A Visit Down Under

Signing autographs, shaking hands, pinching babies' cheeks and chatting with admiring Aussie lassies in miniskirts, South Vietnamese Premier Nguyen Cao Ky swept through a five-day visit to Australia last week like a politician campaigning for President. Back in Saigon some Vietnamese thought that he was doing just that in preparation for his nation's return to civilian rule.

But the jaunty Air Vice Marshal insisted that his trip was simply a thank you for Australia's 4,500-man contribution to the Allied forces fighting in Viet Nam. Whatever the reason, Ky and his beauteous wife Mai, 24, were clearly enjoying themselves.

Ky traveled 50 miles into the bush country to see the Royal Australian Army's Canungra jungle training center, watching Aussie "diggers" slated for Viet Nam thread an obstacle course known as "the horror stretch." On the firing range, a lieutenant offered him a burp gun, saying "Here, mate, have a go at it." "No, thank you," replied the premier, "I am in civilian clothes, so I don't shoot." Stopping at a small farming community, he gave a little speech on the schoolhouse steps, then sought out the village's old man resting near by in the shade. "How old are you, sir?" he asked one grizzled rancher. "Eighty-four," came the answer. "Ah, the same age as my grandfather," said Ky beaming. "I salute you, sir."

Secret Weapon. Madame Ky, freshly round-eyed from plastic surgery in Tokyo (TIME, Dec. 23), got nearly as much attention as her husband. Aussie papers breathlessly reported each change of dazzling, multicolored ao dai that she wore, analyzed her hairdos and even printed enlargements of her shoes. The consensus: a stunner. Said Prime Minister Harold Holt: "Marshal Ky's strikingly beautiful wife is a secret weapon who has added to the tour's success."

A success it undeniably was, even though Australia's anti-war leftists had promised Ky the same sort of derisive demonstrations that they had inflicted on Lyndon Johnson last October. There was some trouble, notably in Brisbane, where some 700 pro-and anti-Ky demonstrators squared off with fists. There were taunting signs and other scattered protests along the way, including a group of chanting demonstrators in Sydney who burned Ky in effigy. But Ky's candor and charm largely disarmed his critics, especially among the press. When one newsman jibed at Ky's renowned skill with a pistol, the Premier coolly offered to set up a match: "We'll shoot for a case of Australian beer." A Communist reporter who disputed Ky's account of conditions in South Viet Nam was invited on a Ky-conducted tour of his nation, and quickly accepted.

"You have sent us your men in our hour of greatest need, you have given us help when we need it most," was Ky's message to Australians. This week he carries it to New Zealand for a five-day tour. Some time after that, he has made plain, he wants to bring the same message personally to the U.S.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.