Yet the fortune to which the Secretary of War alluded was not accidental. Lieutenant General Leslie Richard Groves was a remarkable man, possessed of unique talents and strong character—assets upon which he drew unsparingly to advance his nation’s interest. His fortune stemmed from influences to which he was subjected in the formative years of his life and from his ability to select the best of them and make them parts of himself.

 

Leslie Richard Groves was born on 17 August 1896 in the manse of the First Presbyterian Church in Albany, New York, where his father was pastor. His was the eighth generation of the Groves family to live in this country. Soon afterward, his father was commissioned an Army Chaplain and the family moved to Vancouver Barracks. They remained there while his father served first in Cuba, then in the Philippines, and finally in China. For three years they subsisted on $80 a month before tithing—and his mother saw to it that they tithed regularly.

 

The family was reunited in 1901 at Fort Snelling. After a brief tour at Fort Wayne, they moved to Fort Hancock. There his father, whose health had been undermined by his service overseas, developed tuberculosis and was hospitalized at Fort Bayard, New Mexico. The family returned to Vancouver Barracks, then, when it became apparent that his father’s treatment would be prolonged, they moved to Pasadena where Dick and his brothers worked long hours in nearby orchards to augment their mother’s meager income.

 

Eventually Chaplain Groves returned to limited duty and Dick joined him briefly at Fort Apache in 1908, and again in 1911. In 1912 his father was restored to a full duty status with the 14th Infantry and the family reassembled at Fort William Henry Harrison. The next year they followed the regiment to Fort Lawton.

 

That summer Dick taught himself enough of three subjects he had never previously studied to pass examinations in them and gain admittance to the University of Washington in the Fall of 1913—a year ahead of his high school classmates. The following year he left home for Boston to enter MIT. There he lived in extreme poverty, all the while carrying a heavy course overload in hopes of graduating at the end of his second year. In January 1916, when it became evident that he would not be awarded a diploma that spring, he left for Shadman’s School where, after a few weeks of cramming, he won a Presidential appointment to the Military Academy. His parents had preferred that he not follow a soldier’s career; however, as he said afterwards, “I liked the Army and its standards, and wanted the best preparation possible for carrying out the responsibilities of an officer.” He entered the Academy on 15 June 1916.

 

At West Point, Groves served mainly in Flanker companies, first F Company and later H Company. On the very first day that his class became subject to punishment tours, he and his tentmates were on the area. Two hours there were enough to cure him and he never walked again. During his Plebe year he played on the Cullum Hall football squad and wrestled, finishing second in the light heavyweight class. As a Yearling, he was second-string center on the Football "A" squad. Academically he excelled, graduating fourth in his class, and was one of only three of its members who won stars in each of their years at the Academy.

 

He was commissioned in the Corps of Engineers on 1 November 1918. A month later he became a student in the Engineer School at Camp A.A. Humphreys, from which he graduated in June 1920 after touring the European battlefields. There followed eight months at Fort Benning, commanding Company D of the 7th Engineers, and a year at the Presidio of San Francisco, with the 9th Engineer Training Company. While stationed there, he married Grace Wilson, daughter of Colonel R.H. Wilson (USMA 1877) who had commanded the 14th Infantry at Forts Harrison and Lawton. From that time onward, her charm and patient understanding were to be for him constant sources of inspiration and unwavering support.

 

In 1922 he moved to Schofield Barracks where he commanded Company F of the 3d Engineers for three years. Then, after a two year tour as Assistant District Engineer in Galveston, he joined the 1st Engineers at Fort Dupont to serve again as a company commander. In 1929 he took A Company to Nicaragua where they were employed on the U.S. Army Inter-Oceanic Canal Survey. When the great earthquake of May 1931 devastated Managua, his company was immediately sent to the scene. Groves was decorated for his role in providing relief to the stricken city.

 

That summer he was assigned to Washington where, during the next four years, he supervised research and development and military supply for the Chief of Engineers. Then he attended the Command General Staff School at Fort Leavenworth for one year, followed by two years in Kansas City as Assistant Missouri River Division Engineer. He returned to Washington in 1938 to attend the Army War College. Upon graduating he joined the G3 Section of the War Department General Staff.

 

On 1 July 1940, after nearly 22 years of commissioned service, he was promoted to Major. His training was complete; he had gained the reputation of being one of the most promising among his contemporaries in the Army. He was fully prepared, and more than willing, to accept heavy responsibilities.

 

They were not long in coming. Before a month had passed, he had been designated Special Assistant to the Quartermaster General and was deeply involved in the vast construction effort that was getting underway to support America’s mobilization for World War II. In November 1940 he was promoted to Colonel—he never served as a Lieutenant Colonel—and took charge of what evolved into the Operations Branch of the Quartermaster Corps’ Construction Division. When responsibility for all Army construction passed to the Chief of Engineers in December 1941, he became Deputy Chief of Construction. Work under his control—of which the Pentagon was one small part in which he took particular pride—exceeded $8 billion and at its peak gave employment to about one million persons.

 

He was trying to obtain an assignment with troops overseas in June 1942 when, to his surprise and great disappointment, he was given staff supervision over the Army’s efforts to develop an atomic bomb. On 17 September 1942 he took full charge of that work by assuming command of the Manhattan Engineer District. What this entailed for him in the ensuing three years can be inferred from the citation for his Distinguished Service Medal:

 

“...He coordinated, administered and controlled a project of unprecedented worldwide significance—the development of the Atomic Bomb. His was the responsibility for procuring materiel and personnel, marshaling the forces of government and industry, erecting huge plants, blending the scientific efforts of the United States and foreign countries, and maintaining completely secret the search for a key to release atomic energy. He accomplished his task with such outstanding success that in an amazingly short time the Manhattan Engineer District solved this problem of staggering complexity, defeating the Axis powers in the race to produce an instrument whose peacetime potentialities are no less marvelous than its wartime application is awesome. The achievement of General Groves is of unfathomable importance to the future of the nation and the world.”

 

He remained in charge of the Atomic Bomb Project until 1 January 1947 when it was absorbed by the civilian Atomic Energy Commission. Then he served as Chief of the Armed Forces Special Weapons Project until his retirement on 29 February 1948. At that time he became a senior officer of Remington Rand, Inc.

 

He was a Trustee of the Association of Graduates and served as its President from 1961 to 1965. As Committee Chairman, he supervised the design, construction and financing of the MacArthur Memorial at West Point. He was a director of, or consultant to, a number of corporations; he held high offices in many military and patriotic societies and associations. When his other work was done, he took over and carried to completion the financing and construction of the Army Distaff Foundation.

 

At the White House, on 27 February 1970, he, together with Drs. Bush and Conant, received the Atomic Pioneer Award from the hands of the President.

 

He died on 13 July 1970 and was buried with full military honors at Arlington National Cemetery.

 

As is the case with most people, his goals in life emerged gradually as he matured; yet, throughout his formative years he worked hard to prepare himself for whatever the future might hold. When his great opportunity finally came, he was ready. He was aggressive, both mentally and physically. Nothing deterred him from his goal of academic excellence. In school he strove always to reach the top; as a young officer, he read constantly to broaden his knowledge. Contact sports held a special appeal for him. He felt great empathy for the middle linemen in football; it was they whom he watched in preference to the more glamorous backs and ends. He was determined to succeed; he played to win; he had no use for losers; moral victories did not exist for him.

 

He was intensely proud of his American heritage, proud of serving in the Army, and especially proud of being a West Pointer. A product of the strict moral code of the 19th Century Presbyterian Church, he did not smoke or use profanity; neither did he approve of those who did. Not until his later years did he accept alcoholic beverages, and then only sparingly. He was frugal and willingly accepted austerity. His manner was straightforward and direct.

 

True to his father's upbringing, he did his best in everything he undertook; he could do no more. He felt that if others would do their best, too, there would be no irresolvable problems. This uncomplicated outlook gave him inner strength and peace of mind, as is evident in the two rhetorical questions at the end of his memoirs. ‘‘In answer to the question, ‘Was the development of the atomic bomb by the United States necessary?’ I reply unequivocally, ‘Yes.’ To the question. ’Is atomic energy a force for good or for evil?’ I can only say, ‘As mankind wills it.’ ”

 

Intelligence, enterprise and industry were traits that he possessed in full measure. He sought his own qualities in others and, when he found them, he put them to work for him, regardless of whatever niceties of seniority might be involved. Yet he had no illusions that the world was made up entirely of people like himself, for all about him he observed sloth, stupidity, compromised principles, lowered standards. He would support anyone who tried to meet his expectations, but was almost totally incapable of tolerating those who did not. Insofar as he could, he ignored those with whom he had fundamental, irreconcilable differences—such people were of no consequence to him; but if ever they got in his way, they were quickly forced to fit his mold, or pushed ruthlessly aside. (Stories abound of his harshness; many of these anecdotes tell of his using strong oaths. Still, the fact remains that he never swore; those who faced his anger only felt as though he did.) Nothing could stop him from accomplishing his mission. That was what set him apart; that was what made him so ideally suited to carry the responsibilities that were thrust upon him.

 

He was not a popular figure and he knew it. The Army as a whole felt uneasy with the Bomb and the man who had brought it into being. His unshakable self-confidence-some considered it to be conceit—made it difficult for those who would do so to improve this uncomfortable relationship. For the most part scientists, especially the younger ones, disliked him intensely, being constitutionally unable to accept the brutal means that he sometimes employed to meet his schedule. Even in industry, where deadlines on the delivery of a useful end product are a way of life, his demands were often viewed as being unreasonable and unattainable. But none of this mattered to him so long as what had to be done was done, and done on time.

 

His wartime duties demanded stamina, fortitude and personal courage. Operating in a completely uncharted area with only a miniscule staff to assist him, receiving conflicting advice from highly qualified experts, he had to make decision after decision—many of them capable of changing the course of history, most of them irrevocable. The unbroken record of success that he compiled while picking his way through the maze surrounding him moved Ernest Lawrence to remark that Groves was either the smartest or the luckiest man that he had ever known.

 

But whatever the basis for his judgment may have been, when a decision was needed, he neither hesitated nor equivocated, even though it involved overriding recommendations of others far more knowledgeable in their fields than he; and when he reached a decision, he enforced it.

 

On the rise and in his prime he seemed often to be cold and remote. But there are those who can recall his rollicking sense of fun which was a part of him long before the mellowing effects of old age became apparent. And always deep within him lay much compassion and a genuine interest in helping those who needed help. Whenever one of them turned to him, as many did, he acted—quickly and effectively—and he never mentioned it to anyone who was not directly concerned.

 

Yet all of these were but manifestations of the ultimate source of his strength. In the early years of his service with the Corps of Engineers great emphasis was given to an officer’s integrity; in his case that stress was well placed. If his principles and his character were reduced to a single word, it would have to be INTEGRITY. Edward Teller has described a conversation with Sir James Chadwick during which be commented upon the scientific community’s almost universal dislike of Groves. Teller fully expected that Sir James would share that sentiment, both as a scientist and as an Englishman, for it was well known that Groves had always treated British motives as suspect. Much to Teller’s surprise, Sir James vigorously defended Groves, concluding: “He was a man of his word. He could be trusted. When he said he would do something, it would be done.”

 

That trait—integrity—was what enabled him to endure the stress, the anxiety, the frustrations of those long war years. He, as much as any leader in the history of warfare, must have known the loneliness of command over a prolonged period of time. For he, and he alone, was primarily responsible for the success or failure of the great enterprise on which his country had embarked. As Secretary Stimson observed, “Groves’ work stands head and shoulders above even the invaluable work of some of the others because he was the responsible agent of the Government and shouldered more of the ultimate responsibility than did any of the others.”

 

In recognition of the manner in which he carried that responsibility, the 80th Congress enacted a Bill declaring that, “The American people and The Congress of the United States deeply appreciate the outstanding and unique service to the Nation and to humanity thus rendered by the said Leslie Richard Groves.”