Men in Battle

Battles in the Monsoon, by S. L. A. Marshall, Brig. General, USAR-Ret. Morrow, $6.95

This book is required reading for any American who wants to understand what American fighting men are accomplishing in Vietnam and the purpose toward which their efforts are directed. The author has won enduring fame for his firsthand reporting of men in battle in World War II, Korea and the Sinai campaign. Now, from Vietnam, he brings us, with this same vivid realism, the story of three battles fought during the summer monsoon season of 1966 in the Central Highlands. His hour-by-hour account of the soldiers who fought there, of those who died and those who survived, those who followed and those who led, of the men on our side and of the enemies they faced, carries conviction for any reader of open mind that these battles have not been fought in vain. “The essential drama of war,’ the author writes, “lies in what is thought and done by men in the close-joined fire fight where their lives are at stake from minute to minute. Nothing willed by any genius in high command as to the action of fighting forces has any real importance until the rank and file directly under the gun do it and thereby validate his judgment while sustaining his reputation for wisdom and boldness.” : It is fashionable to say that the successes of American troops in Vietnam are largely, if not wholly, due to the enormous volume of our supporting fires (air and artillery). General Marshall’s crisp narrative makes quite clear that the American soldier is consistently outfighting both the North Vietnamese and the Vietcong on the ground with hand-carried weapons — often under conditions when supporting fires are not immediately available. Our enemies have courage and endurance, but “their military character is too frequently overrated; their one great talent is evasion’”—i.e. avoidance of direct contact unless all factors are favorable. Our air and artillery give us a priceless edge, but we are winning the infantry battle too—on the soldierly merit of our troops. ONE REASON why this has not become clear to the American public is that the war in Vietnam has been—at least for a time—‘the most wretchedly reported war in history.” This is not the fault of our military leadership, who are only too anxious for the facts to be widely understood. It is the fault of a considered over-all policy of trying to make everything look rosy, a policy which may be exemplified in the system adopted for naming battles. They are not called battles—too harsh and bloody a word—but are given the smoother title of operations, tagged with the names of distinguished Americans such as Nathan Hale and Washington Irving. “It’s the Madison Avenue approach to making bloodshed more acceptable,’ ‘writes Marshall. “The net result will be the scrambling of history.” That result is already visible. The day-to-day reports from Saigon, as printed or televised in the United States, tell of engagements fought in widely separated parts of South Vietnam, so-and-so-many miles northeast or southwest or whatever of Saigon, with so-and-so-many casualties. That these engagements are each a part of a considered plan and together add up to the accomplishment of a practical purpose, is rarely if ever conveyed to readers or viewers. The result is confusion and a sense of futility—“the hopeless war.” Also there has been over-emphasis on statistics, beloved of the civilian echelons of the Department of Defense. Take the “body count’ rule, which requires that the number of enemy KIA (killed in action) be reported from actual count by American personnel of enemy bodies left on the battlefield. But the enemy consistently carries or drags away his dead when he can; if not, he sometimes buries them right in the bunkers and foxholes where they died, so that they are often overlooked. Or something like this happens: “General Pearson and Captain Dill lay on the rim of the knoll and counted NVA bodies on the slope. There were twenty-three. One hour later all were gone. None of these bodies was included in the official total. Five NVA soldiers were killed trying to pull back bodies from the hill; they were not counted either.” Or consider the official insistence— long maintained and not yet wholly abandoned—that Cambodian territory is not being used by the enemy as a privileged sanctuary, when it is the common knowledge of every soldier who has fought in the Central Highlands and the adjoining area northwest of Saigon that without this Cambodian sanctuary the whole fighting force of the enemy in those parts would have been wiped out during the past year. VIETNAM is a land in which it is no pleasure for Westerners to fight. There are leeches and jungle rot. There is a particularly vicious form of malaria, which can strike suddenly and knock a man out of the battleline. There is the heat—which makes tabasco sauce an article in great demand, to offset the effects of the local temperature. There are disease-carrying mosquitoes. Of course, there is also insect repellent, issued to all soldiers. But—“young Americans are so conditioned to deodorants that many of these soldiers stick with cologne and after-shave lotion and dare the anopheles mosquito to have att.” One highly heartening picture emerges from General Marshall’s pages: our Army (and Marine Corps) units are the most thoroughly and compatibly integrated organizations under the American flag. There are Negro soldiers in almost every combat outfit. Many of them are noncommissioned officers. They are the full equals as battle leaders of any other soldiers, and they are cbeyed by white subordinates, not only without question, but with the trust and affection they merit on the basis of their soldierly qualities. There is hope in that reflection. There is hope, too, in the indelible impression which emerges from Marshall’s tale of small fights blending into a coherent and purposeful whole. While on most pages the focus is on the front-line soldier, the viewpoint shifts often enough to battalion, brigade and higher headquarters so that the reader never loses sight of the purpose behind the fighting. This is a war which has not only an evolving tactical doctrine, but a clear strategic plan and aim. Of the “average American VIP,” General Marshall notes that “his willingness to sound an opinion on the problems faced by the nation in Southeast Asia invariably outruns his supply of information.” It is a pity that statesmen and scholars here at home cannot be required to read Battles in the Monsoon before making that next pronouncement for the guidance of public thinking on the Vietnam war. The numerous maps and sketches are of great aid in illustrating the text. They would be even more helpful had all of them been supplied with N-S directional arrows, and with scales in kilometers or meters.