WHEN they choose cover subjects, TIME'S editors often face a problem that might be called the faceless phenomenon. In a complex civilization, where so much is done by committees and teams, there are many important events and trends that are not readily reportable in terms of one individual. Thus it is sometimes best to use symbolic or group covers. But this problem almost never occurs in moments of world tension. Crisis has a face, and trouble finds its man.

When North Vietnamese PT boats attacked American ships in the Gulf of Tonkin for the second time last Tuesday, it was instantly clear that our previously planned cover on another subject had to be scrapped. To tell about the new crisis in Asia, any number of individuals were suitable for the cover, beginning with the President of the United States, who made the decision to strike back at North Viet Nam. By Wednesday noon, however, we had settled on the U.S. supreme commander in the Pacific, who bears immediate responsibility for the operations and the massive buildup in his vast theater.

From then on, the tempo at TIME began to escalate--but not drastically. After all, from Korea and Hungary to the Wall and Cuba, crises have become almost routine.

Artist Boris Chaliapin began sketching his portrait of Admiral Sharp from photographs. For a background, we originally considered CINCPAC'S emblem (see cut), symbolizing as it does the command's semiglobal reach, but in the end decided instead on the ships and planes that you now see moving across the cover's horizon. Nation Writers Ron Kriss and Ed Magnuson began planning the week's lead article and the cover story with Associate Editor Jesse Birnbaum. The entire Washington bureau went into action; Military Correspondent John Mulliken interrupted his vacation to resume covering the Pentagon, while Dean Fischer, substituting for TIME'S regular White House correspondent, Hugh Sidey, began his running report on the President's activities.

In Hong Kong, meanwhile, Bureau Chief Frank McCulloch organized our coverage in Southeast Asia. Correspondent Eric Pace stuck close to South Vietnamese Premier Nguyen Khanh, while other aspects of the situation were watched by James Wilde, just back with fresh impressions and a high fever from the guerrilla-infested jungle, and John Shaw, who left his wife and newborn son in Hong Kong to lend a hand in Saigon. From the Los Angeles bureau, Keith Johnson flew to Honolulu for interviews with Admiral Sharp. Reports Johnson: "Covering part of a war from Hawaii is an odd experience. The languid beauty of the place makes it an incongruous setting for anything military. Otto Preminger's staged 'bombings' this week--part of a movie he is shooting here--did not shatter the peaceful illusion." Johnson was allowed to see the secret war room at CINCPAC, which he found quite different from the doomsday vault of a war room in Dr. Strangelove: "I kept looking for the button and I didn't find one. There was, however, the admiral's gold telephone. And I suppose one could make quite a mess by saying the wrong things into that."

The admiral was obviously saying the right things last week.

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