A Strong but Risky Show of Force

"Have been fired on and boarded by Cambodian armed forces. Vessel being escorted to unknown Cambodian port."

When that last distress call crackled over the air from the beleaguered U.S. merchant ship Mayaguez in the Gulf of Siam last week, it set in motion a dramatic, controversial train of events that significantly changed the image of U.S. power in the world--and the stature of President Gerald Ford. By calling up U.S. military might and successfully forcing the Cambodians to surrender the ship and free the 39-man crew, Ford acted more firmly and decisively than at any other time in his presidency. By drawing the line against aggression in the Mayaguez incident, he put potential adversaries on notice that despite recent setbacks in Indochina and the Middle East, the U.S. would not allow itself to be intimidated. That action reassured some discouraged and mistrustful allies that the U.S. intends to defend vigorously its overseas interests. But the events of the week also raised a series of questions that are bound to be debated in the U.S. and in foreign capitals for months to come.

Ford showed that in a confrontation he was not only willing to risk using military force but also that, once committed, he would use plenty of it. Thus, to free one freighter and not quite twoscore crewmen, the President called out the Marines, the Air Force and the Navy. He ordered assault troops--supported by warships, fighter-bombers and helicopters--to invade a tiny island of disputed nationality where the crewmen were thought (erroneously) to be held. To prevent a Cambodian counterstrike, he ordered two much disputed bombing raids of the Cambodian mainland. At home and abroad, some political experts thought that the show of force, which had many of the gung-ho elements of a John Wayne movie, was excessive. The Tokyo newspaper Yomiuri Shimbun asked, "Why did [the U.S.] have to use a cannon to shoot a chicken?"

Hard Kick. The cannon was effective, of course, showing the world that the U.S. will not accept humiliating provocations. But the U.S. success owed almost as much to luck as to skill in combat. If the Communist Cambodians had dug in and refused to release the Mayaguez crew, the military mission might well have aborted. In an interview with TIME Correspondent Joseph J. Kane, Defense Secretary James Schlesinger admitted: "The outcome was fortunate."

It was fortunate also because President Ford had been hoping for weeks to find a dramatic way to demonstrate to the world that the Communist victories in Indochina had not turned the U.S. into a paper tiger. He had been searching for a means to show that the U.S. is now conducting what Secretary of State Henry Kissinger recently called an "abrasive" foreign policy. Even before the Cambodians seized the Mayaguez, one U.S. Government policy planner had told TIME, "There's quite a bit of agreement around here that it wouldn't be a bad thing if the other side goes a step or two too far in trying to kick us while we're down. It would give us a chance to kick them back--hard."

The Khmer Rouge, intoxicated by their recent takeover of Cambodia, provided that chance because the whole world could see that their seizure of the ship was an outrageous hijacking on the high seas. Ford had expected some Communist probe to test the U.S. resolve in the wake of Viet Nam, but he was caught completely by surprise that it was the Cambodians who struck. He had thought that the nation's confrontation with Cambodia's Communists was finally finished. But faced with that challenge from afar, Ford acted calmly and confidently. In the past, he has often been accused of being vacillating, of bending too readily to the influence of some top aides. In a series of crisis meetings last week, he invited suggestions from his highest military and diplomatic aides and heard some conflicting opinions from them. But he made his own proposals, and, most important, he made the hard decisions and then stuck to them.

Ford's grace under pressure and hard-nosed attitude toward the Cambodians won him new political support, particularly among conservative Republicans, some of whom had been considering running a third-party candidate against him in 1976. Late in the week his strongest political challenger, former California Governor Ronald Reagan, phoned congratulations to Ford. So, too, did Richard Nixon.

Throughout the U.S., and in much of the rest of the world, the response to Ford's action was overwhelmingly favorable. Despite some criticism and continued questioning, most members of Congress shared Democratic Senator Hubert Humphrey's view that Ford "had no other choice" and that the U.S. "simply cannot permit flagrant violation of international law." Administration leaders exulted over the success. It showed, said Kissinger, that "there are limits beyond which the U.S. cannot be pushed." Echoed Vice President Nelson Rockefeller: "I'm very proud to be an American today."

The events that built to that climax started at dawn on Monday and carried on for four days of high drama, hard debate and significant decisions:

MONDAY. A modern version of the tramp steamers that crawl from port to port in the old Somerset Maugham stories, the 31-year-old S.S. Mayaguez is a 10,766-ton container ship, with a length of 480 ft. and a top speed of 15 knots. With its sister ship the Ponce, the Mayaguez had been assigned to Asian waters since January, when both were transferred from the Caribbean by their owner, Sea-Land Service, Inc., of Menlo Park, N.J., a subsidiary of the tobacco-centered conglomerate R.J. Reynolds Industries, Inc., of Winston-Salem, N.C.

When it was seized the unarmed Mayaguez was heading from Hong Kong to Sattahip, Thailand, and to Singapore. Its cargo: commercial goods and some modest supplies for U.S. servicemen and embassy personnel in Thailand. The merchantman was in regular shipping channels, some 60 miles from the coast of Cambodia and about seven miles from the small, rocky and uninhabited Wai Islands, which are claimed by Thailand, South Viet Nam and Cambodia. Possibly because of the main island's profile, the Cambodians call it Koh Ach Sen, which translates as Horseshit Island.

The U.S., which recognizes only a three-mile limit, considers the area to be international waters (past Cambodian governments have claimed a twelve-mile limit). Unbeknown to Mayaguez Captain Charles T. Miller and his 38-man crew, however, the Cambodians in the previous ten days had fired on or captured--but presumably released--25 ships and fishing boats in the same area with no warning or explanation.

The first sign of danger for the Mayaguez was the sudden appearance at 2:20 p.m. (3:20 a.m. in Washington) of a Cambodian gunboat. It fired machine gun bullets and a rocket across the freighter's bow and forced her to stop. Radio Operator Wilbert Bock got off a last distress call. Then the Cambodians apparently located the radio shack and the radio fell silent. But the last message was picked up in Indonesia by agents of the ship's owner and relayed to the State Department in Washington.

Awakening as usual at 5:30 a.m., President Ford was told the sketchy details of the seizure in his early morning briefing. The U.S. had no information on why the ship had been seized; indeed, that remained unclear throughout the week. Some officials speculated that, flushed with their conquest of the country, the Cambodian Communists were simply kicking sand in American faces. Others suggested that the Cambodians were reinforcing their claim to the Wai Islands, where geologists believe oil may lie under the sea bottom. Still other U.S. officials feared that the Cambodians had taken the ship in order to use it as a chip in future bargaining with the U.S. over weapons that soldiers of the former Cambodian government had fled with to Thailand.

Spy Operation. Not until the final stages of the rescue operation would the Cambodians themselves offer an explanation, and it was most implausible. In a radio broadcast, Information Minister Hou Nim insisted that the Mayaguez was part of a CIA spy operation. Both the U.S. and the ship's owners have denied the charge.

After pondering the news during his routine half hour of exercises, Ford discussed it with Lieut. General Brent Scowcroft, deputy director of the National Security Council. At noon, the President met for 45 minutes in the Cabinet Room with two members of the NSC, Kissinger and Defense Secretary Schlesinger, and with CIA Director William Colby and Air Force Chief of Staff General David C. Jones; Jones was substituting for Joint Chiefs' Chairman General George S. Brown, who was in Europe on a NATO inspection trip.

At the meeting, Ford asked interminable questions. Where were the crew members taken? How many U.S. military men and how much U.S. materiel was available in the area? How soon could that force be brought to the site of the seizure?

Then the President ordered the Pentagon to prepare for possible military action. At his direction, Defense Department officials put on alert a 1,100-man amphibious brigade from the 3rd Marine Division, based on Okinawa. In addition, they directed six ships already in the Pacific--the destroyer escort Har old E. Holt, guided missile destroyer Henry B. Wilson and the aircraft carrier Coral Sea, accompanied by three destroyer escorts--to head for the Gulf of Siam. Finally, the Pentagon ordered three Navy P3 Orion anti-submarine reconnaissance planes at the U.S. Air Force Base at Utapao, Thailand, to keep watch over the Mayaguez. Because of clouds and darkness, the planes often had to fly as low as 1,000 ft.

Returned Notes. Ford also instructed Kissinger to request the People's Republic of China to help persuade the Cambodians to release the crew and ship. Later in the day, Deputy Secretary of State Robert Ingersoll asked Huang Chen, head of the Chinese liaison office in Washington, to transmit a note to the Cambodians, demanding immediate release. George Bush, chief of the U.S. liaison office in Peking, interrupted a picnic at the Ming tombs outside the city to deliver a similar message to Chinese authorities. Next day, the Chinese returned the notes, signifying that they would not accept them.

Still, U.S. officials speculated that the Chinese had passed Washington's demand on to the Cambodians, perhaps even adding a message of their own urging that the ship and crew be returned. If that is so, the episode would be another indication that China wants the U.S. to maintain a substantial position in Asia in order to counterbalance Soviet influence.

But the diplomatic efforts provoked no rejoinder from the Cambodians. In fact, Ford and his advisers were pessimistic all along about the prospects for diplomacy because U.S. analysts believe that the Chinese do not wield much influence yet in Phnom-Penh.

At this first NSC meeting on the Mayaguez incident, and at sessions that were to follow, Kissinger and Schlesinger argued over how much force--in particular, how many Marines--the U.S. should be prepared to use to free the ship and its crew. Schlesinger urged that the U.S. should move cautiously to avoid overreacting, and should use only the minimum strength necessary to get back the ship and crew. But Kissinger maintained that the U.S. had to employ enough force to give the operation broad political impact in Asia, particularly as regards North Korea, which has lately sounded more belligerent toward South Korea. He called for a sharp, decisive blow.

Ford agreed with Kissinger. The President later confided that the first hours were somewhat confusing, but he sensed that the trouble might be big. He was guided by old feelings, old experiences. Throughout the Viet Nam War, Ford had always come down on the side of stronger rather than weaker responses. In his view, a violation of international law--the seizure of the Mayaguez --could not be condoned. The only way to prevent a series of such violations was to act decisively on the first one.

Explained a White House aide: "The aim was for our action to be read by North Korean President Kim II Sung as well as by the Cambodians." Moreover, Ford and Kissinger were insistent that the U.S. would not repeat its failure to use force to recover the U.S. Navy surveillance ship Pueblo from North Korea in 1968. Said a Defense Department official rhetorically: "What if the Cambodians used the Mayaguez crew the way that the North Koreans used the Pueblo crew?* I'd hate to think what would happen to the remaining American position in Asia. Yet, that was a possibility we had to face if the crew was not returned."

Under no circumstances, in Ford's view, would he allow the Cambodians to hold American hostages for months. He believed that the Khmer Rouge were capable of brutal and irrational actions. Thus in the opinion of Ford and Kissinger, the possibility of a slight over-response was a risk worth taking.

Schlesinger later downplayed his differences with Kissinger, saying: "We all concurred in the final plans." The Administration restricted its public comment to issuing a statement that the ship had been seized and that Ford considered the incident "an act of piracy."

Immediately after the NSC meeting, Kissinger left for a whirlwind tour of Missouri to win public support for his foreign policies. His departure signified that Ford was taking personal command of the crisis and did not want the public to view it as so serious that it would force Kissinger to cancel his trip. As a further sign of who was in charge, State Department Spokesman Robert Funseth told reporters all week: "This has been a presidential action, and I refer you to the White House for comment."

TUESDAY. At 2:25 a.m., Scowcroft awakened the President to tell him that the Cambodians were towing the Mayaguez toward the mainland. By morning, however, Ford learned that the Cambodians had anchored at Koh Tang, a 3-mi. by 2-mi. jungle islet about 34 miles off the port of Kompong Som (also known as Sihanoukville). That was encouraging news to Ford; rescue would be more difficult if the crew had been taken to the mainland.

At an hour-long NSC meeting that morning, Ford ordered F-4 Phantoms, A-7 Corsair light-attack planes and F-111 fighter-bombers from Utapao to try to keep any Cambodian boats from moving between Koh Tang and the mainland. When the gunboats moved, the U.S. planes circling overhead fired 20-mm. machine-gun bullets into the water off their bows. At one point, the Cambodians--their force now grown to eight gunboats--fired back with antiaircraft machine guns and small arms. One bullet struck a reconnaissance plane's vertical stabilizer, but the craft made it safely back to Utapao.

In Washington, the U.S. warned the Cambodians through the Chinese not to try to take the gunboats away from the island, and gave them 24 hours to surrender the Mayaguez and its crew. At 5:30 p.m., presidential aides began phoning congressional leaders to inform them that Ford had decided to use force, if necessary. But they were not told precisely what action was contemplated.

Three hours later, the U.S. planes reported that the gunboats were headed toward the mainland. Following Ford's instructions, the warplanes first fired across the boats' bows. When that failed to stop the Cambodian craft, the planes attacked with rockets and machine-gun fire, sinking five boats and hitting two others. A U.S. helicopter dipped down to pick up Cambodian survivors, but lifted off without any after it came under Cambodian fire. On Ford's orders, the eighth gunboat was allowed to proceed toward Kompong Som because a pilot reported seeing eight or nine men with "Caucasian faces" on deck; they were thought to be those of some or perhaps all of the Mayaguez's crew.

Late Meeting. The worst time for Ford was Tuesday evening. He dined with his wife Betty and discussed the situation with her in general terms. He came back to the Oval Office, convinced that this was the toughest problem he had faced as President. He ordered that all the Navy, Marine and Air Force personnel in the Pacific be put on full alert and capable of moving in an hour. He felt that he was going to be lucky to get all 39 Mayaguez crewmen back alive. He was prepared for the loss of some or all of them.

The attack on the gunboats prompted Ford to convene a late-evening NSC meeting an hour after Kissinger's return to Washington. At the session, the President decided to mount the rescue mission. One Marine assault force was to seize and hold the island, where U.S. officials believed some of the crew members had been taken; another unit was to board the Mayaguez. U.S. aircraft were to support the operation, as well as bomb selected targets on the Cambodian mainland.

By nightfall on the Gulf of Siam, U.S. forces were massing for the assault. The amphibious brigade from the 3rd Marine Division had been flown aboard an Air Force C-141 transport from Okinawa to Utapao, over the protests of the Thai government, which had been trying to head off trouble with the neighboring Cambodians by refusing the U.S. permission to launch attacks from Thailand. Prime Minister Kukrit Pramoj of Thailand ordered the Marines to leave by Thursday morning or face unspecified "serious and damaging" circumstances. Meanwhile, the Holt and the Wilson had closed in on Koh Tang; the Coral Sea was still more than one day's steaming away, but its fighters would soon be within striking range.

WEDNESDAY. Efforts to use diplomacy to increase the pressure on Cambodia to release the crew were still going on. At lunchtime, Ambassador John Scali handed United Nations Secretary-General Kurt Waldheim a letter asking him "to take any steps within your ability." Waldheim offered Phnom-Penh his "good offices," but received no answer.

Shortly before 4 p.m., Ford held a crucial NSC meeting that lasted for nearly two hours. At 4:45, the President issued the final orders to begin the rescue operation at Koh Tang and to board the Mayaguez. Two hours later, Ford entered the Cabinet Room to brief congressional leaders on the crisis and the rescue attempt--and they gave him a standing ovation.

In Thailand and aboard the U.S. flotilla, meantime, the operation was beginning under the overall command of Air Force Lieut. General John J. Burns. At 5:45 a.m. local time, he ordered 210 Marines led by Lieut. Colonel Randall W. Austin, the ships and warplanes at Utapao and aboard the Coral Sea to make final preparations. Three HH-53 Jolly Green Giant helicopters fluttered from Utapao to the destroyer escort Holt, where 40 Marines clambered down ropes to the deck.

At 8:30 a.m., the Holt snuggled up to the Mayaguez. Rifles at the ready, the Marines climbed over the rail to the freighter; the Holt's deck crew trained machine guns on the Mayaguez's deck. With the Marines came a crew to sail the Mayaguez to freedom and a demolition team to check the ship for bombs and booby traps. To the Marines' surprise, no one was aboard. In the galley were bowls of warm rice and tea, but the diners--possibly Cambodians --had disappeared. The disappointed Marines hoisted a U.S. flag on the freighter's fantail and awaited further developments.

Vigorous Fire. At the same time the Marines boarded the Mayaguez, nine CH-53 and HH-53 helicopters carrying 210 Marines attacked the island under cover of fighters--A-6 Intruders, A-7 Corsairs and F-4 Phantoms. It was a hard-fought battle. According to U.S. intelligence estimates, only between 100 and 200 Cambodians were defending the island, but they managed to shoot down three helicopters and damage two others. The Marines established a beachhead, then were pinned down for a time by vigorous small-arms fire from Cambodians hidden in a wooded area some 75 yds. from the beach. U.S. warplanes strafed the Cambodians' positions; a C-130 cargo plane dropped the largest American conventional bomb, which weighs 15,000 Ibs. But there was no need for the Marines to move inland; they were told by radio that contrary to their expectations, no members of the Mayaguez's crew were on the island.

Back at the Pentagon, events were unfolding that would later create the biggest controversy of the rescue operation. At 7:07 p.m. Washington time, the Cambodian radio broadcast that the government was prepared to release the ship, but made no mention of the crew. Monitored in Bangkok, the message was relayed at 8:16 p.m. to Washington, where the President was donning black tie in preparation for a working dinner for The Netherlands' Prime Minister Uyl. After reading the text of the Cambodian broadcast, Ford told Kissinger to tell Phnom-Penh in a radio broadcast, to be transmitted internationally, that he would halt military operations as soon as the Mayaguez's crew was released. At 8:45 p.m. (7:45 a.m. Cambodian time), A-6 Intruders and A-7 Corsairs took off from the Coral Sea to bomb Ream Airfield near Kompong Som.

At 10:45 p.m., while the President and his guests were sipping after-dinner drinks in the Red Room, sailors aboard the Wilson observed the approach of a Thai fishing boat, which had been seized by the Cambodians in March. Its passengers, including the Mayaguez's crew, were frantically waving white handkerchiefs. Minutes later, the U.S. planes began bombing Ream Airfield, destroying 17 Cambodian aircraft, mostly U.S.-built T-28 trainers that Cambodia's deposed Lon Nol government had got from the U.S. In a second raid about an hour later, U.S. jets bombed and destroyed an oil depot near Kompong Som.

Meanwhile, at 11:07, the Wilson took aboard five Thai fishermen and members of the Mayaguez's crew. Exactly one minute later, Schlesinger telephoned Ford in the Oval Office to report that 30 crew members had been rescued. At 11:15, the Defense Secretary called again to correct the message: all of the American crew had been aboard the Thai vessel and were safe. Ford immediately ordered Schlesinger to halt all military operations, except those in sup port of the beleaguered Marines on Koh Tang. As a dozen aides outside the Oval Office cheered and applauded, Ford announced: "They're all safe. We got them all. Thank God."

The Mayaguez's crew later explained that their captors had kept them on the move--on Tuesday night to Koh Tang, on Wednesday to Kompong Som aboard the one gunboat that was unharmed by U.S. planes, and finally to the island of Rong, about 50 miles north of Koh Tang. More than an hour before the Marine assault on Koh Tang, the Cambodians had released the Americans and Thais, putting them aboard the fishing boat to make their way back to the Mayaguez.

Elated by the rescue, Ford made a brief statement for waiting reporters shortly after midnight Wednesday. Many television stations carried his remarks live. He briefly described the military operation and expressed "deep appreciation" to the fighting men. In fact, the President had already been scooped by a Pentagon spokesman at 11:15 p.m.

Some of his aides were miffed, but not Ford. He returned to the family quarters in the White House, gratefully accepted a sleeping pill from his physician, Dr. William Lukash, and sank into bed exhausted.

THURSDAY. As Betty Ford was gently shaking her husband awake at 6:30 a.m., an hour later than usual, the Mayaguez's crew was stoking the freighter's boilers.

The ship headed for Singapore, skipping the scheduled stop at Sattahip. Captain Miller wired his home office that all crew members were in good condition. The owners, Sea-Land Services, Inc., told him to open his ship to public inspection in Singapore to demonstrate that there were no spying devices of any kind aboard and that the cargo was indeed the innocent load they had indicated earlier. Meanwhile, the five rescued Thai fishermen sailed their boat home.

At Koh Tang, the U.S. helicopters waited for darkness to make it easier to evade Cambodian fire and then began pulling out the Marines. In Washington at 9:55 a.m., Scowcroft told Ford: "Mr. President, we are reasonably sure that all of the Marines are out." The casualty count was five dead, 70 to 80 wounded and 16 missing and presumed dead after a damaged helicopter crashed into the gulf. A few hours later, all of the Marines left Utapao and returned to Okinawa, thus meeting the Thai deadline for getting out.

Nonetheless, Thai officials were furious at the U.S. for defying their prohibition against attacking the Cambodians from Thai soil. In protest, university students picketed the arrival of the new U.S. ambassador, Charles S. Whitehouse. The Thai government recalled its ambassador from Washington.

Next Door. Still, some U.S. analysts believed that relations would be strained only temporarily. In their view, the Thais were making a show of deep anger, partially to placate the Cambodians. As the Bangkok World explained, "If the Cambodians decide to retaliate, what can they do? They cannot attack America, so the natural target must be Thailand, right next door." The Thais have traditionally kept their independence by skillfully accommodating their policies to whatever foreign nation wielded the most power in Southeast Asia (see THE WORLD). Suggested one U.S. Government foreign policy analyst: "It is better for them to be an aggrieved party." As such, the Thais could placate the Cambodians and then quietly repair relations with the Americans.

The U.S. rescue mission was roundly condemned by both Peking and Hanoi as an "act of piracy." But the Soviets had no public reaction at all by week's end. Elsewhere in the world, the operation drew mixed, though generally favorable, responses. An experienced French diplomat expressed a fairly typical complaint that "the same result might have been obtained with less violent methods and without the loss of lives." Britons and West Germans, however, generally expressed approval of the rescue operation. The Times of London called it "both right and effectively executed." Said a West German diplomat: "People understand that Ford could not just sit and wait."

The American use of force boosted South Korean faith in the U.S. as an ally. Said Kay Kwang Gil, a Seoul expert on international relations: "If this sort of piracy act had gone unpunished, few of the American allies on this side of the Pacific could have found it easy to maintain confidence in the U.S." The Japanese, who depend heavily on oil tankers and freighters that use the seas off the Cambodian coast, called the U.S. action justified. Australians generally regarded the U.S. action as inevitable and believed that the Mayaguez had to be recaptured if U.S. influence in the Far East was to be taken seriously.

In the U.S., some Democratic congressional leaders thought that Ford should have sought Congress's advice before acting. Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield praised Ford for making a "very difficult decision. I think it was the right one." But he also complained: "I was not consulted. I was notified after the fact." The 1973 War Powers Resolution requires Ford to consult with Congress "whenever possible" before taking military action. Ford told the leaders that he had acted "on the basis that this was the proper exercise of my responsibility" as Commander in Chief.

Indeed, two Senate sponsors of the War Powers Resolution, Democrat Frank Church of Idaho and Republican Jacob Javits of New York, believed that Ford had complied with the act. Said Church: "I really don't know what more a President can do in a situation that requires fast action."

Won One. A few Democrats, including Senators Edward Kennedy of Massachusetts and George McGovern of South Dakota, expressed reservations about Ford's use of force to free the Mayaguez and its crew. But the vast majority of Senators and Representatives from both parties applauded the President's decision. Illinois Democrat Melvin Price, chairman of the House Armed

Services Committee, called the operation "a great boost to the country." Democratic Senator Adlai Stevenson III of Illinois declared: "Let no one mistake the unity and the strength of an America under attack." Republican Senator Barry Goldwater said that without Ford's response, "every little half-assed nation would be taking a shot at us." Senate Minority Leader Hugh Scott declared that Ford had "shown he is a strong President and a man whose resolution held up under stress."

Newspapers also chorused praise for Ford. Said the Atlanta Journal: "There seems to be a feeling of joy that at last we have won one. And indeed we have." The New York Times commended the President for acting "with exemplary speed," although it added that many questions about the rescue should be thoroughly examined by Congress.

Bombing Needed. Though the operation's success muted criticism, several major critical questions indeed were being asked. Some people wondered why the U.S. had not warned merchant ships to avoid the area around the Wai Islands because of the Cambodians' belligerency. Certainly U.S. intelligence was aware of the recent rash of seizures. Another issue was whether Ford had adequately pursued diplomatic approaches before ordering in the Marines. Yet the Cambodians indisputably showed no interest in settling the crisis through diplomacy.

Congressional and other critics have questioned whether it was necessary to bomb the Cambodian mainlaind. After all, about the same time as the assault began, the Cambodians had expressed a willingness to release the Mayaguez. Ford argues that the bombing was needed to keep an estimated 2,400 Cambodian soldiers stationed around Kompong Som from joining the battle on the island. TIME Correspondent Dean Fischer reported that the President told congressional leaders just before the military action began: "I am not going to risk the life of one Marine. I'd never forgive myself." Ford further explained: "The question of doing too little weighed heavily. A counterreaction by the Cambodians would have placed the Marines' lives in jeopardy."

When Ford looked back over the week's events, he told associates that he was pleased with the execution of the rescue. The National Security Council, his aides and the military had functioned well. Yet the President ordered a review to see what lessons were to be learned. There were hints that some military equipment needed improving, that perhaps the placement of the U.S. forces in the Pacific should be changed. The success of the action provided more than a soothing balm to the American psyche and a lift for U.S. allies. Most important, the incident in the Gulf of Siam was a clear statement, in this uncertain time, of the firm intentions of the President of the U.S.

*Held for eleven months, the 82 surviving men of the Pueblo were savagely tortured and forced to sign false confessions that they had been spying for the CIA. To free the crew, the U.S. had to apologize to the North Koreans for "grave acts of espionage," though the U.S. Government almost immediately repudiated the statement.

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