Whether or not the North Vietnamese have come to Paris to make peace ultimately, it is clear that for the time being they are relentlessly determined to raise the level of fighting in South Viet Nam. More North Vietnamese men and materiel are flowing down the Ho Chi Minh Trail to the southern battlefields than at any time since the war began—perhaps as many as 30,000 a month v. 6,000 monthly a year ago. With a ruthless disregard for civilian lives, the Communists, in almost daily rocket attacks and periodic, suicidal infantry thrusts, have brought the fighting to Saigon, turning the city into a nightmare of fear, destruction and random death. The war, which used to be something remote that took place in rice fields and jungles, has come to stay in the capital ever since the first shock of the massive Communist Tet offensive last February. And life is now far grimmer for Saigon's 2,500,000 residents than it was at the worst of Tet.
Early one morning last week, as the capital was stirring to life, Communist gunners cut loose a savage rocket barrage aimed at the heart of the capital. Firing from positions six miles east of downtown Saigon, they launched 26 Soviet-made 122-mm. missiles, whose only warning is a high-pitched whistle. Two missiles smashed into two houses in Gia Long Street and killed eight civilians. Another landed within 200 ft. of the Rex, originally an apartment building and now a U.S. billet. American officers there abandoned their breakfast and threw themselves under tables while Vietnamese waitresses screamed in terror. A fourth round smacked into a bookshop on Tu Do Street, killing two Vietnamese maids; one fell, decapitated, next to the fresh bread she had just bought. The barrage threw Continental Palace Hotel guests out of their beds, cut telecommunications, dug a huge crater only a few feet from the statue of the Madonna of Peace in John F. Kennedy Square. The final toll for the raid's ten grim minutes: 26 Vietnamese civilians killed and 116 injured.
Sandbag Shelters. The attack marked the 25th time in 38 days that rocket or mortar clusters had hit Saigon, and there are no longer any safe areas in the city. Each rocketing and each allied effort to dig out attacking Communist ground units cause fresh destruction and new refugees who stagger from the shattered homes, clutching meager possessions, dragging or carrying tearful, terrified children. Hospitals are packed—some 4,800 civilians have been treated for wounds since early May and refugee centers overflow under the tide of the more than 160,000 people made homeless in the past six weeks. Schools have been closed for weeks. Many youngsters wear metal identification tags or bracelets, in case they are lost or found dead or wounded. Barbed wire coils around some homes, sandbag prices and sales have shot up, and the My Duyen Construction Co. offers to build a simple sandbag shelter for $100 and a deluxe model, complete with electric lights, for $250.