by Larry Berman
In their first week together, Bud “sucked him dry” because of the wisdom and understanding he possessed. “He was a very devout Buddhist—a man of very high ethical and moral principles. There was not the slightest doubt about his incorruptibility.” It was Chon who put Bud on to the importance of Operation Sea Float for establishing a presence in the resource-rich area at the tip of the Ca Mau Peninsula. “He was a strategist and experienced tactician,” said Bud.
Chon had extensive cross-cultural training, from associating with senior advisors for years and from a year at the Naval War College. Chon insisted that when in front of his Vietnamese sailors, all conversations with Bud be in English. “I, at the very outset, always believed and knew that I had to present myself in the presence of other Vietnamese as seeking Chon’s advice and giving him advice in a subordinate-to-senior role, even though he had one star and I had three, initially. And I was meticulous about that, and, although he never acknowledged that he knew I was doing it, he always permitted me to do it in the presence of his juniors. It was a very helpful thing to him.”
Chon had immediately grasped the significance of what Bud was trying to do. The United States was leaving Vietnam, and his job was to prepare the Vietnamese navy for the responsibility of carrying on the war without the Americans. The Vietnamese were the ones in it for the long haul. “Early in the game it became obvious that a rapid increase in manpower would be necessary and that training centers would need to be enlarged and upgraded in their methods,” Bud wrote to his family.131 The Vietnamese Naval Training Center at Cam Ranh Bay was completely remodeled and began turning out large numbers of sailors qualified to serve in the Brown Water Navy. The Vietnamese Naval Academy at Nha Trang soon had an output five times greater than originally, producing a cadre of motivated and qualified Vietnamese officers and men. “On the whole, I’m very optimistic about the increasing capability of the Vietnamese to take over the responsibility for the operational conduct of the war. With additional training, their logistics and maintenance capabilities should produce a highly effective, self-sufficient combat force,” wrote Bud.132
It was a momentous challenge that also involved expanding the size of the Vietnamese navy from seventeen thousand to over forty thousand. Vietnamese sailors would need to be trained on boat operations, under way maintenance, shore-level maintenance, public works, store keeping, supply, and accounting. The plan involved a turnover of about thirty ships and a thousand small craft during the three-year window. It would require construction of more than forty new facilities, such as operating bases, repair bases, and supply facilities—all accomplished while continuing to fight a war and removing thirty-seven thousand U.S. officers and sailors, who had been carrying the brunt of the fight in brown water and by naval support of the marines. The concept of “sequential turnover” required putting a Vietnamese sailor alongside an American sailor and training him while continuing to prosecute the war.
What most impressed Bud was Chon’s “we can do it” attitude from day one. At first it was extremely hard. The Vietnamese needed to be taught Pidgin English while learning such terms as port, starboard, fire, cease fire, beach, and get under way. A boat school was set up to teach enough basic English to serve aboard a PBR or PCF. Mockups of engines, guns, and other basic items were brought to the school to make certain the new skills were utilized. A personal response program had been created for dealing with cultural clashes and problems. Run by a navy chaplain with a degree in sociology, the program was designed to educate all sailors concerning cultural differences and possible areas of misunderstanding. “In summary, we have many fine officers and men engaged in a most challenging job. All indications are that the enemy is being hurt, and the Vietnamese Navy is well along the road to becoming a very effective force.”133
Vietnamese sailors went directly from school to combat and then returned to teach at the school. “This gives us the opportunity to get additional instructors quickly, and it enabled the Vietnamese sailors to work with and observe U.S. sailors in the direct fire environment,” wrote Bud in a letter to his sister, Saralee. With only a five-member crew on most patrol boats and one South Vietnamese sailor per boat, the Vietnamese needed to pull 20 percent of the load. “This effort has been very rewarding and has given us good insight into the fine quality and high level of competence the Vietnamese Navy develops when given good leadership and training.”
In other letters home, Bud marveled at the initial success of the transition and the performance of the Vietnamese. Admiral Chon’s visits to Sea Float were nostalgic “because he was so visibly, professionally excited by what was going on there, and so fully felt that his judgment was being fulfilled that the people were coming in and settling along the bank there, and that the resources were beginning to flow up to Saigon and improving the GNP of the country.” In Operation Sea Float, Vietnamese sailors were serving side by side with their American comrades. Several of the operations had combined command systems, with a U.S. Navy commander and a Vietnamese navy deputy. Eventually, all operations would have this arrangement, preparing for the day when boats would be manned totally by Vietnamese and Vietnamese officers would take the top spot in each command. Admiral Chon was telling his young officers, “Learn well, because soon it will be yours.” The intent was to create a Vietnamese navy capable of continuing to do alone what they had been doing together with the Americans.134
Bud and Chon agreed that the standard of living of the Vietnamese navy man and his family needed to be improved. ACTOVLOG was a plan to provide the logistic support infrastructure needed by the Vietnamese navy. This involved constructing new bases and training programs for maintenance and supply personnel. It was the birth of a new Vietnamese navy.
Operation Helping Hand was a program to build adequate houses for Vietnamese navy men and their dependents. Another project was animal husbandry, setting up pig and chicken farms at bases. The intent was to increase the amount of protein in the diet and greatly improve economic conditions. Vietnamese were trained in the proper feeding of the livestock. New breeds were introduced with the hope of providing farmers with a future as well as an immediate relief to their food problems. Bud delighted in the news that two pregnant sows at Cam Ranh Bay were named Admiral and Commodore at a formal pig-farm commissioning ceremony. “The number of programs for upgrading the Vietnamese navy that Commodore Chon and I have been successful in implementing has been staggering,” wrote Bud in a letter home. Arriving in An Thoi, the admiral was greeted with a sign, Z-HOUSES, PIGS, FISHES, CHICKENS—A BETTER LIFE FOR THE VIETNAMESE NAVY.135
After one year of ACTOV, the Vietnamese had taken control of approximately one half of the armored boats, one third of the PBRs, and one quarter of the PCFs. Chon and Zumwalt exulted in the largest single turnover to date—more than seventy-five armored boats. “On the whole, I’m very optimistic about the increasing capability of the Vietnamese to take over the responsibility for the operational conduct of the war,” wrote Bud. “With additional training, their logistics and maintenance capabilities should produce a highly effective, self-sufficient combat force.”
Not everyone was happy, though. Rex Rectanus was demoralized by ACTOV, because he had to turn over his intel to the Vietnamese navy. “That’s a demoralizing feeling, totally demoralizing to see everything that you’ve worked for abandoned. We all knew intellectually we had to do it, and not only that, the commander was saying, ‘Not only do you have to do it, you’re going to do it and do it well.’ ”136
Bud’s primary concern and focus by early 1970 was making sure that ACTOV met the goals of Nixon’s Vietnamization program. “We will remain as advisors for some time into the future, with the exact time being dependent on the political situation at home and the progress of the Vietnamese Navy. Our goal is to leave here as rapidly as possible, but to ensure that we leave the Vietnamese Navy as an effective fighting force. In relation to the latter, Commodore Chon is proving to be a very capable CNO and the professionalism of his navy is r
eflecting his excellent leadership. I regard him as our Ace-in-the-Hole and feel confident that his efforts will enable us to redeploy just as rapidly as it is humanly possible.”137
Bud envisioned the Brown Water Navy diminishing in importance as the navy continued to turn over craft and logistic matériel. Whatever its shortcomings may have been, ACTOV was a program designed to meet the requirements of political authority. Certainly the program would have benefited from the luxury of more time for training, but political reality dictated otherwise. The transformation from adolescence to maturity was not without its share of growing pains. Repair and maintenance facilities were not up to par; training the Vietnamese in shipyards took longer than in the States. Expertise in leadership and in technical abilities can be gained only through experience, and experience requires time, but with the rapid pace of expansion, time was not an ally. The Vietnamese, by necessity, continued to rely on American advisors for support in such technical areas as logistics and training. “Hopefully we will soon provide for our own needs,” Chon wrote to Bud.138
Bud had completed eighteen months in command of naval forces in Vietnam when Secretary of the Navy John Chafee requested that he fly to Washington to discuss the war and options for his next assignment. Bud wanted to remain in Vietnam so he could help the South Vietnamese navy complete its transition. He had changed the scope of riverine operations, but much work remained to be done with respect to the turnover of operational boats and other craft. Bud hoped to be selected as the first nonaviator in more than a decade to command the Seventh Fleet, a plum assignment that would also keep him heavily involved in the fighting in Southeast Asia. There was much speculation that Vice Admiral Ike Kidd was going from command of the First Fleet in the Eastern Pacific to the Sixth Fleet operating in the Mediterranean. Bud feared getting Ike’s old job, a less challenging assignment.139
Chafee began their meeting by saying he was interviewing a number of flag officers about future assignments. The secretary’s first question led Bud to think he had the Seventh Fleet. Chafee wanted to know Bud’s attitude regarding the tradition of naval aviators commanding overseas fleets. It was a softball question. Bud spoke about excessive parochialism and said that he believed there was no excuse or rational way to explain it. Bud proposed a rotational basis as a best way of achieving optimum training, development, and sense of community.
Chafee next asked Bud to explain or describe the problems in the navy and how they should be dealt with. Bud saw four interrelated problems, starting with the transition to an all-volunteer navy. Current practices in personnel administration would not work once the draft ceased to provide bodies. Therefore an entirely new approach to personnel administration would be needed in order to improve reenlistment rates, which were at an all-time low. He also made a strong pitch for changing the navy’s image to attract more qualified recruits.
The second major problem involved the modernization of ships and weapons systems. Bud told Chafee he thought the navy had become obsolete since World War II. The dramatic and impressive growth of the Soviet navy posed a serious threat to the U.S. capability to use the seas in war and therefore represented a real threat to the deterrent impact of the U.S. Navy. Modernization was going to require serious belt-tightening as the navy gave up a significant number of current ships and aircraft in order to invest in new weapons systems.
A third problem was the modernization of strategic forces necessitated by the rapid growth of the Soviet Union. The Polaris and Poseidon submarine missile systems were approaching obsolescence—by 1980 the oldest boat would reach the end of its twenty-year life span. Bud thought the second and third problems were interrelated in that the more that was spent for the navy’s contribution to the nation’s strategic second-strike capability, the less there would be for modernizing the nonstrategic part of the navy.
The fourth major problem involved retaining sufficient power vis-à-vis the Soviets. The phaseout of operations from South Vietnam, the expenditures necessary to achieve an all-volunteer navy while simultaneously increasing investments in modernizing the nonstrategic and strategic navy posed a serious leadership challenge. The naval capabilities of the United States were deteriorating in comparison to those of the Soviet Union, and expenditure patterns needed to be reshaped.
Chafee listened intently while Bud answered the questions but kept returning to the field of personnel—people. Speaking passionately about what he had learned from his sailors in Vietnam, Bud provided specific ways of improving morale and reenlistment rates. Bud thought the interview went very well, “although when I left the interview I didn’t know any more than [when] I went in about what my future job might be.”
Bud was next ushered into the office of Chafee’s boss, Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird. Bud had last seen Laird a year earlier in Vietnam, during the secretary’s initial visit in the spring of 1969. Laird came away impressed by the vice admiral, who briefed him on the navy’s strategy in the delta and coastal war as well as on the ACTOV program for the South Vietnamese navy during the transition.140 The fifteen-minute briefing had also addressed the changing riverine operations.141 Laird wanted Bud to meet Henry Kissinger, the national security advisor. Laird called Kissinger to ask if he knew Zumwalt, who “is in charge of Naval Ops in South Vietnam.” When Kissinger said no, Laird filled him in. “He is the person I lean towards for CNO. He is down the rank a bit—a Vice Admiral.” This did not bother Kissinger, who said, “I don’t know the name, but I don’t think it’s a bad idea to go down a few ranks.” Laird said that President Nixon thought the same. Since Zumwalt was in town, Laird asked Kissinger to meet with him so that “you can size him up a little bit . . . this is a great guy. He’s the best of all the Vice Admirals we have. There is no 4-star Admiral I can recommend.” Kissinger replied, “I would like to.”142
Bud was soon in the White House office of Henry Kissinger. After the brief meeting, Kissinger told Laird, “I liked him. I talked to the President about him and he said if you liked him and I liked him we should proceed.”143
CHAPTER 9
THE WATCH BEGINS
The U.S. Navy has been extraordinarily fortunate to have had a leader with your vision, energy and courage during these rather trying times. The Navy is not an easy institution to move, even when it’s for its own good, but you have literally succeeded in bringing it into tune with the times and giving it an up-to-date sense of purpose.
—ADMIRAL WILLIAM J. CROWE, JR.1
While eating breakfast in Saigon on April 12, 1970, Bud received a call from Captain Stansfield Turner, executive assistant to Secretary of the Navy John Chafee. Turner told Bud that the secretary was on the other line waiting to speak with him. Bud knew the call involved discussing his next assignment. Chafee instructed him to catch the next commercial flight to Washington, dressed in civilian clothes. So great was his desire to remain in Vietnam in order to complete the ACTOV transition that Bud visited Abe before departing in order to request that he be allowed to tell Chafee that General Abrams wanted his commander to stay on for another year. “Sure, Bud, you can tell them that, but first listen to what they have to say,” said Abrams. “You never know when those civilian fellows are in trouble and might decide you’re the only man who can do a certain job for them.”2
Flying commercial air in civilian clothes and accompanied by his aide, Flag Lieutenant Mel Stephens, a wartime riverine commander who had earned a Purple Heart and a Silver Star, Bud arrived at Dulles. He was taken to the Georgetown home of Undersecretary of the Navy John Warner while Stephens checked into the Marriott. Bud was under orders to remain incommunicado. Chafee soon arrived at Warner’s home, informing Bud, “You are the one Mel Laird and I have nominated to the President to relieve Tom Moorer as Chief of Naval Operations when the President appoints Tom to relieve General Wheeler as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.”3
Chafee and Laird both wanted a nonaviator as CNO and someone of a younger generation. Laird and Chafee consciously selected someone they ho
ped would be an agent of change to lead the navy through the later part of the century. Both men shared Bud’s values on the most central issues of reform. “Whether or not they were right can be argued, but it should not be argued that I had pulled the wool over anybody’s eyes. I was the alternative chosen and the programs I had said I would initiate, I proceeded to initiate.”4
Upon hearing the news from Chafee, “My heart leaped and my mind raced. . . . There was the thrill of achievement that there would be a capstone, reward and challenge to a professional career. There is a traumatic sense of how lucky I had been so often to be in the right place at the right time, to be observed by my superiors who were able to do something about their perception. There were immediately thoughts of opportunities to carry out programs that had been stored away in the memory tanks throughout the years. The feeling of excitement at the opportunity to pull together a team of people with whom to associate in great work. There was at the same time a feeling of regret that I would have to leave brave comrades to complete our work in South Vietnam, and that the team that had been assembled out there would have to be left for the moment behind. There was an instant reflection on how proud my family would be. . . . I have to confess there was a feeling of pride that the news would justify the confidence of people I revered had put in me over the years and there was also a feeling of concern as to whether or not I would be equal to the challenge.”5
