(56 of 4)
troops become more efficient, the wily
Viet Cong are also learning new techniques. One of the Viet Cong's
latest tactics has been to mount a series of feinting attacks on a
target, then to withdraw, luring government reserve forces into a
well-laid ambush. As a result, badly needed reinforcements often hang
back for fear of walking into a trap.
Such a war is a new and frustrating experience for U.S. military
advisers. Mindful of the fact that 73 Americans have lost their lives
in the fighting so far, their most bitter complaint is that military
operations are constantly hobbled by political considerations. The big
command decisions have to be cleared with President Diem, who still
leans heavily on such members of his family as Brother Ngo Dinh Nhu,
and the beauteous Madame Nhu, for advice and support in the struggle
against the Communists. Diem is mistrustful of many of his best
soldiers and fears also that continued heavy casualties will undermine
what public support he enjoys.
U.S. officers have pleaded in vain with Diem to allow more small-unit
sallies and night operations to challenge the Viet Cong's after-dark
supremacy. In their impatience with Diem, some exasperated U.S.
officials wish that he could be replaced by a more flexible man. But
they admit that there is no other leader in sight. The regime tends to
exaggerate its successes and minimize its failures, insists that its
airborne attacks have finally "disheartened" the Reds and "caught them
off balance." Many combat-seasoned U.S. advisers think that this is
hardly enough. "Hell," says one, "if all we did was to keep them off
balance on Guadalcanal, we'd still be there."
The Coaching War. Strategically and politically, of course, the war for
Viet Nam has little in common with the Battle of Guadalcanal. The U.S.
is not running the war, but is trying to help a sensitive young nation
to win for itself. It is a guerrilla war in which, as President Diem
says, "psychological aspects" may prove more important than killing the
enemy—even though, in the U.S. view, his regime has done far too
little, too late, to win the support of the rural populace. After
prolonged pressure, the government agreed only last week to assume the
$17 million annual cost of the hamlet program—the U.S. in addition has
been spending $400 million a year in South Viet Nam—and even this
reluctant decision by Diem was largely influenced by fear that the
villagers were showing greater loyalty to U.S. administrators than to
the regime.
Distressing as they may be, the differences of opinion between the
government and its U.S. advisers are unlikely to abate. In fact, if the
war turns more clearly in South Viet Nam's favor, the regime will
probably become more impatient of U.S. advice. For the Vietnamese, it
is, after all, a war for independence.
