"That must be pretty bad." Kenn?dy laughed.

Neustadt continued, "We're not prepared to work quietly anymore. We want you to know; we want Henry to know. Civilian control of the military is sufficiently at stake that congressional control of the President is urgently needed. This leaves us executive-branch lovers in tough shape-but it has to be said." He gulped at his pipe.

Kennedy said, "I've met with a few student leaders, and I've got a terrific insight into the intensity of student involvement. I think personally that now's the time to get something through Congress. You gentlemen have extraordinary contacts; you could work wonders." There ensued a long discussion of tactics. Kennedy said the important thing was to get as many votes as possible for the Hatfield-McGovern amendment now, even if it loses. "We can work around the gymnastics of letting people change their minds later." As the names flew around the room, Bator and Yarmolinski, at least, were clearly enjoying themselves tremendously. This part of the game was not entirely foreign to them.

Holton said, "This is a watershed. Most students don't even believe in Congress anymore. Congress can save the President from himself, and save the credibility of the system. That's why action on your part is so important. All the time-scales now coincide. We have an election in 1972. The remaining young people who aren't alienated now will be if the war isn't over by that time."

Neustadt added, "I think it's safe to say we're afraid."

But Schelling countered, "If Cambodia succeeds, it will be a disaster not just because my Harvard office may be burned down when I get home, but it will even be a disaster in Laird and Packards own terms. It's not the speech, not the action even, but what if all says about the way decisions are being made, that makes old conservatives like Neustadt and myself come out of the woodwork."

Kennedy suggested they talk to Senate majority leader Mike Mans-field. When they mentioned it might be difficult to get an appointment for the next few days, Kennedy picked up the phone and had them an appointment in ten minutes. As they rushed out the out the door, Kennedy handed Capron a flyer about the memorial service.

"That's the first time I've ever been leafleted by a Senator," Capron said.

IT WAS quite a sight to see twelve senior Harvard Faculty members chasing down the halls of the Senate Office building, shouting at each other like little boys, "Wait for me!" and "Well then keep up, damn it!" As they crowded into the elevator, Bator explained "Mansfield knows we favor the other side-the executive. He will be impressed that the author of Presidential Power (nods to Neustadt) is going to him to say that he is now ready to risk 'mobocracy.'" The little electric trolly that runs between the Senate office buildings and the Capitol is fun for all ages. The gang poured abroad. Bator smiled, "The last time I rode this trolley, I was lobbying for some obscure textile bill and I thought I was on a foray into enemy territory."

The meeting with Mansfield was brief. In the cab on the way back, Neustadt said, "He's a man who gave the soundest advice of any senior member of government in 1964 and '65. But no one listened."

Bator said, "Unlike other Senators, he never grandstands. On the McGovern amendment he's playing majority leader while trying to build bipartisan support. He realizes how vulnerable Congress is when playing with Constitutional issues while 'our boys are dying.' He's just pushing for as much as he can get. But he just has no charisma."

"We really need Ted now," Neustadt sighed.

The cab rounded a corner and the White House came into view-which cheered them both up considerably. "Since 1945 I've been either in the White House or next door. To be doing this-" a wave of his pipe at the activities of the day "-boy, it's something else."

THE MOMENT they'd all been waiting for was now at hand-the meeting with Kissinger. Dean May had arrived at the hotel in time for a last-minute strategy session, so at about 1:15 they all strolled together across Lafayette Park and into the White House basement to "shock Henry into realizing he's living on the other side of the moon." Will Henry realize he's living on the other side of the moon?

FRANCIS BATOR leaned back in his Littauer Center office a few days after the excursion to Washington. "You might ask me," he suggested, "Why not get an appointment with the President?' " I obliged.