incommunicado.

About the Author

William F. Buckley Jr.

William F. Buckley Jr. founded National Review magazine in 1955.

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Honolulu, Dec. 8—Admiral John McCain is busy in the same excruciatingly geometric way that the powerful get busier as their responsibilities increase. He is technically in charge of the Pacific area; indeed even General Abrams who is directly in charge of the Vietnamese operation reports directly to CINCPAC Hawaii (Commander in Chief Pacific) according to the chart, which is to say to Admiral McCain. But there are all those other duties. On November 29 he hurtled out of his residence in order to greet the astronauts from Apollo 12 who were freshly arrived on the Hornet, en route to Houston. They engaged together, through the microphone, in heroic pleasantries and congratulations. (President Nixon had just spoken with the astronauts over television, delivering a little graduation address jocularly promoting them to the rank of Captain.) The astronauts, all three of whom are in the Navy, just to show that they were once again truly earthbound, produced a streamer visible through the porthole of their quarantined quarters: Beat Army. Admiral McCain was pleased. Although he suppressed any untoward expression of factionalist enthusiasm. After all, he is in charge not only of the U.S. Navy, but of the U.S. Army, and also the Air Force.

The Admiral is a man of formidable character and charm. He might have served as the character around whom the entire concept of the tight ship was crystallized. He is of the school that understands the nature of duty, and is quite prepared to face the consequence, as a realistic matter, that duty can be unpleasant, which isn’t exactly how he would put it, given asheisto saltier description. He does not wear publicly his private badge of sorrow, which the visitor is discretely informed about, namely that he has a son, a prisoner of the North Vietnamese, shot down in action, in uncertain health, held virtually incommunicado.