Part 8 - Crazy Asian War [WARNING: The following episode of 'Thaxted' contains references to President Lyndon Baines Johnson. Which some readers may find offensive.]     "And I know that I'm not alone in what I think or feel      But I know there ain't nothin' I can do to make what I think real      And I know that I'm here because they said my country needed me      But I don't see why some guy back at home      Thinks me dying here will somehow keep him free" -- 'Crazy Asian War' from the musical 'Pearls before Swine'

(Friday October 1, 1965) The President was seated as his Secretary of Defense handed him the situation report. Lyndon Johnson quickly skipped through the Chief Executive summary and ran his fingers over the appendices. "As you know, Bob, I don't have much of an opinion of the fighting abilities of those Limeys. But this chart here on page 27 shows that they're killing the enemy at almost half the rate that we are - and they only have a brigade while we have four corps." Robert McNamara swallowed. "Yes, Mr President. As you correctly point out it is a chart of rate. These are per-battalion kill figures. The British bar is barely a third of the American bar. When you consider the greater proportion of soldiers the British put on the front line the ratio is more like one in four." "What are you saying, Bob?" the President said, peering up suspiciously. Even seated he was nearly as tall as the standing McNamara. "Mr President, what I am saying is that the British Expeditionary Force has contributed less than 2% of the body count of the past week." Johnson's lips moved soundlessly as he converted 'two per cent' into Texan. "That's diddly-squat!" he exploded. "Yes sir. What I propose we do is..." "The hell with any fancy pants Ivy League college approach!" The President stood up, wiped himself perfunctorily and pulled up his pants. "I'm going to Saigon to knock some sense into that Limey General." Johnson strode from the small room amidst a cloud of Secret Service agents, leaving McNamara to flush.

"Hear those jungle drums they are beating out tonight      They're telling all the world      Come and dance      The viet conga" - 'Viet Conga' from the musical 'Pearls before Swine' (Wednesday 13 October, 1965) It was another sweltering day in Hanoi. There had been no bombing for ten days now, Peggy's hosts had told her, so things were pretty much normal. She almost laughed. How can things be normal when there is a war on? Weren't things different before the war began this year? Comrade Viscountess, she was told, you may have been fighting since May, we have been fighting since 1945. She still was taken by the matter-of-factness by which this information was conveyed. She thought of the class struggle in Britain and how long it might last once the revolutionary stage was reached. She nearly reverted to the habit of her childhood and prayed - prayed that the necessary violence in Britain would not be so prolonged. Then she mentally scolded herself - what had to be done, had to be done. There was no use crying over milk that was as yet unspilt. She had already met the Politburo. According to her itinerary, she was to visit the Ministry of Fishing at Haiphong today. This would tie in nicely with her position, as Shadow Secretary of State for the White Fish Authority. However, the Ministry had relocated to Mong Cai due to the bombing. A visit to some American prisoners of war, here in Hanoi, had been scheduled instead. It was a frightful nuisance. Peggy couldn't see how visiting a group of foreign POWs could add to her reputation as a rising opposition frontbencher. They approached the yellow sandstone building. Comrade Nguyen, her escort, led her in. Peggy was intrigued to hear that the prisoners were largely American airmen. She had fond memories of serving cakes and coffee to United States Army Air Force crews at the Thaxted NAAFI during 1943 and early 1944 before she had gone to Oxford. How she admired those hard-working young men, servicing the planes being used to bomb the fascists, doing their bit to liberate Nazi occupied Europe Since then the Americans had followed the British example, and set up an independent branch of their armed services, the United States Air Force. Presumably modelled on the RAF but without, one hoped, all those portraits of Queen Elizabeth II in the officers' messes. It was such a wicked waste, all that bravery being used now to suppress the People's Revolution. Even if the Vietnamese Politburo had an unsavoury aroma of Stalinism, it was clearly doing a better job of uniting the nation than the junta in the South. And how could the Vietnamese people reform their politburo when they were fighting a war, anyway? Opposition would be seen as unpatriotic. Like trying to get rid of that Tory Churchill before Hitler had been defeated. The prisoners were lined up like an inspection parade. One of the prisoner, perhaps incarcerated longer than his fellows, pointed to the 40-year-old Viscountess. "Hey, lookit that tomato! Where's Bob Hope?" The man on his left gently elbowed him, "This ain't no USO tour. She's the Limey Commie. Pro'ly come to gloat." But gloating was the last thing on Peggy's mind. She spoke to each man, asked his home state, and told them which union there was most ideologically sound. "Captain Weiss. Arizona you say? I think the Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers Union does a fine job at Anaconda Copper, don't you? And Lieutenant..." she pronounced the rank carefully in the American style[1], "Schmidt. Which part of Minnesota? Oh, yes, the United Food and Commercial Workers, good people, very militant." Comrade Nguyen and the prison governor were a little alarmed how this visit was developing. Comrade Nguyen intimated that they might be late for the reception at the Bulgarian embassy. "I'm in no hurry for oily vodka and tonics," she declared before turning back to a sandy-haired airman, "Lieutenant Billy-Bob Jones. There isn't a branch of the United Mine Workers in Mobile? You must start one up when you get home. They do such good work!" The men started slipping Peggy pieces of cigarette paper. How that reminded her of the Thaxted NAAFI! Airmen there were always trying to ply her with cigarettes in gratitude for apple slice and percolated coffee. But it was silly! These prisoners in Hanoi would have so little if they were subject to wartime rationing like everyone else here. Whereas she had access to all the duty-free one could want. She didn't even bother looking at the cigarette papers. When she was leaving she handed them to the governor saying, "I can't possibly keep these. See that they go back to the men." The governor gave her that look of incomprehension that suggested that his written English was better than his ability to penetrate a Lincolnshire/ Essex accent. But there was no time to explain. Comrade Nguyen was practically dragging her out. So she left without a backward glance. A backward glance that might have shown her the thunderstruck expressions on the prisoners' faces.

"Blood on my hand      Hate in my heart and there's      Blood on my hands      Stains on my heart and there's      No way I'll ever be clean and there's      No way it won't wash away I'll be stained till the day that I die" - 'Crazy Asian War' from the musical 'Pearls before Swine' (Thursday 14 October, 1965) The President and the Secretary of Defense had been invited to the weekly meeting of the commanders of the Free World Allies forces, held at the headquarters complex of the Military Assistance Command, Vietnam. The had been spirited from the embassy by rapid motorcade to MACV. The journey had been air conditioned behind tinted glass; only for a few seconds entering and leaving the vehicle had the pair seen the direct light of the low, red, morning sun and felt the sticky humidity of the Saigon morning. There were six generals awaiting them in the meeting room, each in a different uniform. It was the range of uniforms that attested to the success of the Battle of the Flags[2]. William Westmoreland was the third American present in the room. The others were General Kim commander of the 'White Horse' division from the Republic of Korea, General Renato De Villa from the Philippines, Major General Dej Potaramik the Royal Thai 'Black Panther' division[3] and Brigadier Ron Hughes commanding the Australian taskforce. The sixth was General Walker, who had recently replaced the short-serving General Cain following his unfortunate accident.[4] The Chief of Staff of the Army of the Republic of Vietnam was not present, the previous officeholder[5] had gone on to better things in the recent coup and had not yet made a new appointment. The commander of the New Zealand 'V' Force was uninvited, it being felt he was a little too junior for such august company. All the generals rose to attention as Johnson and McNamara entered the room, save for Brigadier Hughes whose vision may have been obscured by his broad brimmed slouch hat. The Australian nevertheless appeared to salute although he may have been brushing away flies. The civilians listened intently as the generals discussed strategy. Westmoreland, as the most senior officer, set the ball rolling. "Our aim for this week is to bomb here, here and here," he said, indicating targets to a large map of Indochina with a pointer. General Walker begged to differ. "If guerrillas swim like fishes in the sea of public acceptance, then the simplest way of defeating them is to get the sea to reject the fish. Thus you make the average peasant your friend and you make the average peasant regard the guerrilla as their enemy and you make sure the average peasant is more confident in your ability to protect them than they are in the guerrilla's ability to impose fear." Westmoreland smiled good humouredly, "But Walter, you should know that we are already doing this. We have our Civic Action programs. We tried your Malayan tactics with our strategic hamlets but it just didn't seem work." Brigadier Hughes was finally standing. "Of course it didn't work, sir. Those useless drongos running the strategic hamlets built them miles from the peasants' villages. Being taken from your home, your fields, your livelihood - it was an admission to the Vietnamese that you couldn't look after them." Westmoreland was still indulgent. "Some of those villages were in bandit country. The places were swarming with VC. If we'd tried to protect the peasants there we'd have been putting our boys in danger." "With all due respect sir," the Brigadier spluttered, "Christ all-bloody-mighty! It's the job of soldiers to go into harm's way. Someone shows you a fist, you show 'em a knife. They show you a knife, you show 'em a pistol. They show you a pistol, you show 'em a fifty-cal pigshooter. It's the Australian way!" The President could contain himself no longer, "You Limeys," he began waving at Walker and Hughes. 'Limeys' covered a wide range of people in the Johnsonverse. Limeys practically began at Niagara Falls. "You talk pretty big at how you like to fight but how come you have such a lousy body count?" General Walker was a well-brought-up gentleman and did not laugh. Hughes as an Australian had no such compunctions. While Hughes was still giggling, Walker explained, "Mr President, in the British army we are trained to kill the enemy. Not water buffalo, not women and children unless armed, not people who look like they could be the enemy under certain light conditions; but the enemy. This requires some observation and some care. It also entails no little risk to my men. But it works. We kill the guerrillas that we've told the peasants are their enemies. We don't confuse our message by killing the peasants and then telling them we are their friends. We kill more slowly than your troops but we kill more surely. More importantly we stay on-mission. And our mission is not to produce bodies, it is to strengthen the people and government of South Vietnam to resist subversion." He did not add that killing opponents and supporters of the government willy-nilly and leaving matters to the Deity to sort out actually weakened the government. Typical British understatement. But nevertheless the President was left subdued. General Kim glowered quietly. There had been a frank discussion between Walker and Kim the previous week about the appropriate level of reprisals required when a sniper was operating near a Vietnamese village In the face of the united front of the Commonwealth commanders, Westmoreland gave ground. "Perhaps there is something we can learn from your Malayan tactics. I'll get my staff to prepare a report and it can be an agenda item for next weeks meeting. Now: defoliant. We're going to spray," he pointed at the map once more, "here, here and here."

"See the pretty butterflies as they try to catch the wind      See the city flower people and hear the song they sing      High up in the stratosphere in a magical balloon      There's a lady floating on a stairway to the moon      Everybody's getting high      On the lady's magic carpet ride      Turning on to peace and love      Like a psychedelic love child" - 'Psychedelic Love Child' from the musical 'Pearls before Swine' (Saturday 16 October, 1965) Lyndon Johnson stood beside Robert McNamara as they reviewed the Presidential visit to South Vietnam. "As you know, Bob, I've been thinking long and hard about Vietnam. It's like what General Patton, sadly departed said." What the late General had said was pretty much what Robert had expected. Shorn of the profanity, if you wanted to get them by the hearts-and-minds, you had to get up close and personal. The President went on to explain that he saw the anti-guerrilla operations almost as a sideshow. "It's Uncle Ho and the Northerners that are the real problem. If we bomb 'em, if we grab their balls hard enough, they'll say 'uncle' and we can talk turkey. Whatever Uncle Ho says, the VC'll have to follow along." Satisfied, Johnson shook three times, zipped up and returned to the main body of Airforce One leaving McNamara to flush yet again. By the time McNamara was sitting down on the well-upholstered seat next to the President, he had an idea. "Mr President," he said. Johnson turned his gaze from the window to the Defense Secretary. "Even if the VC are a sideshow," explained McNamara, "they're tying down almost as much of our people as the NVA main force. We know the Brits want to re-fight Malaya but that's so 1950s. This is the era of the electronic brain." McNamara's enthusiasm for information technology was comparable to that of Viscount Stansgate, currently on the other side of the world. "And does an electronic brain tell me what Uncle Ho is thinking?" asked Johnson in straight-talking Texan fashion. "Uh, no sir. But it can tell us who the VC are." "Say what?" McNamara now had Johnson's full attention. "At FoMoCo we used electronic computers to do the payroll, sir. We had tens of thousands of employees. Some union, with special rules and rates for overtime. Some staff, with various pension fund withholdings depending on seniority. It would have kept a regiment of clerks busy without the computer." "So a computer could tell me who's on Uncle Ho's payroll, Bob?" A crafty smile alighted between the President's cheeks. "In a manner of speaking, sir." "Hmm. Did the computer at Ford always get the right answer, Bob?" "Mostly sir. A computer's results are only as good as the information that gets fed in." "Well, we've got the people on the ground to get the right information fed in. We'll show those hoity-toity Brits and their 'fishes swimming in the sea of public acceptance'!" The President reached for a beagle to swing by the ears but there was none aboard. "Now all we need is a name for this thing," he growled. "How about, the Phoenix program, sir?" "I like your thinking, son, naming it after a city will be popular. But let's not give the Goldwater crowd any free kicks." "Philadelphia, sir?" "The City of Brotherly Love? We aren't going to give those Viet Cong a big sloppy kiss[6], we're going to hit them right in the hearts and minds. Let's call it the Dallas program." [If you'll just let me continue.]

[1] As any First Sergeant can tell you, there's no 'F' in 'good Lieutenant'. [2] This Battle of the Flags was an effort to get as many nations as possible fighting on the side of the Free World Allies. The desired image was that of a multi-national intervention to forestall aggression, rather than a lone superpower bereft of support from traditional NATO allies. Not to be confused with the Battle of the Flags fought between Cambridge University students and the parishioners of the Church of St John the Baptist, Our Lady and St Lawrence, Thaxted. [3] Yes, there was a Black Panther division fighting in Vietnam. Would I lie to you? [4] In a more ironic timeline General Robert Henry Cain VC would have died after being introduced to the head of the Saigon police, General Nguyen Ngoc Loan as, "This is General Robert Cain. He's a VC," causing the initially surprised police chief to draw his revolver and shoot Cain in the head. But here it was just a traffic accident on Saigon's chaotic streets. [5] 'Officeholder' seems a like word that you would apply more to a committeeman in Cook County, Illinois. But there you are. [6] Notwithstanding Lyndon Johnson's reputation for earthy language, Robert McNamara's autobiography _D'oh!_ insists that "big sloppy kiss" was the phrase used by the President.