During the next months Moral Re-Armament teams in many parts of the world got to work translating, printing and distributing millions of copies of the booklet, and when Buchman opened the summer conference at Caux in June 1960 he stated that 73 million copies had gone into the homes of the United States, Canada and Western Europe, as well as of India, Latin America, Australia and Japan.3 It was translated into twenty- four languages, and became the most widely distributed publication Moral Re-Armament has ever produced.

It was also the most controversial. In Finland, for example, President Kekkonen sent for Lennart Segerstraale, the reputed painter, who was the chairman of Moral Re-Armament's legal body there, and severely reprimanded him for arranging its distribution to millions of Finnish homes. On the other hand, the grand old man of Finnish Socialism, Väinö Tanner, said it was just what was needed to clarify people's minds.

In retrospect, many people within Moral Re-Armament have doubted the wisdom of the move, since it created an anti-Communist image which was a gross over-simplification of Moral Re-Armament philosophy. Buchman was, however, heart and soul behind the venture. He simply felt that a warning and a challenge were urgently needed and, as usual, cared little about public images or the reputation of his work. Characteristically, he did what seemed to him to be right, sometimes with the minimum of consultation, and let the sparks fall where they would.

While his friends were at work with Ideology and Co-Existence, Buchman left Mackinac and returned to the beauty of Tucson. On the way he made two visits - the first to the island's priest, Father Ling, who lay ill in St Ignace hospital just across the water from Mackinac. He had spent forty-years on the island and had come to see Buchman about once a fortnight whenever he was there. Now the old priest was slowly dying. He came from his bed to talk to Buchman, who had, the previous year, got one of his own friends to care for the Father's closest companion, his dog Max. The two men said goodbye, each knowing it was for the last time.

The second visit was to Anoka, Minnesota, to the home of his uncle who had died in the Civil War. He and his companions heard once more how the uncle had gone to war leaving his wife and a young baby with only a fifty-cent piece, a coin which was again respectfully passed round.

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