But aides agree that the candidate is his own closest advisor. McGovern reportedly makes all the major decisions, writes much of his own material, and often speaks extemporaneously. "His statements aren't filtered through a lot of people," Cunningham says, adding, "What you see is what you get-George McGovern undiluted."

By contrast, such personal involvement in all levels of the campaign is exactly what aides say Hart is trying to avoid. Campaign manager Oliver Henkel explains that Hart, himself McGovern's 1972 campaign manager, "knows from personal experience how distinct the roles of candidate and campaign manager must remain. You can't wear two hats at once," he adds. Hart tries to leave strategy and tactical decisions almost entirely up to his senior staff-"for better or worse, he takes all my advice," says Henkel.

Such reliance is somewhat surprising because Henkel admits he brings no political background to the job. A classmate of Hart's from Yale Law School, Henkel quietly practiced law in Cleveland for 19 years until Hart called him last year and asked him to manage his campaign. "I told him he probably had the wrong man," says Henkel, "but he wanted fresh blood in the process-he didn't want the campaign to be run like the others. "Henkel adds that Hart, a naturally shy man, was also "anxious to have someone who wouldn't try to change his public persona."

The other distinctive feature of the Hart campaign is its youth-most of the top positions are filled by people in their late 20s. Some key staffers are even younger-the man who heads Hart's delegate selection effort is a junior at Yale, and the organization's computer expert is a 14-year-old American University sophomore.

Like Hart, Cranston's candidacy depends on coming in third place today, according to campaign manager Sergio Bendixen. The senior staffers in his organization, including Bendixen himself, are almost all new to the candidate-a few have been involved in previous Presidential efforts, but most are "young people who've never been in any Presidential campaign before," Bendixen says. Like Hart, Cranston lets his campaign manager make all the decisions, except for the "general game plan;" Bendixen calls that an "ideal arrangement so far."

The staff of the Jackson campaign, by contrast, are entirely subordinate to the candidate himself. According to assistant press secretary Eric Easter, Jackson "is the sole decision maker" in that organization-he determines issue stands, arranges his schedules, preps himself for interviews. His senior staffers are mostly minorities who have worked with him for a long time; the two to watch are campaign manager Arnold Pinkney, a veteran of Andrew Young's Atlanta mayoral race and a one-time candidate for mayor of Cleveland; and Preston Love, a computer specialist who has advised both Young and Chicago Mayor Harold Washington.

The two trailing candidates, Askew and Hollings, would both view a fourth place finish as a "moral victory," aides say, but they're running their campaign organizations very differently to achieve that goal. The top people in Askew's campaign are old acquaintances from his days in Miami, says campaign manager Jim Krog; the candidate will have to do well in New Hampshire to overcome his image as a regional candidate. As for strategy decisions, Krog says, "I call the shots."

That final word is a privilege Hollings reserves for himself, says Brooks Fudenberg, the candidate's press assistant. And in contrast to McGovern's staff of old faithfuls, Hollings's top staff have only recently met him, though many have had substantial political experience. The campaign chairman is the current president of Duke University, Terry Sanford, who once served as governor of North Carolina and launched an abortive Presidential bid of his own in 1972. The campaign director, Curt Moffatt, was the senior advance man for Arizona Rep. Morris Udall and later in 1976 for Carter as well, and is active in the Democratic National Committee's fundraising and rules committees.

So today's New Hampshire results, like those throughout the election, depend largely on the "invisible" men and women-the ones who, as many note, "just never stop moving."