4

“A RAINY SEASON LIKE NO OTHER”

THE WAR RESUMES

For many years, the pendulum of war had swung in concert with the dry and wet seasons. Heavy combat raged in III Corps during the dry period—roughly from October to May—with reduced fighting during the monsoon. But 1974 was different. This time when the rains came, Colonel General Tran Van Tra’s B-2 Front continued to attack in III Corps and in IV Corps, the southern part of South Vietnam. Tra’s aim was to gut ARVN combat effectiveness while simultaneously improving his own strategic posture in preparation for striking even heavier blows in 1975.

Tra, unimposing and slight of build, typically wore a rumpled uniform, often minus any insignia or rank. Without the supplies and equipment of his peers closer to the great rear area of North Vietnam, he saw himself as a chess master, making subtle moves to achieve victory. His real name was Nguyen Chan, and he was born in 1919 in Quang Ngai province. He joined the revolution in 1936, and became a Party member in 1938. He fought near Saigon during the war against the French, and then departed for Hanoi after the Geneva Accords. He returned to the B-2 Front area in late 1962, and served as either commander or deputy commander until the end of the war. Few PAVN generals served in one location as long as Tra, a longevity which only buttressed his confidence regarding his own military acumen. The General Staff, on the other hand, viewed him with disdain.

In December 1973, COSVN issued its strategic guidance for 1974. Derived from the Politburo’s Resolution 21, Tra decided to launch “strategic raids” beginning in March. Each raid would be a large attack against a specific target to achieve a particular and limited purpose. He wanted to accomplish four distinct goals in the III Corps area. His first objective was to prevent the South Vietnamese from strengthening Saigon’s defenses. He would accomplish that by seizing territory in close proximity to critical locations. The North Vietnamese referred to this strategy as “fighting within the Paris Agreement,” as if some new clause had been discovered that permitted the Communists to attack without violating the ceasefire. Tra’s second objective was to expand the “liberated” zones by eliminating isolated ARVN outposts inside Communist-held territory—and to prevent the “encroachment” of new settlers through terror tactics—so that his units would have easy movement corridors. Third, by keeping ARVN on the defensive, he would prevent an attack against Loc Ninh, the small district down in Binh Duong province that was Tra’s sole conquest from the bloody 1972 offensive. Lastly, Tra wanted to rebuild the very weak urban political movement so that it could foment unrest in the cities. This wouldassist the offensive by creating chaos and thereby undermining South Vietnamese morale.

To defend themselves, the South Vietnamese had significant forces in III Corps. They had three Army divisions—the 5th, the 18th, and the 25th—the 3rd Armored Cavalry Brigade, two VNAF air divisions, three Ranger Groups, dozens of Regional Forces (RF) battalions, and the elite 81st Airborne Ranger Group, a highly trained three-thousand-man reconnaissance element. However, all three Army divisions had been long regarded as among ARVN’s worst units, although the 5th had overcome part of that reputation with its stubborn defense of An Loc in 1972. The 5th Division covered the northern approaches to Saigon, the 25th guarded the capital’s western flank, and the 18th defended its eastern side.

Tra’s first strategic raid came at the end of March 1974, when elements of the PAVN 5th Division attacked the district seat of Duc Hue in Hau Nghia province west of Saigon. His intent was to drive all South Vietnamese forces away from the Cambodian border and across to the Saigon side of the Vam Co Dong River. His troops could then use this area as a logistics base.

On 27 March the Communists infiltrated a small sapper unit into Duc Hue, held by the 83rd Border Ranger Battalion. After the Rangers repulsed them, a large infantry attack quickly followed. The Rangers defeated the second assault, and when an ARVN relief column was stopped short of the town, PAVN settled into a blockade. The 83rd Rangers, with their families in the camp, began to endure daily bombardments and infantry probes. A second rescue attempt by an ARVN 25th Division task force, combined with VNAF air strikes, failed to break the North Vietnamese encirclement. The two sides had now reached a stalemate.

At the end of April, ARVN decided to crack the cordon around Duc Hue. The III Corps headquarters coordinated a large-scale assault combining several battalions from the ARVN 25th Division, the 7th Ranger Group, and local Regional Forces, all under the overall direction of the 3rd Armored Cavalry Brigade. Commanded by Brigadier General Tran Quang Khoi, the brigade was a unique outfit in the South Vietnamese Army, more akin to an American cavalry unit than pure armor. Khoi, extremely intelligent and decisive, was considered by his former American advisors to be ARVN’s best armor officer. He possessed an innate ability to adapt conventional armor tactics to Vietnam’s distinctive geography. His brigade consisted of three subordinate units: Task Forces (TF) 315, 318, and 322. Each task force was a composite unit comprising a Ranger battalion from the 33rd Ranger Group, an artillery battery, and an armor squadron.1

The plan called for the Regional Forces and other ARVN units to attack and prevent the retreat of the Communist elements surrounding Duc Hue. Once that was accomplished, Khoi’s armor columns would move north of Duc Hue into the region across the Cambodian border called the Parrot’s Beak. Khoi’s brigade would then execute a right hook deep behind the Communist lines and strike into the PAVN rear. On 27 April, VNAF fighters launched the first blows of the operation, striking targets around Duc Hue. ARVN units quickly blocked the North Vietnamese escape routes north and south of the village. During the night, Khoi’s tankers and Rangers, using boats to float their armor across the Vam Co Dong River, struck west and blasted into Cambodia. Soon they turned south, where they encountered enemy logistics areas. With little room to run, the Communists were quickly routed, and many supply depots were discovered. ARVN casualties were light, while PAVN losses were very high.

The attack was a remarkable combined-arms operation, but it was ARVN’s last true offensive operation of the war. On the North Vietnamese side, Tra’s initial “strategic raid” had failed, and his losses in the 5th Division were high. Yet only one of his main-force units had fought, allowing his other divisions to prepare for new thrusts. Tra could attack different areas at different times, keeping ARVN off balance and bleeding it of supplies when it could ill afford to use them. It was Tra’s best military option.

After the 1973–74 dry season, PAVN’s B-2 Front commanders met to assess the results. Despite the heavy losses, Tra and his boss, Pham Hung, a Politburo member and the COSVN Party secretary, believed the dry season had been a success. In IV Corps, ARVN had been prevented from “stealing” all the rice in the Delta, and many outposts had been overrun. In III Corps, not only had they defeated what they thought was Thieu’s plan to retake the lands seized in the 1972 offensive, but Loc Ninh was never threatened, and ARVN was unable to strengthen its defensive lines around Saigon. Strategically, Tra believed Thieu’s “insane” plan to defend “everywhere” had forced the South Vietnamese into a passive defensive posture, making them unable to respond to concurrent attacks. In his mind, the fighting quality of the ARVN troops had declined; desertions were up and conscription was down. Because of the aid cuts, many aircraft and vehicles were in storage or needed major repairs. At the same time, given the large-scale infiltration of men and material, the fighting strength of Tra’s forces had markedly improved.

That is why Pham Hung concluded it was time to change the normal rhythm of the war. For the first time, he would mount major attacks during the bad-weather period. It would be, he boasted, “a rainy season like no other.” Speaking to the B-2 Front commanders, Hung noted: “In this year’s dry season a new factor had appeared. We are winning victory and ascending while the enemy is weakening and descending. During this year’s rainy season we have many advantages . . . [and] regardless of the weather and the difficulties, we must step up our activities . . . [so that] during the 1975 dry season, we will be capable of creating a new turning point, one of decisive importance. . . . The winning of a decisive victory in 1975–76 . . . is within the purview of Resolution 21. The basis of our decisions was the situation during the recent period, especially during the past four months.”2 It is no coincidence that the last successful South Vietnamese counteroffensive and the time frame Pham Hung identified as the beginning of ARVN’s rapid decline is the same. It was the exact period Murray had forewarned about: the point where the effects of the supply cut-off would hit.

The program for the 1974 rainy season was little changed from the dry-season plan: strategic raids that would target specific locations, along with upgrading the urban movement and the local forces. Tra’s most important task, however, was to strengthen his main-force units to fulfill the 1974–75 dry-season missions. To accomplish that goal, he turned to the General Staff for reinforcements. He had long believed B-2 was the most important theatre in the war, and he had repeatedly clamored for more troops and equipment, to the point where he had developed a reputation at the General Staff for constant carping. As usual the General Staff denied his request for several strategic-reserve divisions.

To compensate, Tra “decided to form one light division for each of our military regions by combining the independent regiments, providing them with additional combat support elements, and organizing a division headquarters staff. . . . MR-7 [the area encompassing most of III Corps] had only two independent regiments . . . which were combined to form the 6th Division (minus).”3 Similar but full strength divisions—the 8th and 4th—were created in MR-8 and MR-9. Tra also decided to combine the 7th and 9th Divisions, his two best units, into the 4th Corps. Initially called Group 301, it was commanded by Major General Hoang Cam.4

Tra began his rainy-season attacks on 16 May with an assault by the 9th Division. This thrust was as difficult a battle as any during the war. The 9th, behind a large artillery barrage, attacked villages in the infamous “Iron Triangle,” a long-fought-over piece of territory. Almost all of the fighting occurred along Route 7, the main road that crossed the northern side of the triangle. The Saigon and Thi Thinh Rivers formed the borders for the west and east sides respectively. Route 7 ran from the village of Rach Bap on the western side to the village of Ben Cat. The key to Ben Cat was the bridge on Route 7 over the Thi Thinh River.

Two infantry regiments of the 9th Division, backed by armor and artillery fire, attacked on the morning of 16 May. One regiment quickly took Rach Bap, and continued east along Route 7 to the next village, An Dien, where ARVN Regional Forces held out for thirty-six hours before retreating to Ben Cat. The North Vietnamese followed quickly, but the RF held Ben Cat and the critical bridge, preventing PAVN from seizing the crossing. Since the days of large-scale helicopter insertions were gone, without the bridge ARVN would have no easy route back in to recapture the lost ground. Realizing the situation, ARVN hurriedly sent some Rangers and engineers to secure the bridge. But instead of continuing to attack, the 9th halted its advance and dug in at An Dien. It brought in dozens of anti-aircraft and artillery guns, built bunkers and minefields, and dared ARVN to come push it out.

Rising to the challenge, the ARVN III Corps commander ordered the 18th Division, under Brigadier General Le Minh Dao, to kick PAVN out of the Iron Triangle. Le Minh Dao had been given command of the 18th Division in March 1972. In November 1972 he was promoted to brigadier general, and he remained in charge of the division until the end. Dao was a fiery leader, a man bristling with energy. Unlike many senior ARVN officers who stayed in their command posts and issued orders on the radio, Dao moved among his men during battle. He believed that the trust of his men must be earned, and he asked his officers to maintain contact with their subordinates at least “two levels down,” and to “ask them their problems.”5 This was a radical approach for the status-conscious South Vietnamese officer corps, but as a result, Dao’s soldiers rewarded him with their loyalty and admiration. Dao’s effort to create a bond between his troops and his officers was so successful that the 18th quickly became, according to Le Gro, “the most effective ARVN unit” in III Corps.6

Dao launched the assault to recapture An Dien on 1 June with two regiments. Both quickly ran into well-entrenched Communist forces that refused to retreat. Artillery rained down on his advancing soldiers, who had to clear extensive bunkers and minefields. The PAVN 9th Division counterattacked with infantry and ten tanks. ARVN forces knocked out four of them, and threw back the infantry in hand-to-hand combat. After the attack, Dao’s combat engineers, working at night with flashlights, removed forty anti-tank mines from Route 7.

The battle raged on for two more days. Finally, Dao committed his last regiment, and the Communists slowly began to give ground. By 5 June, he was in control of An Dien, but casualties had been high on both sides. Captured prisoners from the PAVN regiment holding An Dien reported that whole companies in some battalions had been wiped out.

With An Dien now secure, Dao could concentrate on taking the next objective on Route 7, an RF outpost called Base 82. Dao brought in the 3rd Armored Cavalry, and planned to attack from several directions. The North Vietnamese, however, were not retreating. The thick brush and rough terrain around Base 82 gave the defenders a distinct advantage, and the 9th Division intended to hold it. Gathering the remnants of the units that had fought at An Dien, the 9th resupplied them with troops newly arrived from North Vietnam and committed its third regiment. Engineers laid more mines, ammunition was stockpiled, and the artillery registered kill zones. After completing their preparations, the PAVN forces waited in their bunkers to avenge their losses at An Dien.

Khoi attacked on 7 June, but the assault stalled when his tankers ran into the teeth of the defenses. The interlocking bunkers, the minefields, the heavy anti-tank fire, and the difficult terrain prevented Khoi from making much headway. Dao was forced to commit his unit’s men, who were worn down from the earlier fighting. With mortar ammunition and hand grenades tightly rationed, the 18th Division soldiers had to push the enemy out of prepared defensive positions the hard way, using carefully timed small-unit maneuvers that often resulted in hand-to-hand combat. Despite their excellent close-quarter combat drills, the 18th’s attacks were resulting in heavy casualties. Dao’s units suffered 275 men killed and one thousand wounded, which amounted to a 25 percent loss for his infantry battalions, a high ratio for any battle.

Meanwhile, the heavy anti-aircraft artillery and bad weather made air strikes ineffective, forcing III Corps to use thousands of artillery shells. But with the aid cuts, the South Vietnamese could not afford to use ammunition at that rate, a situation U.S. forces in South Vietnam had never faced. With the Iron Triangle battle draining III Corps ammunition stocks, and given the aid reductions plus the dramatic price increase for artillery shells, General Vien realized he had no choice. He ordered an immediate cut in artillery fire. The III Corps commander, Lieutenant General Pham Quoc Thuan, promptly visited Generals Vien and Khuyen to beg for more artillery ammunition. Thuan asked for 150,000 more shells. He was given 45,000. Here was Murray’s “trading blood for ammo.” PAVN artillery, on the other hand, continued to blast away. When ARVN troops observed enemy trucks bringing in supplies directly to the front lines, an event that would have been unheard of even in 1973, morale in the 18th Division sagged. With the attack bogged down, the troops exhausted by a month of fighting in bad weather, and newly rationed artillery and limited air support, the III Corps commander ordered a halt to retaking Base 82. Dao’s troops were pulled out and replaced by the ARVN 5th Division.

The situation remained quiet for the rest of the summer, but in early September the ARVN 5th Division resumed the attack and retook Base 82. By November, the rest of the Iron Triangle was back in South Vietnamese hands. By committing the fresh division, the South Vietnamese were able to nullify all of Tra’s gains, and the PAVN 9th Division was badly mauled. As a fighting unit, it would not see action again until March 1975. Le Duan reacted with dismay upon learning of the setback, and the losses directly affected the General Staff’s 1975 plan for the B-2 Front.

Yet despite the failure to conquer any territory and the heavy losses in the 9th Division, both Pham Hung and Tra believed that their rainy-season offensive had been successful. The combination of heavy attacks and aid cuts had worn down the South Vietnamese military, making them increasingly unable to respond to multiple attacks. South Vietnamese firepower had diminished, and the territorial forces seemed feebler than before. Tra and Hung’s conclusion was that it was time to go for the kill. They would launch an even larger offensive in the dry season, but this time with bigger forces simultaneously attacking multiple objectives against a rapidly weakening Republic of Vietnam.

HANOI’S VIEW

The aid cuts were only one reason for the Communists’ conclusion that the time to strike had come. Nixon’s resignation in early August 1974 removed a major restraint on Communist strategy. Nixon, with his unpredictable penchant for releasing the bombers, was perhaps the only Western leader feared by the Communists. The Politburo welcomed his resignation with undisguised delight. In its Weltanschauung, Nixon’s fall was a direct result of America’s defeat in Vietnam, which was feeding a growing revolutionary movement around the world against the United States. Both Le Duan and Truong Chinh viewed the Vietnam conflict within a “big-power” international context, and their analysis was highly slanted by Marxist-Leninist ideology. Le Duan fervently believed his country was the vanguard in a worldwide struggle for national liberation, and he ascribed to Vietnam an importance far beyond its nominal weight in the world.

Shortly after Nixon’s resignation, Truong Chinh analyzed the situation in precisely that framework: “Nixon’s resignation . . . is an important political event that signals the weakness and defeat of American imperialists. . . . Nixon was not forced to resign . . . solely because of the crimes committed in the Watergate affair. . . . Watergate . . . set off an explosion of the U.S.’s social contradictions and the internal contradictions within the American monopoly capitalist class. In fact, the primary cause of these contradictions is the U.S. war of aggression in Vietnam. . . . For that reason, we can see that the deep, real reason for Nixon’s forced resignation was the heavy defeat the U.S. suffered in Vietnam, while the direct, ulterior reason was Watergate. In order to exacerbate the contradictions, to add to the difficulties of the Americans, and to win victory for our people, we must implement the following measures: We must launch a continuous and wide-ranging propaganda campaign aimed at both domestic [Vietnamese] and world opinion. . . . We must link the corruption, the rottenness, the failures, and the stagnation of the Nixon government to [the] Thieu government. We need to form a broad-based front against Thieu, a front that demands that Thieu be thrown out, that supports . . . the Paris Agreement, that frees the political prisoners, and that implements peace and national reconciliation.”7

As if reading Truong Chinh’s mind, on the exact same day, the U.S. Embassy in Saigon sent a rocket of a cable to Kissinger, bitterly denouncing the FY75 congressional aid reductions. Predicting that the reduction of military aid would not bring peace, but would only encourage the Communists, Deputy Ambassador Wolfgang Lehmann (Martin was in the U.S.) wrote:

Apart from the practical effects [of the aid cutback] the worst damage of a reduction in military assistance . . . by the House vote would be the political and psychological. We are at a crucial point in the long drawn out process of decision-making in Hanoi. It is evident that Hanoi has been disappointed [that] after the withdrawal of American forces and advisers South Vietnam [did not] fall into its hands. After all, in Hanoi’s view it was a colonialist war . . . therefore, Hanoi has been in a dilemma. Faced not only with disappointment of their hopes in the South but with serious economic problems at home and limitation on their ability to obtain support from China and the Soviet Union, they obviously had problems in deciding what to do next [and] the balance between the two priorities of reunification and reconstruction remains extremely delicate. According to recent intelligence, should the North Vietnamese conclude that the U.S. is disengaging politically from the South, they would suspend serious economic planning [and move] militarily against South Vietnam at some opportune moment. Some intelligence sources indicate that the Communists are anticipating a ‘decisive’ political or military breakthrough as early as the spring of 1975 when the GVN’s equipment and material shortages could be most severe if there is no additional US assistance. Hanoi’s long and short-term intentions thus hinge critically on its current estimates . . . of U.S. commitments. . . . We believe that a reduction . . . by over 50 percent of the [aid] request will tip the balance in Hanoi irrevocably in favor of a decision for the military option. There is no doubt the South Vietnamese will not quit but will fight . . . the result will be more war rather than less, more suffering rather than less, and further postponement of an acceptable political solution rather than the reverse.8

As prophecy, it was near perfect, but like most predictions, it was ignored. There was no response to Lehmann’s cable.

A NEW PRESIDENT

On 9 August 1974, Gerald R. Ford took the presidential oath, stepping in for the disgraced Richard Nixon. Ford had replaced Spiro Agnew as vice president on 6 December 1973, after Agnew resigned following charges of tax evasion. Although Ford had been a member of the House of Representatives since 1949, he was essentially an unknown quantity to most Americans. Having achieved the pinnacle of American power under extraordinary circumstances, he entered the Oval Office at a time when his countrymen were profoundly disillusioned by the Watergate scandal and distressed over seemingly intractable economic issues. During his inaugural address to the nation, he tried to set a tone of reconciliation and hope, telling Americans that “our long national nightmare is over.” In September, Ford pardoned Nixon, hoping to move beyond the rancor. His action, seen through Watergate-tinged eyes as politically motivated, unfortunately punctured the public’s initial goodwill toward him.

Ford remained committed to Nixon’s “Peace with Honor” program in Vietnam, but he knew he possessed limited ability to influence events in that country. Ford faced a recalcitrant Congress and a stagnant economy. Inflation hit almost 11 percent in September 1974, exacerbated by the OPEC oil embargo. Higher oil costs had an acute effect on U.S. markets, contributing not only to soaring prices but also to burgeoning unemployment. Most Americans were deeply concerned about the economy, and events in faraway Vietnam were viewed with a collective hope that they would quietly disappear. If it took political courage to pardon Nixon, it would take even more to tackle Vietnam. Yet Ford did not shy away from the challenge. He was determined to defend America’s long-time ally, and he quickly confirmed U.S. backing for South Vietnam as a priority for his new administration.

On 10 August, Ford sent a letter to Thieu: “the existing commitments this nation has made in the past are still valid and will be fully honored in my administration.”9 Ford also lauded Thieu for his efforts to utilize U.S. aid properly. Lastly, he told him that while “our legislative process is . . . not yet completed . . . I do want to reassure you . . . that in the end our support will be adequate.” He reinforced those comments in an address to a joint session of Congress on 12 August, pledging to support American allies in Indochina while demanding the observance of the ceasefire in South Vietnam.

While the letter to Thieu was one of several Ford signed that day reassuring allies, for an embattled Nguyen Van Thieu, these were magical words. Because of the aid cuts, Thieu had begun toying with the idea of reducing the territory held by the GVN to an area encompassing III and IV Corps. Major General Murray’s charts and Khuyen’s visit had unsettled him, and in the early summer he had asked his economic team to draft a study on the impact of retrenchment. It could be accomplished, his team advised him, but the problems would be enormous: resettling several million refugees, not to mention the tremendous loss of political face resulting from a retreat from Hue and Danang. Given those difficulties, with Ford’s letter and assurances that the $300 million would be restored, Thieu shelved the idea.

When Murray reached Honolulu after departing Vietnam, he met with Admiral Noel Gayler, commander of U.S. forces in the Pacific, for an end of-tour debriefing. In discussing Ford’s letter, Gayler claimed it did not promise anything specific. Murray disagreed, pointing out that it was being “interpreted for the Vietnamese by our Embassy in Saigon as a promise of support for what they needed. . . . But the statement was wrong, what they were getting was inadequate—a starvation diet.”10 Once more Murray was confronted “with a basic contradiction between the guidance the Embassy was giving the Saigon government and what I was getting from [Secretary of Defense James R. Schlesinger] to give to the RVNAF. The Embassy was saying the support was going to be in accordance with Ford’s letter . . . and [Schlesinger] was telling me that we must prepare for the $700 million ceiling.” This amount would cover only 45 percent of South Vietnam’s overall needs, needs calculated on the assumption that there would not be another major offensive, let alone the necessity of replacing equipment. The end result was that Thieu was being lured into a false complacency regarding more aid. Ultimately, Murray warned, “without proper support, the RVNAF are going to lose, maybe not next week, or next month, but after the year they are going to.”

Into this quagmire stepped Murray’s replacement. On 5 September Major General Homer D. Smith, U.S. Army, arrived in Saigon. A career ordnance officer, Smith was a highly regarded logistician. He cut short his honeymoon to arrive in South Vietnam early, knowing he was walking into a maelstrom. Before Murray left, the DAO staff had worked closely with the JGS to apportion the $1 billion in aid they believed the RVNAF was going to receive. Following normal financial procedure, DAO had broken out one-fourth of the money for each quarter. The $250 million for Q1 was quickly spent to fund contractors and purchase long-lead-time items like fuel and ammunition, leaving little for other important items like bandages. But when the $700 million figure was announced, the Q2 monies were reduced to $119 million. Given the continuing high demand for ammunition, little was left from the $119 million for spare parts or other necessities.

The impact was severe. In mid-October 1974, General Vien restricted major army operations to only two at a time for no more than ten days apiece each month. Thus each corps could carry out only one ten-day operation per month. The limiting factors, according to Vien, were “air support and artillery ammunition.”11 The Navy was forced to demobilize over a dozen riverine units, greatly weakening security in the Delta. The Air Force fared no better. Although the VNAF had managed to keep its “Operational Ready” rate fairly stable until mid-October 1974, it had achieved this by drawing down stocks and putting hundreds of older planes into storage. The DAO hoped to return some of the older aircraft for credit, with the funds then being re-programmed to buy parts and fuel. However, the new Defense Authorization Vietnam bill precluded any credits. It also placed an absolute ceiling on all security assistance to the GVN and barred any other funds from supporting Saigon. In summary, as Smith later wrote, “crippling limitations were imposed on . . . firepower and mobility. . . . All of this had a debilitating effect on morale and gave strong encouragement to the enemy.”12

The JGS analysis of the $700 million aid level was also exceedingly grim. General Vien reported to President Thieu that “only 40% of the RVNAF operational and maintenance requirements [will be] filled. The RVNAF will not be able to defend against the Communists, who are better equipped and better supplied since the Paris Agreement. The Communists are ready, they only wait for the suitable opportunity. There will be additional loss of land and population.13 (Emphasis in the original.) Badly shaken, Thieu immediately replied to Ford’s letter. When he received no response, in mid-September he wrote a second letter and dispatched Foreign Minister Vuong Van Bac to Washington to deliver it personally.

Thieu’s new letter was pleading in tone. Peace prospects, he told Ford, were “bleaker than ever,” and the “main cause” for the increasing Communist threat was the “utterly inadequate amount of military and economic aid.” Thieu reminded Ford that he “had signed the Paris Agreement in good faith, under the double assurances that . . . Russia and China will exercise a restraining influence upon Hanoi and . . . all necessary military equipment and economic assistance will be provided by the United States to [enable the GVN] to maintain its self-defense and to develop its economy. The first assumption turned out to be an empty promise. . . . But I am convinced that thanks to your generous efforts, the second assumption will be borne out.”14 Thieu ended by asking for a meeting with Ford and a public statement “restating our common goals.”

While Ford declined a meeting with Thieu, behind the scenes the administration was already lobbying key senators to approve a supplemental-aid request for the missing $300 million. Often, administration budget requests are cut by congressional committees, which siphon off the funds for their own programs. To compensate, later in the year a supplemental funding request is put forward to restore the administration’s original budget. Congress grants the supplemental, and the complete funding is restored. Ford, having served in Congress for many years, was well aware of how the game was played.

On 12 September, in a private meeting with senior congressional leaders and Kissinger, Ford noted the U.S. faced “a number of difficult problems” around the world. Ford wanted Congress to refrain from passing restrictive legislation, particularly on Indochina. “We must assure,” Ford said, that “Vietnam is not destroyed through lack of funding.” Kissinger then outlined the various world crises, and said of Vietnam: “If we bug out, it would affect our whole foreign policy and the reliance countries place on us.”15

Unfortunately, with congressional elections coming up in November, re-opening the funding debate now was impossible. One senator at the meeting commented that “I have never seen the Vietnam aid debate more acrimonious. This is an election year. . . . To talk two months before elections about more aid . . . is dreaming. Try to hold the line and come back after the elections,” which meant delaying a discussion until the new Congress convened in January 1975. While some senators agreed that Ford should get other supplemental funding he had requested, particularly for the Middle East and the Greece-Turkey dispute over Cyprus, these were draining foreign-aid funds that otherwise might have supported Indochina. With a bad economy, Congress was reluctant to spend money on overseas problems.

On 13 September, Ford and Kissinger met with Ambassador Martin to discuss the previous day’s congressional meeting. Kissinger remarked that “It is inconceivable we can spend $1 billion in Israel and not in Vietnam where so many Americans have died. . . . Vietnam is enormously important in the international perception of the United States.”16 Martin, who was preparing to return to South Vietnam, told the president that the current amount of $700 million in military aid would only enable Saigon to hold out through the winter. It would need the other $300 million before the end of the fiscal year on 30 June 1975. But Martin did not feel the situation was doomed: “If I thought [it] was hopeless, I would tell you. We can make it. But if North Vietnam sees the loosening of support it will change their perceptions.” Ford directed Martin to tell Thieu of his admiration, and that he would fight for the additional money.

Martin returned to Vietnam and conveyed exactly that message, but just as Murray had predicted, Thieu could only wait helplessly for the Americans to supply the aid he so desperately needed for his country’s survival.

LE DUAN DECIDES ON WAR

Sitting in the house at the beach resort of Do Son on 21 July, as the late afternoon sun filled the room, Generals Hoang Van Thai and Le Trong Tan briefed Le Duan. Tan outlined the improvements in PAVN since the beginning of the year, while Thai told Le Duan that PAVN forces had regained the initiative on the Southern battlefield. They had, Thai said, “won victories and were developing in an upward direction, while the enemy . . . was on a downward slide.”17

Le Duan agreed that the South Vietnamese were very weak, and, just as important, he thought that the U.S. was also in serious political and economic disarray. He further asserted that the U.S. was now “colluding” with China, permitting China to gain influence in Southeast Asia in exchange for Chinese pressure on Hanoi to halt its attacks. Le Duan added that China and Japan would soon begin to “interfere” in Southeast Asian matters, citing the Chinese invasion of the Paracels Islands as a prime example. However, since America and South Vietnam were currently weak, and China and Japan were not yet ready to act, Hanoi had a small window of opportunity to win the war. It must act immediately to take advantage of this situation, or the Politburo’s goal of unification would become extremely difficult to achieve.

The Politburo’s own internal study of the war (completed in 1995) supports Le Duan’s theories: “If we had waited and taken action later, the situation might have become very complicated and dangerous, in ways that no one could fully foresee. We quickly took the initiative and actively made strategic preparations, both in terms of our posture and of our forces and in both North and South Vietnam beginning in early 1973, and we skillfully coordinated our preparations with diplomatic offensives designed to win over world public opinion and to deceive and trick the enemy, thereby creating the greatest possible force and the most advantageous posture possible for our entire army and our entire population as we began the final decisive strategic battle.”18

In essence, Le Duan’s analysis represented a combination of Hanoi’s rationales for launching its 1968 and 1972 offensives. In 1968, the Politburo decided to unleash a massive surprise attack because the war was not going well, and it needed to do something drastic to change the situation. In 1972, part of the motivation for Hanoi’s attack was that it saw ARVN as very weak because of the U.S. troop withdrawal. Both these lines of reasoning surfaced again in Le Duan’s thinking: the need to do something drastic combined with a badly weakened enemy.

Consequently, Le Duan ordered Thai to draft a “strategic plan in such a way as to create a strategic opportunity, and be prepared to immediately exploit that strategic opportunity.”19 For Le Duan, the strategic opportunity would be a sudden turn of events where Hanoi might “win victory earlier, before those countries were prepared to intervene. . . . China feared that if we won and became stronger it would impede its advance into Southeast Asia. . . . Therefore, when those countries were not yet able to carry out their ugly designs, the matter of creating, and taking advantage of, an opportunity to win complete victory was becoming increasingly urgent. When the South was liberated, and our fifty million people were united, those countries would no longer be capable of carrying out their designs on Indochina.”

Le Duan’s instructions to Thai were direct. In 1975, PAVN had to eliminate large numbers of ARVN troops to prepare for an offensive in 1976 that would achieve victory. The initial attack had to surprise the South Vietnamese, stunning them and causing a collapse so the North could win the war in the next two years.

Energized by Le Duan’s command, on 26 August the Central Cell completed the seventh draft of the plan to conquer South Vietnam. The plan would have two stages: 1975 would be Stage One, a surprise attack to weaken the enemy, followed by Stage Two in 1976, when total victory would be achieved. The Cell members realized that PAVN did not have the resources to mount the kind of massive attacks they had employed in 1972, nor did Giap want a frontal assault on the cities similar to Tet ‘68. By necessity, their plan would have to be a compromise. Communist local units and the urban political base remained very weak, and PAVN faced significant shortages of heavy-artillery ammunition and armor.

Phase One of Stage One was a limited offensive in the B-2 Front that would last from December 1974 to February 1975. Phase Two, the heart of the 1975 campaign, would begin in March. A multi-divisional assault would target the village of Duc Lap in Quang Duc province in the southern portion of the Central Highlands.

Why the Central Highlands? Quite simply, it was the weakest point in South Vietnam’s defenses. I Corps in the north and III Corps around Saigon were heavily defended, the GVN strategy called “strong at two ends.” In the vast forests and mountains of the interior, ARVN forces were concentrated around the northern section, defending the main cities of Kontum and Pleiku. Moreover, capturing the southern part of the Highlands would enable PAVN to connect the B-3 Front (western Central Highlands) with the B-2 Front, providing easier supply lines and linking up the “liberated” areas. Phase Two would be supported by diversionary operations in III Corps, the lowlands of central Vietnam, and the northern portion of I Corps. Phase Three, August–October 1975, would consist of further attacks in central Vietnam and I Corps.

It was, in essence, a larger version of the 1973–74 dry-season attacks, and it was a countrywide offensive—just not a complete offensive. The goals for 1975 were: “destroy a significant portion of ARVN’s total troop strength; defeat the pacification program; extend PAVN’s logistics and supply network from Route 14 all the way to the Mekong Delta; cripple the South Vietnamese economy; and incite political opposition to the South Vietnamese government. These goals had the same purpose: wear down South Vietnamese resistance and create conditions for the appearance of a ‘strategic opportunity.’”20

Giap viewed the future showdown as inexorably leading to one of two results: a triumph either from military success, or from a coalition government. A political arrangement would entail overthrowing Thieu to form a short-lived, three-component transitional government. Despite the persistent calls from the anti-war advocates in the U.S. and elsewhere to “give peace a chance,” the North Vietnamese held no illusions regarding a coalition government including the so-called Third Force. It was merely a stepping-stone to victory.

The Politburo met on 30 September to hear the latest strategic plan. Maps and charts covered the walls of the conference room as Hoang Van Thai and Le Trong Tan briefed the Politburo. Thai provided a balanced overview. He reported that opposition to Thieu had recently risen, that South Vietnam’s economic difficulties were clearly affecting troop morale, and that the RVNAF was badly weakened by the aid cuts. Despite those factors, the South Vietnamese military remained powerful, and its governing apparatus dominated the areas it held. Moreover, while PAVN forces had grown remarkably, they still had many problems to overcome. Those included a lack of artillery ammunition, inability to fight effectively in combined-arms operations, and too few local troops or urban cells. Regarding Le Duan’s strategic opportunity, Thai anticipated that one might arise during Phase Two or Three of the first stage.

While the members of the Politburo agreed on the overall attack concept, including launching the main blow against Duc Lap, the major unanswered question was simple: Would the Americans send troops back in if Saigon was in danger of falling? They agreed the U.S. would not, but air and naval bombardment was still a danger. The group remained wary and deeply fearful of the American bombers. Before making a final decision, they wanted additional time to study the plan. The Politburo decided to hold an expanded meeting in December that would include the commanders from the Southern battlefields. Regardless, orders went out to the various fronts in South Vietnam to start preparing on the basis of the new plan.

Le Duan ended the conference with a speech summarizing the Politburo’s thinking:

Our Politburo is unanimously determined to achieve the people’s democratic revolution in the South. [Even though] the Americans had to pull out because they were defeated, we knew that the U.S. still had . . . many wicked schemes. . . . The collusion between the U.S. and China has rendered our war of resistance more complicated. . . . For us, the importance of the Paris Agreement does not lie in the admission that there are two . . . areas of control [or] the formation of a three-faction government, but in the fact that the U.S. troops have to pull out while our forces can stay on. . . . Our intention was to maintain the status quo of our strength and position in the South and later proceed to attack the enemy. . . . Now the opportune moment is coming. Before taking this strategic decision, the crucial point we considered was whether the Americans would return to South Vietnam . . . we guessed that the Americans were not in a position to come back. But . . . even if the Americans interfered again . . . they could not turn the tables and we would win. The matter that gave us food for thought was how to fight and win in the best way. . . . [After the Paris Agreements] the puppets gained the initiative on the battlefields. This was due to our mistakes [but] wherever we . . . made appropriate attacks, not only did we remain strong, but our position and strength doubled. . . . Our main task now is to topple the [Thieu] regime. . . . From now on preparations should be made with a sense of urgency, thus creating the basis for a powerful offensive to win complete victory in 1975 and 1976.21 [Emphasis in the original.]

The effects were immediate. On 8 October, Hanoi broadcast a statement that the Provisional Revolutionary Government would no longer negotiate with Nguyen Van Thieu. It called on all elements to work in concert to overthrow Thieu and “implement the Paris Agreement,” the code-phrase for a coalition government. It was a dramatic political offer: a solution to the South Vietnam problem through negotiations, but only if Thieu was removed.

Le Duan’s July meeting, followed by the October conference, was a major turning point in the war. Nixon’s resignation, the deep aid cuts, the sense that America was consumed with internal woes and that Hanoi’s own strength had considerably grown—all these had coalesced at precisely the wrong time for South Vietnam. While the North Vietnamese had always viewed U.S./GVN strengths and weaknesses through a prism of ideology and wishful thinking, this time they were right. South Vietnam was exhausted, Thieu was facing opposition to his rule, the economy was crumbling, food production had dropped sharply because of the fighting, the piaster was nearly worthless, and morale was low. The slide down Murray’s “slippery slope” was gathering speed.

If you find an error or have any questions, please email us at admin@erenow.org. Thank you!