Sanitizing the Sanctuaries

WELL before Richard Nixon told the U.S. of his conviction that "the time had come for action," 20,000 U.S. and South Vietnamese troops were across the Cambodian border and deep into a suddenly wider war. The day before the President went on the air, an 8,700-man South Vietnamese force accompanied by 50 American advisers had plunged into the Parrot's Beak. The next morning, barely two hours before Nixon was to begin his speech, an 11,500-man task force, spearheaded by 2,000 troopers of the U.S. 1st Air Cavalry Division (Airmobile) helicoptered into the Fishhook.

The operation was nicknamed "the Big One" by the brass in Saigon. It had the earmarks of the first truly classic operation in a long and decidedly unconventional war. In many ways, it looked like a World War II-style ground offensive. At one point along the Fishhook perimeter, a battery of nearly 100 heavy-artillery pieces poured fire into suspected enemy positions. The ground trembled as flights of as many as 35 huge B-52s roared over the sanctuaries again and again, dumping more than 2,000,000 Ibs. of bombs. The columns of South Vietnamese tanks and armored cars that tore into the Parrot's Beak suggested the lumbering search-and-destroy operations that proved of questionable value in the jungles of Viet Nam. But on the dry plains of Cambodia, where long plumes of dust rose behind the speeding armor, conditions were ideal.

Pincer Attack

Boring in on the Fishhook from two points, the helicopter-borne Air Cav and South Vietnamese troopers achieved total tactical surprise. "Sure, the Communists had some knowledge that we were planning a big move," said one U.S. military source. "But they never expected an air assault--never anticipated the choppers coming in on them." The pincer attack was so swift that the enemy never did get its .51-cal. antiaircraft batteries in firing position. In the first hours of the assault, one ARVN (Army of the Republic of Viet Nam) airborne unit set down right on top of a North Vietnamese regimental base area. The North Vietnamese were so flabbergasted that they put up only token resistance and withdrew hastily, leaving heavy casualties behind.

The Fishhook forces sealed off a triangular area of some 50-square miles. With any luck, they may find most of the 7th North Vietnamese Division trapped inside, and perhaps the 5th Viet Cong Division as well. But the main objective is the so-called Central Office for South Viet Nam, the field office from which Hanoi runs its political and military operations in the southern half of South Viet Nam. COSVN has a staff of 2,300 who man an elaborate series of bureaucratic "sections." Yet it is no Pentagon; to confound allied intelligence, its staff moves regularly from bunker to concrete bunker, hidden under the thick jungle canopy. The "floating crap game," as COSVN is known in Saigon, is often widely dispersed. As they searched for it, the troops found elaborate underground bunkers almost everywhere they turned: plucking a pineapple from the ground at an innocent-looking farm in the Fishhook, an astonished G.I. discovered that he had opened the disguised door to a huge underground complex complete with bunkrooms and mess halls. Tanks rolled over suddenly sagging fields that covered elaborate below-ground facilities.

The three-pronged assault on the Parrot's Beak, 55 miles to the west, was a South Vietnamese show. Fewer than 50 American advisers rolled along with the Vietnamese task forces, commanded by Lieut. General Do Cao Tri, overall head of Total Victory. Once again, the Communists were caught poorly prepared. Enemy defenses--hastily constructed bunkers, occasional minefields --were flimsy and new. When ARVN tanks closed to within 50 yards of a Viet Cong position, Tri saw what he described to TIME Correspondent Burton Pines as "one of the most exciting battles I have ever seen. Our men fought the Communists in hand-to-hand combat, using rifles, knives and bayonets. When it was over, we had killed more than 50 of the enemy, while we suffered only five wounded."

Monique's Clique

More than 30 miles down Route 1, which extends from Hanoi to Saigon and Phnom-Penh, General Tri figured in a significant incident of the drawn-out Indochina conflict: the first face-to-face meeting between Vietnamese and Cambodian soldiers since the two mutually antagonistic countries were created at Geneva 16 years ago. Just a mile outside of Svay Rieng city, Tri jumped out of his helicopter, smiled and saluted Lieut. Colonel Ou Yem, the assistant commander of a force of ragtag Cambodian troops wearing tennis shoes and carrying Chinese-made AK-47 rifles.

Despite talk of "cleaning out" the sanctuaries, the tanks and heliborne troops had little chance of catching many of the 40,000 enemy troops (three-fourths of them North Vietnamese) who use the border areas for rest, refitting and training. The typical Communist base holds perhaps 2,000 troops, and they may well elude the current sweeps as they have avoided clearing operations in South Viet Nam for years. "We are not interested in personnel," concedes a White House official. "We are interested in supply dumps and communications facilities." At this point in the war, supplies are as crucial to the Communists as men. Shipments of food and arms have dwindled to practically nothing since Cambodian Premier Lon Nol's anti-Communist regime took power last March. Some sources say that it has been six months since anything has arrived at the sanctuaries via the Cambodian port of Kampong Som (formerly Sihanoukville), which had been the source of as much as 80% of enemy supplies in the lower half of South Viet Nam.

When he was Cambodia's chief of state, Prince Norodom Sihanouk not only gave the Communists the run of his country's eastern border regions but also countenanced a lucrative trade with the enemy in arms, rice and other stores. The trade was monopolized by what is now known in Phnom-Penh as "Monique's clique," after Sihanouk's lovely Eurasian fourth wife. Monique, her stepbrother Oum Manorine, who was the Cambodian provincial police chief, and other high-ranking Cambodians led a ring that picked up supplies arriving via Soviet, Chinese and East European ships in Sihanoukville and delivered them to the sanctuaries. The profiteers demanded payment from the Viet Cong in American dollars.

That once flourishing arms racket has, however, yielded a delayed dividend. A map hanging on a wall of the Cambodian police headquarters in Phnom-Penh shows the location of Communist caches in the sanctuaries, and Cambodian officials have been passing the information along to Saigon.

Three-Theater War

It is possible that the drive against the sanctuaries may compel Hanoi to re-examine its options. For the moment, however, there is no sign that the Communists are scaling down any part of the three-theater war that is now being waged in Indochina. In South Viet Nam another peak of activity is expected between this week's anniversary of the fall of Dienbienphu and Ho Chi Minh's birthday, which is two weeks off. In Laos, where the North Vietnamese and their Pathet Lao allies had been relatively inactive for weeks, a new drive was suddenly launched last week.

For some time, the Communists had been directing their energies at the joint Laotian-U.S. bases at Sam Thong and Long Cheng in north central Laos. This time, their target was Attopeu, a government-held town near the northern border of Cambodia. North Vietnamese and Pathet Lao troops have been toying with Attopeu for more than a decade; in the past year, the city has been completely encircled, forcing Vientiane to supply it by airdrop. Last week a Communist force, perhaps as large as two battalions, finally pounced, capturing the town after a day-long fight in which 93 Laotians were reported killed. Why had Attopeu finally been taken? The town is situated on a Mekong River tributary called the Se Kong, and there was speculation that the Communists were after a handy water route by which reinforcements, supplies--or a new "army of liberation" headed by Sihanouk--could be floated into northern Cambodia. , -.

The greatest pressure, however, has been on Cambodia's new regime. The Communists clearly want to topple Lon Nol and restore the more pliable Sihanouk. The Viet Cong raiders who race through Cambodia's towns and villages even wear "Sihanouk" buttons. The U.S.-South Vietnamese drive against the Communist sanctuaries is likely to shore up Lon Nol, at least for a while. Even with that help, his government is in bad shape. In the north, where the Communists control three provinces, they overran the important rubber-plantation town of Mimot; 1,000 Cambodian defenders have not been heard from since. Until the U.S.-South Vietnamese operation, the enemy virtually owned the third of the country that lies east of the Mekong. In the south, the Communists are continuing to hit the towns that encircle Phnom-Penh. Five of the seven highways radiating from the capital have come under attack; if the Communists were to close the broad highway to Kampong Som, the country's only oil refinery would be cut off, leaving Phnom-Penh with only about a month's supply of fuel.

Holding Together

It will be months before Cambodia's green, ill-equipped 35,000-man army can realistically be expected to give veteran Viet Cong and North Vietnamese troops real trouble. And the Cambodians may not have that much time, especially if the drive on the sanctuaries forces the Communists to retreat to the west, where they are likely to clash with Lon Nol's troops. Nixon's promise to supply small arms and mortars will help--though the assistance will be on a far smaller scale than Phnom-Penh had hoped. As he briefed White House staffers last week, Henry Kissinger announced with a straight face that the Cambodians had "sent in a request for enough stuff to equip an army of 200,000. We asked them to take it back and reconsider," Kissinger went on, "and then they came in with a request for enough stuff to equip an army of 400,000."

Another fact that may enable the Cambodian army to hold together for a while is that in some areas resentment against the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong, always strong because of the deep Cambodian-Vietnamese ethnic hostility, is intensifying because the Communists are starting to collect taxes and requiring villagers to feed and house soldiers. Terror is increasing. In one village, Viet Cong soldiers immolated the police chief's brother.

What is the Communist command likely to do next? There seem to be a number of possibilities:

STAND AND FIGHT: If last week's results are any indication, the Communists have already rejected that idea--and wisely so. It would violate every tenet of guerrilla warfare. Moreover, the allies have substantial forces in reserve that could be thrown, if necessary, into a battle in the sanctuaries.

WITHDRAW TO NORTH VIET NAM: This option, coupled with serious negotiations, is what Washington would most like to see. There has been no sign of it. In fact, the Communists' seizure of Attopeu in Laos might indicate a determination to solidify their hold over alternate sanctuaries and supply routes.

FADE TO THE WEST: So far, the Communists seem to be doing just that. A prudent withdrawal could cost them their supply caches, and it could take Hanoi precious months to restock them. But the troops themselves would live to fight another day, perhaps from the very havens that are now being scoured by the allies.

CAPTURE PHNOM-PENH: The Communists would then be able to set up new staging areas deeper inside Cambodia. But occupying a city of half a million might prove far more trouble than it is worth, sorely taxing Hanoi's resources at a time when the North Vietnamese are anxious to fight an "economy of force" war.

LAUNCH A TET-STYLE OFFENSIVE: A dramatic attack on Vietnamese cities, coupled perhaps with an invasion by the 20,000 North Vietnamese troops stationed directly above the Demilitarized Zone might force Total Victory troops to hurry back from the sanctuaries. The Communists would then be free to return and take their vital supplies. U.S. military men doubt this would work. They think that the powerful ground forces and air support remaining in Viet Nam could handle any trouble, even if the Communists were prepared to withstand severe losses.

SEND REINFORCEMENTS FROM LAOS: Of the estimated 67,000 North Vietnamese troops in Laos, 30,000 are assigned to guard duty on the Ho Chi Minh Trail. An effort to send reinforcements down the trail to the Cambodian sanctuaries would entail a long march over distances of up to 450 miles, subject to U.S. air attacks every inch of the way.

CALL THE CHINESE: Conceivably, Chinese troops could move into North Viet Nam in order to free more North Vietnamese for duty down South. Whether the North Vietnamese, who are as suspicious of the Chinese as Cambodians are of Vietnamese, would even request such aid is highly problematical.

Final Option

In Saigon, the guess is that the Communists will try to launch a diversionary operation of some sort in South Viet Nam--perhaps combined with a stepped-up attempt to knock off Lon Nol's government in Phnom-Penh. What the Nixon Administration is hoping for is that Hanoi will be compelled to consider a final option--serious negotiations. Few observers expect that to happen soon. In Paris last week, a Hanoi spokesman responded to the President's Cambodia speech by declaring: "The Nixon Administration has the mouth of Buddha and the heart of a serpent." His attitude was not exactly surprising, but neither did it offer much hope for progress in the long-deadlocked peace talks.

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