Page 218 of Winter of the World (The Century 2)

iii

Greg Peshkov sailed with Sumner Welles and President Roosevelt on a heavy cruiser, the Augusta, to Placentia Bay, off the coast of Newfoundland. Also in the convoy were the battleship Arkansas, the cruiser Tuscaloosa, and seventeen destroyers.

They anchored in two long lines, with a broad sea passage down the middle. At nine o'clock in the morning of Saturday, August 9, in bright sunshine, the crews of all twenty vessels mustered at the rails in their dress whites as the British battleship Prince of Wales arrived, escorted by three destroyers, and steamed majestically down the middle, bearing Prime Minister Churchill.

It was the most impressive show of power Greg had ever seen, and he was delighted to be part of it.

He was also worried. He hoped the Germans did not know about this rendezvous. If they found out, one U-boat could kill the two leaders of what remained of Western civilization--and Greg Peshkov.

Before leaving Washington Greg had met with the detective, Tom Cranmer, again. Cranmer had produced an address, a house in a low-rent neighborhood on the far side of Union Station. "She's a waitress at the University Women's Club near the Ritz-Carlton, which is why you saw her in that neighborhood twice," he had said as he pocketed the balance of his fee. "I guess acting didn't work out for her--but she still goes by Jacky Jakes."

Greg had w

ritten her a letter.

Dear Jacky,

I just want to know why you ran out on me six years ago. I thought we were so happy, but I must have been wrong. It bugs me, that's all.

You act scared when you see me, but there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm not angry, just curious. I would never do anything to hurt you. You were the first girl I ever loved.

Can we meet, just for a cup of coffee or something, and talk?

Very sincerely,

Greg Peshkov

He had added his phone number and mailed the note the day he left for Newfoundland.

The president was keen that the conference should result in a joint statement. Greg's boss, Sumner Welles, wrote a draft, but Roosevelt refused to use it, saying it was better to let Churchill produce the first draft.

Greg immediately saw that Roosevelt was a smart negotiator. Whoever produced the first draft would need, in all fairness, to put in some of what the other side wanted alongside his own demands. His statement of the other side's wishes then became an irreducible minimum, while all of his own demands were still up for negotiation. So the drafter always started at a disadvantage. Greg vowed to remember never to write the first draft.

On Saturday the president and the prime minister enjoyed a convivial lunch on board the Augusta. On Sunday they attended a church service on the deck of the Prince of Wales, with the Stars and Stripes and the Union Jack draping the altar red, white, and blue. On Monday morning, by which time they were firm friends, they got down to brass tacks.

Churchill produced a five-point plan that delighted Sumner Welles and Gus Dewar by calling for an effective international organization to assure the security of all states--in other words, a strengthened League of Nations. But they were disappointed to find that that was too much for Roosevelt. He was in favor, but he feared the isolationists, people who still believed America did not need to get involved with the troubles of the rest of the world. He was extraordinarily sensitive to public opinion, and made ceaseless efforts not to provoke opposition.

Welles and Dewar did not give up, nor did the British. They got together to seek a compromise acceptable to both leaders. Greg took notes for Welles. The group came up with a clause that called for disarmament "pending the establishment of a wider and more permanent system of general security."

They put it to the two great men, who accepted it.

Welles and Dewar were jubilant.

Greg could not see why. "It seems so little," he said. "All that effort--the leaders of two great countries brought together across thousands of miles, dozens of staffers, twenty-four ships, three days of talks--and all for a few words that don't quite say what we want."

"We move by inches, not miles," said Gus Dewar with a smile. "That's politics."

iv

Woody and Joanne had been dating for five weeks.

Woody wanted to go out with her every night, but he held back. Nevertheless, he had seen her on four of the last seven days. Sunday they had gone to the beach; Wednesday they had dinner; Friday they saw a movie; and today, Saturday, they were spending the whole day together.

He never tired of talking to her. She was funny and intelligent and sharp-tongued. He loved the way she was so definite about everything. They jawed for hours about the things they liked and hated.

The news from Europe was bad. The Germans were still thrashing the Red Army. East of Smolensk they had wiped out the Russian Sixteenth and Twentieth Armies, taking three hundred thousand prisoners, leaving few Soviet forces between the Germans and Moscow. But bad news from afar could not dampen Woody's elation.

Joanne probably was not as crazy about him as he was about her. But she was fond of him, he could tell. They always kissed good night, and she seemed to enjoy it, though she did not show the kind of passion he knew she was capable of. Perhaps it was because they always had to kiss in public places, such as the cinema, or a doorway on the street near her building. When they were in her apartment there was always at least one of her two roommates in the living room, and she had not yet invited him to her bedroom.

---