Many of these outraged Rumsfeld critics also bitterly complained of his decision a few years ago to cancel production and deployment of the Crusader artillery piece -- a magnificent 60-ton, fully-automated ammunition handling and firing 155-mm self-propelled howitzer capable of firing one round 40 km every six seconds. It would have been just perfect for blowing up Soviet tanks as they dashed through the Fulda Gap into West Germany, or raining death on a seiged Soviet camp. They would also have been just perfect for satisfying special interests back home and keeping artillery generals happy.

  Unfortunately, with the Soviet threat having evaporated, logic suggested to Don Rumsfeld that an insufficiently mobil and imprecise 60-ton cannon would probably not be terribly useful in the asymmetrical warfare we were likely to face. So he just cancelled it, which, of course, didn't stop elements in the Pentagon from continuing to lobby their friendly senators to overrule Rumsfeld. Happily, they lost.

 Transforming our military into a logical structure that can defeat the enemies we will actually face in the 21st century has infuriated the legions of politicians, generals, defense contractors, lobbyists and journalists who have encrusted themselves around the magnificent weapons and methods of bygone days.

 Rumsfeld didn't even schmooze the senators. He let his logic do the talking. After many similar incidents, he is now accused of having bad relations and few friends on Capital Hill. If the Pentagon had any more friends there, our fleets would still be powered by canvas and wind -- in deference to the illogic of special interests and old sentiments.

 Mindlessly echoing Rumsfeld's Pentagon and Capital Hill opponents are the empty suits and skirts (credit to Michael Savage for the phrase) who report the news. When two or three of these people have shared their illogic with each other, it constitutes a reportable condition called "a buzz" that Rumsfeld is in trouble for not doing his job properly.

 He is, in fact, doing his job just fine. But we live in age of fraudulent sentiment and paralyzing political correctness. In such a time, Don Rumsfeld's greatest mistake is not sweetening his logic with sentimental treacle.

 He could learn from Lewis Carroll's Walrus, who, before gobbling up the little oysters (which is the logical consequence of a Walrus meeting a plate of oysters), proclaimed: "'I weep for you,' the Walrus said.  'I deeply sympathize.' With sobs and tears he sorted out Those of the largest size, Holding his pocket-handkerchief Before his streaming eyes."

 Perhaps Mr. Rumsfeld would have more friends in Washington if he had weeped before cancelling the Crusader cannon or explaining the realities of war. But without his cold logic, we would expose ourselves to the fate of the ever-sentimental little oysters.