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mine, if not identical to mine. But I was furious.
I was furious about Halberstam's lack of any empathy, any
sensitivity to the possibility that hindsight, when you didn't have
the immediate decision-making responsibility, was a hell of a lot
safer, than when you were actually in the eye of the storm.
Let me tell you, again, I was particularly furious at his
treatment of Mac Bundy, because I liked Bundy, you know, and whatever
role he had in Vietnam, I obviously had to put behind me. And I
hated the way Halberstam was using a cleaver, bludgeon or what not,
without a bit of empathy or identification with the humanity and
the frailties of another human being. It was too damned self-righteous,
pontificating, etc. -- (similar to what I'm doing now...)
Well, I was asleep -- it was about 2 AM, 2 or 3 AM when I
finished that part of the book, and I closed it, and I got up and
wrote a note to Mac, in which in effect I was apologizing for
Halberstam. Pages and pages and pages. It's what I do sometimes,
you know, when I get upset about something, I write notes or articles
to myself, which I know will never be published or never be shown.
And I felt better. It took me about an hour or so to rect to
I'll tell you something else, about when I met Halberstam.
I put it away. And I knew I was not going to send it to Mac.
You know, for pretty obvious reasons. For one thing, it was much
too damned personal, and given the nature of the relationship
between the Ford Foundation and an agency that I was directing, it
could have been misunderstood. And I kept it about a year, and
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