12
THE COLLAPSE OF I CORPS
After retreating from Quang Tri, on 20 March Marine Colonel Nguyen Thanh Tri redeployed his forces along the My Chanh River line. He assigned the 14th Ranger Group and the remnants of the Quang Tri RF, along with the still full-strength 7th Marine Battalion, to guard the area from the bridge on Route 1 over the My Chanh River east to the sea. An eleven-mile front was being covered by fewer than two thousand men. Elements of the 1st Armor Brigade protected Route 1 from a PAVN armor thrust. The 147th Marine Brigade was arrayed along the western side of the bridge along the My Chanh River to the mountains, and then south to Hue. The 1st Division was deployed from west of Hue south along the mountains down to the Truoi River, where the 15th Rangers took over from the river to Phu Loc. The 8th Marine Battalion held Phu Loc, and a Thua Thien RF Group guarded the Hai Van area. This left Lieutenant General Thi with no reserves to call upon if his lines were penetrated. Only the VNAF and, occasionally, ships offshore provided any additional fire support.
RVNAF forces in Thua Thien would get no respite, as that same day, Deputy Chief of Staff Le Trong Tan cabled the B-4 Front, telling them that while “the capture of the entire province of Quang Tri is very commendable, the troops must not stop at My Chanh but must instead continue to attack.”1 Tan wanted the B-4 Front to attack simultaneously with the 2nd Corps assault on 21 March, destroy all RVNAF forces north of Hue, and capture the city.
The B-4 Front planned its main assault against the RF positions near the coast. Opposite the ARVN troops, the B-4 Front had three Quang Tri local-force battalions positioned on the eastern side of Route 1, and the reinforced 4th Regiment on the western side. It would send two Quang Tri battalions, supported by seven tanks, to puncture the RF lines and capture the district capital of Huong Dien. It would then continue south along the coastline and strike the Thuan An/Tan My ports, the only remaining escape route for the RVNAF units trapped in the Hue pocket. The Thuan An/Tan My harbor area and warehouse facilities are located next to the coast on the Perfume River about five miles east of Hue. Only small ships could sail into Hue. Although Tan My had several LST ramps, silting prevented the LSTs from entering the harbor, which is why Major General Murray had wanted to dredge it. The Tan My port is connected to the Thuan An port by a floating bridge across the Tam Giang Lagoon.
The third Quang Tri battalion would attack near the bridge on Route 1, while the 4th Regiment would assault the 147th Marines. The two other B-4 Front regiments, although badly battered from the earlier fighting, were southwest of Hue and prepared to strike from that direction. The independent 46th Regiment, recently arrived from North Vietnam, was in reserve.
Concurrently with these attacks, the B-4 Front ordered two Thua Thien local-force battalions “to cut off and control the Tu Hien Inlet, no matter what the cost. Local forces will carry out all other missions. This order supersedes all previous orders.”2 On the night of 22 March, the two battalions slipped by ARVN outposts and marched to a position on the coast just south of the inlet. The next night, they crossed the Cau Hai Bay and began firing at the naval base located at the Tu Hien Inlet. It would prove to be a key maneuver in the final battle for Hue.
As Colonel Tri surveyed his defenses on 20 March, he was deeply concerned about the Quang Tri RF. He knew they were not cowards, but he also knew their morale had been shattered. As Tri wrote after the war, “the RF soldiers saw in front of them lines of people abandoning their villages and homes, carrying their worldly possessions on poles and with their children in their arms. Included among these fleeing crowds of people were their own wives, children, and other relatives. Faced with such a situation, how could the morale of the RF soldiers fail to be affected?”3
Preparing his defenses, on 21 March Colonel Tri ordered the engineers to blow up the bridge on Route 1 over the My Chanh River to prevent enemy armor from crossing. At the same time, a few artillery rounds struck Hue. It was enough to set the remaining population fleeing toward Tan My, further unnerving the already distraught RF troops. The same day, the 468th Marine Brigade arrived from Saigon. Its two battalions (its third battalion was still forming in Danang) replaced the 1st Airborne Brigade at the Hai Van Pass. The 258th Marine Brigade headquarters soon departed the pass, but left the 8th Marine Battalion behind. Why Truong did not order the 468th Brigade to assist the 8th Marine Battalion in opening Route 1 remains a mystery. He did not receive the message to return the Marine Division to Saigon until late on 22 March, and clearing Route 1 was critical if Lieutenant General Thi’s forces were to have any chance of escaping. Perhaps he was not confident the newly formed unit was combat ready. Still, leaving the 468th Marines sitting in their foxholes instead of attacking the roadblock was a crucial mistake by Truong.
Because of poor coordination, the B-4 Front was unable to launch its main attack north of Hue until the morning of 23 March. When it finally did attack, the RF initially held, but by noon they began to give way. Given the recent shelling of Hue and the blocking of Route 1, many troops had deserted to find their families, and the remaining few were in little mood to fight. Although Colonel Tri attempted to send a Marine company and tanks to support the RF, the North Vietnamese began shelling the 147th Brigade positions, halting that plan. In mid-afternoon, the RF collapsed and began streaming back to the final defensive line north of Hue behind the An Lo Bridge on the Bo River, only twelve miles from the city.
As the Communist troops slowly pursued the fleeing RF, at 3:00 P.M. the 4th Regiment launched its attack and caught a Marine battalion off guard. The Communist troops cut off two platoons and pushed back the Marine defenses. With his right flank unhinged by the collapsing RF, and no reserves to seal the breaches, Colonel Tri ordered a retreat back to the final Hue defensive line along the Bo River. That night the cut-off platoons escaped and linked up with their parent unit. Tri deployed the 14th Rangers from the An Lo Bridge to the Thuan An Lagoon, while pulling the 7th Marines back to defend Huong Dien. The 147th Brigade retreated behind the Bo River. The Quang Tri RF had virtually disintegrated as a fighting force. Most of their men fled into Hue despite the efforts of Marine officers and province officials to stop them.
On the morning of 23 March, PAVN also resumed the attack south of Hue. After reviewing the situation, Major General Nguyen Huu An ordered the 325th Division to send its two regiments to attack in opposite directions along Route 1. The previous day, one battalion from the 325th Division’s 101st Regiment was mauled taking a hill from the Rangers, but still managed to capture it. This placed the 101st in position to assault the Ranger base at Luong Dien. Taking Luong Dien would outflank ARVN forces defending Hill 303 and Mo Tau. On the morning of 23 March, the 101st Regiment assaulted Luong Dien. After a day-long battle, the Rangers retreated over the Truoi River and blew up the bridge behind them. By nightfall, they had withdrawn to Phu Bai. On the other flank, the 325th Division’s 18th Regiment overran Phu Loc after the 8th Marines pulled out.
To pin down the ARVN 1st Division, the remaining 324th Division regiment simultaneously attacked Hill 303 and Bong Mountain. The ARVN positions held out until a tank attack in the afternoon finally captured the two positions. With his defenses south of Hue being compressed, Brigadier General Diem ordered his two regiments defending the Mo Tau/Bong Mountain/Hill 303 complex to retreat to Phu Bai. They would block the enemy advance on Route 1 and backstop the Rangers. If Phu Bai fell, it was only ten miles to Hue. Diem also pulled the other two regiments west of Hue closer to the city.
While Truong’s northern front was embroiled in heavy fighting, his southern front was relatively quiet. That was about to change. ARVN Brigadier General Tran Van Nhut had pulled his units back to screen the populated lowlands and major cities. In a line running south from northern Quang Tin to the Binh Dinh province border, a distance of ninety miles, Nhut had the 5th Regiment and the 12th Ranger Group defending Tam Ky, the 4th Regiment at Chu Lai, and the 6th Regiment and the 11th Ranger Group in Quang Ngai City.
At the start of the campaign, the B-1 Front’s goals were to capture Tien Phuoc and eliminate several ARVN battalions. Now the B-1 commanders sensed an opportunity to destroy Nhut’s entire 2nd Division and capture all of Quang Ngai province. On 16 March they changed plans. The new design called for a major attack against Tam Ky that would draw in 2nd Division forces to defend the city, whereupon they would be surrounded and cut off. The 52nd Brigade would then liberate Quang Ngai. On 21 March PAVN artillery began blasting away at RF defenses near Tam Ky. Company-sized infantry probes whittled away at RF positions. Nhut reacted to the attacks precisely as the B-1 Front hoped: he moved the 4th Regiment from Chu Lai to reinforce Tam Ky, and he pulled a battalion from the 6th Regiment to protect Chu Lai.
Nhut, however, had another, growing problem. Troop morale was rapidly sinking as the men learned of the bloody retreat from the Highlands and, closer to home, the desperate situation in Hue and the growing refugee problem in Danang. Many of his soldiers were from Hue or Danang, and they were very worried about their families. Thus, when the main assault against Tam Ky began in the early morning of 24 March with concentrated artillery barrages followed by tank-supported infantry attacks, Nhut’s defenses collapsed. Two North Vietnamese infantry battalions soon penetrated the defenses south of the city, while another infantry battalion assaulted the city directly from the west.4 Nhut’s 4th Regiment retreated and was picked up by helicopters on a nearby beach; meanwhile, PAVN forces north of the city were slow to close Route 1, allowing the rest of the ARVN soldiers to escape. The 5th Regiment and most of the RF fled south to Chu Lai, while the 12th Rangers and thousands of civilians retreated north toward the Quang Nam border.
It was no different in Quang Ngai City. Learning of the Tam Ky disaster, Quang Ngai Regional Forces, the 11th Rangers, and elements of the 6th Regiment pulled back to the city’s western defensive line. At 1:00 P.M. on 24 March, the PAVN forces attacked. Tanks rumbled forward, artillery shells crashed down, and the 52nd Brigade and several local-force battalions charged the city’s outskirts. With his defenses crumbling, the Quang Ngai province chief radioed Nhut and requested that his forces be permitted to withdraw to Chu Lai. Truong approved the request. The ARVN units in Quang Ngai City formed a convoy and departed that night for Chu Lai. Tipped off to the evacuation by a radio intercept, PAVN forces repeatedly ambushed the convoy, causing 50 percent casualties. At midnight, Quang Ngai City fell to the North Vietnamese. Truong’s southern front had collapsed, more from poor morale and panic than from enemy pressure. Worse, thousands of new refugees were now streaming to Danang.
Besides his collapsing fronts, Truong faced another serious predicament. After receiving the 22 March JGS message to send the Marine Division back to Saigon, Truong ordered Lieutenant General Lam Quang Thi to meet him in Danang the next morning. When Thi arrived, Truong ordered him to continue defending Hue, but also to draft contingency plans to withdraw his forces to Danang. In discussing this possibility, Thi laid out his design. He wanted the Navy to sink ships across the eighty-yard-wide Tu Hien Inlet, and the Marines to secure Vinh Phong Mountain, which dominated the southern side of the inlet. Then the 1st Division, Thua Thien RF, and 15th Rangers would march across the ships and link up with the Marines, thereby bypassing the roadblock at Phu Loc. The forces north of Hue would retreat to the Tan My port and be picked up by Navy ships. When Truong and his staff agreed to these plans, Thi returned to Hue.
Thi spent 23 March preparing for the move. He began by shifting his headquarters out of Hue to the Thuan An naval base. On 24 March he called a meeting with Colonel Tri, Brigadier General Diem, and several other officers to discuss the situation. Gathering at the naval base, the officers described the grim situation. Hue was abandoned, thousands of civilians and vehicles were clogging the road to Tan My, the 1st Division was under heavy pressure, and radio intercepts revealed that enemy forces were preparing to launch more attacks. Given wavering troop morale and no reserves, they concluded that defending Hue was hopeless. Worse, Diem stated that if they did not move immediately, PAVN would soon punch through his lines and attack Tan My. At best they had a day before his lines collapsed.
The decision was made to have the Marines retreat to Tan My, cross the inlet, and then move along the beach away from the civilians to a pick-up point about three miles south. The 14th Rangers and 1st Armor Brigade would fight a rear-guard action and then join the Marines. The 1st Division would move to the Tu Hien Inlet, with the 15th Rangers and Thua Thien RF screening the beachhead. All supplies and heavy equipment, including artillery and tanks, would be destroyed. Diem told Thi that only two of his four regiments would be able to escape.
Thi ordered Diem and his chief of staff to fly to Danang and present the withdrawal plan to Truong. Meeting with Truong, Diem categorically stated the defense of Hue was impossible, so at 6:00 P.M. on 24 March, Truong ordered the evacuation. Concurrently, he told Nhut to withdraw all of his forces in Quang Tin and Quang Ngai provinces and prepare for the final defense of Chu Lai. Truong then called Thieu, who agreed that Hue was rapidly becoming untenable. Thieu approved the withdrawal plan, and Diem and his chief of staff flew back to deliver the news to Thi.
The final battle for I Corps was about to commence.
RESCUING THE PEOPLE
Back in December 1973, Major General John Murray had made two predictions about I Corps Forward. First, unless the Tan My port area was dredged to allow larger ships to dock, Truong’s forces could not effectively use the port to escape if Route 1 was blocked. Second, given the denial of the request for six additional LSTs by the DOD and State Department lawyers, the South Vietnamese would not have enough shipping to rescue the people and equipment trapped north of the Hai Van Pass.5 Now Murray’s prophecies were coming true with a vengeance. At the port, GVN authorities were desperately loading refugees onto various small ships, but there were too many people. The JGS, acting without authorization, managed to requisition one commercial South Vietnamese ship, which arrived at Tan My port on 23 March. Five thousand family members from the 1st Division were loaded onto the ship, and then it sailed for Danang. But approximately fifty thousand more remained trapped in a rapidly shrinking pocket, defended by troops whose morale was failing.
If Hue’s situation was dire, Danang was a looming calamity. On 22 March, Deputy Prime Minister for Social Welfare Dr. Phan Quang Dan arrived in Danang. He had been attending a conference in the Philippines when he received instructions from Prime Minister Khiem to hurry home and direct the government’s emergency refugee relief. Upon arrival in the beleaguered city, Dan announced the establishment of a local committee to coordinate refugee care. The committee, which included the mayor and several other prominent citizens, had actually been formed two days before. Oddly, however, despite thousands of people sleeping on the sidewalks and defecating in the streets, the mayor had waited until Dan’s arrival before taking any action.
Aware of Thieu’s design to truncate the nation, Dan planned to move the refugees south, but given the massive numbers, it was an impossible task for South Vietnam alone. Dan needed foreign assistance to help his countrymen.
In response to Lehmann’s 18 March recommendation that the U.S. begin planning for the sealift of vast numbers of civilians, on 20 March the State Department called a meeting of the Washington Special Actions Group (WSAG). The purpose of the meeting was to draft plans to support South Vietnam’s refugees, but only one idea was endorsed. Since U.S. government lawyers had banned the use of U.S. military ships in any sealift, the WSAG suggested that the GVN request the loan of six LSTs from Indonesia, South Korea, and Taiwan.
The GVN immediately agreed. Dan returned to Saigon on 23 March and began coordinating humanitarian aid. His first meeting was with the Philippine and Japanese ambassadors. Manila offered one LST; Tokyo replied that it could not provide shipping but would furnish nine billion yen to buy food and supplies. Dan then held a conference with General Vien, who recommended that he requisition all South Vietnamese civilian ships to assist with the refugee movement. Dan agreed and drafted the decree, but in another display of bureaucratic bungling, the minister of public works declined to sign the order. It sat on Dan’s desk for a week before he could return to Saigon and sign it himself.6 The delay botched any internal shipping support except for the one civilian vessel that had been requisitioned earlier.
Later that day, Dan met with Lehmann and the South Korean and Taiwanese ambassadors to discuss relief efforts. Dan said that there were currently six hundred thousand refugees in Danang, with many more on the way, along with the city’s population of four hundred thousand. The GVN could not care for that many people in one place, and it had only enough shipping to move sixty thousand refugees per month. Dan asked the South Korean and Taiwanese governments for ships to move people, and he solicited $4 million in humanitarian aid from Korea. Both ambassadors said they would pass the requests along to their governments. Lehmann then told Dan that he was arranging for civilian aircraft to ferry people from Danang. Dan suggested moving everyone first to Cam Ranh Bay, but said he would need several days to prepare for an influx of refugees.
The State Department also ordered the U.S. Embassies in Indonesia, South Korea, and Taiwan to query their host governments about using LSTs to help South Vietnam. The initial responses were lukewarm. The Indonesians declined, given their participation in the International Commission of Control and Supervision, the body set up to monitor compliance with the Paris Accords. The Koreans also proved reluctant to loan any ships. Nor were they overly thrilled about the $4 million request. Only the government of Taiwan was willing to consider the idea, but it wanted U.S. assurances that its ships would be returned in good shape and that the U.S. would pay all costs.
En route from the Middle East to Washington, Kissinger directed the American ambassadors in Taiwan and South Korea to implore their hosts to reconsider. Because Kissinger had no funding authority, nor could he guarantee that the ships would be returned undamaged, his only option was to plead. He directed the ambassadors to deliver a simple message: Since the Philippines had agreed to help despite the risk and without seeking reimbursement, and given the dire situation, could the governments assist solely out of humanitarian concern? Between Dan’s direct supplications to the ambassadors in Saigon and the U.S. entreaties in Taipei and Seoul, the pleas worked. Korea and Taiwan agreed to send two LSTs each, and aircraft if needed. Taiwan also quietly dropped its earlier condition that the U.S. pay for the trip and guarantee the ships’ safe return.
But there was one further snag. The LSTs in question had been manufactured in the U.S. and sold to South Korea and Taiwan. By law DOD was required to notify Congress fifteen days in advance that U.S.-originated material was being transferred. The GVN also had to commit in writing that it would not turn over the ships to a third country. With time absolutely critical, President Ford decided to let the ships sail and inform Congress afterwards.
The LST loan, however, was only a minor irritant to Congress. The aid debate had recently been roiled by a novel proposal from Senator Sam Nunn (D., Ga.), who had traveled to South Vietnam in January 1975. His trip report recommended that the U.S. match its aid to South Vietnam to that given North Vietnam by the Russians and Chinese. Nunn requested that the administration prepare a detailed analysis comparing aid to the two countries, although he acknowledged in his trip report that “the intelligence community is not able to put a dollar value on Soviet and Chinese aid to North Vietnam,” which seemed to undercut the idea.7
The CIA knew Nunn’s request was a ridiculous task. It was impossible to gauge how much it cost the Russians and Chinese to manufacture and ship equipment to the DRV. The CIA could not even accurately measure the amount of aid the North Vietnamese had received. Almost all intelligence on aid was derived from photo reconnaissance over North Vietnam, which had been halted in 1973. The CIA produced an initial report in January 1975 based mainly upon guesswork; it declared that the GVN had received significantly more aid than the DRV. When NSC staffers complained, the CIA tried a second time. An updated report on 5 March was filled with so many caveats as to be virtually useless, but the final tally was roughly the same.8 Since it appeared that Hanoi was doing more with less assistance, this only strengthened the impression of a weak South Vietnamese military.
Upon the return of the congressional delegation from Vietnam in early March, another round of hearings was held before the appropriate subcommittees to discuss the supplemental request. Despite battlefield events, the House Democratic Caucus remained deeply hostile to sending additional money, and on 12 March it voted overwhelmingly against further military aid to either South Vietnam or Cambodia. The Senate subcommittee, however, had voted a few days earlier to provide military aid to Cambodia. Shortly after the caucus vote, the House subcommittee met and forged a compromise. It would also vote for new aid for Cambodia, but with a major stipulation: a cut-off date of 30 June for military aid, although economic aid would continue. When the administration signaled that it would not accept this condition, the compromise was defeated, and no aid was voted on.
Senate aid opponents then pounced upon the House’s idea. On 17 March, the Senate Foreign Relations Committee accepted its subcommittee’s recommendation and voted to provide military aid to Cambodia, but several senators added a terminal date of 30 June to the bill. Two other senators subsequently introduced an amendment to the FY76 Defense Appropriations Bill to cease all military aid to South Vietnam after 30 June. On 18 March, Republican leaders met with President Ford to discuss the compromise: continued aid, but with a cutoff date. Ford again rejected the offer, saying it would interfere with his conduct of foreign policy. With Ford’s rebuff, congressional leaders decided to postpone action on the supplemental until after Congress returned from its normal two-week Easter recess. On 25 March Congress passed the overall foreign-aid bill for 1975. It was for $3.6 billion, which was $2.27 billion short of what Ford had requested. This was the biggest cut ever by Congress, and even that barely passed, as many legislators argued that the money could be better spent at home during a recession.
Whether the Democratic leadership realized how precarious South Vietnam’s situation was, or even cared, this action essentially killed the president’s 28 January supplemental request for $522 million for South Vietnam and Cambodia. The gap between the administration’s and Congress’s views on Indochina appeared unbridgeable. Ford and Kissinger believed that aid would allow South Vietnam and Cambodia to defend their countries, forcing North Vietnam to conclude that a military victory was impossible. Weakening Saigon would not compel Hanoi to negotiate a settlement; it would only invite the Politburo to launch a full-scale offensive. Moreover, the U.S. had a moral obligation to assist these countries, not only to honor the 58,000 Americans who had lost their lives defending South Vietnam, but also for the people whom we had encouraged to reject Communism. To betray them would be a national disgrace. Lastly, American credibility was at stake, for if we abandoned Indochina, our enemies around the world would be encouraged and our allies disheartened. In particular, the Chinese had reversed years of deep hostility and staked their policy on our image as a reliable partner against the Soviets. If we quit Indochina, it would have a dramatic impact on U.S. foreign policy around the globe, especially in Europe and the Middle East.
The congressional desire to terminate aid was based upon beliefs that were polar opposites to Ford’s and Kissinger’s. Many felt the war was lost and more aid was useless. If South Vietnam could hang on, reducing aid to Saigon would force Thieu out of power and hence allow a political solution that would include the Communists in the government. One freshman member of the House, Representative Henry Waxman (D., Calif.), expressed that view clearly: “We cannot promote the peace by providing the means of war. . . . Providing more military aid to Saigon only increases resistance to substantive negotiations.”9 Many legislators did not believe that South Vietnam was in great peril, or that cutting money would decide South Vietnam’s fate. More supplies would simply prolong a war many were convinced Thieu was guilty of re-starting. Regardless of the facts on the ground, one analyst of congressional intent later wrote: “it is clear that many critics believed that to approve Ford’s request would mean surrendering to a policy that had gone on for decades and would go on into the indefinite future. There was no light at the end of the tunnel.”10
But with South Vietnam’s desperate situation, the Ford administration could not wait for congressional action. Returning from the Middle East, Kissinger immediately began to coordinate the administration’s response to the growing crisis. Because of the lock Kissinger held on American foreign-policy-making, plus the lack of information on Thieu’s plans, little other than the LST idea had been broached until he arrived home. On 24 March he chaired a State Department meeting to talk over possible initiatives. After a lengthy discussion, Kissinger confirmed that the administration not only would continue with the supplemental request, but would ask for even larger sums. Despite the remote chance of success, he stated: “We will go up there and ask for what is right and not worry if we get creamed.”11
Kissinger’s staff concluded that reopening direct negotiations with Le Duc Tho would accomplish little. They felt Tho would simply stall until all of Hanoi’s military objectives were met. The best diplomatic effort the attendees could think of was to send letters to the Soviets and the Chinese asking them to rein in their ally. Kissinger realized the futility of diplomatic initiatives to halt Hanoi’s offensive without the threat of force, proclaiming that “I am convinced that North Vietnam will do absolutely nothing except under military pressure.” But the attendees knew that any military warnings were simply posturing as long as the legislation banning U.S. military action remained in effect. Ford would not risk a constitutional crisis by ordering air strikes. Even if he were willing to gamble on a showdown with Congress, Kissinger believed it would be a “disaster and mistake. We could not get any money at all if we did that.”
Other measures included a decision to draft a presidential statement asking for refugee assistance and condemning the North Vietnamese invasion. Ambassador Graham Martin, who was attending the meeting after being told to cut short his recuperation from dental surgery, was directed to write another letter from Ford to Thieu. It was one more in a long line of letters offering little more than moral support and promises. In essence, the administration was reduced to begging Congress for more aid while trying to find some feasible diplomatic steps to halt North Vietnam’s offensive, as if words were effective anti-tank weapons.
On 25 March, Ford dispatched General Frederick C. Weyand—who had been the last commander of U.S. military operations in Vietnam—on a fact-finding trip to South Vietnam. Martin would accompany Weyand and deliver the presidential letter to Thieu. That morning, Ford gathered in the Oval Office with Weyand, Kissinger, and Martin. Weyand’s mission was to assess the situation and write a report that could be used to persuade Congress to appropriate whatever aid the GVN needed. Ford told Weyand that “this is one of the most significant missions you have ever had. You are not going over to lose, but to be tough and see what we can do. . . . We want your recommendations for the things which can be tough and shocking to the North.”12 Ford, however, remained loath to press Congress to re-intervene with airpower. “I regret,” he said, “I do not have the authority to do some of the things President Nixon could do.” If Weyand ever needed confirmation that the B-52s would not return, this was it.
While Weyand assessed Saigon’s military needs, Martin was to provide the political support, such as it was. The letter Martin had drafted for Ford’s signature was designed to be supportive but not precise as to actions. The letter began by lamenting that “events over the last twelve months . . . resulted in a diminution of the American material support which your government had fully expected to receive.”13 After expressing an understanding of Thieu’s decision to retrench, Martin wrote: “you may rest assured that we will make every effort to secure from Congress adequate amounts of aid for South Vietnam. We fully realize this must be done promptly.” To ensure that “our military aid requests are specifically designed to meet your actual current needs,” Ford had dispatched General Weyand to assess the situation. Ending the letter, Martin wrote: “You and your people may be assured . . . of my resolve to do everything I can to help the Republic of Vietnam.” Everything except B-52s, something the South Vietnamese needed at the moment even more than aid.
Faced with heavy opposition from the Democratic-controlled Congress, Kissinger and Ford decided to resurrect the early-March proposal to Senators Pearson and Church for a three-year aid option. Ford was desperate to get something enacted, since on 21 March the White House Congressional Liaison Office had warned the president about the Senate bill to terminate all military aid to South Vietnam on 30 June. Given this new stipulation, the liaison office believed that Church and Pearson’s compromise offer was dead.
At a news conference on 26 March, Kissinger explained that because of congressional resistance, the administration was willing to consider a compromise as an alternative to losing the supplemental vote. Moreover, Kissinger appealed to America’s moral commitment to Indochina, stating that cutting off aid would “deliberately destroy an ally in its moment of extremity.”14 His plea was in vain. As the White House liaison office predicted, after the news conference, Senator Pearson declared that the vast gulf between the two sides’ aid amounts plus the 30 June cut-off amendment had killed the deal. President Ford’s last chance to gain aid for South Vietnam was gone.
BLOOD IN THE WATER
On the afternoon of 24 March, the Politburo hurriedly met in response to the swiftly changing battlefield. It had planned to gather on 25 March, but the collapsing Hue pocket and the capture of Tam Ky caused it to reconvene sooner. After Lieutenant General Le Trong Tan summarized the military situation, Le Duan took the floor. Clearly, he claimed, the South Vietnamese were reeling. With Danang teetering on collapse and ARVN retreating to Saigon, the People’s Army needed to step up its attacks. The Politburo decided to rapidly assault Danang while preparing to conquer Saigon, the ultimate prize. At this point, the old quandary surfaced: Should North Vietnam wait until the divisions from the B-3 Front could join Tra’s units before attacking Saigon, or should it attack with just Tra’s forces?
Although the Politburo agreed that PAVN needed to mass its forces, Le Duan wanted to take a stab at Saigon now. Laying out his reasoning, he stated: “We must mass sufficient main force strength on Saigon’s outer perimeter to destroy three divisions. . . . [But] If we are able to advance quickly, then we must advance, without worrying about whether we have time to consolidate and regroup. . . . The best leap forward that the revolution can make is to launch attacks and uprisings. Just go ahead and make military attack, because when we do uprisings will break out immediately.”15 Le Duan, despite hordes of civilians fleeing his advancing troops, still fervently believed that the South Vietnamese people were waiting to be liberated, and would storm the proverbial castle gates at the first chance.
On 25 March the regular Politburo meeting was held. The members concluded that the long-heralded “strategic opportunity” had finally arrived. Besides affirming their previous judgment that the People’s Army should quickly defeat I Corps while concurrently moving more troops to Saigon, they made several other major decisions. First, Lieutenant General Tan was assigned as the overall commander of Communist forces in the campaign to conquer Danang. Second, the 3rd Corps was formed from the separate units in the B-3 Front. Third, Le Duc Tho would go south and meet with Van Tien Dung to explain the Politburo’s reasoning, and would then proceed to COSVN to oversee the assault on Saigon. Most important, the Politburo once again advanced its timetable for liberating South Vietnam. The original plan had called for 1976. Then, after the liberation of Ban Me Thuot, the target date was changed to late 1975. Now, with the imminent destruction of I and II Corps, the Politburo decided to conquer Saigon in May, before the onset of the rainy season.
After the Politburo meeting, the General Staff worked throughout the night preparing plans to assault Danang. On 26 March, Tan met with Giap to present his strategy. Giap began the meeting by offering his opinion that ARVN would either rapidly withdraw from Danang, or defend it to the death. Given these two possibilities, Giap asked Tan, “How do you propose we fight?”16 Tan told Giap that he expected the South Vietnamese to defend Danang, and that it would take him five days to coordinate the assault. Giap then turned to the deputy head of Military Intelligence and asked: If the ARVN troops withdraw from Danang, how long will it take? “Three days” was the reply. Giap suggested that Tan draft plans to attack in three days. A stunned Tan exclaimed: “It is impossible to prepare to fight like that!” Giap recounts that for the first time, he showed “discontent” with Tan. Admonishing him that the ARVN forces might escape if he dithered, Giap followed Le Duan’s dictum and ordered Tan to toss caution aside and advance without regard to careful planning. Tan agreed, and he departed for Danang.
THE FALL OF HUE
After the meetings in Danang with his commanders from I Corps Forward, Lieutenant General Truong ordered the Navy to prepare for the evacuation of Hue. Truong’s naval commander, Commodore Ho Van Ky Thoai, formed a task force to rescue the South Vietnamese heading to the embarkation points. The Navy headquarters in Saigon also “committed every asset available, including LST Danang (HQ-501), which departed Saigon with one engine inoperative and with shipyard personnel embarked.”17 The warships of the Fleet Command created a screen stretching for ten miles around the Thuan An Inlet to guard against North Vietnamese patrol boats that might attempt to disrupt the evacuation, or to lay mines near the narrow entrance. Twenty-two landing craft—small World War II boats—from the Army’s Military Transportation Command were placed under the Navy’s control and ordered to ferry people out to the larger ships.
On 24 March the naval base at Tu Hien was charged with lashing several craft together so the 1st Division could cross, but the effort failed because the current was too swift. Sinking a ship was also determined to be unfeasible, so the Navy decided to tow a floating bridge from Danang. When the floating bridge finally arrived, enemy shelling from Vinh Phong Mountain by local forces that had infiltrated the night before prevented the Navy from accomplishing its mission. For some unknown reason, the Marines had failed to secure the high ground despite Lieutenant General Thi’s repeated requests.18
North of Hue on the morning of 24 March, the 4th Regiment crossed the Bo River in two places and assaulted the Marines. Heavy fighting raged, but the Marines held their ground. To support the Marine defenders, the 14th Rangers backed by armor counterattacked several times into the PAVN flank, but they did not succeed in destroying the two bridgeheads. However, after the decision in the late afternoon of 24 March to withdraw from Hue, Colonel Nguyen Thanh Tri ordered the Marines to retreat. The 1st Armor Brigade and the 14th Rangers acted as rear guard. After the Marines left, the Rangers retreated and blew up the An Lo Bridge behind them.
Marching almost twenty miles that night, by the morning of 25 March the exhausted Marines had gathered on the beach several miles south of the Thuan An port. After the Marines formed a defensive perimeter, Colonel Tri and his headquarters boarded a small transport ship and moved offshore. The 1st Armor Brigade was forced to abandon much of its equipment several miles from Tan My. Thousands of other troops, including logistics, engineers, and RF/PF, jammed the port, while abandoned vehicles and equipment littered the road. Numerous buildings burned from enemy artillery shells, and people lay dead in the fields, killed by shrapnel or marauding soldiers. The 14th Ranger Group held the rear, and its reconnaissance company was the last ARVN unit to withdraw from Hue. Fortunately for the South Vietnamese, the B-4 Front forces did not pursue with zeal. Not until late that night did the B-4 Front order its reserve, the 8th Quang Tri Battalion, to seize Hue.
After receiving sporadic artillery fire at the Thuan An naval base, around 6:30 P.M. on 24 March, Lieutenant General Thi and his staff boarded a Navy ship. At this point, Thi lost control of his units. Worse, upon returning from his meeting with Truong, Brigadier General Diem gathered his staff for a final conference. While there remains confusion as to his exact orders, instead of leading his division in its most critical hours, Diem disbanded his unit and told his senior officers to make their own way to the pick-up point at Tu Hien. While the division had fought valiantly to this point, by midnight of 24 March, it had collapsed. Diem’s dissolution of the division doomed the Hue pocket. The end of resistance south of Hue opened an easy path for the PAVN regiments to reach the Marine laager point, not to mention the Tan My/Thuan An ports. Why Diem, a native of Hue who had served for years in the 1st Division, disbanded his unit is unknown: he died several days later in a helicopter crash and left no explanation.
Despite the mobs at the ports, the landing craft continued to shuttle people from Tan My out to the LST Can Tho (HQ-801). They rescued about six thousand civilians on 24 March. While the evacuation continued that night, rough seas and enemy shelling were making it increasingly hazardous. By midnight, over half of the landing craft had abandoned the rescue and fled to Danang.
For the Marines on the beach, dawn on 25 March revealed heavy waves and strong currents. The Navy shifted from the ports to the beach in order to rescue the Marines, but the poor conditions prevented the small landing boats from coming ashore. At 1:30 P.M., the order was given for the Can Tho to beach. The LST could only get within ninety yards of the shore, where it halted and dropped rope ladders over its sides. While the Marines had maintained unit discipline, ARVN troops had not. Several thousand civilians and leaderless soldiers had followed the Marines. The 5th Marine Battalion commander described the horror as people frenetically surged toward the ship. “Those who did not know how to swim desperately clung to anyone who did, struggling against the angel of death there in the ocean waves. A few M-113s swam out, driving right over them. Screams filled the air. One wave would pick them up and the next would drive them underwater. Heads bobbed up and down, and many bodies sank under the waves and disappeared as the ship sat there with its engines running, waiting.”19 With the current growing stronger, after less than an hour, the Can Tho reversed engines and pulled back to avoid becoming grounded. Only one hundred people had made it onboard.
The Marines decided to shift further south along the beach to avoid the mobs of soldiers and civilians. After marching south a mile, the Marines spread out and dug foxholes in the sand. While many civilians and soldiers followed them, the Marines expelled them from their perimeter, and they shot several people they considered Communist infiltrators. It was the first crack in the vaunted Marine discipline. The VNN ships, however, had no better luck finding a suitable landing area in the new position.
After the Marines retreated, the People’s Army north of Hue slowly moved forward. Local-force units pushed toward Thuan An, while the 4th Regiment moved west of Hue along the edge of the mountains. The 8th Quang Tri Battalion crossed the Bo River on Route 1 and by 9:00 A.M. 25 March had captured a district town only three miles outside of Hue. It then sent a reconnaissance element to seize another bridge on the city’s edge. While the reconnaissance troops were at the second bridge, two underground agents rode up on a motorcycle and announced that ARVN had abandoned the city. Commandeering a Marine jeep, three men from the 8th Battalion and the two underground agents entered the city. At 10:30 A.M. they raised their flag over the Hue Citadel, on the same flagpole many ARVN 1st Division soldiers had died retaking in 1968. At noon, advance elements of the 3rd Regiment, 324th Division, riding on captured tanks, entered Hue from the south. Continuing their advance toward the ocean, B-4 Front units and the 2nd Regiment, 324th Division, which was moving toward Tan My, linked up around 5:00 P.M. Both ports had now been captured.
Lieutenant General Thi, learning that Tu Hien was under enemy fire and that the Navy had not erected the bridge across the inlet mouth, ordered the ships to proceed south to pick up the troops stranded there. The vast majority of VNN ships departed at 4:45P.M.One 1st Division regiment had arrived at the Tu Hien Inlet, but the naval officer commanding the coastal squadron moved his ships out to sea after an Army officer pulled out his pistol and threatened to kill him if he did not transport his troops to the other side. Now stranded, some soldiers stole local fishing boats while others attempted to swim across the inlet. Many drowned in the swift currents. With the arrival of the Navy ships at Tu Hien around midnight 25 March, the small landing craft began shuttling troops. By dawn, they had managed to rescue about 1,100 soldiers.
With the bulk of the Navy at Tu Hien, Colonel Tri arranged for three other landing craft to beach at dawn, 26 March, to rescue his four thousand stranded Marines. Tri ordered that the wounded and dead be loaded first, then the brigade headquarters, and then the rest of the Marines. The 7th Battalion would hold the line and board last. When the first landing craft hit the beach that morning, the Marines loaded in an orderly fashion, but after an hour, the enemy arrived. As the ship sat exposed, a PAVN unit fired an AT-3 Sagger anti-tank missile. The missile hit the ship, wounding the 147th Brigade commander. Fearful of more missiles, the ship quickly backed away. Only eight hundred Marines had made it onboard. To avoid the encroaching enemy, the Marines again moved south on the beach.
Around noon, another landing craft beached. This time, Marine discipline gave way. Hundreds of men swarmed the ship, and it became overloaded and stuck in the sand. Many of the trailing civilians and soldiers also tried to rush onboard. Since the Marines had been told this ship was reserved for them, they began shooting people to rid themselves of the weight. This total collapse of Marine discipline would manifest itself again in Danang and in further evacuations. As the ship lay immobilized, the PAVN gunners suddenly found the range. Several rounds hit the ship, wounding and killing dozens. Realizing they were sitting ducks, a Marine battalion commander ordered everyone off. As the bow door opened, Communist machine-gun fire cut down dozens more. The remaining Marines desperately dug defensive positions and tried to fight back, but they were almost out of ammunition.
As night fell on 26 March, firefights with PAVN troops continued. The Marines had nowhere to hide, and the senior commanders decided they had no choice but to try and fight their way to the Tu Hien crossing. Forming a column, the remaining troops moved south along the beach. Very few Marines made it to Tu Hien, and most were captured the next day. Many committed suicide with grenades rather than surrender. The 147th Marine Brigade died on the beach; only about one in four Marines were rescued. PAVN figures for South Vietnamese losses in the Hue pocket are staggering: they claim they captured thirty thousand soldiers, including RF/PF. In addition to the Marine brigade, the 1st Division, 14th and 15th Ranger Groups, 1st Armor Brigade, several artillery battalions, and fifteen RF battalions were destroyed. Equipment losses were enormous; the Communists captured one hundred forty tanks and personnel carriers, eight hundred trucks, and ten thousand tons of ammunition.20
The situation was also desperate on Truong’s southern front. Brigadier General Tran Van Nhut spent the night of 24 March in his helicopter overseeing the retreating convoy from Quang Ngai. The column arrived at Chu Lai on the morning of 25 March. According to Nhut, when he arrived the “base was flooded with RF and PF units, police, government officials, and civilians from the provinces of Quang Tin and Quang Ngai. The dock area swarmed with people who could see an LST troop transport anchored in the Chu Lai harbor. Twice I personally had to use a bullhorn to warn the troops to return to their units and take up defensive positions against a possible enemy attack, but it seemed as if no one was listening. The soldiers were afraid of being abandoned in Chu Lai, as had happened to other troops during the evacuation of II Corps.”21
With the base jammed, Nhut called Truong and asked permission to withdraw to Re Island, twenty miles offshore. Despite JGS orders to bring the 2nd Division to Danang to replace the Marine Division, with Danang overflowing with refugees, Truong agreed.22Nhut flew out to see the captain of the ship, the LST Nha Trang (HQ-505). While Chu Lai had a large pier that could accommodate the ship, the dock was packed with an unruly mob of approximately ten thousand people. Nhut decided to avoid the civilians and have the LST land that night on a nearby beach to pick up his troops. He quickly gathered his staff and commanders to plan the evacuation. According to Colonel Le Thuong, the division artillery commander, “A detailed time schedule was established and issued verbally in a general meeting attended by the entire division headquarters staff and the commanders of all units of the division. The evacuation order laid out a plan to destroy all artillery pieces, armored vehicles, and heavy equipment which could not be evacuated; to destroy all ammunition dumps and fuel storage tanks; and to burn down the barracks and headquarters buildings.”23 To assist with the evacuation, the Navy ordered the LST Vinh Long (HQ-802) and the smaller Landing Ship Medium (LSM) Huong Giang (HQ-404), plus six small landing craft from Qui Nhon, to divert to Chu Lai.
At 9:00 P.M. on 25 March, the LST Nha Trang moved to the beach, where about five thousand soldiers and several M-113 personnel carriers had gathered. Once again the water was too shallow, and the ship went aground one hundred yards offshore. This caused a repeat of the horrific scenes on the beach near Tu Hien. As Colonel Thuong recalls: “Fear grew quickly in the darkness as ear-shattering explosions from the exploding ammunition dumps split the night, and flames from burning fuel tanks lit a whole section of the sky. Inside the base, all the buildings began to burn, filling the air with smoke and causing men to lose their grip and their very ability to reason. The situation became irreversible and there was no solution, no one was issuing orders, and military discipline collapsed. Everyone tried only to save his own skin—some swimming out to the ship, others climbing aboard M-113s which drove recklessly into the surf, ramming into each other in the struggle to reach the ship. Untold numbers of men died in the confusion.”24After panicky soldiers tossed hand grenades and killed several people on the ship, the Nha Trang backed away from the beach. Nhut ordered the ship to dock at the pier.
To prevent the mob from storming the ship, the Nha Trang halted ten yards from the dock and erected a makeshift gangplank between the pier and the ship. This forced the people to load single file, which greatly reduced the hysteria. At around 1:00 A.M. on 26 March, the other ships arrived at Chu Lai harbor. With the tide running out, only the Huong Giang could enter. It tied up behind the Nha Trang and also took on people. By noon, the majority of the people were loaded and the ships left the harbor. They attempted to return later that night to pick up the 6th Regiment, which was serving as rear guard, but they were unable to enter the harbor because of enemy fire from the banks.
While the withdrawal was chaotic, and all the heavy equipment and many small arms were lost, the Navy had managed to evacuate 10,500 troops and civilians. According to Navy Captain Pham Manh Khue, “4,000 of them were 2nd Division personnel, 4,000 from RF units of Quang Tin and Quang Ngai, and the rest were policemen, dependents, and civilians. On 27 March 6,000 servicemen and their dependents disembarked at Re Island, and the rest were shipped to Danang.”25
THE FINAL COLLAPSE
While events in I Corps were spiraling out of control, discontent was growing among Thieu’s senior officers, who openly questioned his conduct of the war. Aware of the disgruntlement, on 24 March Thieu sent an “eyes-only” message, part exhortation and part explanation, to his military commanders and province chiefs. “Our nation is currently undergoing a period of very grave challenges,” he wrote. “The current situation can easily cause fear and confusion among the army and the civilian population. . . . Today I feel I must call your attention to the following points. . . . The recent actions taken by the government and the army were courageous decisions that were implemented by the National Security Council after very careful consideration, and were done to preserve our forces in order to firmly protect the most heavily populated and richest parts of our nation. In my speech on 20 March 1975 I emphasized that all the remaining portions of the country that we still hold will be defended to the last. All rumors and irresponsible speculation contrary to the above-mentioned facts is part of a Communist plot aimed at using psychological warfare to sabotage the fighting spirit of our soldiers.”26
To reinforce his guidelines, the next day Thieu fired off another message. This communication, sent only to his four corps commanders, was unambiguous: “All provinces and territory that we still possess as of today, 25 March 1975, must be defended to the death. At every location we must make efforts to inflict the maximum destruction on the enemy, slow the enemy’s rate of advance, strengthen and consolidate our defenses, and use every idea and resource to launch counter-attacks. Corps . . . commanders bear the responsibility for directing, guiding, and monitoring all unit and territorial commanders under your command to ensure absolute compliance with these orders.”27
The messages demonstrated that Thieu would not alter his habit of bypassing the JGS, thereby preventing centralized military planning. By dividing authority, Thieu’s system had effectively prevented any general from accumulating sufficient power to overthrow him. However, during a national crisis when strategic decisions were required, the system broke down. With no national planning process, the individual corps had been left alone to handle a major Communist offensive. More important, Thieu’s “defend to the death” order–especially in I Corps, where two enclaves were evacuating–indicated a growing disconnect between the Palace and reality on the ground.
That was partly due to poor information flowing from regional headquarters back to Saigon, but the bigger reason was that Thieu was consumed with political maneuvering. The same day as his “defend to the death” message, the government announced that Thieu had directed Prime Minister Khiem “to reshuffle the government structure” in order to improve the situation. At the same time, he invited “anti-communist nationalists, who are qualified and willing to dedicate themselves to the national cause, to participate in the cabinet.”28 For the first time, Thieu was bowing to the wishes of the opposition and opening his government. The key phrase, however, was “willing to dedicate themselves to the national cause.” It was Thieu’s way of saying: No political machinations to oust him.
On 26 March Thieu made his second national radio broadcast. Reading an “Order of the Day” to the nation, he told the people that faced with the Communists’ “obvious superiority in numbers and firepower, we have to reduce the scope of our defense in order to ensure that it is consistent with the facilities and capabilities at our disposal in these two Military Regions.”29 Rationalizing the retreats as due to a lack of “facilities and firepower” (meaning U.S. aid and airpower), Thieu never mentioned the capture of Hue, and he downplayed the heavy ARVN losses. Attempting to bolster morale, he reminded his countrymen that they had stopped countrywide Communist attacks during the 1968 and 1972 offensives.
To re-emphasize his points, he spoke on TV later that day. He admitted that provinces in I Corps had fallen, but he did not mention that Hue had been lost. Because of the imbalance of forces, Thieu said, Lieutenant General Truong had been forced “to withdraw to ensure the life or death defense of Danang and Quang Nam.”30 Stating that he had ordered the military to “defend to the death,” he sought to inspire the “anti-communist, nationalist spirit of all the compatriots.” He had directed Prime Minister Khiem to create a “fighting government” that will not “solicit surrender to the communists, recognize the existence of a second nation in the south, or accept a solution calling for a coalition with the communists that will allow them to easily take over our south.” Moreover, he and the National Assembly had taken “the necessary moves vis-à-vis the U.S. government and Congress, so the latter will take strong, immediate action to rapidly provide a sufficient volume of necessary facilities to our armed forces so they can fight. I eagerly await the results of these moves.” He closed by appealing to the people to support the government, and to assist the refugees.
Despite his brave words, the two speeches failed to squelch the persistent rumors that the withdrawal orders were part of a secret and nefarious deal to cede control of the northern half of South Vietnam to the PRG. After the war, Thieu came under much criticism from South Vietnamese for not addressing this rumor, which as we have seen had a terrible impact on troop morale. He was also criticized for not speaking to the people more often to explain the situation. The criticisms are valid, as Thieu waited until 20 March to make his first broadcast, and it was not until 26 March that he explained his strategy. Although the South Vietnamese population had responded to Thieu’s previous appeals, this time his efforts, while a remarkably transparent outline of his policies for a man accused of being a dictator, were too little and too late. The South Vietnam of March 1975 was a different country from the South Vietnam of 1972: isolated, lacking American airpower, near bankruptcy, and with a war-weary population that blamed Thieu for its economic and military predicament.
At the same time Thieu was trying to rally the country, Lehmann kept his promise and arranged for flights to Danang to begin on 26 March. He contracted with World Airways out of Oakland, California, for twenty flights to remove refugees. World Airways, which was then airlifting rice and ammunition to the beleaguered Cambodian army, had a long history of chartered contracts to fly U.S. troops and supplies around South Vietnam. The company immediately dispatched one Boeing 727 to Saigon. On 26 March, the first World Airways flights were made to Danang, taking out over two thousand people. At the same time, Major General Homer Smith shifted six tugs and five barges that had been engaged in the Mekong River convoys hauling supplies to Cambodia to assist in the evacuation. On 25 March the Military Sealift Command (MSC) alerted ten ships to steam toward Danang to pick up equipment and supplies. The first ship, the Pioneer Contender, pulled into Danang on 27 March. During the next several days four of the tugs Smith dispatched, and three other MSC ships, the Sgt. Andrew Miller, Pioneer Commander, and American Challenger, also arrived.
On 24 March the GVN made a worldwide plea for assistance with the massive influx of refugees in Danang. Kissinger used this appeal to get the U.S. bureaucracy moving. On 27 March, Kissinger and Secretary of Defense Schlesinger made the decision to mount a massive sea- and airlift to move the refugees south using U.S. Navy LSTs based in the Philippines, which could arrive more quickly than the Korean and Taiwanese ships. Given the War Powers Resolution, plus the debacle at Chu Lai, Schlesinger ordered that no American combat ships enter South Vietnamese ports. The ships would anchor offshore and the people would be lightered out.
The next day, a message was sent to the U.S. Embassy asking if Truong could provide adequate security for a substantial American rescue effort. Ambassador Martin, who had just arrived in Saigon with General Weyand, quickly replied: “Danang is swollen with what is certainly around a million refugees, and the actual number may be 1.5 million, plus the normal population of 500,000. This sheer mass, even if orderly and calm, would strain civilian government to the breaking point. The populace of Danang is neither orderly nor calm. The airport is being mobbed as are virtually all conceivable ship and port embarkation points. . . . Further compounding the problem is a large number of armed ARVN stragglers who have no cohesion or discipline. You have, in short, a city under siege and perhaps on the verge of being attacked with over two million people milling around, many out of control, and effective law and order breaking down.”31 Martin requested that U.S. combat units be utilized, along with the fleet currently standing by to evacuate the U.S. Embassy in Cambodia.
Kissinger turned him down on both counts, and Martin reacted with indignation. “It seems that the extreme emergency nature of the situation and the very real potential for a massive tragedy is still not understood. The fact of the matter is that the situation is so extremely serious that nothing but an all-out effort with every available resource will be minimally adequate.”32 Martin stoked the fire by stating, “we believe that failure on our part to move massively and without restrictions in this human emergency will not be understood.” This was the first clash between him and Kissinger, a rift that would only grow wider as Martin tried to bully Kissinger into actions that congressional restrictions would not let him take.
Separately, Kissinger had concluded that South Vietnam would not survive. While he remained convinced that Thieu’s decision to withdraw was based upon congressional aid cuts, he told President Ford on 28 March that “the force ratios are so bad I don’t think Vietnam can make it. Cambodia certainly could have lasted had we not deserted them. It is a moral collapse of the United States.”33 The next day at a staff meeting, he lamented that if Thieu had stood and fought, making PAVN “suffer at each point in Vietnam over the past few weeks, things might have been different. But the disgrace is ours.” When a staffer remarked that the Soviets should be held accountable for equipping the North Vietnamese, Kissinger brushed aside that point, stating, “we can’t ask the Soviets in the spirit of détente to save us from ourselves.”34
In Danang, the situation was growing worse by the hour. Despite the visit by Deputy Prime Minister Dan and the creation of the refugee committee, the sheer number of people overwhelmed GVN efforts. With over one million people crowding Danang’s streets, on 26 March Truong ordered his deputy, Major General Hoang Van Lac, to fly to Saigon and plead for transportation. Lac’s message was simple: Moving the refugees would give Truong a chance to restore order and stiffen the defenses. Otherwise, all was lost.
Despite Lac’s efforts, until the ships arrived, airplanes were the only means to move people out. While the initial World Airways flights went smoothly, on the early afternoon of 27 March the growing legion of people at the airport suddenly became disorderly and rushed a plane, and the field was shut down. The city’s streets were no better. With increasing chaos caused by armed stragglers fighting with civilians over food, the police began to melt away. Control broke down, leading to riots and other serious crimes. After the first ships arrived, people rushed to the docks, creating more madness.
To make matters worse, the JGS warned Truong that signal intercepts indicated the enemy intended to shell Danang at 7:00 P.M. on 28 March. With morale shaky, Truong ordered the Marines and Major General Hinh’s 3rd Division to pull their troops back to a final defensive line around Danang. This meant Hinh’s regiments south of Danang were now just ten miles away, placing South Vietnam’s second-largest city well within enemy artillery range. The 468th Marine Brigade continued to defend the Hai Van Pass, while the 369th Marine Brigade held the center of the perimeter. Hinh, however, had a growing desertion problem. On 27 March he noted: “Almost all personnel assigned to 3rd Division rear base support units and to the division headquarters have deserted to go take care of their families. My [main] base at Hoa Khanh is gradually emptying out.”35
Sensing that ARVN’s final collapse was at hand, on 26 March Giap’s staff issued orders for PAVN units to rapidly advance on Danang. The plan called for the 2nd Division to attack from the south on Route 1, while the 304th Division at Thuong Duc would move forward from the west. The 2nd Corps would capture the Hai Van Pass and assault Danang from the north. Nguyen Huu An was told to “send additional artillery pieces [to the Hai Van] . . . so that, when the order is given, this position can immediately begin shelling the Danang airfield. You must do whatever is necessary to overcome all terrain obstacles in order to move your artillery forward far enough to reach the Danang harbor and port area.”36
To accomplish this task, An had to overcome some major problems. Only the 18th Regiment, 325th Division, was close to the Hai Van Pass. His other units were all in Hue, the bridge on Route 1 over the Truoi River had been destroyed, and his logistics were scattered across two provinces. He immediately tasked his deputy, Major General Hoang Dan, with directing the assault against the Hai Van Pass. To bring his combat power to bear, he told his engineers to rebuild the Truoi River bridge so that he could truck his soldiers to the Hai Van. He also sent two tank companies and two batteries of 130-mm guns to reinforce the 18th Regiment. An would join the 304th Division west of Danang, bringing with him a battalion of tanks. He ordered his corps rear services to unsnarl any logistics jams and to use ARVN equipment to replace or augment their own. Each sector would employ the Soviet tactic of “attack from the march,” meaning that if the troops encountered any resistance, they would immediately attack instead of stopping to prepare.
Responding rapidly to An’s orders, on the morning of 28 March, Hoang Dan pushed forward. Throughout the day, the soldiers of the 18th Regiment engaged RF troops holding positions near the pass. Dan’s troops finally pushed through, but then faced another problem: a bridge on Route 1 that had been blown up by PAVN sappers a week earlier. The engineers were unable to repair it in time, so Dan left his heavy armor and artillery behind and moved forward with seven amphibious PT-76 tanks. At 5:30 A.M. on 29 March, a battalion from the 18th Regiment, followed by the PT-76s, assaulted the Hai Van Pass.
An’s artillery, meanwhile, had moved into position, and just as JGS intelligence had predicted, they began firing at 7:00 P.M. on 28 March. Three hundred rounds hit the airfield and logistics centers around Danang. They struck Truong’s headquarters, forcing him to move to the Danang naval base. Communications with Saigon were cut, but not before the JGS warned Truong that signals intelligence had now gleaned that PAVN intended to launch a full-scale assault at 5:00 the next morning. On the basis of that information, Truong made the decision to abandon the city. That night, he called a meeting with his commanders and told them to move their troops to the beaches. Hinh protested, saying that he could not plan a move with so little time. When Truong said nothing, Hinh realized he had no choice.
The Navy immediately moved to pick up units from the beach. The 468th Marine Brigade was successfully evacuated by the LSM Lam Giang (HQ-402) at the foot of the Hai Van Pass at 6:00 A.M. on 29 March. The 369th Marines retreated to a beach south of Danang, with the 304th Division in hot pursuit. The brigade began to board the LSM Huong Giang (HQ-404), the same ship that had helped rescue the 2nd Division at Chu Lai. The water was not deep, but the sea conditions were rough, with high waves. Colonel Nguyen Thanh Tri helped Lieutenant General Truong wade out to the ship. As the Marines loaded, PAVN gunners began to shell the beach. The Huong Giang was forced to back away after picking up about five hundred Marines. When PAVN forces arrived, the Marines resisted for several hours, but eventually three thousand surrendered. The 369th Brigade commander was probably killed by enemy fire on the beach. In the 3rd Division, only one of Hinh’s regiments made it to the landing zone, where the HQ-402 picked them up. Only about a thousand of his men out of approximately twelve thousand made it onto the ship; the rest were stranded.
South of Danang, the PAVN 2nd Division moved north on Route 1. Despite orders not to tangle with South Vietnamese defenses, the lead regiment kept stopping to engage RF troops. After the third incident, the 2nd Division commander sacked the regimental commander for not bypassing the defenders. All PAVN columns reached Danang by mid-morning 29 March. They entered the city, and by 3:00 P.M. Communist flags flew over Danang. I Corps had disintegrated in one of the most remarkable defeats in modern military history. The losses were enormous, akin to battles on the Eastern Front in the opening days of Germany’s attack on Russia in World War II. According to North Vietnamese figures for the entire campaign from 5 to 29 March, PAVN forces “eliminated almost 120,000 enemy personnel from the field of battle (only 6,000 enemy troops managed to escape). Of this total, 55,000 were captured on the battlefield, while the rest deserted their units and turned themselves in.”37 They captured “129 aircraft, 179 tanks and APCs, 327 artillery pieces, 47 ships and boats, 1,084 military vehicles, and large quantities of ammunition and fuel.”
So much has been written about the chaos at Danang’s ports, there is little reason to repeat it here. For the South Vietnamese who escaped, the city’s fall would forever be known as “the hours of hell” (Gio Dia Nguc). Danang’s panicky and very public collapse only confirmed long-held impressions in the West that ARVN was a house of cards waiting for the first strong gust to blow it over. While the panic displayed at the evacuation points was a disgrace, however, for the most part South Vietnamese forces had fought well. It was not until late in the campaign that numerous factors caused a sudden and irreversible breakdown of morale. While many have cited the withdrawal of the Airborne Division as the primary cause, the cutting of Route 1 south of Hue was just as important. Also critical was the U.S. Congress’s denying aid in the middle of the offensive. After the fall, a senior CIA officer with close ARVN ties reported that “the general consensus among the officers and men was that they could have held out for some time longer, but it seemed useless in view of probably total discontinuance of U.S. military aid.”38 The news of the disastrous retreat from the Highlands plus the rumors of partition also played a large role.
More important still was the mass of refugees. Truong later wrote: “The most significant problem facing me were the hundreds of thousands of refugees who moved in an uncontrollable mass to Danang. This force represented a greater danger and contributed more to the defeat of the ARVN than did the enemy. Combat units attempting to deploy . . . were swallowed up in the mass of humanity which choked Route 1 and intermediate land routes. Confusion, frustration, and ultimately panic began to grip some combat units.”39
Most important of all was the family syndrome. While not excusing the ARVN collapse, the family syndrome is the key to understanding the events of late March 1975. As the I Corps Navy commander remarked after the war about the impact of housing relatives near the units, “Do you think that you would have the courage to abandon [your wife and children] there and go to the bunker to fight back? Let them just take care of themselves?”40 Thoai’s analysis rings true for any army, not just the South Vietnamese.