Original subtitles

- Original file by zfeet - - Resynced by Ornlu Wolfjarl -

JEAN-MARIE CROCKER: Sometimes I would hear a car crunch up in the snow,

and I'd think maybe it would be somebody coming

to give us bad news.

Which was not good for me to think.

It was an underlying anxiety

that I really think was there all the time.

NARRATOR: All his young life, Denton Crocker, Jr....

known as "Mogie" to his family...

had dreamed of serving his country,

of putting his own life on the line

in defense of what he called "individual freedom."

He'd wanted to serve in Vietnam so much

he'd pressured his parents into granting their permission

for him to join the Army before he was 18.

He was eager for combat and pleased when he was assigned

to the 1st Brigade of the celebrated 101st Airborne,

the "Screaming Eagles" who had led the way on D-Day.

But he was quickly disappointed to find himself attached

to battalion headquarters, repairing weapons, making lists,

keeping records.

It was "boring," he wrote home.

MOGIE CROCKER (dramatized): I think perhaps you will understand my disappointment

when you see that there is little sense in being over here

unless one faces the main objective,

the destruction of the VC.

Certainly one feels no sense of accomplishment

when one's friends are facing all the dangers.

JEAN-MARIE CROCKER: I had a map on the back of the living room door.

And I put pins in it every time Denton Jr. moved.

And he moved a lot.

And I knew those names at one time

as well as any area of our own world.

LYNDON JOHNSON: Well, how'd you have a good weekend?

ROBERT McNAMARA: (laughs)

Yeah, I did, Mr. President.

I hope you did too.

JOHNSON: What's your thinking these days?

I haven't talked to you.

What's happening to our pause?

What are our generals saying?

McNAMARA: See, I think you'll find some foreign leaders

will criticize you if you resume bombing.

As a matter of fact, no other intelligence source

that I've seen indicates that Hanoi is even considering

moving toward negotiation

in order to lead us to extend the pause.

Intelligence information...

NARRATOR: As 1966 began, the president of the United States

was just learning the name of the man

who was the most powerful member of the Politburo in Hanoi...

Le Duan.

McNAMARA: ...First Secretary of the Communist Party,

a man named Le Duan... L-E capital D-U-A-N...

who today is putting considerable pressure

on Ho Chi Minh and others to ensure continuing a war

that he thinks they either are winning or can win.

("Masters of War" by The Staple Singers playing)

♪ They're masters of war

♪ You build all the big guns

♪ You build the big planes. ♪

NARRATOR: As they continued to escalate the war,

Johnson and McNamara were frustrated

that American commanders in Vietnam, who had come of age

during World War II and Korea,

were having a hard time making sense

of what was happening on the ground.

In the months and years to come, as the American presence grew,

Hanoi would escalate too,

sending more and more soldiers south,

strengthening its own air defenses,

and recruiting more fighters

from the alienated South Vietnamese countryside.

The Johnson administration was desperately trying

to prop up the government in Saigon and, at the same time,

help that government to somehow win the loyalty

of its own people.

Johnson had tried to forge an international coalition

to defend South Vietnam.

But only five other countries would ever send combat troops...

Australia and New Zealand, Thailand, the Philippines,

and South Korea.

America's most important allies, Britain, France and Canada,

refused to take part and were calling instead for peace talks.

And more and more Americans,

including some of the country's most respected

foreign policy experts,

were beginning to question the way the war was being fought,

whether it could ever be won,

and if the United States should be in Vietnam at all.

(explosion)

As 1966 began, 2,344 Americans had died in Vietnam.

Nearly 200,000 were stationed there,

and more were on their way.

Those soldiers would quickly discover

that the war they were being asked to fight

was not their father's war.

SAM WILSON: We tend to fight the next war

in the same way we fought the last one.

We are prisoners of our own experience.

And many of the things that we learned that worked

in World War II

were not applicable to the war in Vietnam.

We simply thought we'd go in with a sledgehammer

and knock things down, clean them up,

and it would be all over.

It was a kind of an oversimplification

of the problem

combined with our overconfidence that caused us,

I think, to be arrogant.

And it's very, very difficult to dispel ignorance

if you retain arrogance.

STAPLES SINGERS: ♪ I'll stand over your body and make sure that you're dead. ♪

(gavel pounding)

NARRATOR: In early February of 1966,

President Johnson got more bad news.

His old friend, J. William Fulbright,

the powerful chairman

of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee,

planned to hold hearings on the Vietnam War,

and the television networks intended to cover the hearings

from gavel to gavel.

Fulbright, who had once supported the war,

now opposed it.

LBJ was alarmed.

His own advisers had been giving him conflicting advice

about Vietnam for years.

But a public debate about how he was running the war

in front of millions of Americans filled him with dread.

As the hearings got underway,

the president tried to deflect attention

by suddenly announcing he was going to a military conference

in Honolulu, to meet for the first time the two generals

who now headed the Saigon government.

ED HERLIHY: It is a meeting without precedent,

and is designed to strengthen United States determination

to pursue to the end the drive against communist domination

in South Vietnam.

NARRATOR: General Nguyen Van Thieu was the chief of state,

but real power lay with Thieu's bitter rival,

the former head of the South Vietnamese Air Force,

Prime Minister Nguyen Cao Ky.

Ky was "an unguided missile," according to one U.S. diplomat,

known for his flamboyant uniforms,

his gaudy private life, and his public pronouncements.

He once told a reporter that what Vietnam really needed

was "five Hitlers."

PHAN QUANG TUE: How could we allow and accept that to happen?

He was a charlatan.

The man not only has no training,

has no education, but doesn't seem to inter...

be interested in being educated, and proud of his ignorance.

NARRATOR: President Johnson spent most of his time in Honolulu

urging Ky to focus on pacification...

earning the support of the South Vietnamese people

by undertaking economic and social reforms

Americans had been calling for for more than a decade.

Johnson wasn't interested in "high-sounding words"

about progress, he said.

He wanted genuine achievements...

what they called in Texas, "coonskins on the wall."

BUI DIEM: Well, nobody understood what does it mean "coonskin."

And people the Vietnamese at the delegation they ask me,

"You understand what it is?"

And myself I said, "Well, I don't understand."

I have to ask some Americans to explain to me.

And some American friends, they explain to me later on

and only by then the Vietnamese understood.

I happen to hold the point of view

that it isn't going to be too long

before the American people, as a people,

will repudiate our war in Southeast Asia.

MAXWELL TAYLOR: That, of course, is good news

to Hanoi, Senator.

MORSE: Oh, I know that

that's the smear artist that you militarists give to those of us

that have honest differences of opinion with you.

But I don't intend to get down in the gutter with you

and engage in that kind of debate, General.

NARRATOR: Johnson's trip to Honolulu had not distracted

the American public.

They were riveted to the hearings.

And I also think that great countries,

especially this country,

is quite strong enough to engage in a compromise

without losing its standing in the world,

without losing its prestige as a great nation.

On the contrary, I think it would be

one of the greatest victories for us and our prestige

if we could-could be ingenious enough and magnanimous enough

to bring about some kind of a settlement

of this particular struggle.

NARRATOR: Fulbright invited the respected diplomat George Kennan

to testify.

For two decades, his doctrine of containment...

stopping Soviet expansion...

had been the basis of American foreign policy,

and had in some ways been the justification

for leading the United States into its proxy war in Vietnam.

KENNAN: The first point I would like to make

is that if we were not already involved as we are today

in Vietnam,

I would know of no reason

why we should wish to become so involved,

and I could think of several reasons

why we should wish not to.

You have referred to containment here.

How... how can we contain in Vietnam?

We would do better if we really would show ourselves

a little more relaxed and less terrified of what happens

in the...

certainly in the smaller countries of Asia and Africa,

and not jump around like an elephant frightened by a mouse

every time these things occur.

NARRATOR: Johnson was relieved when, at the last moment,

instead of airing Kennan's testimony,

CBS showed reruns ofThe Real McCoys,

The Andy Griffith Show andl Love Lucy.

But NBC kept the cameras running.

This is not only not our business,

but I don't think we can do it successfully.

And I take it by this you mean that

this is simply not a practicable objective,

as I understand it, in this country.

We can't achieve it even with the best of will.

This is correct, and I have a fear

that our thinking about this whole problem is still affected

by some sort of illusions about invincibility on our part.

NARRATOR: Just before the hearings began,

the president had decided to resume the bombing of targets

in North Vietnam.

The 37-day pause that had begun on Christmas Eve 1965

had yielded no hint of Hanoi's willingness

to come to the negotiating table.

In South Vietnam, Viet Cong guerrillas were now believed

to control nearly three-quarters of the country.

But General William Westmoreland,

the American commander, thought his most urgent task

was to destroy the North Vietnamese regular army units

Hanoi was sending South.

Westmoreland's target for the next two years

would be reaching what he called the "crossover point"...

the point at which U.S. and ARVN forces

were killing more enemy troops than could be replaced.

It would be a war of attrition.

But that would require still more American soldiers.

They came from every corner of the country.

MATT HARRISON: I was born at West Point when my dad was on the faculty there.

From my earliest recollection,

West Point was what I wanted to do,

not even particularly because I had an inkling

or a strong desire for a military career.

It's just...

West Point was kind of the height of my ambition.

("On, Brave Old Army Team" playing)

NARRATOR: The son of a colonel who had served in World War II,

Matt Harrison had grown up on Army bases around the world.

For him and his four siblings,

the military was always at the center of their lives.

ANNE HARRISON BOWMAN: You addressed parents "sir" and "ma'am,"

and you said "yes" and not "yeah."

And you answered the phone, "Colonel Harrison's quarters."

We got up every Saturday morning and we dusted the house.

My dad would put on the West Point marching band

and my sister and I would dust around the living room.

NARRATOR: It seemed to Matt's parents

that he could do no wrong.

He was the embodiment of the values they had hoped to instill

in all their children: duty, honor, and country.

HARRISON: The strongest impression I have from my class

and my classmates was they were guys who just were idealists.

And I think guys drawn from little towns

all across the United States had that in common.

It was a time before the questions

about American exceptionalism.

We didn't question.

We believed in what this country stood for,

and we believed that people who had the ability

to lead soldiers should do that.

("Mustang Sally" by Wilson Pickett playing)

PICKETT: ♪ Mustang Sally

♪ Huh!

ROGER HARRIS: I wanted to go with the gladiators.

I wanted to go with the tough guys.

I was born in Boston, in the Roxbury section of Boston.

There were those who would recruit you for gangs

and try to entice you to do things

that-that weren't in the best interest of society.

Let's put it like that.

NARRATOR: Roger Harris dreamed of going to college

on a football scholarship, but was not big enough

to play for his team in high school.

HARRIS: And so I enlisted in the Marine Corps.

And I felt that... that it was a win-win

because, one, if I died, then my mother would be able

to receive the $10,000 insurance policy.

I thought that was a lot of money,

that my mother will be rich if I die.

You know, she'll be rich.

If I live, then I'll be a hero, you know,

and I can come back and get a job.

Naive, dumb, you know?

NARRATOR: John Musgrave was from the Fairmount neighborhood

of Independence, Missouri.

MUSGRAVE: I was 17 and my best friend and I

went down and enlisted in the Marine Corps.

I had always dreamed of being a Marine.

And...

Well, I knew I wasn't going to be a man right away

but I was going to be a Marine, and that was enough.

I'd be doing something mature.

And I'd be doing something that was important.

And there was a war on and I wanted a piece of it.

BILL EHRHART: I grew up in Perkasie, Pennsylvania.

And every Memorial Day

all that generation of World War II would dress up

in their American Legion uniforms and parade around.

And I'd put red, white, and blue crepe paper on my bicycle.

And the kids could ride behind the parade.

NARRATOR: Bill Ehrhart would sign up in part because his father,

a pastor, had not served.

Ehrhart was a gifted student

and in his senior year in high school

was accepted by four colleges.

Had he attended any one of them,

he would have been deferred from the draft.

It all came down to this notion

of I was going to serve my country and be a hero

and have that gorgeous Marine Corps uniform.

And the girls would just be draped around my neck

and nobody would beat me up again.

But at the same time

I would really be serving my country.

It was my chance to be... (sighs)

one doesn't want to trivialize it, but it was my chance to be

the star of my own John Wayne movie.

It was my chance to do what that World War II generation had done

and seemed to be so proud of.

Now I had my turn.

NARRATOR: Wherever they came from,

whatever their reasons for joining the military,

training transformed them.

(United States Marine Band playing "Semper Fidelis" march)

For about the first five weeks at Parris Island,

I was convinced that I was going to die there.

The drill instructors said they were going to kill me.

And they certainly sounded serious.

MUSGRAVE: I grew up in segregated neighborhoods all my life.

So, I'd never met a black person till I arrived at boot camp.

Never stood next to a black person or a Hispanic

or anyone who was Jewish.

I just... they didn't mix where I grew up.

So that was just eye opening.

But when I got to talking to everybody, we were all the same.

We were all working class and poor.

And we all wanted to be Marines real bad.

EHRHART: By the time I graduated,

I felt like I was king of the world.

I was God.

I could do anything.

On that day I became a Marine.

You know, the Marine Corps trains you to be a fighter.

They train you to fight, they train you to kill.

They used to say that if you're a Marine, you can't die

until you kill three Vietnamese.

And I said, "Well, I'm from Roxbury.

If the expectation is three, I'll do ten."

You know, craziness.

(gunshot)

LESLIE GELB: The tendency for a great power is to use

what it's greatest at...

namely its firepower, destructive power.

Dropping a lot of bombs and shooting a lot of artillery

at a distance.

You save lives.

You kill a lot of them, you don't lose a lot of us.

NARRATOR: The central coastal province of Binh Dinh

was home to more than half a million people.

For decades, it had been a guerrilla stronghold,

and in early 1966,

the Viet Cong had been augmented by North Vietnamese regulars,

some 8,000 men in all.

General Westmoreland sent 20,000 American,

South Vietnamese and South Korean troops

storming across the province in pursuit of the enemy

and their sources of supply.

They first dropped leaflets and broadcast from loudspeakers

to warn villagers of the terrible fate

that awaited anyone who fired on their helicopters,

urged them to leave their homes,

promised safe passage to any Viet Cong

who wished to surrender.

Then they called in airstrikes and artillery

and blew the hamlets to bits.

It was the first large-scale search-and-destroy campaign

of the war.

(shouting, gunfire)

The offensive lasted 42 days.

The Army reported 2,389 enemy soldiers killed.

Westmoreland was pleased.

But commanders on the scene were concerned

that despite all the American firepower brought against them,

most of the North Vietnamese regulars had still managed

to escape back into the Central Highlands.

The operation would drive more than 100,000 civilians

from their homes.

Similar search-and-destroy and bombing campaigns...

17 large-scale U.S. offensives in 1966 alone...

would produce a total

of more than three million homeless people

all across the country,

roughly one-fifth of South Vietnam's population.

Since there was no front in Vietnam,

as there had been in the first and second World Wars,

since no ground was ever permanently won or lost,

the American military command in Vietnam... MACV...

fell back more and more on a single grisly measure

of supposed success:

counting corpses.

Body count.

JAMES WILLBANKS: The problem with the war,

as it often is, are the metrics.

It is a situation where if you can't count what's important,

you make what you can count important.

So, in this particular case what you could count

was dead enemy bodies.

JOE GALLOWAY: You don't get details with a body count.

You get numbers.

And the numbers are lies, most of 'em.

If body count is your success mark,

then you're pushing otherwise honorable men, warriors,

to become liars.

ROBERT GARD: If body count

is the measure of success,

then there's the tendency to count every body

as an enemy soldier.

There's a tendency to want to pile up dead bodies

and perhaps to use less discriminate firepower

than you otherwise might

in order to achieve the result

that you're charged with trying to obtain.

(man shouting)

MERRILL McPEAK: Just think about the problem from the North's point of view.

They had to supply the South.

I'm talking about bringing in people, equipment, supplies,

and so forth.

They started from nothing and pushed a road through that...

through an area the size of Massachusetts.

So this is not a trivial amount of real estate

that they took over, built a road on,

and then maintained it.

NARRATOR: For years, Hanoi had smuggled most of its arms and supplies

to the South aboard an improvised fleet of junks,

trawlers and freighters.

But when the U.S. Navy effectively blockaded

the Southern coastline,

the North Vietnamese would be forced to move

almost all of their supplies overland,

through Laos and Cambodia,

neutral countries Hanoi considered

part of the greater battlefield.

Americans called it the Ho Chi Minh Trail.

The North Vietnamese called it Route 559,

after the men and women of the 559th Army Corps,

who were turning it from a braided web of footpaths

into 12,000 tangled miles of jungle roadways

down which men and materiel streamed south.

When they had fought the French,

the Viet Minh had depended on tens of thousands of porters,

then on legions of bicycles.

Now, to offset the growing American presence,

the North Vietnamese used more mechanized transport...

relays of six-wheeled Russian-built trucks

traveling under cover of darkness.

MACV reasoned that if the Ho Chi Minh Trail

could somehow be sufficiently damaged,

the enemy would be unable to sustain itself.

Three million tons of explosives would eventually be dropped

on the Laos portion of the trail alone...

a million more tons than fell on Germany and Japan

during all of World War II.

Some key choke-points were hit so many times

the workers gave them names... "the Gate of Death,"

"Fried Flesh Hill" and "the Gorge of Lost Souls."

To expose enemy traffic,

other aircraft dropped chemical defoliants,

including Agent Orange,

that destroyed thousands of acres of jungle

and turned the earth into what one American pilot called

"bony, lunar dust."

McPEAK: We'd punch a hole in the road and say,

"Ha ha, they'll never get around that one."

And the next day you'd come up, and the hole wouldn't be there;

and there'd be dust on the trees back, you know, 50 meters

in both directions, saying, heavy traffic all night.

NARRATOR: As many as 230,000 teenagers, many of them volunteers,

worked to keep the roads open and the traffic moving.

More than half of them were women.

Le Minh Khue, who had left her home in the North

with a novel by Ernest Hemingway in her backpack,

observed her 17th birthday on the trail.

NARRATOR: Thousands died on the trail from starvation and accidents,

fevers and snakebite and sheer exhaustion,

as well as from the relentless bombing.

(Doug Wamble's "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" playing)

HOWARD K. SMITH (on television): But in this kind of war you never know.

You have to be constantly alert

because you can't tell friends from enemies.

Relax for a moment and your reward may be a grenade

or a hail of bullets.

CAROL CROCKER: I couldn't watch the news.

My parents would be sitting in front of the television

and I would hide in the kitchen.

Of course you don't tell anybody, but it was too much.

I really didn't want to know.

("Smokestack Lightnin'" by Howlin' Wolf playing)

HOWLIN' WOLF: ♪ Oh-oh, smokestack lightnin'.

NARRATOR: Mogie Crocker had spent most of his boyhood

reading about war.

But nothing had prepared him for what he would experience

in Quang Duc Province on the Cambodian border.

He had deliberately fouled up his work

at battalion headquarters so badly

that he had finally been reassigned

to what he wanted most... a combat unit.

HOWLIN' WOLF: ♪ Whoa-oh, tell me, baby

♪ What's the matter with you?

♪ Why don't you hear me cryin'?

♪ Oooh

JEAN-MARIE CROCKER: Not hearing in those days was so difficult.

There'd be at least eight to ten days usually between letters.

So knowing he was in action, you just didn't know what,

you know, might be going on.

NARRATOR: Mogie's battalion commander,

Lieutenant Colonel Henry Emerson,

known as "The Gunfighter,"

was courageous, implacable, relentless.

A few months before Mogie got there,

he had offered a case of whiskey to the first of his men

to bring him the hacked-off head of an enemy soldier.

They did.

For nine days in early May of 1966,

Mogie and his outfit battled nothing but the terrain.

They struggled through a labyrinth of elephant grass

and thorn bushes,

bamboo taller than three men

and triple-canopied jungle so thick

it sometimes took an hour to move 100 feet.

(thunder rumbles)

The monsoon had begun.

Sunlight rarely reached the forest floor.

Finger-long black leeches

caused wounds that quickly became infected.

When Colonel Emerson learned that four companies

of North Vietnamese were preparing an ambush,

he decided to ambush the ambushers.

On May 11, he ordered his men to attack,

backed by massive air and artillery strikes.

Before the fighting ended,

some 2,000 shells had slammed into the enemy positions.

Blood was everywhere, pooled on the ground,

smeared on leaves and grass and bamboo.

There were scores of corpses,

torn to pieces or blown into the earth, hidden in thickets,

half-buried in scooped-out graves.

The earth-shaking concussions

had blown the eyeballs of some of them from their heads.

In the midst of the fighting,

Mogie's squad was moving along a narrow path

when two enemy machine guns opened up on them.

(gunfire)

His closest friend was fatally wounded.

Mogie crouched in front of him, radioed for suppressive fire,

and then, as both machine guns continued shooting,

he carried his dying friend off the battlefield.

For his courage,

he would be awarded the Army Commendation Medal.

In his letters home, Mogie told his family

nothing of what he'd seen or done.

(David Cieri playing "Sound of Silence")

JEAN-MARIE CROCKER: One day when I was at the post office mailing something,

I asked the clerk, "How do they let you know

if your son is wounded?"

It was very hard for me to form those words.

But I just felt I've got to know.

I just felt so suspended in space, in anxiety.

And the man said, "Now, don't ask that.

Don't think about that."

I said, "Well, I have to know."

And he said, "Don't worry, they'll tell you."

(Pete Seeger playing "The Willing Conscript")

SEEGER: ♪ Oh sergeant, I'm a draftee

♪ And I've just arrived in camp ♪

♪ I've come to wear the uniform and join the martial tramp ♪

♪ And I want to do my duty, but one thing I do implore ♪

♪ You must give me lessons, sergeant ♪

♪ For I've never killed before. ♪

PHILIP CAPUTO: I didn't like the war protesters whatever.

I kind of felt that they were privileged, spoiled kids

who may have been protesting because they didn't want to go.

So they leave it to some guy

that maybe got through two years of high school

to go do it for 'em.

BILL ZIMMERMAN: The war by 1966

began to impact the middle class

because the draft calls had to be enlarged.

They couldn't get enough people to volunteer

or draft people out of the working class.

They started drafting people out of college.

And that's when the antiwar movement shifted

from a moral movement to a self-interest movement

driven by people who didn't want to go to war

and their loved ones who didn't want them to go to war.

SEEGER: ♪ And I know that it won't matter ♪

♪ That I've never killed before. ♪

(school bell rings)

NARRATOR: Bill Zimmerman was a graduate student

at the University of Chicago in May of 1966.

The son of Eastern European refugees,

he'd worked for civil rights in Mississippi

and had been opposed to American involvement in Vietnam

since 1963.

The draft was a consuming issue

for young men of Zimmerman's generation.

Since 1942, every male citizen of the United States

had been required to register at age 18.

But of the nearly 27 million American men

who came of age during the Vietnam War,

more than half avoided military service

through exemptions and deferments.

Nearly 500,000 Americans applied

for conscientious objector status

on religious or moral grounds,

six times as many as in World War II.

In all, 170,000 were allowed to perform alternative service

in hospitals, homeless shelters, and schools.

Some were trained as medics and sent to Vietnam.

At least two were killed;

both received the Congressional Medal of Honor.

A million young men served in the Reserves or National Guard

with the expectation they would never be sent into combat.

Reservists and Guardsmen were almost always white,

generally better educated, better connected,

and better paid than draftees.

Interrupting their lives, President Johnson felt,

would have increased opposition to the war.

"If you've got the dough," Gis said, "you don't have to go."

("Backlash Blues" by Nina Simone playing)

The result was an Army heavily skewed

toward minorities and the underprivileged.

SIMONE: ♪ Mr. Backlash, Mr. Backlash

♪ Just who do you think I am?

♪ You raise my taxes, freeze my wages ♪

♪ And send my son to Vietnam.

NARRATOR: For a time, African Americans,

though they represented only 12% of the population,

suffered a disproportionate number of casualties.

Resentment began to grow.

STOKELY CARMICHAEL: We've got to build so much strength

in building our community,

that if they come to get one person,

they going to have to mess with us all.

That's what we got to do!

That's what we go to do.

(applause)

We've got to build so much strength inside our community,

so that when LBJ says, "Come here, boy, to my war,"

we say, "Hell no, we ain't going."

(applause)

SIMONE: ♪ But the world is big.

MUHAMMAD ALI: I'm not going to help nobody

get something my Negroes don't have.

If I'm going to die, I'll die now,

right here fighting you, if I'm going to die.

You my enemy, my enemy is the white people, not Viet Congs,

or Chinese, or Japanese.

You my opposer when I want freedom.

You my opposer when I want justice.

You my opposer when I want equality.

And you want me to go somewhere and fight,

but you won't even stand up for me here at home.

NARRATOR: At first, 10,000 draftees were called up each month,

but in 1966, the growing demand for fresh troops in Vietnam

raised that number to 30,000.

Now, thousands of college students

could no longer expect a deferment.

ZIMMERMAN: And if your rank fell below a certain threshold,

you were yanked out of college.

And the worst that could happen to you is you would be killed

in Vietnam.

So we protested at the University of Chicago

that the university was complicit with this war

by agreeing to supply those rankings to the draft board.

We thought for the first time, you know,

we're really having an impact.

NARRATOR: But a majority of Americans, old and young, supported the war.

The Young Americans for Freedom,

created by the conservative writer William F. Buckley,

held counter-demonstrations on campuses across the country.

CROWD: ♪ His truth is marching on.

DUONG VAN MAI ELLIOTT: I was brought up to believe that the communists were people

who destroy the family, destroy religion,

and people who had no allegiance to our country

but to international communism.

My mother would describe them as (speaking Vietnamese),

which means that these are people

with the head of a water buffalo and the face of a horse,

meaning that they were subhumans, and they were brutal.

But on the other hand I thought they also include people

like my sister Thang and a lot of my cousins.

I couldn't quite reconcile the two images.

But of the two, I think the other image was much stronger

because I was so scared of them.

I thought these people must be really, really horrible people.

That was the frame of mind I had

when I started doing research into the communist movement.

NARRATOR: Duong Van Mai was the daughter of an official

in the South Vietnamese government and was now married

to an American, David Elliott.

Back in 1964, she had gone to work

for the RAND Corporation in Saigon.

The think tank had been commissioned

by Robert McNamara to do a study of enemy prisoners

to find out "Who are the Viet Cong?

And what makes them tick?"

DUONG VAN MAI ELLIOTT: I remember my first interview.

I was by myself.

I was very young and I was going to this pretty grim prison

to interview this high-ranking cadre who had been captured.

I went in thinking I'm going to meet this beast, you know,

this guy with the head of a water buffalo

and the face of a horse.

He walked in and he was very surprised to see me.

(chuckles)

Just as surprised as I was to see him.

Here was a man who had devoted all his life to fight

for what he called a just cause

to free his country of foreign domination,

to reunify the country under just government.

So he really totally believed in it

to the point that he sacrificed his whole life to this cause.

So I left, I was very... I was very impressed with him.

NARRATOR: When the RAND report was presented

to McNamara's top deputies at the Pentagon,

describing the Viet Cong as a dedicated enemy

that "could only be defeated at enormous cost,"

one senior official said, "If what you say is true,

"we're fighting on the wrong side,

the side that's going to lose this war."

(Donovan's "Sunshine Superman" playing)

DONOVAN: ♪ Sunshine came softly through my a-window today ♪

♪ Could've tripped out easy a-but I've a-changed my ways. ♪

STUART HERRINGTON: The overall myth of an American army running roughshod

by policy, by strategy, by tactics to terrorize and murder

and victimize the innocent population of South Vietnam,

that image is the...

it-it doesn't do justice to the young men and women

who served over there.

It's certainly not an accurate depiction

of what our army was about.

NARRATOR: From the first, the Johnson administration understood

that the war could not be won

without convincing poor farmers living in the countryside

that the government in Saigon, not the Viet Cong,

had their best interests at heart.

In addition to the military,

many American aid organizations were at work

in Vietnamese villages.

They dug wells and built windmills,

started schools, introduced improved rice,

provided medical care,

and electrified much of the countryside.

Under pressure from Robert McNamara,

MACV struggled to find ways to measure the progress

of pacification in South Vietnam's 44 provinces,

220 districts and 13,000 hamlets,

and finally came up with the Hamlet Evaluation System.

Soon some 220 U.S. district advisers

were required to produce some 90,000 pages

of data every month... a mountain of information so daunting

no one could make sense of it.

PHILIP BRADY: Everything can be quantified.

So you can literally say, "How pacified is this village?"

"It's 37.5% pacified."

Well, what does that mean?

An American would tell you,

"You know, we haven't had an incident in this village

or this province," whatever.

"The incident rate's going down, and therefore we're winning."

But we would point out that certain troubled areas

in the provinces that we were working in,

we would say simply that it's not pacified

unless you want to consider it pacified by the other side.

HERRINGTON: To the extent that pacification was succeeding,

schools were being built, wells were being cleaned.

And then one fine night

here comes 400 North Vietnamese soldiers into the village,

executes the village chief, kidnaps 12 of the young people

for, you know, service in the revolutionary armed forces,

and the people look at the government and say,

"You promised us you'd protect us, but you didn't stay."

MIKE HEANEY: I was over there early.

I was with a really good unit, who believed in Army traditions,

they believed in honor,

they believed even in treating your enemy humanely

once he was a POW.

NARRATOR: Lieutenant Mike Heaney from Basking Ridge, New Jersey,

was a platoon leader in the 1st Cavalry Division.

He'd arrived late in 1965

and was assigned to a densely populated section

of central Vietnam,

where he found himself surrounded

by North Vietnamese infiltrators

and villagers whose loyalties were unclear.

HEANEY: We never really figured out

how to determine who the enemy was.

Being normal, decent American boys,

you don't just put your rifle up and take a shot at a guy

and try to kill him

unless you're pretty sure this is an enemy.

And if he wasn't armed,

or wasn't menacing you in any way, we wouldn't shoot him.

We'd go through a village

in which there would be no people we could identify

as enemy soldiers, and we'd find a big cache of rice.

So the standing instructions were blow that up, burn it,

destroy it, poison it, whatever.

We really didn't want to do that because it...

You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to look around

and see these people are depending on this.

This is their food.

We were told sometimes to burn thatched dwellings.

And guys would unenthusiastically

try to light a roof.

And as soon as the flame burned out,

they weren't going to try again.

Our hearts really weren't in trying to destroy

civilian food, civilian homes.

It gave us an uneasy feeling about,

"What is this war is about?"

(gunfire)

NARRATOR: Most of the fighting in Vietnam

was the kind Mike Heaney was about to see...

small-scale, close-up, and initiated by the elusive enemy.

The military called it "contact."

"War is hell," grunts liked to say, "but contact is a mother."

HEANEY: The job of an infantry platoon usually is to try to scare up

enemy infantry and take it down.

Really, the tactic was we were acting as bait.

And at some level we knew that.

You know, go walk in the woods and draw fire.

NARRATOR: Six months into his tour,

Heaney undertook what he and his men thought

would be an easy assignment:

climb a slope not far from their base at An Khe

and drive a small enemy mortar unit off a ridge line.

HEANEY: As soon as we started out, we started to get some bad vibes.

We found some boot prints in the mud

at the edge of this landing zone,

and a nice trail, a well-used trail going up the ridge.

I remember talking to one of my squad leaders about this.

And we were both sitting there, "Well, shit, this sucks."

And all of a sudden the very point man,

the first guy in the column, Sergeant Mays,

without saying anything just put his M16 up to his shoulder

and fired off a round.

And he turned around and he said, "VC on the trail.

VC on the trail."

Before I had a chance to digest this, he went down,

shot right through the chest.

(bullet hitting) Boom!

And all of a sudden

what was a very well-laid ambush erupted.

And it was so loud and so unexpected

I was stunned for... for a little bit, you know.

"What the fuck is going on?"

NARRATOR: Heaney's radio operator, Private Terry Carpenter,

got the company commander on the line.

"We've run into something bad," Heaney said.

At that moment, a bullet hit Carpenter in the head.

HEANEY: I knew Terry was down.

I knew Sergeant Mays was down.

I had asked the first machine gun crew to come up

and start laying down machine gun fire.

They got blown away pretty quickly.

They never really had a chance to lay down much fire.

At that point there wasn't anybody left

in my forward unit.

Every one of them had been taken down except me.

Every one.

(voice breaking): Every one had been killed

or mortally wounded at that point.

NARRATOR: Night fell.

What was left of Heaney's company braced

for the assault they assumed would come at dawn.

I was lying there on the perimeter.

I was right next to a dead enemy soldier.

It was kind of my face and his feet

and I kept looking back at him,

because I couldn't see any wounds on him.

And, you know, the strange things you think,

"This guy's going to kill me.

"He's faking it.

"He's waiting until the assault,

then he's going to jump up and kill me."

And I almost shot him again.

Just to make sure he was dead.

NARRATOR: Then the enemy began to lob mortar shells

among Heaney's men.

HEANEY: I felt like somebody had taken a bat

and hit me on my calf, my right calf, as hard as he could.

I was so stunned by the shock of being hit,

and I just drew in a deep breath of air in terrible pain.

I couldn't speak.

Right after the ambush happened,

and I knew I'd lost a bunch of guys,

I said a prayer to God saying, basically,

"If you need any more guys from my platoon, take me.

Don't take any more of my men."

As soon as I said it, I freaked myself out and said,

"Holy shit, can I take that prayer back?"

But it was too late.

I'd-I'd said it.

And as it turns out,

not one more man in my platoon died after that prayer.

NARRATOR: American artillery finally zeroed in on the enemy.

The survivors of Heaney's company stumbled down the hill

to safety.

He was carried to a hospital.

HEANEY: I was lying on my bed sobbing.

And this nurse came over.

She bent over and said, "Lieutenant...

"You... the-the your men are all over the place.

You've gotta stop crying."

And at that point my platoon sergeant,

huge black guy from Detroit whom I loved dearly,

Sergeant Sam Hunt, he came over and he sat down next to me

(voice breaking): and he took my hand

and he said to this nurse,

"Ma'am, this here lieutenant

don't have to stop doing anything."

(crowd shouting angrily)

JOHN LAURENCE: The students are angry now.

And the word is passed

to gather at Saigon's main Buddhist pagoda after dark.

JOHN QUINN: After all these years,

the Vietnamese have learned to live with crises and war.

But they haven't learned yet to live as a nation.

JOHNSON: Now, Dean, what are we going to do?

Are we moving to the point where it would be difficult for us

to ask people to continue to die out there,

this kind of stuff going on every two or three months?

DEAN RUSK: I think not yet, sir, by any means.

I think that this is still a minority problem.

But political talk is not going to be able to get anywhere

if they don't maintain the elements of order.

NARRATOR: On May 15, 1966,

the government of South Vietnam, the country for which

so many Americans were risking their lives,

again seemed on the brink of collapse.

The ascendancy of Prime Minister Ky had dealt a severe blow

to activist Buddhists, who had been demanding

representative government and a negotiated end to the war

since 1963.

When Ky suddenly fired a rival general,

a popular Buddhist commander,

demonstrators poured into the streets of Hue and Danang.

They shut down the port

through which U.S. supplies had been flowing.

Some South Vietnamese soldiers, loyal to the dismissed general,

abandoned the struggle against the communists

and headed for the city.

Angry crowds burned American jeeps.

Signs reading "Peace!" and "Americans Go Home!"

appeared everywhere.

President Johnson was so concerned,

he asked his advisors to ready a fallback position

if the Ky government fell.

If necessary, he said, the U.S. should be prepared

to get out of Vietnam and perhaps

make a stand against communism in Thailand instead.

Ky ordered South Vietnamese soldiers

to surround and subdue Danang,

where they exchanged fire with their former comrades.

As Ky's forces stormed Buddhist pagodas in Danang,

his warplanes strafed dissident troops

occupying the central market.

The rebellion was crushed.

Washington was relieved.

Ky seemed to be back in control.

But from his command post on a hilltop outside the city,

an American Marine lieutenant had watched in disbelief

as two battles unfolded simultaneously:

in the west, his fellow Marines were fighting the Viet Cong;

in the east, the South Vietnamese army

seemed to be at war with itself.

(Simon and Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence" playing)

♪ Hello darkness, my old friend. ♪

MOGIE CROCKER (dramatized): May 16, 1966.

Dear Mom and Dad...

Our operation here on the Cambodian border

has been quite a success.

No doubt you will hear about it on the news.

We keep getting more and more operations thrown at us

so that nothing is very sure.

SIMON AND GARFUNKEL: ♪ ...that was planted in my brain still remains. ♪

CROCKER: Whether I will go out again soon I don't know,

but don't plan on steady mail.

Tell Randy I'm looking forward to seeing his new dog.

I may take a 15-day leave to Tokyo

to keep from cracking up.

SIMON AND GARFUNKEL: ♪ 'Neath the halo of a street lamp. ♪

JEAN-MARIE CROCKER: It was a lovely spring day,

and I opened the letter that said that.

And I was just really devastated

because by that time Vietnam was in total chaos.

There was a continuing changeover

of people in authority at the government in South Vietnam.

And there were protests of the Buddhist monks and others

that...

there were anti-American demonstrations.

I just thought, "Why? Why are we there?"

CAROL CROCKER: I think that letter when my brother

showed a kind of despair

is probably the first time he'd expressed that openly

to the whole family.

It echoed back to the day he'd said to me,

"I don't want to go back."

NARRATOR: To an old high school friend,

Mogie was even more forthcoming.

MOGIE CROCKER (dramatized): Dear Duff,

Since I last wrote, which is several months,

a number of exciting but terribly unpleasant events

have occurred, the worst of which was being pinned down

by two Chinese light machine guns

firing 900 rounds per minute

and having my best friend killed more or less beside me.

Someday I may tell you the whole story

if my nerves aren't completely gone by then.

Actually the latter is just wishful thinking,

in false hope they will take me off the line.

I was fantastically religious for a while,

sending up various and sundry prayers mainly concerned

with trying to stay alive,

but I am once again an atheist until the shooting starts.

(gunfire)

(drums playing up-tempo march cadence)

HARRISON: I really believed

that we had to stop the communist expansion.

I also believed that we were on the side of the angels.

Just as France had provided us with support

during our revolution, we were providing the South Vietnamese

with support during their revolution.

NARRATOR: Matthew Harrison was among the 300 graduates

of the class of 1966 who volunteered to go to Vietnam.

MAN: Rangers!

MEN: Rangers!

MAN: All the way! MEN: All the way!

NARRATOR: But first, he went to Florida to become a Ranger

and endured nine weeks of the most demanding training

the Army had to offer.

MAN: Airborne daddy gonna take a little trip!

MEN: Airborne daddy gonna take a little trip!

NARRATOR: The man in charge was Major Charles A. Beckwith...

Chargin' Charlie...

hero of the siege of Plei Me the year before.

"If a man is bloody stupid," he told each group of newcomers,

"his mother will receive a telegram and it will say,

"'Your son is dead because he's stupid.'

"Let's hope your telegram only reads, 'Your son is dead.'

"With the training we're going to give you here,

"maybe your mother won't receive any telegram at all.

So pay attention."

To make it through,

Harrison and his fellow trainees had to survive

days without sleep; were deprived of food and water,

forced to march up mountains until their feet bled

and patrol through swamps that harbored copperheads

and cottonmouths;

had to learn how to detect booby traps

and outmaneuver veterans masquerading as Viet Cong.

"Expect the unexpected," Beckwith told his trainees

again and again.

"Life is unfair."

Once he'd become a Ranger, Harrison was eager

to get to Vietnam and put into action

the survival and leadership skills he'd been absorbing

for five years.

HARRISON: I remember discussing with my classmates

how horrible it would be to serve in the Army

if everybody just a year ahead of us had served in combat

and we didn't have the opportunity to do that.

I was afraid we were going to win the war too quickly

and I wouldn't have a chance to experience it.

("L'Assassinat De Carala" by Miles Davis playing)

NARRATOR: June 3, 1966, was Mogie Crocker's 19th birthday.

His company was involved in yet another campaign,

aimed at finding and killing North Vietnamese troops

filtering into the Central Highlands from Laos.

As night fell, Mogie and his squad were ordered

to move up toward the crest of a hill

overlooking a besieged ARVN outpost

so that artillery could be brought up

and positioned to shell the enemy in the morning.

They moved slowly, warily up the slope.

Mogie was the point man.

Out of the darkness, a machine gun opened up.

(gunfire)

Denton Crocker, Jr. never made it to the top of the hill.

("One Too Many Mornings" by Bob Dylan playing)

DYLAN: ♪ Down the street the dogs are barkin' ♪

♪ And the day is a-gettin' dark. ♪

JEAN-MARIE CROCKER: It was just a lovely day to be out in our garden.

Candy, our little girl, went to a birthday party.

And the other children were just around the house, I guess.

But shortly after lunchtime, I stepped out on the porch.

I saw two men in uniform coming to the house.

And I knew something terrible had happened.

And I ran down the steps.

And I just grabbed hold of one of them and said,

"Don't tell me. Don't say it.

Not my beautiful boy."

And he just said, "Yes."

DYLAN: ♪ From the crossroads of my doorstep ♪

♪ My eyes start to fade.

CAROL CROCKER: I was sitting on the couch in the living room.

I suddenly heard my mother screaming for my father.

Like in a movie, here came the priest up the stairs

with a soldier, and she's going, "Oh no."

And she's calling my dad.

My reaction was to leap up off the couch,

race out the back door

and I grabbed my little brother's hand

and I just started walking.

I said, "You have to come with me."

I said, "I have something to show you."

I have no idea where I was going.

I just said to myself, "No.

This isn't going to happen."

And something made me turn around

and I walked up to the back of the house from the alley.

And my dad was standing there.

And I fell into his arms and I said,

"Don't let it be true, Dad.

Is it true?"

And he said, "Yes."

I somehow knew that things had changed forever.

That my mom as my mom and my dad as my dad,

it was never going to be quite the same again.

I just, I remember sitting on the couch

and I put my arms around them and I said,

"We'll love each other and we'll be all right."

But I don't know how far it carried.

You know?

We all tried.

DYLAN: ♪ We're both just one too many mornings ♪

♪ And a thousand miles behind.

JEAN-MARIE CROCKER: Carol said to me one day

very shortly after Denton was killed,

probably that very day, "How can you believe in God?"

And I said, "Because we had Mogie."

And I think that his life was a real gift.

It was a privilege to have him.

A friend wrote to me,

"Our children are really only on loan to us,"

which I guess is true.

NARRATOR: Ten days later, an Army captain escorted Mogie's body

to Dick Stone's funeral home.

The family priest had suggested

that Mogie be buried in Saratoga Springs

so that his parents could easily visit his grave.

But they chose Arlington National Cemetery instead.

"A corner of my heart knew," his mother remembered,

"that if he were buried near us,

I would want to claw the ground to retrieve the warmth of him."

(applause)

LYNDON JOHNSON: I hear my friends say,

"I am troubled," and "I am confused,"

and "I am frustrated,"

and all of us can understand those people.

Sometimes I almost develop a stomach ulcer myself,

just listening to them.

And we all wish the war would end.

We all wish the troops would come home.

There is no human being in all this world

who wishes these things to happen,

for peace to come to the world,

more than your president of the United States.

("The Beginning of the End" by Nine Inch Nails playing)

NARRATOR: The military claimed to have killed

some 57,000 enemy soldiers in the first six months of 1966.

But privately the administration worried

that General Westmoreland's "crossover point"...

the moment when more enemy soldiers had been killed

than could be replaced... seemed no nearer.

From the first, the Joint Chiefs had urged the president

to be more aggressive...

to permit troops to pursue the enemy into Laos and Cambodia

and to expand the target list for bombing in North Vietnam.

Johnson still would not allow borders to be crossed

by regular ground troops for fear of bringing China

or even the Soviet Union into the war.

And he was wary of heavier bombing,

fearful of hitting more civilians.

But despite his concern,

the president now agreed to intensify the bombing campaign

called Operation Rolling Thunder.

He approved attacks on oil facilities

all over North Vietnam,

including some sites adjacent to the cities

of Haiphong and Hanoi.

His commanders assured him

that this would be a mortal blow to the enemy,

sure to force the North Vietnamese

to the bargaining table.

Tens of thousands of sorties were flown.

Many bombs hit their intended targets.

But many missed

and fell on residential neighborhoods instead,

just as the president had feared.

JOHNSON: Things are going reasonably well in the South, aren't they?

McNAMARA: Yes, I think so.

Because we think we're taking a heavy toll of them,

but it just scares me to see what we're doing there

with God knows how many airplanes and helicopters

and firepower and going after a bunch of half-starved beggars.

This is what's going on in the South.

And the great danger is that,

that they can keep that up almost indefinitely.

The only thing that'll prevent it, Mr. President,

is their morale breaking.

There's no question but what the troops in the South,

the VC and North Vietnamese,

they know that we're bombing in the North.

And we just have a free rein.

And when they see they're getting killed

in such high rates in the South,

and they see that the supplies are less likely to come down

from the North, I think it will just hurt their morale

a little bit more.

And to me that's the only way to win

because we're not killing enough of them

to make it impossible for the North to continue to fight.

But we are killing enough to destroy the morale

of those people down there

if they think this is going to have to go on forever.

JOHNSON: All right.

Go ahead, Bob.

McPEAK: People talk about collateral damage, but it means something.

You don't want to do collateral damage.

You want to do the damage you want to do.

That's the winning way to do this.

(distant, echoing shouting)

EVERETT ALVAREZ: Even though I was in a cell by myself

and others were in by themselves, we weren't alone.

We were together in this old French prison

halfway around the world from the United States.

Gradually I began to realize this could go on a long time.

A long time to me was like maybe a year or two.

I never dreamed it would be eight-and-a-half years.

NARRATOR: By the summer of 1966, Lieutenant Everett Alvarez,

the first American pilot to have been shot down

over North Vietnam, had been a captive for nearly two years

and had been joined in and around Hanoi

by more than 100 other downed airmen.

Even though the North Vietnamese considered them all

"aggressors," "criminals," and "air pirates"

rather than prisoners of war deserving of humane treatment,

Alvarez and the others had been treated relatively well

at first.

But that hadn't lasted long.

The men were soon forbidden to communicate with one another,

forced to bow to their jailers,

and told that their country had forgotten them.

They were subjected to isolation, beatings,

and hour upon hour of torture,

all aimed at forcing them to admit their guilt

and record statements denouncing the war.

(door slams)

ALVAREZ: When that cell door would open, when they would say,

"You, your turn," you know, the bottom just fell out of you,

and you knew that you may not come back.

The manacles, the ropes, the beatings, they broke bones.

They... they did everything.

My arms turned black

from the cuffs that cut off all circulation.

And they didn't let me die.

They just kept the pain.

That's when I realized that I was not a superhuman.

The first time I broke and gave them something, I felt so low.

I felt so little.

NARRATOR: Some of the men who were forced to record statements

did their best to make their true feelings known back home.

Commander Jeremiah Denton blinked his eyes to spell out

"torture" in Morse code.

On July 6, just one week after American bombs

had first fallen on Hanoi and Haiphong,

jailers rounded up Alvarez and 51 other prisoners,

and, while cameras rolled,

marched them through downtown Hanoi,

past the angry citizens of the city.

ALVAREZ: I could hear the crowd being whipped up.

And as I passed this one fellow with the megaphone,

he looked at me and he yelled to the crowd.

"Alvarez, Alvarez, son of a bitch, son of a bitch!"

People started pressing in, throwing things...

bottles, shoes.

But the guards by this time were having a hard time

keeping the people away.

NARRATOR: The North Vietnamese had hoped to rally

international support for trying the prisoners as war criminals.

It backfired.

People everywhere, even many of those who opposed the war,

sympathized with the stumbling, helpless men.

Plans for public trials were canceled.

The bombing continued, and more American planes were shot down.

The North Vietnamese took pride in capturing American airmen.

Even children were expected to do their part.

(call and response with teacher and children)

TEACHER: Hands up! Hand up!

Hands up!

Hands up!

Hands up!

McPEAK: The bombing around Hanoi and Haiphong

that resulted in so many of our people being POWs

for a long period of time

was fought out of the White House basement,

with the president himself picking targets,

and deciding that we're going to attack now,

and then we're going to pause for awhile.

Airpower was being misused, big time.

NARRATOR: Operation Rolling Thunder did destroy

most of North Vietnam's oil storage facilities.

But the North Vietnamese shifted

most of their oil to underground tanks,

and more arrived every day from China and the Soviet Union.

The bombing was stepped up anyway.

Throughout the North,

enough crude air shelters were fashioned

from concrete pipe buried five feet beneath the ground

to accommodate some 18 million people...

virtually the entire population.

(workers singing in Vietnamese)

Over a million people were said to be working around the clock

to undo what American bombs had done.

When key bridges were destroyed,

they fashioned pontoon bridges overnight

to keep traffic moving.

Crews waited along the roads with heaps of gravel and stone

and stacks of wood to fill bomb craters.

They worked under the slogan "The enemy destroys, we repair.

The enemy destroys, we repair again."

(workers continue singing)

WILLBANKS: Rolling Thunder was the dumbest campaign

ever devised by a human being.

The normal human thing to do

is to think that your enemy thinks like you.

There's the old story, apocryphal,

that when McNamara wants to know

what Ho Chi Minh is thinking, he interviews himself.

What the problem then becomes is

that you keep trying to send messages that are rational

based upon your judgment of rationality,

but have nothing to do with the definition of rationality

on the other side.

So what's irrational to us

is totally rational to the other side

if you've decided that you are going to reunify the Vietnams

no matter what it takes, no matter how many casualties.

NARRATOR: Hanoi did all it could to publicize the damage

American bombs were doing to civilians.

Most Americans dismissed the reports as communist propaganda.

But when Harrison Salisbury of theNew York Times

traveled to North Vietnam and reported on Christmas Day, 1966,

what he had seen,

public doubts about the morality of the war grew.

GELB: A lot of the military we talked to

shared our concerns about how the war was being fought,

and whether or not it could be won.

But when it came to an official position,

it was what we know well,

namely, "We can win this war and we're doing it right.

We just need more... more troops, more bombing."

WILSON: I recall on one instance after I had returned from Vietnam,

I went by to see McNamara.

He was saying, "Well, how is our strategic bombing program

affecting the course of the war?"

I said, "It is not gaining us anything.

Indeed, it is counterproductive."

He said, "What do you mean?"

"Mr. Secretary, the sledgehammer approach is not working.

"These people know that at some point

"we're going to get tired of killing them.

And they think they can outlast us."

And he said, "Why don't people tell me these things?"

I said, "Mr. Secretary, you don't ask."

("I Am a Rock" by Simon and Garfunkel playing)

CRAIG McNAMARA: I think every father and son

struggles in the course of their lives together.

SIMON AND GARFUNKEL: ♪ In a deep and dark December

CRAIG McNAMARA: And I don't think my dad and I were exempt from that.

The interesting thing for me is

the space to talk about Vietnam was never created.

And that was clearly a decision on my father's part.

SIMON AND GARFUNKEL: ♪ I am a rock.

NARRATOR: Craig McNamara, the son of the Secretary of Defense,

was a student at St. Paul's School

in Concord, New Hampshire,

where a teach-in about the war was to be held.

I remember calling my father from a phone booth and saying,

"Dad, we're going to have this experience

"and if there's any support materials

that you think I should present, please let me know."

The support materials didn't come.

I think my father really wanted lovingly to protect me

from the Vietnam experience to the best of his ability.

Well, we know you can't do that.

Things bleed through and it just doesn't happen that way.

Probably, he realized at that time

that the support materials... weren't there.

ROBERT McNAMARA: Today I can tell you that military progress

in the past 12 months has exceeded our expectations.

The Viet Cong have been unable to mount

the offensive that they had planned

designed to cut the country in half at its narrow waist.

The military pressure,

which forces have brought against them,

have prevented them from mounting that offensive

and have inflicted very heavy casualties on them.

No matter how you measure it,

we're better off than we thought we would be at this time.

("Ain't Too Proud To Beg" by the Temptations playing)

♪ I know you want to leave me... ♪

EHRHART: Certainly when I arrived, I'm thinking

I'm involved in a winning enterprise.

I mean, America doesn't lose.

We never lose.

I had sort of not really known much about the War of 1812,

which was... pretty much of a draw,

or the Civil War in which half of America lost,

and the Korean War where we won the first half

and lost the second half.

But I'd been taught America never loses.

NARRATOR: The Marines had been the first American combat troops

to fight in Vietnam.

And they were expected to fight longer

than their Army counterparts... 13 months instead of 12.

Marine privates Bill Ehrhart,

John Musgrave, and Roger Harris all arrived at Danang

in early 1967.

MUSGRAVE: The first thing that assaulted my nose was the foreign smells.

And watching people relieve themselves

by the side of the road

and seeing animals I'd never seen before...

the big water buffaloes.

You know, it was like being on Mars,

because it was totally foreign to me.

But I honestly, in my dumb Missouri kid kind of way,

I thought, "Look at all those foreigners."

And it didn't dawn on me for a little while

that the only foreigner in that area was me.

HARRIS: The feeling was that we were going over to rescue folks.

And that the communists were taking over this country

and they needed help.

But then when we got there we realized that...

that it wasn't exactly like that, you know.

Many of the Vietnamese, they would spit at our trucks

and they'd tell us to go back to America.

And then, you know, we began questioning ourselves,

you know, why are we here?

These people don't want us here.

NARRATOR: Roger Harris was assigned to G Company, 2nd Battalion,

9th Regiment of the 3rd Marine Division at Phu Bai,

outside of Hue.

John Musgrave was first stationed

with the 1st Marine Division at the Danang Airbase.

And Bill Ehrhart joined the 1st Regiment

of the 1st Marine Division near the city of Hoi An.

Private Ehrhart was given a desk job,

collating snippets of information

for the daily intelligence summary.

Three days after he got to Hoi An,

a group of civilian detainees was brought into the compound.

EHRHART: These two amtracs come in the back gate.

The Marines up top start pushing them off.

Their hands are tied, their feet are tied,

they have no way to break their fall.

You literally can hear bones snapping, shoulders dislocate.

And I grab Corporal Sal,

and he says in the absolute flattest, hollowest voice

I've ever heard,

"Ehrhart, you better keep your mouth shut and your eyes open

"till you understand what's going on around here.

"Those trackers, they're hitting mines out there

"on the sand flats every day.

"They're getting killed; they're getting maimed.

"And these people know where those mines are.

"You treat these people nice in front of the trackers

"and those trackers

"will rearrange your head and ass for you

and walk away laughing."

Well, at that point, three days into Vietnam,

I'm thinking, "Whoa.

What the hell is going on here?"

I think it is destroying the good name

and the leadership of the United States.

Furthermore, I believe that the war is militarily unwinnable.

I believe that thousands of American young men

are being asked to die to save Lyndon Johnson's face.

He must know by now that this war is unwinnable,

but he does not know how to give up.

Therefore, I believe that young men are not only justified

but to be thanked if they point this out

by refusing to take part in such an outrageous war any longer.

("Footprints" by Wayne Shorter playing)

NARRATOR: Dr. Benjamin Spock was the best-loved pediatrician

of his time;

millions of American parents had consulted his bestseller,

Baby and Child Care.

In early 1967, he wrote the preface to an article

in the leftist magazine Ramparts

on the impact of American napalm on South Vietnamese children.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was among those who had read it.

He had been agonizing about the war for months.

But he had been reluctant to break openly

with Lyndon Johnson, who had done so much for civil rights.

Now he could no longer stay silent.

MARTIN LUTHER KING: I come to this magnificent house of worship tonight

because my conscience leaves me no other choice.

A time comes when silence is betrayal.

That time has come for us in relation to Vietnam.

("Talking World War III Blues" by Bob Dylan playing)

NARRATOR: Eleven days later, King joined Dr. Spock

and perhaps half a million other protestors

at a massive demonstration in Central Park

organized by a new coalition,

the National Mobilization to End the War in Vietnam.

♪ Some time ago a crazy dream came to me ♪

♪ I dreamt I was walkin' into World War III. ♪

ZIMMERMAN: That was the biggest crowd any of us had ever been in

in our lives.

And when the front of the march got down to the United Nations,

the back of the march had not yet left Central Park.

That's how many people we were.

Not all of the people on that march were students.

And as a result, we all felt we have a chance now.

You know, there's a path that we could see to ending the war.

MARTIN LUTHER KING: Stop the bombing.

Let us save our national honor.

Stop the bombing, and stop the war.

Let us save American lives and Vietnamese lives.

Let us take a single instantaneous step

to the peace table.

Stop the bombing.

NARRATOR: The antiwar movement was growing

in numbers and militancy.

"We are no longer interested in merely protesting the war,"

one organizer said, "we are out to stop it."

Meanwhile, some in the Johnson administration became convinced

the antiwar movement was a communist conspiracy

directed by Moscow.

The FBI and the CIA, which was barred by statute

from operating within the United States,

began infiltrating the movement, wiretapping its leaders,

even inciting violence in order to undercut their appeal.

ZIMMERMAN: At that time, people who supported the war

were fond of saying "My country right or wrong";

"America, love it or leave it."

Or "Better dead than Red."

Those sentiments seemed insane to us.

We don't want to live in a country

that we're going to support whether it's right or wrong.

We want to live in a country

that acts rightly and doesn't act wrongly.

And if our country isn't doing that, it needs to be corrected.

So we had a very different idea of patriotism.

So we began an era in which two groups of Americans,

both thinking that they were acting patriotically,

went to war with each other.

Over 200,000 communist sympathizers

in that park this morning tried to burn this flag,

but they didn't succeed.

RICHARD NIXON: I would put it this way...

there's a monstrous myth abroad,

a myth which Hanoi creates and which it believes,

and that is that the United States is so divided

that if they just hang on that they will win in Washington,

and in the United States the victory that our fighting men

are denying them in field.

WESTMORELAND: As I have said before,

in evaluating the enemy strategy it is evident to me

that he believes our Achilles' heel is our resolve.

NARRATOR: Two weeks after the Manhattan protest,

General Westmoreland addressed a joint session of Congress,

the first general ever to be called home from a battlefield

by his president to do so.

Backed at home by resolve, confidence, patience,

determination, and continued support,

we will prevail in Vietnam over the communist aggressor.

(applause)

NARRATOR: Behind the scenes,

neither Westmoreland nor the administration he served

was confident the United States would prevail.

Westmoreland reported to the president

that according to the latest statistics,

the crossover point had finally been reached that spring,

except in the military sector just south of the DMZ.

But, he warned, the United States was doing little better

than holding its own.

If he were given 200,000 additional troops

and allowed to go into Laos and Cambodia,

he could cut off the Ho Chi Minh Trail

and end the war in two years.

But "When we add divisions," Johnson asked,

"can't the enemy add divisions?

Where does it all end?"

Westmoreland had no answer.

Instead, he and the Joint Chiefs asked the president

to permit them to bomb sites just below the Chinese border,

and to mine the harbors of North Vietnam

to keep Hanoi's Soviet ally from resupplying her by sea.

Meanwhile, Robert McNamara, the chief architect

of American strategy in Vietnam,

had grown less and less confident

in its ultimate success

and in the repeated calls for more men and more bombing

made by the military he oversaw.

GELB: Robert McNamara was the giant of Washington, D.C.

He was the embodiment of intellect and self-confidence.

If there was a problem, there had to be an answer.

And that was his fatal flaw.

The startling thing is

that this man who never seemed to doubt anything he said,

actually began to doubt profoundly what he was doing

in Vietnam.

But we didn't know about it.

NARRATOR: In a private memorandum to the president,

McNamara told Johnson that

"the picture of the world's greatest superpower

"killing or seriously injuring 1,000 non-combatants a week,

"while trying to pound a tiny, backward nation into submission

"on an issue whose merits are hotly disputed

is not a pretty one."

He urged the president to limit troop levels, not raise them,

and to declare an unconditional end to all bombing

north of the 20th parallel.

"The war in Vietnam is acquiring a momentum of its own

that must be stopped," McNamara wrote.

"Dramatic increases in U.S. troop deployments

"and attacks on the North are not necessary

"and are not the answer.

"The enemy can absorb them or counter them,

"bogging us down further

and risking even more serious escalation of the war."

In the end, Johnson tried to find a middle ground.

He expanded the list of bombing targets,

but he refused to mine the harbors

and he agreed to send Westmoreland

only 47,000 more troops,

which would bring the total of U.S. forces in the country

to more than half a million men.

On June 17, 1967, Robert McNamara placed a call

to his military assistant, Lieutenant Colonel Robert Gard.

GARD: My phone rang and the little light showed

it was the secretary on the line.

And I picked it up and said, "Yes, Mr. Secretary?"

And Mr. McNamara said,

"Bob, I want a thorough study done of the background

of our involvement in Vietnam," and hung up the phone.

NARRATOR: Leslie Gelb, a 30-year-old member

of the International Security Affairs staff,

was named to oversee the top-secret analysis

of how key decisions had been made, going all the way back

to the Truman administration.

GELB: McNamara gave us full access to his closet,

in his office, which was like a room.

But all his private papers were there.

And I was picking out the memos,

a lot of which I helped to write.

But there were others in there that I had never seen.

In these memos you began to see Robert McNamara communicating

with the president, alone, his doubts.

It stunned me.

HARRISON: I had thought that we were mostly fighting a guerrilla war.

I didn't know that we were going to be fighting guys like us,

that I had a doppelganger out there

who was leading a rifle platoon, who knew what he was doing,

who was as fully prepared to kill me as I was to kill him.

(band playing a march)

NARRATOR: That June, First Lieutenant Matthew Harrison

finally got his orders to join the 173rd Airborne,

an elite unit ready to rush anywhere they were needed.

They called themselves General Westmoreland's Fire Brigade.

Harrison's arrival at Bien Hoa was a reunion of sorts.

He and seven others from the West Point class of 1966

all found themselves serving in the 2nd Battalion,

including two especially close friends:

Donald Judd and Richard Hood.

HARRISON: As young lieutenants, as 22-year-olds,

we really were idealists and we really were Boy Scouts.

I really felt as though I was uniquely qualified

to lead American soldiers

and that there was nothing more important

than what I was going to be doing.

But when I joined the 173rd,

I think the first day I was there some guy showed me

what looked like a bunch of apricots on a leather thong.

Turns out they were ears, dried, desiccated.

I understood theoretically what it meant to be in a war.

But, of course, no one can really understand it

until they've done it.

("Wild Child" by the Ventures playing)

NARRATOR: Harrison was a platoon leader in Charlie Company.

His West Point classmates served with Alpha Company.

Within a few days,

they were helicoptered into the heart of the Central Highlands

near Dak To, where North Vietnamese regulars

were said to be threatening a Special Forces camp.

They were all airlifted into landing zones

hacked out of the steep, jungle-blanketed slope

of a mountain the Americans called Hill 1338

for its height in meters, with orders to hunt down the enemy.

They walked for two days,

following a well-worn enemy trail,

constantly on the lookout for booby traps or ambushes.

On the evening of June 21,

Harrison's Charlie Company settled in for the night

while his friends in Alpha Company set up camp

a little less than two miles to the south,

along the same slippery jungle path.

No one knew that an entire North Vietnamese battalion...

perhaps 500 men...

was encamped on the other side of a ridgeline,

just a few hundred yards away.

At 6:58 the next morning,

a patrol from Alpha Company stumbled into a squad

of North Vietnamese.

The Americans withdrew

and struggled to establish a perimeter.

Within minutes, they were under attack

from relentless AK-47 automatic fire.

The enemy mounted attack after attack,

drawing closer each time.

Alpha Company radioed for air and artillery support,

but the triple-canopy jungle blocked the spotter's view.

NARRATOR: At around noon, Harrison's unit was ordered to rescue

the trapped men of Alpha Company.

HARRISON: It was mountainous terrain.

We were carrying two bodies

along with a bunch of engineer equipment.

And we could not push down the couple of hundred meters

to where the most of the fighting had taken place.

(explosion)

NARRATOR: The going was steep and slippery.

North Vietnamese troops,

now entrenched along both sides of the trail,

prevented Matt Harrison and his men from reaching Alpha Company.

At dusk, the shooting died down,

and they dug in at the top of a ridge

and did their best to sleep.

HARRISON: So we lay there on the night of June 22

and we could hear the screams of the wounded down the hill

as the North Vietnamese went around and shot them.

NARRATOR: By dawn, the enemy had melted away.

Harrison and his platoon crept down the hillside

and reached what was left of Alpha Company.

Out of 137 men, 76 lay dead along the path.

Forty-three had been shot in the head at close range.

Ears had been cut from some; eyes gouged out;

ring fingers missing.

Twenty-three more men were wounded.

Harrison found his classmates, Donald Judd and Richard Hood,

among the dead.

HARRISON: This was my introduction to war.

This was my welcome to Vietnam.

We spent the rest of the day putting those bodies

into body bags and getting them out of there.

Getting-getting killed is forever.

And, um, that was something that I had known theoretically

but I now understood particularly

when I put my two classmates in body bags,

guys that I had gone to school with for four years

and were good friends and who just the week before

we had been drinking beer and ribbing each other

and these guys were now gone.

NARRATOR: Charlie Company found

just nine or ten North Vietnamese bodies.

Harrison and his men were ordered to search

the nearby hillsides for more enemy dead,

who commanders assumed had been killed by U.S. artillery.

MACV needed its body count.

HARRISON: We never located them and I believe today

that we didn't locate them because they weren't there.

I think we just took a terrible loss on June 22.

To admit that a rifle company in the 173rd had been wiped out

by the North Vietnamese was not something

our leaders were prepared to do.

So we had to sell ourselves and we had to sell the public

on the idea that we had inflicted casualties

on the North Vietnamese as severe

as they had inflicted on us.

NARRATOR: An officer told a reporter that the shattered rifle company

had killed 475 enemy soldiers.

When another officer suggested to General Westmoreland

that the figure seemed too high to be believable,

he replied, "Too late.

It's already gone out."

HARRISON: Within a few days after the battle,

Westmoreland came up to speak

to what we thought of ourselves as his brigade.

And he hopped up on a hood of a jeep in very crisp fatigues

looking every inch the battle commander

and gave us a pep talk and told us how proud he was

and what a magnificent job we had done.

But by then I had more than just a suspicion

that this was a fairy tale, that Westmoreland was wrong

and I didn't know whether he knew he was wrong

or whether he believed what he was being told

and wanted to believe.

But this was the first time that I had to come to grips

with the fact that the leadership

was either out of touch or was lying.

("One Too Many Mornings" by Bob Dylan playing)

DYLAN: ♪ Down the street the dogs are barkin' ♪

♪ And the day is a-gettin' dark. ♪

CAROL CROCKER: I remember a very difficult conversation I had

with a girl who had really been a best friend of mine.

And the talk turned to Vietnam.

And I remember her looking at me and saying,

"My father says that you can't listen to people

"who've lost someone in the war

"because they're going to support it

to justify that person's death."

I felt like she'd hit me in the stomach.

But I knew at that moment there were some factions developing

and this wasn't going to be an easy path to walk;

that people were going to have opinions

about my brother's death

that in some ways had nothing to do with his death for me.

("The Sound of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkel playing)

♪ Hello darkness, my old friend ♪

♪ I've come to talk with you again ♪

♪ Because a vision softly creeping ♪

♪ Left its seeds while I was sleeping ♪

♪ And the vision that was planted in my brain ♪

♪ Still remains

♪ Within the sound of silence

♪ In restless dreams I walked alone ♪

♪ Narrow streets of cobblestone ♪

♪ 'Neath the halo of a street lamp ♪

♪ I turned my collar to the cold and damp ♪

♪ When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light ♪

♪ That split the night

♪ And touched the sound of silence ♪

♪ And in the naked light I saw

♪ Ten thousand people, maybe more ♪

♪ People talking without speaking ♪

♪ People hearing without listening ♪

♪ People writing songs that voices never share ♪

♪ And no one dared

♪ Disturb the sound of silence

♪ And the people bowed and prayed ♪

♪ To the neon god they made

♪ And the sign flashed out its warning ♪

♪ In the words that it was forming ♪

♪ And the signs said

♪ The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls ♪

♪ And tenement halls

♪ And whisper'd in the sounds of silence. ♪