The Battle of Long Tan

by David W. Cameron

  As succinctly put by historian Mark Dapin, ‘Ho was like Stalin’s own Vietnamese Jesus, walking over lakes of blood to demonstrate his divinity. He cultivated an air of sanctity, and an almost holy asceticism, but he was less a socialist saint than a Comintern King Herod, a slaughterer of innocents.’9 Even so, in the south, Diem’s government had made it relatively easy for Ho to penetrate the provinces with propaganda and insurgents, supplying his growing cadres (local leaders) who were eagerly recruiting and invoking the action phase of his insurgency program.

  The communists claimed to be liberating the people from the worst of the Diem regime. Many of the cadres were those who had earlier fled north with the partition of Vietnam; they were now trained and actively encouraged to go back to the south to conduct insurgency operations. They set about selectively targeting local government officials for assassination, killing schoolteachers, village leaders, police officers and members of the military, often in gruesome fashion. Assassination and intimidation continued to be the mainstay of those refusing to bend to the Viet Cong doctrine and often such killings were conducted in the presence of a whole village. Spectacular assassinations took place in and around the provinces of An Giang and Phong Dinh (Mekong Delta region). In the village of Thanh My Tay, ‘armed men appeared in the dead of night, wakened the inhabitants, read a death sentence, and beheaded four young men, whose heads they nailed to the nearest bridge’.10 The security question in the provinces had to be given top priority, but the regime would never come to terms with this issue, as the hinterland outside the heavily urbanised areas of Saigon and some other larger urban areas would mostly remain the domain of the Viet Cong cadres and their growing number of insurgents.

  By 1959 the time was ripe for the counteroffensive phase of Ho’s insurgency. As such, the North Vietnamese Central Committee of the Lao Dong Party authorised the use of protracted armed struggle to overthrow Diem and to stop US assistance from propping up his regime. The Viet Cong now set about building what would become known as the Ho Chi Minh trail, which cut through the eastern borders of Laos and Cambodia, allowing ready movement and infiltration of insurgents and supplies, north and south.11

  In 1960, the Lao Dong Party established the National Front for the Liberation of South Vietnam (NLF) to coordinate the struggle against the RVN. The central committee announced that the NLF had been established to ‘unite closely various classes of South Vietnamese patriotic population in the struggle against the Americans and Diem in accordance with the wishes of the South Vietnamese. This [move] securely guarantees that the Revolution in South Vietnam will quickly and successfully restore peace and carry out the unification of our fatherland.’12 The communists of Ho Chi Minh in North Vietnam who formed the NLF were keen to ensure it was not seen for what it was – a communist insurgency organisation. Its prime purpose was to establish a single organisation around which the anti-Diem activity could cluster. It developed three main forces: self-defence teams and village guerrillas; province and district armed teams; and full-time troop units at the regional level.13

  Reasons why individuals joined the NLF were many and varied – far from all of the members were communists. A broad spectrum of the population joined, representing various religious organisations, nationalists, political representatives, individuals from the professional and academic class, and urban and rural workers concerned with regional and local issues. That said, the NLF was certainly a proxy used by the Lao Dong Party to infiltrate non-communist groups that attached themselves to the nationalist ideals of the NLF, and to play one group off against another. The fundamental objective of the communists in the north in creating the NLF was to achieve political control of the area below the 17th parallel.14

  Truong Nhu Tang, who had by now become a founding member of the NLF, recalled how President Diem and the RVN considered the veterans who had resisted the French and Japanese as ‘rivals for power who had to be crushed. Labeling them all communists or procommunist, he was using the secret police and the blue-shirted Republican Youth to hunt down these people – people who were considered by almost everyone else as freedom fighters. It was a disastrous tactic . . . Diem was irrevocably alienating himself from the emotional nationalism which had been the most potent force in Vietnam for a decade.’15 By contrast, the southern insurgents of the NLF, while far from being universally supported, were often part of the social fabric of rural communities through ties of family, friendship and common interests. Soon the Lao Dong Party, in order to covertly differentiate itself from the NLF, declared that the communists in the south would unite under the banner of the People’s Revolutionary Party. Both, however, were placed under the overall command of the Central Office for South Vietnam (COSVN), which was responsible for organising and supporting the insurgency.16

  Within 18 months NLF guerrilla activity was widespread throughout the RVN, which resulted in a US-backed military coup and the assassination of President Diem in November 1963. By 1964 the position in the south was such that one coup quickly followed another. Buddhist protests, a Montagnard revolt (the Degar or Montagnard are the indigenous peoples of the Central Highlands of Vietnam) and large-scale civil unrest were all evidence of leadership failure – the south was in real danger of fragmenting. Among the most enduring images captured on film during this period were those of Buddhist monks dousing themselves with petrol and becoming ‘human torches’ in protest at the government’s actions.17

  The north was now sending well-trained conventional forces of the People’s Army of Vietnam (also called the North Vietnamese Army, or NVA) to confront the weak and demoralised forces of the south. In mid-1963 generals from Hanoi had arrived in the highlands of the south to act as advisers to or commanders of Viet Cong forces against the RVN.18 Very soon it became increasingly obvious that the insurgency was escalating into a covert invasion of the south by northern forces. It wasn’t long before the situation there became untenable, with any movement beyond Saigon requiring a large military escort. At the same time the US set about increasing its aid to the south, not only in financial terms but in direct military assistance. By 1963 there were 16 000 US advisers and trainers in South Vietnam (Australia also sent a small team initially), while the north was fielding regimental-sized units to the south, showing the impotency of the Republic in defending its own borders and territory beyond Saigon. When the conventional military forces of the south confronted these forces, they invariably suffered badly. The south in 1963 alone was losing on average around 1000 personnel per month to insurgent operations against them, and in September 1964 it suffered 3240 casualties at the hands of the Viet Cong. However, by 1965 desertions were far greater, estimated at around 9000 per month.19

  By early 1965 the US had only two options: direct military intervention, or allow the north to reunify Vietnam under a communist banner. If the US was going to intervene it had to do so now, as Saigon was about to fall. Earlier, in August 1964, President Lyndon Johnson alleged that American warships in the Gulf of Tonkin had been attacked by North Vietnamese patrol boats in international waters, and he ordered American planes to bomb DRV shore installations for the first time. While the north accepted responsibility for the attack on USS Maddox, the subsequent claim by the US of an attack by North Vietnam against USS C. Turner Joy would prove false.20 On 13 February 1965 President Johnson authorised Operation Rolling Thunder, a 30-day bombing campaign against North Vietnam, and a month later US marine and army combat troops were deployed to South Vietnam. Within two months, Australian combat troops would also be on the ground.

  4

  ‘. . . find, fix and finish’

  The conscription Act that sent young Australians to Vietnam was originally invoked in late 1964 to boost military numbers for a likely confrontation with Indonesia over the recent independence of Malaysia. At the time, Australian troops from 2 RAR and 3 RAR were involved in an undeclared war with Indonesia in Malaysian northern Borneo; the government and military were gravely concerned that this might degener
ate into open warfare.

  An earlier review of the Australian Army had resulted in a reduction of the infantry battalion to 841 personnel across all ranks; each battalion was commanded by a lieutenant colonel. The battalion consisted of four infantry companies: Alpha (A), Bravo (B), Charlie (C) and Delta (D), each with 120 men led by a major. Each company had three platoons with 33 men per platoon, led by a lieutenant with a sergeant second in command. Each platoon consisted of three sections of ten men, each commanded by a corporal. In addition, each battalion had a support company (consisting of signallers, mortar crew and assault pioneers) and an administration company. The training and equipping of the battalion was centred on counterinsurgency operations.1

  Throughout the early 1960s the army was losing personnel at an alarming rate, while Australia’s military commitments were growing. Jobs were abundant, and even though the government increased army wages by 30 per cent, jobs that offered plenty of overtime meant the army could not compete. In mid-1965 the army numbered just 22 750 regulars; it needed to be increased to 37 500 to maintain a nine-battalion regiment.2 National conscription – for a two-year period – was brought in to increase the numbers, and unlike previous national-service schemes, this one would enable the soldiers to be sent overseas to serve with the regular army. Conscription meant that the army could now take the pick of the litter. Indeed, a relatively large number of potential conscripts were rejected – 4421 alone in the first ballot – for various reasons.3

  Those accepted were to be fully integrated into the army, with no distinction being made between regulars and ‘nashos’ (national service personnel). However, Private Grant Collins of 5 RAR, a judo champion from South Australia, recalled that their NCOs ‘weren’t really allowed to swear at us [nashos], so they’d yell out “Cons, get your arms up or you’ll be sexually intercoursed!”’ That’s not quite how then-private John Robbins, 6 RAR, remembered his first day at Kapooka. His instructors barked out to one and all of the bewildered recruits: ‘Get over there, you dickhead; not there, you stupid arsehole. What are you, a fuckwit or something? Answer me, you penis-with-ears, and call me sir or I’ll come down on you so fucking hard you won’t get up for a month. Stop laughing, you stupid shit-for-brains. What’s your name, you dopey prick?’4

  Within 12 months, members of the Australian regular army, along with those conscripted into the military under the National Service Scheme, would find themselves in South Vietnam. Most of the national servicemen would be allocated to the infantry as riflemen, which was one of the most dangerous jobs in Vietnam. The rifleman was the most likely to die in Vietnam (along with the sapper), and this would have significant implications in terms of casualties. While they would make up about 33 per cent of the Task Force in Vietnam, 70 per cent of national servicemen ended up in rifle companies as opposed to other arms of service. Even so, the distribution of regulars and nashos within rifle companies remained at about 50 per cent each.5 Bruce Davies, who conducted three one-year tours with 1 RAR and the AATTV (Australian Army Training Team Vietnam), and would go on to write the definitive account of Australia’s involvement in the Vietnam War, provides a more telling comparison. The number of those killed in action (KIA) in the army during the Vietnam War – not including those who died from wounds or other causes – amounted to 172 regular-army recruits and 143 national service personnel. Subtracting the number of those KIA in units in which national servicemen did not usually serve, including in the AATTV and 1 RAR first tour, gives a total of 63 KIA. Subtracting this from the 172 who were KIA provides a total of 109 regular army versus 143 national service personnel, which puts a stark emphasis on the difference between the two enlistment categories.6 Using this data national service personnel accounted for 57 per cent of those infantry KIA. The reasons for this remain unclear.

  Australian defence policy since the conclusion of World War II had been based on a fear of instability in South-East Asia. Many Australians were concerned that communism would take hold, and with the emergence of Communist China in 1949, these fears appeared to be realised: the small nation-states in South-East Asia were in danger of becoming a giant satellite region controlled by Beijing (and Moscow). To help counter this, Australian defence policy was tied to maintaining a formal coalition with either Britain or the US – preferably both. Australia as a middle power would never have the resources to have any meaningful military presence in the region; it needed strong allies to help in its own defence and particularly in the case when ‘push came to shove’ in the region. With the original threat from Japan in World War II (1941–45), and with the Korean War (1950–53), Australia was looking towards the US as its principal ally. While the Australian prime minister, Robert Menzies, still believed the British Commonwealth was the cornerstone of Australian defence policy, the secretary of the defence department, Frederick Shedden, acknowledged at the outbreak of the Korean War that the ‘political considerations of Australian–American relations are very weighty and . . . we must keep with the Americans, short of imperilling the development of our military potential. Briefly, while steering a set course of British Commonwealth co-operation, we may have to do some tacking to keep with the Americans even though the tacking might have the appearance of veering away from the set course.’7

  It was Australia’s and New Zealand’s participation in the Korean War that enabled them to successfully lobby the US for the formation of a military alliance. In return, the US required Australia and New Zealand to recognise Japan as a legitimate power in its own right – America needed Japan to help to fight the war in Korea, and a strong Japan was also seen as vital to help counter the growing power of Communist China. In 1951 the Australia, New Zealand, United States Security Treaty (ANZUS) was signed, coming into effect in 1952. It was viewed very much by the junior partners as an insurance policy against communist aggression.8 John Buckley, an assistant secretary in the Australian department of defence, wrote to Shedden just after the signing of the treaty that it was the most ‘important development in Australian defence in the post-war years . . . [and] he [Buckley] used every means to ensure that the US understood very clearly the extent to which Australia had placed her trust and reliance on the formally agreed terms and applications of the ANZUS Pact.’9

  The Korean War and the active involvement of Communist China in supporting North Korea’s aggression further fuelled the concept of the domino theory. What had formerly been seen by many as a political struggle for self-determination by the Vietnamese from French colonialism in Indochina had by the early 1950s morphed into an international communist threat directed from Beijing and Moscow. The communist north was viewed firmly through the prism of international communism – today North Vietnam, tomorrow the south, followed by Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, Burma, Malaya and Indonesia. Indeed, in June 1954, at the time of the Geneva Conference, the Australian government was so concerned about keeping the US interested in the region that a Cabinet minute stated that the ministers did ‘not underestimate the importance of events in Indochina to Australia . . . [our] . . . destiny in the Pacific is so wrapped up with the US that we should support them even if we believe that the course of action proposed by them is wrong’.10

  By the mid-1960s, Prime Minister Robert Menzies was firm in his belief in the domino theory. Communist aggression against South Vietnam had to be stopped and Australia needed to be seen as directly supporting its American ally. Australia needed the US actively engaged in South-East Asia – Australia (and New Zealand) would have to pay a price for the ANZUS Treaty.11

  On 29 April 1965, Menzies announced in Parliament that he had received a formal request from the government of South Vietnam to provide military assistance to help protect the country from North Vietnamese communist aggression. In fact, the Menzies Government, with the support of the US, had petitioned the South Vietnamese government to request Australia’s assistance in the escalating conflict. Menzies stated that Australia would join the US in sending troops to Vietnam. Three years earlier, the first of
the AATTV had been sent to the RVN; now Australia would be increasing its commitment to supplying combat troops and logistical support to help defend South Vietnam against North Vietnamese aggression.12

  The Viet Cong veterans were confident that the same principles and tactics they had used to defeat the French and undermine security in the RVN would work against the US and her allies. Like the French, the Americans sought a military solution to the communist insurgency – no clear distinction was made between conducting a conventional war and conducting counterinsurgency operations.

  In 1965 US general William Westmoreland was placed in command of all forces in South Vietnam – excluding South Vietnamese forces – and tasked with defeating the communist insurgents as quickly as possible. He would focus on capturing territory, defining battle zones, and establishing lines of communication, bases of operation and rest areas. The control of territory and the killing of Viet Cong defined his tactical operations – crude and brutal tactics of killing the enemy at a greater rate than he could kill you, and a war of attrition, which would later devolve into victory based on body counts. Westmoreland planned to clear South Vietnam of insurgents province by province. The term ‘find, fix and finish’ (search and destroy) was invoked to describe his style of operation.13 Above all else, he would rely on firepower and advanced technology to defeat the insurgency.

  While this style of warfare played to the strength of his forces, it meant that it was the wrong army, in the wrong country, fighting the wrong war. Westmoreland’s tactics would play directly to the strengths of the fluid strategy and tactics of the Viet Cong. His failure would be in applying the same tactics employed during the battles of Europe in World War II to the insurgency in Vietnam. With the arrival of the US, the communist insurgents reverted to small-scale attacks and skirmishes in the jungles and mountains. Counterinsurgency operations require light infantry formations, firepower restraint, and the resolution of political and social problems –which were well beyond the remit or experience of the senior US military commanders on the ground.14