Defense
On Capitol Hill Melvin Laird has long borne the aura of power, carefully contained but ready for instant application. His close-cropped skull and impassive features give him the forbidding countenance of a Japanese war lord. His steely mind and stinging tongue deepen the impression of a political samurai. Though he is in fact one of the nation's wiliest politicians, in private life he is a puckish, convivial figure.
Laird still lives in his Marshfield, Wis., birthplace, and the rockbed Republican Seventh District there gave him 64% of the vote in November. In his first term in 1953, he managed the unheard of freshman feat of getting on the powerful Appropriations Committee. Once there, he was named to the subcommittee that doles money out to the military, which led to his Pentagon expertise and, inevitably, to his seat on the Nixon Cabinet.
Carleton College-educated, Laird, 46, is one of the G.O.P.'s most considerable intellects. Though generally regarded as a conservative, his political views are hard to categorize. As one observer notes: "He's not antiDemocratic, or anti-this or that wing of the Republican Party. He's bigger than that, and he's friendlier than that." From his first day on the Hill, he has concentrated instead on a wide range of national issues.
After the 1964 Goldwater debacle, Laird recognized the need for change within the Republican Party. He decided —and the party agreed—that the Federal Government should be active in such fields as education and welfare, but only as backstop to states and local communities. A leading backer of the Viet Nam war, he made a calculated switch last year and argued that the Republicans must appear as the party of peace, that Viet Nam was something to hang around Lyndon Johnson's neck. Laird does not plan to visit Viet Nam until his appointment is confirmed by the Senate. As he puts it: "Such visits should be made when they count."
Justice
After his candidate had nailed down the nomination, Nixon Confidant John Mitchell was asked if he had enjoyed campaigning. "No, I have not," he snapped. But now Mitchell, 55, a bril liant bond lawyer who earns $200,000 a year and who became involved in Nixon's campaign when their firms merged in 1967, has taken on the difficult job of putting into practice the campaign or atory about law and order, much of which he was responsible for formulating. The Attorney General-designate gained his legal reputation by arranging municipal bond financing for cities and states across the country. It is possibly the most intricate branch of law, touching on just about everything but criminal and negligence cases.
Son of a Detroit business executive, Mitchell already had adopted his but-toned-up style as a student at Fordham University Law School. A classmate recalls that he was "very closemouthed and got top grades apparently without opening a book." During World War II, Mitchell was commander of a PT boat flotilla in the Pacific—and John Kennedy's superior officer.
Labor