McNamara remarked, in response to a specific question, that the lottery would be one means of eliminating some of the uncertainty and inequity of the present system, but in the context of his total theme it was a relatively minor point. The lottery presumably would provide a mechanism for separating, among the men capable of service, those who go to the military from those who will be allowed to pick alternatives. But McNamara indicated that he prefered the separation to be made by choice, not by chance. Young men should seek opportunities for service outside the military, he said, suited to their particular skills and interests." The lottery "hasn't been discussed much" in government circles.

McNamara cited his own experience in government as evidence of the tremendous opportunities and benefits of public service. "Too many people consider it dull," he said, "I don't consider it dull. . . . it isn't a sacrifice, it's an opportunity."

He believes his most important achievements in the Defense Department have been: the "rationalization" of planning in terms of costs and benefits, the provision for limitations on the use of nuclear weapons, and the proof that "the defense department can be run from the top as any large organization ought to be." The new management procedures will survive his departure, McNamara believes, because "public pressure" would prevent his successor from returning to the old hit-or-miss techniques of planning. "I don't think we can walk away from what we've done in the past five years."

Though restrained and formal during the taped WHRB interview, McNamara was relaxed and engaging in conversation afterward. His responses were concise, tightly reasoned point-by-point capsule analyses. But his passion for exhausting the possibility of every idea sometimes carried his logic further than he meant to go on the record. And at these points, one of his aides would remind the secretary that if he let the remark stand he would be quoted in such a way on this or that issue; and the secretary would regretfully take it off the record. After one of these reminders, McNamara grinned broadly at the reporters and said, "Oh, now they wouldn't publish that any way, would they?" They didn't.

McNamara was game for every question, occasionally quipping his way out to avoid embarrassment. After telling reporters that staying in government too long drained an official's "imaginative creative energy," he was asked whether he had anyone particular in mind. "Just one," he said grinning, "myself." When he was asked about "a more personal question" -- whether he might make a special arrangment with a particular draft board -- McNamara nodded in mock seriousness, and then burst into laughter.

The secretary carried a black raincoat and insisted that it be put next to his chair in the WHRB "or else I'll forget it." But he left it under his seat as he left the studio, and he was halfway out the door before he realized that he'd forgotten it. He turned vaguely to one of his aides, and then realizing where it was, stepped briskly back through the door to retrieve the coat himself. Leaving for Quincy House, he walked, crisp and business-like to a waiting car, his sleekly combed hair unruffled by the sharp wind overhead.