"We said to Henry, we said to Mr. Packard that the military-civilian imbalance today is the greatest threat to the Presidentcy since MacArthur and Truman. I myself don't see anything that can restore military credibility."

Konrad Bloch, Higgins Professor of Biochemistry, said. "It was the straight-forward drivel. It's like leaving the radio on. Later Packard started talking about Stanford-he said it is infiltrated by a hard core that will have to be eliminated. He said tension in this country will have to come to a head some day, and it might as well be now."

Walzer commented. "It's one of the most frightening things we head all day."

A bellhop brought Pepsi and Michelob for the overheated professors. Bator had iced coffee. The phone rang. Bator answered it.

"Hello, Averill!" He smiled. "Well hello governor! Yes governor, I'm here. This is Francis." As Bator talked to Harriman, Yarmolinsky dashed to the extension phone in the bathroom to listen. "Yes governor, well Scotty said..." When Bator finished Yarmolinsky started talking on the bathroom extension. Neustadt quickly established possession of the bedroom phone. Alarmed to discover the conversation wasn't over. Bator scurried to the bathroom to listen in when Yarmolinsky was finished. Finally they all said goodbye and hung up."That was Averill." Bator explained. The professors nodded appreciately, put on their coats, and poured back out of the room for their meeting with Undersecretary of State Eliot Richardson, muttering at McGrory in the Star over each other's shoulders.

THE meeting with Richardson was long, but uninspiring. It began at 5:30 and the professors did not return to the Hay-Adams until ten minutes of 8 p.m. All the professors except Yarmolinsky. Lipset and Neustadt were trying to catch a 9 p.m. plane. These three had promised to appear at a meeting of Everett Mendelsohn's larger Harvard student-Faculty delegation-the Peace Action Strike-at the Cleveland Park Congregational Church that evening. So the professors washed up, took their messages (Max Frankel of the New York Times for Yarmolinsky: National Educational Television, which wanted Schelling to debate Herb Klein on T.V. about the strategic implications of the invasion), and rushed down to dinner as Bator reserved a cab to take them to the airport. A sign in the elevator warned guests that all the hotel's vital functions would be shut down and guards placed at every door in preparation for the huge anti-war demonstration Saturday. Over double martinis for most and Caesar Salad (the quickest thing on the menu). they summed up the day.

"Richardson was different from Packard because many of us knew him." Bator said, Richardson '43 is former Lieutenant Governor of Massachusetts. "But he was different from Kissinger because no one knew him really well, and we didn't regard him as a stand-in for the President."

Schelling said, "I used my lugubrious pitch-words like 'horror' and monster.' I think he felt we were overreacting, therefore he felt he could go back and try to convince us that the foreign policy was not wrong, but maybe merely mistaken. It was late in the day: perhaps we did get carried away. But he was his usual urbane, deft, intellingent self-a fine human being. He can disguise his pain."

Capron: "Packard had talked about the 'problems of liberals'-as if he were going to end the war to do you a favor."

"I found our meeting with Kissinger deeply moving. It went better than I could have hoped for. It must have impressed him deeply-it did me. Did it make any difference? I don't know," Schelling said.

Bator continued, "In the executive branch we've shot the bolt today. From now on we just have to work on Congress. If these guys get us all out of Vietnam in 90 days, we'll have the biggest crow dinner-and we'll all vote for Richard Nixon in 1972," Nervous laughter all around.

Bater flew out the door with a cheery "Goodbye Gentlemen." Others followed, including Schelling, who instructed Neustadt to take care of the bill, saying they would straighten out the finances Monday. Yarmolinsky left for the church.

Neustadt and Lipset relaxed briefly over strawberries and cream.

"You know," Neustadt said, "one of the most remarkable developments of going public like this-this is the first time in years that I've come to Washington and stayed at the Hay-Adams and had to pay the bill out of my own pocket.

"Many of us will now have to decide whether we will resign from all our consulting positions with the government. It's sort of silly. I have some on which I haven't been consulted for two years. But it's hard after a thing like today to keep operating in the executive branch. Doris Kearns [assistant professor of Government, who taught Neustadt's course on the Presidency this year], who's been down here with Everett Mendelsohn's group, resigned today from the White House Fellows Commission, despite the fact that final selections are this weekend and she had considered her appointment a great honor. People whose advice was being asked on a number of issues have now cut themselves off by announcing that they're going to the Hill to lobby. But there's so much disaffection within government that us academics resigning will be no big deal. That's why we put so much emphasis today on those of us who were ex-officials of government. We were trying to distinguish ourselves-today at least-from those who are 'merely' professors."

Lipset said, "Packard today dismissed us as 'professors' and 'liberals'-same thing." He shrugged.

THEY asked me to call the CRIMSON to find out what was happening in Cambridge. I returned to report that a group of 500 had left the stadium meeting and had trashed the CFIA and was now heading for the Square.

Lipset, a CFIA asociate, sighed. "I don't leave anything important there anymore. I just hope Schelling remembered to take his stuff out before he came down here yesterday."

They paid their bill, and caught a cab to the Cleveland Park Congregational Church, to continue the fight against the war in the best way they know how.