The Foreign Service Journal, July-August 2009

J U LY- A U G U S T 2 0 0 9 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 41 Linebaugh, both of whom also went on to distinguished For- eign Service careers) than by many Foreign Service col- leagues, who were “considerably more rigid in their points of view than I was.” On one occasion, he commented that “the brightest and most imaginative people were on the economic side, but they were not Foreign Service officers.” Many of those people were, like Battle, sympathetic to the New Deal, and thus suspect to those worried about “leftist infiltration” into the Foreign Service. Battle was one of many former military officers entering State Department service in 1946. Among them was an indi- vidual whose importance to Battle’s career is second only to Dean Acheson’s. Carlisle (Carl) Humelsine had served during the war as an assistant to General George C. Marshall, man- aging his incoming messages and organizing his daily brief- ings. A Time magazine article in 1950 described Humelsine as “relaxed and resourceful” and as “never having taken the time to be measured for striped pants.” Only three years older than Battle, whom he had come to know well, he was selected byMarshall —who in Jan- uary 1947 replaced James Byrnes as Sec- retary of State— to direct a newly created executive secretariat. When Dean Acheson replaced the ail- ing Marshall in January 1949, he immedi- ately asked Humelsine to stay on as execu- tive secretary, later promoting him to under secretary for administration. An- other top priority for Acheson was to lo- cate a special assistant on whom he could rely. On Humelsine’s recommendation, Acheson interviewed only one candidate — Luke Battle — for that job. In the in- terview, Acheson praised the courage Bat- tle had shown in standing up to him and Ray Atherton on the wood-pulp issue. It was a quality, Acheson suggested, that Battle would need, because he risked becoming “the most un- popular man in the department” by standing between Ache- son and senior officers. With his selection of someone from outside the traditional Foreign Service as his closest personal aide, Acheson wanted to send a strong message. As under secretary to James Byrnes, he had fought a bitter and ultimately losing struggle with For- eign Service traditionalists and their congressional allies over his attempts to implement a decision by Truman to have the Secretary of State assume primary responsibility for foreign intelligence programs. If fully implemented, this decision would have averted the creation of an independent Central Intelligence Agency, about which Acheson expressed the “gravest foreboding” to Truman. (A small part of the loss was later recouped when State’s residual intelligence functions were removed from the regional offices and centralized in what was to become the Bureau of Intelligence and Research.) Acheson, who submitted his resignation over Secretary Byrnes’ failure to support him, angrily blamed a combination of misguided elitism, a knee-jerk defense of turf and “morbid anti-communism” for the vehement opposition to the proposal within the department. Among the leaders of that opposition was the then-chief of the Near Eastern Division, Loy Hen- derson. The anger from this episode was to linger, resurfac- ing in an unexpected way during Battle’s tenure as president of AFSA in the 1960s. “The Battle Area Was Secure and Sound” Battle demonstrated many skills beyond fortitude in the process of winning Acheson’s total trust, of course. He worked long hours under severe pressure without fading, accompanying Acheson on all of his trips. His organizational talent and drafting ability —Acheson frequently did not bother to check his memoranda before they were distributed — were also evi- dent. In describing their relationship, however, one must begin with the fact that the two men, separated by more than a generation, became extraordinarily close. In his memoir, Present at the Creation , Acheson writes: “Bothmy wife and I came to have the same regard and affection for Luke Battle that we had for our son.” The two families spent a great deal of time to- gether long after the professional relation- ship came to an end. Perhaps the best source for understanding the personal side of the relationship from Acheson’s per- spective is the series of letters that Battle received from him after the conclusion of their working relationship. One such letter, dated July 19, 1952, reads in part: “You must get happi- ness as you think back over these past years, because you have done every part and facet of this task perfectly. It hasn’t been easy. I am not easy. The whole setting has been somber. There have beenmajor andminor prima donnas at every turn. …But you have never wavered from your concern for me and my duties. I have always been sure that the Battle area was se- cure and sound.” To Acheson’s credit, he expected Battle to demonstrate in- dependence of mind and spirit in their working relationship. Acheson appreciated that he himself could be a “prima donna” on occasion, especially when his anger was aroused, and that he needed someone like Battle to protect him fromhimself. “I dictate the letters. …Luke tears themup,” he wrote. But Bat- Lucius Battle with Dean Acheson (un- dated photo). Photos courtesy of Lynne Battle