Somewhere deep within the guts of a squat, ugly, five-sided building in Washington, DC, a unique public relations war has been raging for the past five years. Although not generally known, the project is referred to by insiders as Operation Foot in Mouth.
Yellow lights were flashing and a siren was blaring in Foot in Mouth Central Headquarters. Chief Michael Deaver (known to the public as the Deputy Chief of Staff of the White House) and three underlings were watching the day's newscasts on one of the many video screens in the darkened room in grim silence. Eventually, Deaver turned the tape off with a flick of his hand.
"Alright," Deaver bellowed angrily, "who is responsible for this situation?" The three underlings looked warily at each other, but nobody said anything.
The crisis: United States President Ronald Reagan was set to visit a cemetery at Bitburg during a good-will visit to Germany. In the cemetery, the last resting place of close to 2,000 German soldiers, over a dozen SS Officers were buried. In justifying the trip, Reagan said that Germany had a "guilt feeling imposed on them, and I think it's unnecessary." Jews and World War II veterans bitterly opposed the move, claiming that it was an insult to those who had died during the war.
"Solution?" Deaver asked, briskly. "Smith?"
"Cancel the visit?"
"Impossible," Deaver shot the idea down. "The President has already committed himself to going to Germany. It's just his way of saying: 'Thanks for taking out nuclear missiles.'"
"What I meant," Smith continued, "was that the President might consider forgetting the trip to the cemetery."
"The President forgets a lot," Deaver agreed. "Unfortunately, Reagan is convinced that this sort of gesture is important to the continued success of American-German relations. In short, he refuses to cancel the trip to the cemetery. Jones?"
"Umm, I pass, Mike," the man said, hopefully.
"This isn't a game show!" Deaver angrily shouted. "Dimpflemeir, what's your assessment of the situation?"
"Well," that man hesitantly started, "if Ronald Reagan were to visit a concentration camp, it might mitigate the situation somewhat in our favour..."
Deaver thought for a moment. "Not bad," he finally said. "But, Reagan has already said that he didn't want to go to a concentration camp, for much the same reasons that he's visiting Bitburg."
"Yes," Dimpflemeir said, "but, that was weeks ago. Even if the public remembers what he said, it simply won't have the same immediacy as what he says now."
"Good thinking," Deaver said. "Thank you, gentlemen." The three men left, and Deaver picked up the direct line to White House spokesman Larry Speakes. "Larry, he said, "this is what we've been able to come up with..." and outlined the plan.
No sooner had he gotten off the phone, however, than a second crisis presented itself. According to the President: "I just had a verbal message delivered to me from the Pope urging us to continue our efforts in Central America." According to the Vatican, no such message had been delivered.
The three advisers were hurriedly summoned back into Operations HQ. Deaver quickly outlined the problem, noting that it wasn't really all that important, and asked Jones for an opinion.
"Well," he hesitated, "we could always bomb the Vatican..."
"Absolutely not!" Deaver screamed. "The Vatican is the centre of one of the most widely followed religions of our time! Besides," he added in a calmer tone, "it is the avowed policy of the United States not to initiate the use of tactical nuclear weapons...on friends. Dimpf?"
"It seems to me, sir," Dimpflemeir responded, "that we can ride this one out. All we have to do is allow the Vatican to respond negatively to what was said, and the whole thing will be forgotten in a matter of days..."
"I like it," Deaver said.
"Of course, it would probably help if we stopped arming the rebel guerrillas..." Dimpflemeir needlessly added.
"That will be all, gentlemen," Deaver waved them out of the room. His response to the crisis was immediately communicated to the White House.
Deaver found himself with a quiet moment, and took out a cigarette. He thought of the President, whose statements were becoming more and more ludicrous all the time, and smiled to himself. Operation Foot in Mouth had been set up to save the President from himself, and that was exactly what they were doing. It was a tough hob, but...
Deaver turned on a TV set. Ronald Reagan, speaking to an audience of 100 editors and broadcasters, was saying: "I think that there's nothing wrong with visiting that cemetery where those young men are victims of Nazism also, even though they were fighting in the German uniform, drafted into service to carry out the hateful wishes of the Nazis. They were victims just as surely as the victims of the concentration camps."
Deaver hit the red alert button. Within seconds, the entire public relations staff was scrambled, ready to face the emergency. Smith, Jones and Dimpflemeir had hurried to Deaver's office.
"Men," he told them, "I hope you have nothing planned for the next few days, because this could be the big one..."
