Perot Puts Best Face Forward in TV Ads : Politics: The biographical infomercials cast his past in a flattering light, leaving many facts in the shadows.

In a four-part, $1.4-million television advertising campaign over the last week, Ross Perot has painted a portrait of himself as a patriot, philanthropist and can-do businessman who thinks his billions are “overrated” and is so kindhearted that, according to his daughter, he wouldn’t step on an insect.

Some details got lost, however, in the Dallas businessman’s effort to tell his story to voters without the interference of political rivals or the filtering of journalists. Some facts are omitted, some stories are simplified and several of the controversies that have swirled about him are ignored.

Perot’s biographical infomercials, which began airing Oct. 17 and had the fourth installment Saturday night, sketched his life as a middle-class boy, a Naval Academy student and founder of a computer-services company that enjoyed enormous success. They described him as the champion of American prisoners of war, an advocate of better education and more effective government, a devoted husband and doting father of five.

The commercials also left an impression of Perot as a team player who was happy in the organizations to which he belonged. During the first ad, for instance, Perot described his stint in the Navy as “great experience. Great--great people.” Life on an aircraft carrier was “heaven,” he says.

Not mentioned is that Perot clashed bitterly with the second commander of his ship, the Sigourney, and that in April, 1955, he had his father and uncle write letters to Texas senators to see if he could get an early discharge from the Navy after serving 15 months of a four-year tour.

In a letter Perot wrote at the time to his father, the picture he painted of Navy life was hardly heavenly. He said he found the Navy “a fairly Godless organization.” He added: “I do not enjoy the prospect of continuing to stand on the quarterdeck as officer of the deck in foreign ports, being subjected to drunken tales of moral emptiness, passing out penicillin pills and seeing promiscuity on the part of married men.”

Commenting on Perot’s request for an early discharge, which was denied, some of his senior officers judged him to be “emotionally maladjusted” and too immature to be a career naval officer, according to government documents.

Perot’s ads mentioned only fleetingly his controversial association with General Motors in the mid-1980s, which ended with the Texan at odds with the company’s officials and receiving a $700-million buyout deal. Perot had sold his computer services firm, Electronic Data Systems, to GM in 1984 and, as part of the deal, served on the board of directors for the automotive giant. Perot’s conflict with GM developed as he pushed for reform of its business practices, a position he has since touted in public.

But former Perot associates have said the conflict also stemmed from his efforts to secure from GM bigger profits for EDS and better pay for its executives. The former Perot associates said that as part of this effort, he once threatened to “nuke” GM: shut down its computer systems and thereby paralyze its auto production.

Asked for a comment about this incident earlier this year, Perot declined to be interviewed. Former EDS President Morton H. Meyerson, who now serves as chairman of Perot’s new computer firm, confirmed that the “nuke” scenario was broached by Perot but insisted it was never given serious consideration.

In one of his infomercials, Perot described his first job in the business world, at IBM, as “a great five-year adventure.” He does not mention that he left the company in 1962 after bitter disputes with IBM managers. The points of contention included his compensation.

The commercials provided Perot another opportunity to relate the story of the rescue mission he organized in 1979 to free two EDS employees who had been imprisoned in revolutionary Iran. He relates how he enlisted a former Marine colonel, Arthur (Bull) Simons, to train a cadre of highly decorated former combat troops for the job, in a sort of reprise of Hollywood’s “The Dirty Dozen.”

Perot tells of his secret entry into Tehran, and how the Iranians frantically searched for him when they were tipped off that he was in the city. “They were tearing up the town for me because I was a better hostage,” he says.

Omitted from the ad is the fact that while Perot’s cadre was still plotting the jailbreak in a Tehran hotel room, a young Iranian working for EDS got the job done by acting on his own. The man fomented a riot by dissidents that led a mob to storm the jail, freeing the imprisoned Americans and thousands of other prisoners.

Also left out is Perot’s later judgment that the adventure was “more lucky than smart.”

In one of his ads, in describing his employment philosophy of searching for merit wherever he can find it, Perot said: “I don’t care what race you are; I don’t care what sex you are.”

Some critics have challenged Perot’s assertions about his hiring and promotion practices at EDS. During his leadership of EDS, which ended when he sold his shares in the company to GM in 1986, the computer services firm had few women or minorities in top management positions.

Perot insists that his employees, including “the newest entry-level employees, had the same health benefits I had.” But while the record shows that Perot has often spent his own money to help sick employees, one employee with AIDS accused EDS of firing him for fear the cost of his illness would imperil the company’s health plan.

The former employee, an ex-Marine named Bobby Joe King who has since died, accused the company of wrongful discharge and won an out-of-court settlement. The officials that now run EDS have said they are not responsible for the case, since it occurred under Perot’s ownership.

Perot’s biographical ads round out a self-portrait that he sketched in the three presidential debates. But in that setting too, where reporters’ time was limited and his rivals were reluctant to attack, Perot sometimes provided only part of the story and left some questions hanging.

In the final debate, Perot portrayed himself as a man who repeatedly has been called on by the government to solve its problems. “Again and again in the middle of the night, two o’clock, three o’clock in the morning, my government has called me to take extraordinary steps for Americans in distress,” Perot said.

But officials from the Richard M. Nixon, Ronald Reagan and Bush administrations have said it was more often Perot who sought their permission to take on a special role on assignments, ranging from work on behalf of POWs and MIAs to efforts against drug dealers. Sometimes these offers were made to their delight and other times to their annoyance, these officials have said.

Perot also has provided little evidence to back up his assertion in the final debate that because of his work for national causes, he and his family have been investigated and physically threatened by drug dealers, Vietnamese-inspired terrorists and “the Republican dirty tricks crowd.”

FBI officials again last week said they knew of no evidence that Perot’s life was threatened by Vietnamese terrorists in 1970, after he led an airlift to Southeast Asia to publicize the plight of American POWs in Hanoi.

Perot aide Murphy Martin and former employee Tom Muir have said Perot told them at the time that five armed men broke through a gate and gained access to his property. But Perot apparently did not report the incident or provide any evidence that it occurred.

Republican officials, meanwhile, have denied Perot’s charge in Monday’s debate that the party’s “dirty tricks crowd” had investigated Perot’s five children. They said they were being blamed for investigations undertaken by reporters.

Asked Friday to provide evidence to back up the charge, Sharon Holman, Perot’s press secretary, replied: “Truthfully, I’d rather not waste time on it.”