Project 9: The Birth of the Air Commandos in World War II

Chapter 5

51 • • • Chapter 5 Chapter 5 While Roosevelt, Churchvill, and the Combined Chiefs met in Halifax to plan the war, Washington in late summer 1943 was a city focused on war. Nothing symbolized that focus more than the leviathan new addition to the skyline. In a city of monuments the Pentagon was both edifice to the country’s military might and a practical no-nonsense office building—the largest in the world at the time—for the War Department and military brass. As war had spread across Europe, it was obvious to everyone, including those who controlled the nation’s purse strings, that housing the War Department in seventeen separate leased buildings along the National Mall and even across the Potomac in Arlington, Virginia, was inefficient and wasteful. A few months before Pearl Harbor, Congress had approved $83 million to construct what most thought would be temporary quarters—just for the duration of the war—for the planners and decision makers in the civilian and military hierarchy overseeing the conflict. (A common belief was that when hostilities ceased, the building would house a variety of government agencies and departments, since the War Department and the various armed services would shrink to a fraction of their wartime size.) But for now it was home to more than 30,000 workers, most in uniform but also many civilians, mainly young women. The five-sided reinforced concrete building was a miracle of design, determination, and audacity. The first sketch of the building was done 52 • • • Project 9 in the summer of 1941 by the chief architects of the War Department, George E. Bergstrom and David J. Witmer. The style was described as “stripped classical,” a kind of spartan version of the Greco-Roman brand of monumental architecture called for in the 1902 McMillan Commission report, which blessed the style for lending dignity to democratic institutions. Construction began 11 September, 1941; 4,000 workers worked three shifts to complete it in sixteen months; the gleaming building was dedicated and fully operational on 15 January 1943. Five stories high, with an additional two stories underground, it covered thirty-four acres, including a five-acre central courtyard, contained 6.5-million square feet of space, and had parking for 8,000 cars. Each of its five sides was 921.6 feet long, and it rested on 41,492 concrete piles; more than six million cubic yards of earth had been hauled in to fill in the swampy lowland on which it was built. Rising southeast of Arlington National Cemetery and in sight of the Lincoln Memorial and National Mall, the Pentagon sat just across Memorial Bridge on the Virginia side of the Potomac. The first site chosen was an area known as Arlington Farms, part of the large estate belonging to Robert E. Lee, but so many objected that it would block views of the national cemetery that President Roosevelt had ordered it moved three-quarters of a mile south to the present location, in an area commonly called Hell Bottoms.1 Lt. Col. Philip Cochran climbed out of the taxi and somewhat breezily returned the salute of the enlisted marine guard at the main entrance to the Pentagon. Inside he was directed to the office he requested— 3E1009.Third floor,East wedge,tenth corridor,room 09.The new home of the War Department was a model of efficiency; it was constructed like five nesting boxes, concentric rings of concrete and limestone, with space between each ring so even offices deep within the monolith had access to light and air, although the building was also air-conditioned. Highest-ranking officers were ensconced in the outermost section, with offices facing the National Mall reserved for those with three or four stars on their shoulders, as well as the secretary of war and his staff. The sanctum sanctorum of this tabernacle to war had been inverted: the inner shrine to leadership was actually the outer ring, not the inner. Cockran walked up several wide ramps to the third floor. To save material for the war effort, no stairs or elevators had been installed. He strode a short distance—despite seventeen miles of hallways, any place in the building could be reached in seven minutes or less—down corridor 10 to a suite of rooms numbered 9 and knocked on a door marked in gold lettering: Commander, Army Air Forces. 53 • • • Chapter 5 A secretary in an anteroom looked up pertly, first noting Cochran’s rank, as she was trained...