The General's Biggest Battle

No single battle of the Viet Nam war has held Washington -- and the nation -- in such complete thrall as has the impending struggle for Khe Sanh. Nor was the mood last week one of cockiness, even in official quarters. The forward outpost of Lang Vei was already lost--ground down under the treads of Soviet tanks. Nearly two weeks after the Communists staged their well-timed attacks against the South's major cities at a reported cost to them of 27,706 dead, U.S. intelligence officers were ominously warning that the chances of a second wave of assaults were "50-50."

Inevitably, a new wave of criticism washed over the Capital--and for the first time a good deal of it spilled onto General William C. West moreland, the handsome U.S. commander in Viet Nam for nearly four years. Some of the criticism was aimed at his consistently sanguine estimates of a struggle that has grown increasingly sanguinary. But more was directed at the over all strategy and conduct of the war.

Time for Truth. At a book-and-author luncheon in Chicago, New York's Democratic Senator Robert F. Kennedy mounted the harshest of the attacks. "It is time for the truth," said Kennedy. "It is time to face the reality that a military victory is not in sight and that it probably never will come." Agreed Bobby's senior colleague, Jacob Javits, in a Senate speech: "We do not yet have a winning strategy in Viet Nam. The situation there is basically stalemated." Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield likewise called for a major reassessment of the U.S. commitment. And in an emotional indictment of American conduct in the war, which admittedly ignored Communist atrocities, 29 Protestant, Catholic and Jewish clergymen published a 420-page catalogue of "U.S. war crimes," called In the Name of America.

Washington and Westmoreland were by no means the only targets. The South Vietnamese government was blasted for apathy, corruption and incompetence--though U.S. officials claimed that President Nguyen Van Thieu's administration acted creditably during the Communist attacks. Massachusetts' Democratic Senator Edward Kennedy, fresh from a visit to Saigon, warned that if the Vietnamese "are unwilling to accept their responsibilities, then the American people, with great justification, may well consider their responsibilities fulfilled." Taking up his brother's theme, Bobby Kennedy told his Chicago audience: "Enormous corruption pervades every level of South Vietnamese official life." Washington's Democratic Senator Henry Jackson, a staunch Johnson supporter, demanded that "the Saigon government get off its duff and get moving."

Limited Leverage. Nothing, naturally, would please the Johnson Administration more. The fact is, however, that unless the U.S. wants to undertake a full-fledged colonial venture in South Viet Nam, its leverage in dealing with an independent and touchy Saigon government is severely limited. Militarily, too, U.S. options are notably restricted.

At a White House dinner last week, visiting British Prime Minister Harold Wilson warned that "Viet Nam will never be solved by a military solution," a point with which Johnson heartily agrees. But Hanoi so far has not been amenable to any other. Though Washington tried to get talks started last August by suspending bombing raids against targets near Hanoi and Haiphong for nearly six weeks, the North made no move toward the conference table. Hanoi responded to a similar suspension that began without public fanfare last month with the massive Communist assaults against South Viet Nam's cities. The U.S., as a result, last week resumed bombing the proscribed areas.

Setbacks & Successes. Despite the undercurrent of criticism directed at Westmore land, Johnson retains a strong faith in his abilities. In the face of a spate of critical newspaper columns--including one by Drew Pearson suggesting that Westmoreland owes his survival at least partly to the congressional power of two fellow South Carolinians, Republican Senator Strom Thurmond and Democratic Representative L. Mendel Rivers--the President made a point of sending "Westy" a cable reaffirming his continuing confidence in him.

Westmoreland's professional peers, too, give him high marks for certain aspects of his performance in Viet Nam. His smooth direction of the buildup of U.S. forces from 23,500 men in early 1965 to more than half a million today (the total reached 500,000 for the first time two weeks ago) was impressive. His establishment of a vast logistics base to feed and equip the troops was brilliant. Though his tactic of dispatching large units into jungle wastelands on "search and destroy" missions has been questioned, some active military officers believe it was the best option open to him--especially in light of the rigid restrictions imposed on him by politically sensitive Washington.

His training program to turn Vietnamese troops into disciplined, effective fighters who could eventually relieve U.S. soldiers of the brunt of battle, however, has been marked with as many setbacks as successes. Admittedly, it is a task made nearly impossible by limitations on his power, since Westmoreland can legally do no more than "advise" the Vietnamese army, and even that must be done with exquisite concern for "face." The fact is, nevertheless, that his effort has been less than wholehearted and his emphasis insufficient to cope with the task.

A Trifle Embarrassing. Westmoreland is most often faulted on two counts: 1) over-optimistic statements, and 2) faulty intelligence about the enemy.

Less than two months ago, he was reporting publicly that the Viet Cong had been so bloodied that some U.S. troops might be able to start home in 1969. Last week, he speculated that heavy Communist losses during their attacks on the cities "may measurably shorten the war." If the losses are indeed as heavy as claimed, he may be right. But the White House found his optimism in the midst of carnage a trifle embarrassing. Privately, Johnson last week ordered the general to tone it down.

There is no indication, however, that Westmoreland's reports to the White House have been less exuberant than his public pronouncements. Presumably, he was misled by his intelligence unit. Nearly all military experts agree Westmoreland has underestimated Communist strength--or overestimated the effectiveness of Viet Nam's regular army and paramilitary units. His own command admits the strength of the enemy Tet offensive came as a shock.

Calling the Shots. To some experts, Westmoreland's prime weakness as a commander (and every commander has one, military men are quick to point out) is the opposite of the late Douglas MacArthur's. He is too willing to accept orders from Washington without fighting for his own views. "He hasn't had what it takes to insist all the way that his own best ideas prevail," says a former high officer. "No other general has ever had to suffer a command structure like this. But a general has got to know what is right and what is wrong."

Though Westmoreland is not the genius at grasping broad strategy that MacArthur was, he has spoken often of the strategy of this war, and many of his ideas have been adopted. In any case, it is the President who has been the final arbiter of the war's strategy, aided by space-age communications that enable him to maintain instantaneous contact with his field commanders.

Chilling Parallels. "This emphatically is not 'Westmoreland's War,' " observes TIME Washington Bureau Chief John Steele. "In years past, it has been quite properly referred to as 'McNamara's War,' and currently it can be referred to as 'Johnson's War.' From no source is there real criticism yet of Westy's military activities. This will come should Khe Sanh, by some horrible fate, fall."

Criticized or not, Westmoreland obviously will return to the U.S. one day. Talk of his imminent recall last summer turned out to be merely rumor, and with the battle looming at Khe Sanh, his return at this moment would certainly stir considerable speculation. Yet he has already spent four years in Viet Nam, long enough so that he could logically be relieved at any time.

Undoubtedly, history's judgment of Westmoreland's generalship will depend in large measure on the outcome of the expected Khe Sanh battle. Some critics feel that defending the remote outpost is a foolish gamble that heavily favors the Communists. "Why fight at Khe Sanh at all?" asks French General Andre Beaufre, who served for five years in Indo-China. "Logistically, the fight favors the North Vietnamese. You have allowed them once again to choose the time and place of battle."

That is a gamble Westy was willing to take because Khe Sanh sits astride five passes through the rugged Annamite mountains, including the major east-west Route No. 9. Control of Khe Sanh, U.S. commanders insist, puts the Marines in a blocking position across the natural invasion route into the northern provinces of South Viet Nam.

Nonetheless, there are analysts who fear that Westmoreland may be falling into a trap set by North Viet Nam Defense Minister Vo Nguyen Giap, hero of Dienbienphu and strategist of the current offensive. Indeed, there are some chilling parallels between Giap's winter-spring offensive in 1954 and the current Red strategy. While the Communists built up their strength at Dienbienphu to 40,000 men--the estimated force now around Khe Sanh--they simultaneously launched assaults against the French throughout Indo-China. The Tet offensive was a similar widespread assault by the Communists which may have been aimed, at least in part, at pinning down U.S. troops in cities far from Khe Sanh.

Westmoreland and the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who unanimously approved his strategy, are counting on U.S. airpower, firepower and troop strength to make the difference. Unlike the French, who had few warplanes and were able to mount only 10,400 air missions to Dienbienphu in five months, the U.S. could equal that number in a few days with the 5,900 planes and helicopters it has in Viet Nam.

"The enemy has got his blade on our Achilles' heel at Khe Sanh," says a Pentagon intelligence specialist. "He's sawing away--and we're committed to hold." The blade is also poised above Westmoreland. His reputation--and much more--is riding on the ability of that barren, hillgirt outpost to stand.

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