Administration under Gorton was often unorthodox, sometimes scornful of convention and prevailing lines of authority, and affected by the Prime Minister’s preferences for particular individuals. These habits extended to his relations with some of his Cabinet colleagues, as I was to observe more than once at close quarters. Early on 21 November 1969, as I was dressing for the day, the Residence Head Bearer/Major Domo (Shafiq Mohammed Ali) ascended the stairs in an excited state crying: ‘Sahib! Sahib! There is a man on telephone from Australia wanting to speak to Sahib and I am telling him it is not right time and please go away, but he is angry man. I am not knowing his name because telephone is not good—something like “Gorton”.’ After expressing hasty apologies to the Prime Minister, I heard him say that he and the Defence Minister, Malcolm Fraser, wanted me to succeed Sir Henry Bland who had suddenly decided to retire because of his wife’s indifferent health. Having said I would do whatever he thought best, I made a point of saying that I had no experience as a member of any of the Services. He said this did not matter. I suggested that Fraser discuss the timing with my newly appointed Minister, William McMahon.

Four days later McMahon rang me to say that he would like me to return as Secretary of the Department of External Affairs (re-named Foreign Affairs in 1970), as he thought it best if Plimsoll moved on. I told him I thought that much needed attention in the Department as a result of Plimsoll’s administrative shortcomings, but this was not for me as I was now committed elsewhere. McMahon said he had been kept in the dark by Gorton and Fraser over the Defence appointment offer and would consult his colleagues. Asked which Department I preferred, I said External Affairs. (On reflection later I decided that my return would not have been good for the Department.) In another telephone call to New Delhi, McMahon said that the Prime Minister had only then confirmed what had been going on in the dark. In a cable, through commercial channels, he asked me to report on the Department’s deficiencies that I had referred to, and to give him an assessment of the officers whom I thought ought to be considered to replace Plimsoll. I wrote doing so, in my own hand without keeping any copy, recommending Waller. Waller was in fact appointed. Lest my view of Plimsoll should be misinterpreted, I should add that in overseas missions—and he headed all of our major ones as no other career officer had done—Plimsoll was unique in his ability, perhaps our best. People at the top, including difficult people like Syngman Rhee in Korea, opened their doors to him. Administration of a large Department and nurturing its staff were, however, not his forte.

The announcement was made and I made my farewells in India. On the way back to Australia I made some visits to gather information that would be more difficult to make in my new capacity without media speculation—Tokyo, the American supply base on Okinawa, and Jakarta.

An Indian Chief of the Naval Staff said this to me as I departed for Canberra in January 1970. Would the same be said about me nine years hence?