Thursday, October 4
The White House
John McCone had returned home from his honeymoon, and he had been in no mood to hear snide comments about his time away. Both Kennedys respected McCone, considered him a better fit for their version of the CIA than his predecessor, Allen Dulles. Dulles had been Eisenhower’s man, and it showed, Dulles tending to regard the new president as strictly an amateur, that the CIA were the professionals, and as such, their view of the world held sway. That had all changed with the disaster at the Bay of Pigs, and Kennedy was far more careful about who he regarded as the experts whose counsel he should take seriously. That description seemed to fit McCone.
They sat in the conference room, Bobby in his usual spot, standing close to one corner, McCone and the defense secretary, Robert McNamara, across from Kennedy. To one side sat McGeorge Bundy, along with a scattering of high-ranking aides, those who knew when it was time to speak. From the mood of those present, this was not the time.
McCone scanned a short stack of papers, said to the president, “Excuse me, sir, but I’m damn tired of the reports we’re getting from the Cubans. Our offices in Miami have been too eager to accept anything we hear at face value, and so far, those reports seem designed only to drag us into a war in Cuba. The operatives, as they call themselves, are far too concerned with their own political stance to help us with what we really want to know. I’m hearing too much of why we should invade first and ask questions later. My apologies for this, Mr. President. But I’ve learned that when a Cuban on the ground sees a truck carrying something covered in a tarp, he naturally assumes it to be the biggest baddest ICBM on the planet. Since we know the Soviets have very few of those, it’s unlikely they’re sending them to Cuba. Which means our info is at best juicy gossip, with a flair for the dramatic.”
“But we have seen missiles.”
“Everything I have seen points to Russian surface-to-air missiles, just as they continue to insist. I was surprised, sir, to find when I returned home that you have ordered the U-2 flights away from Cuban airspace. That only means that we’re in the dark. With so much Soviet activity in Cuba, with so many freighters unloading so much materiel, it’s not a comfortable place to be.”
Bobby leaned closer to McCone, said, “What do you suggest? You’ve been briefed as to why we moved the flights. We just didn’t want to risk another shoot-down.”
McCone turned, looked at Bobby, then back at the president.
“The U-2 is the most effective reconnaissance tool we have. Would you prefer we rely on those Cuban operatives?”
Bobby knew it was unusual for a CIA man to dismiss his own observers, and he knew that if McCone was this discouraged by the reports coming into his own offices, it was a good idea to take him seriously.
McCone stared hard at Kennedy.
“Mr. President, it is essential that we resume the U-2 flights over Cuba, no matter the risk. The number of Soviet ships has increased, and it’s folly that we don’t attempt to monitor what their cargo could be. As you know, sir, I have had my doubts about Soviet claims that their intentions are strictly defensive. It just doesn’t make sense that the Soviets would go to so much trouble just to construct a bunch of SAM missile sites. They must know that the SAMs alone would not deter us from invading Cuba, if that was our intention. Our first order of business would be to take them out, focus precision bombing strikes directly on the missile launchers. No, I believe the SAMs are there for something more important to the Soviets. I hesitate to say this again, sir, but you know my feelings. I am convinced the Soviets are planning to install offensive missile systems.”
Bobby said, “Why? What’s the point?”
McCone turned to face him.
“Cuba is the first piece of real estate that the Soviets have under their control that sits in direct proximity to the United States. How can we believe that Khrushchev wouldn’t see this as an opportunity he cannot pass up? He doesn’t have the capability to launch massive ICBM strikes out of Russia itself. Now, he doesn’t have to. He can use his stock of short- and medium-range missiles, which we know he has in his arsenal, to do that same job.”
Kennedy let out a deep breath, spoke now.
“Thus far, Khrushchev has shown no tendency to trust any of his allies to safeguard his nuclear missiles. There are no such missile sites in eastern Europe, for example. Everything is within the Soviet border. Isn’t Khrushchev taking a huge chance having these missiles out from under his direct control?”
“But, sir, they are under his control. It’s why the Cuban citizens are being kept away, why the only reports we receive come from scattered views of trucks from people who have not been allowed up close. The construction workers are Russians, the longshoremen, guards, their security, it’s all Russian. I wouldn’t trust Castro to manage something like this, and it’s apparent, sir, that Khrushchev doesn’t either. One more point, sir. If Khrushchev provides the Cubans with offensive weapons, it will wake up Cuba’s neighbors in Latin America. Who’s the next head of state who might ask Khrushchev to offer him the same kind of power? Prestige goes a long way.”
Kennedy stared down at the table in front of him, folded his hands.
“I can’t argue against your concerns. I share them. We held back the U-2s as a cautionary move, so as not to provoke the Soviets into something rash. Things are tender enough down there with all of Castro’s talk about how our invasion of Cuba is imminent. It doesn’t help that I’ve got senators bellyaching nonstop about how an invasion is exactly what we should do. The volume on that crap is louder now with the election a month away. But I know that anything we do that seems aggressive could be magnified to a point where Khrushchev feels he must respond. No one needs to be backed into a corner, certainly not the Soviets.” He paused, glanced at Bobby, then McNamara. “All right, we’ll resume the flights.”
McCone seemed to jump at Kennedy’s words.
“I suggest, sir, that we do flyovers of the entire island, with special emphasis on the western end. That seems to be the area where the most activity is taking place, closer to Havana. I would also focus on San Cristóbal.”
Kennedy said, “Why? What’s so special about that?”
McCone looked behind him now, at one of his subordinates in the room, Colonel Rufus Wright. McCone said, “Colonel Wright, now is the time.”
Wright stood, held a paper in his hand.
“Mr. President, as you know, I work for the Defense Intelligence Agency, and I have been in contact with Director McCone’s people regularly. One of my jobs has been to study the U-2 photographs in great detail and analyze just what we’re seeing.”
Kennedy said, “Go on. Is there something new?”
Wright shook his head, waving the paper.
“Not exactly, sir. It’s just that … around San Cristóbal, the Soviets have positioned their SAM missiles in a geometric pattern I’ve seen before. These patterns have been used by the Soviets as antiaircraft protection for important installations throughout the Soviet Union.”
“What kind of installations?”
“Their nuclear sites, primarily. They arrange their antiaircraft missiles for the greatest range of protection, as a matter of course. They set them up in a trapezoidal pattern, surrounding those important installations. That pattern is now repeated around San Cristóbal. I believe, sir, and I have suggested to my superiors at the DIA, that it would be prudent to focus a U-2 flyover in that area.”
Kennedy sat back, wiped a hand over a tired brow.
“Then, gentlemen, that is what we’ll do.”
DELAYED FOR TWO days by heavy cloud cover, the U-2s finally went airborne over Cuba on Sunday, October 14. The pilots were Air Force men, Major Rudolf Anderson Jr. and Major Richard Heyser, specially trained to adapt to the U-2s they now flew. Previously, the pilots had been CIA trained, but with the newly perceived danger these men might face in the air over Cuba, the decision had been made to place veteran Air Force pilots in the cockpits. The CIA met this change with considerable protest, but the decision came from the top, bolstered by assurances from Defense Secretary McNamara that it was the wisest course. After rapid lessons in the quirks of the CIA’s U-2s, the planes began their missions.
As ordered, the men photographed the length and breadth of Cuba, with special focus on the western third of the island. Surprisingly, they met with no opposition, no Cuban antiaircraft fire, though their film would show the Soviet surface-to-air missiles perched on their launchers.
Their mission complete, the pilots returned to their bases, where the film canisters were rapidly unloaded, and transported to the photo labs at the Defense Intelligence Agency. Here, trained experts did as they had done before, scanned the eight thousand feet of film frame by frame. Throughout a lengthy and tedious day, the men labored, making notes, charting the images that seemed to matter most. That evening, as official Washington began to enjoy a typical round of social gatherings and routine meetings, the experts continued their work, until finally, as darkness fell, the DIA’s chief, General Joseph Carroll made the first phone call. General Carroll reached out to the most senior man he could locate, the deputy secretary of defense, Roswell Gilpatric. In a manner of a few hours, the official word was transmitted to others, including McGeorge Bundy. It was Bundy’s decision not to inform the president, at least not yet. Kennedy had returned late from campaign stops, an exhausted, ailing man, and Bundy decided to allow him one more night’s sleep. The meetings could begin in earnest the next morning.
On Tuesday, October 16, Bundy arrived early at the White house, made his way up to the presidential residence, where he found Kennedy reading a newspaper in his pajamas. Bundy’s message to Kennedy was brief, and succinct.
“Mr. President, there is now hard photographic evidence, which you will see a little later, that the Russians have offensive missiles in Cuba.”