Authors: Terence T. Finn
Tags: #History, #Asia, #Afghanistan, #Military, #United States, #eBook
Nearly half the missions flown in Korea were for the purpose of interdiction. This meant the disruption and destruction of enemy supplies and troops well behind the battle line. Having just gained independence from the army, the air force had little interest in focusing on close air support. As strategic bombing targets were limited, the air force concentrated on interdicting the flow of men and matériel. In this, it achieved considerable success. Yet, given the manpower available to the North Koreans and the Chinese, as well as their willingness to accept casualties, interdiction did not achieve its goal of collapsing the enemy’s ability to wage war.
Where the air force performed extremely well was in air-to-air combat against Russian-built MiG-15 fighters. The MiGs were first-rate aircraft. Against them, America’s best fighter, the F-86 Sabre, nevertheless excelled. Sabre pilots claimed the destruction of 792 MiGs, a number now generally accepted as too high. But only seventy-eight Sabres were shot down by MiGs. Success of the F-86s was due largely to their pilots, who were experienced and well trained. Sound tactics and a superior gunsight made the difference as well. Most of the time, MiG pilots were outmatched. A few did well, particularly a number of Russians, but the majority of those who flew from Antung and the other bases in Manchuria crossed the Yalu at their peril. When, in July 1953, an armistice was signed at Panmunjom, one fact was indisputable: above North Korea Sabres owned the sky.
What, other than the invasion in June 1950 by the North Koreans, were the key turning points of the Korean War?
There were several. The first was Walton Walker’s successful defense of the Pusan Perimeter. This meant that Kim Il Sung’s army did not achieve its goal of unifying Korea.
The second turning point was MacArthur’s successful landing at Inchon. This led to the defeat of the North Koreans and, as important, boosted the morale of the American army and of the American public, neither of whom had much to cheer about as U.S. soldiers retreated down the peninsula.
The next turning point, one of the most significant in the entire conflict, was the move north by the Americans across the 38th parallel. For the United States, this military operation changed the purpose of the war, from repulsing the North Koreans’ invasion, to eliminating the regime of Kim Il Sung. Crossing the parallel into North Korea also meant that the Chinese would enter the conflict, thereby changing the nature and outcome of the war.
The Chinese attack of November 1950 constituted the fourth turning point. Chinese involvement led to the defeat in battle of an American army. Their involvement also meant that the U.S. would not unify the peninsula under the rule of Syngman Rhee. Moreover, it ensured that the war would not be limited in duration or in casualties.
The fifth turning point was the dismissal of General MacArthur. The general had overstepped the boundaries of U.S. military field commanders. So Truman’s action was entirely appropriate. Nonetheless, MacArthur’s removal was a shock to the American political system and a reminder to the American military that in the United States, generals (and admirals) do not outrank presidents.
The final turning point of the Korean War was the arrival in Korea of Lieutenant General Matthew Ridgway as commander of all ground forces. Ridgway took a dispirited American army and transformed it into an effective combat organization. Under his leadership, the Americans stopped several Chinese offensives, depriving them of control over the entire peninsula, but also advanced north against the Chinese, thus establishing what would become the Demilitarized Zone, close to where the conflict had started, at the 38th Parallel. Rarely has an American commander done a better or more important job. Little wonder then that Matthew Ridgway ranks as one of the country’s most capable military leaders.
9
VIETNAM
1965–1975
What makes the war in Vietnam unique in American history is its outcome. For no one can doubt that the United States lost the war. Defeat, not victory, was the end result. And the cost was extremely high—thousands of Americans slain and millions of dollars wasted. For the first time, the field of battle belonged to the enemy. The United States had been vanquished, and decisively so.
***
Much of the responsibility for the debacle of Vietnam rests with Lyndon B. Johnson (LBJ). As president, he directed the American war effort. And when he was in the White House, never far from his mind were the Chinese, whom Johnson was determined to avoid engaging in battle. He remembered that in 1950, when U.S. troops in Korea approached the Yalu River, China had sent wave after wave of its soldiers into battle, crushing an American army. Fifteen years later, in 1965, Johnson did not want to see Chinese troops in Vietnam, a country in which America was fighting a Communist regime based in Hanoi. Nor did he want a war with China itself. The president thus conducted the war in Vietnam with restraint. From 1965 until 1968 the United States did not unleash its military. Indeed, America limited its approach to battle, applying its firepower gradually. This, it was hoped, would keep Chinese troops at home. It also was intended to restrain the Soviet Union. And too it demonstrated to friends of the United States, particularly the Europeans, that America was reasonable when committing its military to combat.
In Vietnam, Lyndon Johnson most certainly did not want to ignite a world war, a conflict that might well occur were China and the United States to do battle with each other. And significantly the President did not wish to jeopardize his Great Society program. This was an ambitious agenda of legislative initiatives, including a major expansion of health care, that surely would fail were the U.S. at war with China.
Hence LBJ conducted the war cautiously, holding back the admirals and generals who wished to overwhelm the North Vietnamese. These commanders wanted to employ the full might of America’s superb army, navy, and air force. They believed that if young Americans were to die in Vietnam, the least their leaders could do was to achieve victory. But Johnson held these commanders at bay. The United States would fight in Vietnam, but not so as to obliterate the enemy in the north.
Why then did the United States fight at all? If the objective was not to destroy the North Vietnamese regime, if at all costs the Chinese (and Russians) were to be kept out of the battle, and if American military leaders were to be held in check, why send troops to Vietnam? After all, according to many experts, America’s national security was not at stake in Vietnam. Whatever happened there was unlikely to harm the United States.
The answer is twofold. One reason is that, at the time, the principal focus of U.S. foreign policy was the containment of Communism. As leader of the Free World, the United States was committed to holding back the spread of a ruthless political ideology. Whether Republican or Democrat, America’s leaders believed their job was to halt the spread of Communism. So Lyndon Johnson, as well as his predecessor in the White House, John F. Kennedy, dispatched American servicemen to South Vietnam. The two presidents saw in this small country the necessity of standing firm against the beliefs espoused by Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin.
A second reason for U.S. troops being sent to Vietnam stemmed from American domestic politics. As a Democrat, LBJ remembered how years earlier the Republicans in Washington had savaged the Democrats for “losing” China. That China fell to the Communists in 1949 was interpreted as a catastrophic failure on the part of Harry S. Truman and his fellow Democrats. In fact, China’s American-backed regime gave way to Mao Tse-tung because China’s then leader, Chiang Kai-shek, was incompetent. Facts, however, played little part in the partisan warfare then prevalent in the American capital. The Republicans blamed the Democrats for Chiang’s defeat. In so doing, they scored political points and were able to defeat the Democrats in the 1952 elections. Lyndon Johnson vowed he never would be tarred with such a brush. So he went to war in 1965. Johnson was determined not to be the president who lost South Vietnam.
***
America’s involvement in Vietnam did not begin with Lyndon Johnson or John Kennedy. It began much earlier, soon after the end of the Second World War. In 1946 the French returned to Indochina, the geographic term employed to describe what is now the countries of Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam. These had been French colonies, and officials in Paris were eager to reclaim them.
However, many Vietnamese took exception to French rule, particularly Ho Chi Minh, leader of the Vietnamese Communists. Ho and his comrades decided to contest French control of Vietnam. There ensued an eight-year war in which Paris attempted to put down the insurrection. In this the French were aided by the Americans, who, anxious to halt the advance of Communism, financed the effort and supplied large amounts of military equipment. The conflict came to an end in May 1954, when the Vietnamese overwhelmed the French fortress of Dien Bien Phu.
The French army’s defeat led to negotiations in Geneva at which the French government agreed to withdraw from Indochina. Laos and Cambodia were declared independent, neutral nations. Vietnam was divided into two parts, separated at the 17th Parallel by a demilitarized zone (DMZ). Each part had its own government. To the north, based in Hanoi, was the government of Ho Chi Minh. South of the DMZ, in what came to be called the Republic of South Vietnam, was a pro-Western government. This soon was run by an ardent anti-Communist, Ngo Dinh Diem. In two years, so the Geneva Accords stated, an election would be held across all of Vietnam. The winner would rule a single, united nation.
The election never took place. Diem knew the outcome would favor Ho Chi Minh, if only because the population of the north outnumbered that of the south. Ho himself violated several provisions of the agreement, and before long, the two sides were at war. Throughout the conflict, Vietnamese from the north would infiltrate villages and towns in the south. Ho and his comrades hailed these men as liberators. Others did not, especially because their tools of persuasion included terror, extortion, and murder.
In support of Diem, President Dwight D. Eisenhower provided military assistance to counter the growing Communist threat. This assistance included U.S. Army advisors. Their role was to train the South Vietnamese army (known to the Americans by its acronym ARVN, which was pronounced “R-VIN,” and stood for Army of the Republic of Vietnam). President Kennedy significantly increased the number of advisors, so that by the end of 1963 some sixteen thousand American soldiers were teaching Diem’s troops how to fight. General Earle Wheeler, who in 1963 was the army’s chief of staff, called the advisors “the steel reinforcing rods in concrete.”
The steel was strong, the concrete less so. In battle, ARVN troops often did poorly. Primarily, they suffered from the absence of capable senior commanders. Diem wanted generals who, above all, were loyal to him. He viewed talented generals as a political threat. Moreover, the good commanders were willing to fight, and this caused casualties, which added to Diem’s problems. Shortcomings of the South Vietnamese army were revealed in January 1963 when, near the village of Ap Bac, ARVN troops were routed by the enemy.
Yet the problems for Diem and his American allies were deeper than the South Vietnamese army. The problem was South Vietnam itself. The country lacked political cohesion. It enjoyed no tradition of democracy or of central government. Its population was fragmented: different groups—the Buddhists, the merchants, the army, and the Catholics (who, though a minority, exercised great influence)—were loyal primarily to themselves. They felt little obligation to the state and seemed to thrive on corruption and self-interest. How Diem or anyone else could rule such a land was a question not easily answered.
The battle of Ap Bac revealed another problem that would make difficult the U.S. Army’s campaign in Vietnam. Despite the negative outcome of the fight at Ap Bac, U.S. commanders in Saigon, the capital of South Vietnam (renamed Ho Chi Minh City early in 1975), insisted the battle had been a victory for the ARVN. American media representatives knew better. They challenged the commanders who, echoing the party line that the South Vietnamese troops were improving and had carried the day, refused to acknowledge the truth. And so began the skepticism on the part of U.S. journalists covering the war toward pronouncements emanating from the American army. As the war progressed, the skepticism would grow. At times, the media considered army bulletins less than truthful. In turn, army officials felt reporters emphasized the bad news and ignored the good. More than a few army officers in Vietnam believed the media wished the enemy to win.
Throughout the conflict, the enemy consisted of the Vietnamese native to the south who were opposed to the government in Saigon, as well as northerners who had been ordered to move south and challenge the Americans and their Vietnamese allies. Hanoi would claim that the native southerners were an independent entity, without ties to the north. Not so. Communist leaders in North Vietnam were always in charge. To the Americans the southern insurgents were the Viet Cong, or sometimes simply “Charlie.” The northerners were regular troops of the North Vietnamese Army known informally as “the NVA.” Because President Johnson, in an effort to appear less warlike, had told the government in Hanoi that the U.S. did not seek its destruction, most of the north’s army was deployed either in the south or next door in Laos and Cambodia. These troops numbered in the thousands and, as American G.I.s would discover, were tough, well-disciplined soldiers.
As 1963 drew to a close, the situation in Vietnam, from the perspective of the United States, was deteriorating. Despite the presence of American advisors, the performance of the ARVN left much to be desired. As important, if not more so, was the fact that Diem’s rule was unraveling. There was increasingly strong opposition to the man and his government. No better example of the turmoil exists than the actions of the Buddhist monks in Saigon. Several of them—to a worldwide audience—committed deliberate acts of self-immolation: they would drench their bodies with gasoline then set themselves ablaze. So, with American acquiescence, the South Vietnamese army moved against Diem. On November 1, the generals struck. Diem was seized and killed.
There followed a succession of military-led governments, a few of which made efforts to improve not only the army but also the lives of the average Vietnamese, many of whom cared not a whit who governed in Saigon. At times these latter efforts, financed largely by the United States, produced the intended results. But, in the long run, marred by incompetence and by the corruption endemic to Vietnamese society, the programs failed.
President Kennedy had made a second key decision with regard to Vietnam, in addition to that of vastly increasing the American presence. He authorized a covert program of harassment and surveillance along the southern coastline of North Vietnam. South Vietnamese rangers raided the north while U.S. Navy ships conducted electronic espionage offshore. When Lyndon Johnson continued these operations, the stage was set for one of the more important chapters in the story of America’s war in Vietnam.
***
Early in August 1964, the American destroyer
Maddox
was several miles off the coast of North Vietnam, carrying out electronic surveillance. Responding to this intrusion, North Vietnamese torpedo boats attacked the ship. The
Maddox
returned the fire, hitting at least one of the boats. An hour later, U.S. warplanes from a nearby carrier also struck the North Vietnamese craft. President Johnson chose not to reply further, but he did authorize the continuation of the spying missions.
Two days later, on the night of August 4, another destroyer reported (apparently erroneously) that it had come under attack. This time, LBJ hit back hard. He ordered the U.S. Navy to strike the torpedo boat bases. These were located at Vinh, on the coast of North Vietnam some two hundred miles north of the DMZ. Sixty-four planes from two aircraft carriers, the
Ticonderoga
and the
Constellation
, did so, severely damaging the base. Two aircraft were lost; one of the pilots was killed. The other, Lieutenant (j.g.) Everett Alvarez, became a prisoner of war (POW). He would be the first of many, eventually serving eight years in captivity before being released in March 1973 along with 586 other American POWs.