I even told Louis Marshall and Dr. Cyrus Adler that I would second their efforts against my appointment, and I kept my word. When I found that my messages to the President failed to move him, I insisted on a personal interview with him, hoping then to dissuade him, and, on June 26th, two days before the signing of the Treaty and the President’s return to America, this was secured. When I stated to him that I wanted to be relieved from the Commission, and suggested that no Jew should be put on same, he replied, with great emphasis, that he had definitely concluded to put a Jew on the Commission, so as to secure for the Jews in Poland a sympathetic hearing, and that he had selected me to be entrusted with this task and hoped that I would not refuse to serve. “Your putting it that way,” I answered, “makes it a command, and as a good citizen, I will not disobey it.” Just returned from Lithuania and anxious to see his suggestions in regard to that country pushed to realization, Colonel Greene begged to be relieved from serving on the Polish Mission, and the President left it to General Pershing and myself to secure some other army officer. I went to the General’s residence on the momentous morning of the signing of the Peace Treaty. “Let’s step into the garden,” he said, and, turning to General Harbord, added: “You come along.” It was a bright spring morning. The acres of garden, hidden from the streets of the Boulevard St. Germain district, and rich from centuries of care, stretched green and quiet before us. We sat on an old stone seat, and Pershing drew out a memorandum from his pocket. “Here,” he told me, “are the names of the general officers that I have picked out for some recognition. Now, Morgenthau, tell me what sort of officer it is that you want.” In a most comprehensive way he ran through the names and explained the special attainments and attributes of each man mentioned. Here was the honour list of the A. E. F., and the man who was explaining it to me was he whose name was entitled to stand in capitals at its top. The experience was like going through a picture gallery with an expert pointing out the best in every portrait, and Harbord throwing in an illuminating remark every now and then, was a connoisseur at the expert’s elbow. I realized that the portraits were all real masterpieces--no antiques--all moderns. They were the select of the selected, but the two that apparently best suited our present purpose were Mason M. Patrick and Edgar Jadwin. “Our commission,” I repeated, “is expected to conduct a real search for the truth, without prejudice; to be well balanced, the third member should be a man who will work judicially, but be unencumbered with a legal education and the quibbles that usually accompany it.” And, I added: “Both Johnson and I are lawyers.” Pershing replied: “If you mean a man who will balance facts mathematically and then arrive at a conclusion, as an engineer does, then Jadwin is the man for you.”