Air University Review,  July-August 1968

Vietnam:
Our World War II Legacy

Major John F. McMahon, Jr.

In these trying times when the frustrations and pent-up emotions concerning the course of the war in Vietnam exacerbate relations among Government officials, politicians, academicians, friends, neighbors, and families, it is essential that we in the military profession not lose sight of the fact that a basic consistency in the objective and stakes involved in Vietnam has existed since the Administration of President Truman. Our present involvement in Vietnam stems from decisions made in the aftermath of the Second World War, not from incidents in the Gulf of Tonkin. The scope of that great war left the United States with political and moral commitments in Asia as well as on the continent of Europe. The conclusion of the Second World War was really the beginning of a protracted struggle on behalf of two diametrically opposed ideologies for the “minds and hearts” of the peoples of the world. The United States became the champion of national independence, and in this role she was compelled to accept the concomitant role of the guarantor of the freedom of independent states from intrusion by unwelcome “aggressors.”

In the course of evolving United States postwar policy, the concept of containment was broached, entertained, and applied. The freedom and independence of less fortunate and less powerful nations became essential bulwarks to the maintenance of U.S. freedom and independence. U.S. policies, of necessity, were founded on calculations of national interest as well as international morality. Containment allowed the United States to prevent what had to be prevented while making possible constructive and progressive trends toward a world order which would be conducive to free societies.

Within the U.S., though, postwar reactions in the form of insular or isolationist tendencies became noticeable. National commitments to such organizations as the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) and Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO) supposedly dispelled any notions of our turning inward, i.e., returning to the bankruptcy of prewar isolationism. The advent of atomic weapons had cast numerous unfamiliar shadows on the international scene. The role to be played by these weapons in the newly evolved policy of containment was cloaked in continuous searching debate. More than ever before, war now presented itself as sterile and brutal, yet the adversary insisted upon warfare as a means to achieving a Communist-dominated society. For the moment, war as an instrument to be used in direct confrontation with the adversary was considered unthinkable. However, war waged on a limited basis and without causing the adversaries to confront one another became an accepted tactic in achieving the overthrow of non-Communist societies. Under the labels of “just” wars or wars of “national liberation,” the Communists sought to neutralize the effect of atomic and nuclear weapons while relying on guerrilla techniques which were to be known as “unconventional” in later references to the conflict in Vietnam. For war to be condoned or utilized as a means to an end, the United States was compelled to rationalize the questions of political utility and morality so as to provide that war, at any level of intensity, would serve a major purpose in both spheres.

In view of the foregoing, our concern for Vietnam is not predicated upon any singular proposition, nor is it a product of irrationality. The U.S. involvement has evolved from the desire to prevent disastrous results in Asia and to make possible constructive and progressive trends in an area of the world that is straining for advancement and recognition. Unfortunately, time and events have focused attention on the territory of Vietnam rather than on the whole of Southeast Asia. New and immensely promising trends are available in the area, but these are in danger of being lost by virtue of our lack of knowledge of history, with a resultant narrowed view of the meaning and purpose of Vietnam. By dwelling upon the postulations of the uninformed and the misinformed, we are in danger of abdicating our role in Asia through being panicked into defending a position which excludes all relevant factors other than Vietnam.

The route from Tokyo Bay to the Gulf of Tonkin has by no means been serene or without frustration. Our current mood concerning Vietnam is highly suggestive of the prevailing mood in 1951-52 concerning Korea. Up to that period, no war in U.S. history had created such a disturbance of conscience and national resolve. The indecisiveness of the situation had caused the American people to become frustrated with the course of the war and the mounting casualty lists. The American people felt that the United States had carried the economic and military burdens for world peace throughout the Second World War, and now in the early 1950’s, a twilight of “no war—no peace,” they found themselves engaged in a most searching and bitter national debate on the foreign policy of the postwar years.

The debate, ranging over a wide area of postwar foreign policy, had emotional roots and overtones deriving from the sweep of American history in the Far East and from the tensions and cross-currents of the Cold War. The Korean War was considered an aberration by many Americans. American disenchantment came even in the face of the harshness and arrogance of the Communist aggression in Korea.

On the other hand, Vietnam presented an entirely different problem. The decision to become irrevocably committed in Vietnam was a product of nearly fifteen years’ concern and policy development. Although the U.S. commitment proceeded very subtly, the public was well aware that the national interest dictated a continuing U.S. presence in Asia. It was hoped that those agencies which possessed the capability to combat insurgency operations would be sufficient to thwart Communist aims. This hope rapidly dissolved, however, as the Communists escalated their efforts to a level akin to open warfare. It became apparent that the U.S. was faced with the possibility of a major and quite disastrous shift in the balance of power in Asia if Vietnam were to be ignored. Thus, in February 1965, the decision was made to continue to pursue U.S. national interests in Asia by meeting the stepped-up Communist aggression in Vietnam. In essence, U.S. policy relative to Southeast Asia had not changed since the introduction of the containment policy in 1946 and its application to Berlin in 1948 and Korea in 1950.

It should be apparent that our involvement in Vietnam is symptomatic of our commitment to foster and preserve freedom and independence in Southeast Asia, and in Asia as a whole. Not only the peace and security of Asia but also the future of the world would be in serious jeopardy if the U.S. were to lose interest in places such as Korea or Southeast Asia (Indochina). It was this determination to keep Asia free that caused the U.S., French, and British delegates in the United Nations Assembly, on 28 January 1952, to issue a joint warning against Chinese Communist aggression in Southeast Asia. The three nations declared that any attempt at aggression would “be a matter of direct and grave concern which would require the most urgent and earnest consideration by the United Nations.”^l On the eve of the Korean armistice in July 1953, Britain joined France and the United States in a statement declaring that the Indochina struggle “is essential to the free world.”²

These two policy statements by the three Western powers left little doubt as to the position these nations took in regard to the threat of Communist aggression in Southeast Asia. The Korean War had been a very unstabilizing factor in Asia. The Chinese Communist armies had joined battle with the Western powers, and for a time it looked as though the United Nations forces were going to be driven out of Korea. The situation was reversed, however, by early May 1951, and a stalemate occurred which was to last until the armistice was signed on 26 July 1953.

If it could be said that there was a “winner” in this “strange” war, then the fact that Communist China had shown her prowess and forced the Western powers to negotiate a settlement was sufficient to qualify the former as having gained at least a greater prestige among the Asian nations. United States policy did not “surrender” Korea. On the contrary, the real damage had been done on 25 June 1950, when the North Korean attack began. The Eisenhower Administration was faced with an irreconcilable situation—the heavy expense involved in manpower and resources to unite a country that had been divided since 1945.

With the conclusion of the Korean War, the stability of Southeast Asia remained as uncertain as ever. The grim issue of Indochina became readily apparent after the truce. Would the Chinese Communist troops, released from the Korean fighting, be used against the French in Indochina? Was there to be a second Communist aggression on another Asian country? These and other questions caused intense concern within the Eisenhower Administration. How could the promises of no war, balanced budgets, tax cuts, and a better life for all be fulfilled if war erupted again in the Far East?

In an attempt to deter this possibility, Secretary of State Dulles used the occasion of an address to the American Legion convention on 2 September 1953 to warn:

The Chinese Communist regime should realize that such a second aggression could not occur without grave consequences which might not be confined to Indochina. I say this soberly in the interests of peace and in the hope of preventing another aggressor miscalculation.³

President Eisenhower had added his voice to the increasing concern over the war in Indochina when a month earlier, speaking in Seattle, he stressed the need to hold Indochina as the key to Southeast Asia.⁴

The United States had by this time become deeply involved in supporting French military operations in Indochina. When the Eisenhower Administration took office, the United States was giving more aid to the anti-Communist forces in Indochina than the aid received by the pro-Communist forces from Red China. Economic and military aid totaling $785 million had been allocated during fiscal 1954, and a planned $1.13 billion was provided for Indochina in the fiscal 1955 budget. In February 1954 it was announced that additional B-26 bombers were being sent to the French in Indochina and that the United States Military Assistance Advisory Group of some 400 personnel was being joined by 200 “volunteer” technicians sent to service the nearly two hundred fighting aircraft the United States had supplied. “Without engaging in combat,” writes Merlo Pusey, “these men notably enhanced the striking power of the French air force and demonstrated the eagerness of the Eisenhower administration to give all the help it could short of actual participation in the war.”⁵

In September 1953 the ill-fated Navarre plan was announced (named after the French commander in Indochina, General HenriEugene Navarre). The purpose of this French—developed plan was to intensify the prosecution of the war in order to break up and destroy the regular enemy forces. An additional sum of $385 million in U.S. aid for supplies and equipment was included in the plan. The French were to train and direct the establishment of a strong Vietnamese army. This plan was never fulfilled; by March 1954 it had collapsed, and the military situation in Indochina was nearing the danger point of a French defeat. Chinese Communist aid to the Vietminh was increasing in volume, and France was fast approaching a domestic political crisis as a result of a public demand, similar to that raised by Americans during the Korean War, calling for an end to the fighting.⁶

The increasing participation of the Unites States in the Indochina war, based on the policy that Indochina was the key to Southeast Asia, created some alarm in Congress. The question of intervention arose in many quarters. The excitement was partially alleviated on 10 February 1954, when the President said that he was “bitterly opposed to ever getting the United States involved in a hot war in the region”, that he could not “conceive of a greater tragedy for America than to get heavily involved…in an all-out war” in Indohina.⁷

Nevertheless, the subject of intervention remained very much the talk of official Washington. On 19 March Secretary Dulles tried to dampen the talk of intervention further when he stated that the “New Look” policy of deterrent or retaliatory action had no application to Indochina, where there had been no “open” aggression. President Eisenhower had intimated two days earlier that Southeast Asia lay “on the fringe or the periphery of our interests.” In all respects it looked as if the importance of Indochina in U.S. policy was being downgraded and the idea of intervention completely discouraged.

With the arrival of General Paul Ely, French Army Chief of Staff, on 20 March 1954, the tone of official comment underwent an abrupt transformation. President Eisenhower, at his 24 March press conference, viewed Southeast Asia as being “of the most transcendent importance” to the United States and the free world. Secretary Dulles “after consultations with Congressional leaders of both parties, and after having advised our principal allies” revealed the Administration’s feelings concerning the Indochina crisis in an address to the Overseas Press Club of America on 29 March 1954:

Under the conditions of today, the imposition on Southeast Asia of the political system of Communist Russia and its Chinese Communist ally by whatever means would be a grave threat to the whole free community. The United States feels that the possibility should not be passively accepted, but should be met by united action. This might have serious risks, but these risks are far less than would face us a few years from now if we dare not be resolute today.⁸

What had caused this sudden return to viewing Indochina as the “key to Southeast Asia”? 

General Ely had come to Washington with desperate news. He frankly told American officials that Indochina was lost if the United States did not intervene decisively.⁹ On the same day, Marquis Childs, in an interview with René Pleven, the French Minister of Defense, was told that the French needed “an additional one thousand bombers and at least three more paratroop divisions” to bring about a victory in Indochina; that France could not provide them-only the United States could provide such a sizable force.¹⁰ The intervention requested by General Ely involved an air strike against the Communist forces beleaguering Dien Bien Phu.

The impact of General Ely’s request had been electric. The Pentagon advised that an air strike by itself would be wholly inadequate. General Matthew B. Ridgway, Army Chief of Staff, was thoroughly opposed to the air strike principle because he believed ground troops sooner or later would have to be committed. To him intervention would have been a “tragic adventure.”¹¹ General Nathan Twining, Chief of Staff of the Air Force, and Admiral Robert Carney, Chief of Naval Operations, both leaned somewhat toward the Ridgway view. Only Admiral Arthur Radford, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, strongly supported an air strike.

Secretary Dulles, in turn, insisted that the United States should not allow itself to be drawn into the war in any manner that would make it appear as an ally of French colonialism. Therefore, if the French would promise Vietnam independence, then Dulles would favor intervention with air power. Lastly President Eisenhower insisted that it would exceed his constitutional powers to enter the Indochina war without Congressional consent. However, American interests in the Pacific would be deeply affected by the loss of Indochina to Communist forces, so both Eisenhower and Dulles sought a way to bring United States power to bear in Indochina which would be both militarily effective and politically acceptable.

On 4 April 1954 President Eisenhower, Secretary Dulles, and Admiral Radford met in the President’s study upstairs at the White House to discuss the crisis in Indochina. The threat of imminent French military disaster confronted the President with the difficult question of whether the United States should intervene with its own armed forces to halt the Communists in Indochina as it had in Korea. The final decision was made: If a collective defense in Indochina could be managed, the United States would participate in the fighting.¹²

The decision to participate had been based on three conditions: (1) that the French would agree to see the finish of the war; (2) that the French government would take steps to grant full independence to Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia; and (3) that Britain, Australia, and New Zealand would join in collective defense. The plan was never effected. France did not have the will to mobilize all its own resources and fight for victory. The British opposed the American plan both politically and militarily; they preferred to await the outcome of the imminent Indochina conference at Geneva and not implement a plan that would imperil the diplomatic negotiations.¹³

On the other hand, the British military opposed intervention on the grounds that an air strike would not be enough. They held that an immediate, large increment of ground forces would be necessary to prevent a rout in the Hanoi-Haiphong area in the north. They declared that ground forces were not available in numbers necessary unless the United States was prepared to take three or four divisions out of Korea at once. Since two divisions had already been removed from Korea for economy purposes by the Eisenhower Administration, this added withdrawal would have exposed South Korea if a general war started.¹⁴

While the debate concerning intervention continued in this country, the French made two last desperate pleas for air support, the last request being made in late April. By this time the situation at Dien Bien Phu had so deteriorated that both Dulles and Radford ruled out an air strike. Now the question of initial intervention with ground troops was added to the Administration’s dilemma.

No less an authority than Vice President Nixon, in an off-the-record statement that very quickly found its way into the newspapers, warned that the United States “as the leader of the free world cannot afford further retreat in Asia” and might even have to send “troops” there. ¹⁵ Admiral Radford, the champion of intervention throughout the Indochina crisis, in a speech on 15 April also called for measures to prevent the loss of Indochina to the Communists.¹⁶ They were firm believers in the “falling dominoes” concept, which was first described by Eisenhower on 7 April 1954:

You have a row of dominoes set up, you knock over the first one and what will happen to the last one is the certainty that it will go over very quickly. So you could have a beginning of a disintegration that would have the most profound influences.¹⁷

Indochina was the first domino, and if it fell, the next to collapse might be Burma, Thailand, Malaya, and Indonesia. It was believed that the “falling dominoes” could even topple into America’s island defense chain of Japan, Formosa, the Philippines, and then southward, threatening Australia and New Zealand.

The sharp division among the Joint Chiefs of Staff concerning intervention in Indochina became known to the President in one of the National Security Council meetings. He managed to have General Ridgway make his own presentation at a later Council meeting. In his memoirs General Ridgway related how with charts, tables, and figures compiled from an on-the-spot evaluation of the Indochina situation by a team of Army experts—engineers, signal and communications specialists, medical officers, and experienced combat leaders who knew how to evaluate terrain in terms of battle tactics—he documented his argument that intervention with air and naval power would inevitably be followed by the necessity for American ground troops. He estimated that seven or eight divisions would have to be committed; and under the then existent manpower conditions, the United States military structure would have been far out of balance, thus leaving the U.S.S.R. an opportunity to strike, possibly in Western Europe or South Korea, as the British military chiefs had reckoned. ¹⁸

Following abandonment of the intervention idea by the National Security Council, a directive was issued by the Secretary of Defense forbidding the service chiefs, the civilian secretaries, and assistant secretaries from writing any newspaper or magazine articles. It looked as if General Ridgway’s presentation had caused President Eisenhower to direct a strategic retreat from the advanced position of intervention to one of seeking a modus vivendi in the Indochina situation.

Many people assumed that diplomatic frustration with the British and the French was the controlling reason for the decision to abandon the idea of intervention in Indochina. However, the impact of the military thinking of the British chiefs of staff as well as the powerful argument presented by General Ridgway more than likely settled the question in the President’s mind. There was little doubt that the United States would have had to supply the preponderance of men and equipment even if France and England joined in a collective effort.¹⁹ Given the low state of its ground forces, the United States could not have successfully undertaken a ground war in Indochina without increasing its mobilization base.

On 7 May 1954, Dien Bien Phu was captured by the Vietminh forces. Free world forces had retreated reluctantly from another confrontation in Asia. The prospect of a new Korea, with higher defense spending, higher taxes, and revived economic controls had caused many Americans to look with dread upon the prospect of intervention. The retrenchment of the initial two years of the Eisenhower Administration had left the United States without a versatile and flexible military establishment. Yet, even as prudence dictated that the United States refrain from unilateral involvement in Southeast Asia, the fundamental policy of guaranteeing the freedom and independence of nations in Asia remained viable. In the words of some observers, military involvement in Southeast Asia in 1954, although justified, “would be the wrong war, at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”²⁰

Southeast Asia continued to concern United States policy-makers throughout the late 1950s and into the early 1960s. With the shift in emphasis from massive-retaliation to limited-war strategy in the 1960s, the national strategy was reoriented towards conventional limited war. The ever present concern for Indochina became of increasing importance in the early 1960s with the increase of insurgent activity in South Vietnam. By late 1964 it was apparent that the U.S. would have to become more markedly involved in Vietnam if the concern expressed in earlier years for the freedom and independence of Asia as a whole was to be quieted. In line with the basic premises of the three preceding Presidents, President Johnson in 1965 was compelled to implement the policy decision to intervene: a decision reaffirmed in 1954 but not implemented by Eisenhower.

Where the Eisenhower Administration had withheld implementation because of the lack of a proper mix of military forces, President Johnson’s Administration acted on the basis that possession of a requisite military capability now afforded the U.S. the opportunity to prevent a North Vietnamese takeover of South Vietnam. It was decided that nothing less than major military measures could possibly hope to stem and reverse the tide which had been rising since 1950.

When one ponders the historical development of our military participation in Southeast Asia, particularly in Vietnam, it is rather obvious that without U.S. military involvement “at the right place and at the right time” Chinese Communist and North Vietnamese domination would have occurred throughout Southeast Asia to the point where a greater conflict under worse circumstances could have resulted. Our presence in Vietnam is historical, inevitable, and an inspiration to the free people of Asia, as well as to the world. History will judge us as to our success or failure in coping with our most significant legacy from World War II.

Hq United States Air Force

Notes

1. New York Times, 29 January 1952.

2. Ibid., 15 July 1953.

3. New York Times, 3 September 1953; also United States Department of State Bulletin, XXIX (14 September 1953), p. 342.

4. New York Times, 5 August 1953.

5. Merlo J. Pusey, Eisenhower the President (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1956), p. 147.

6. Miriam S. Farley, United States Relations with Southeast Asia: With Special Reference to Indochina, 1950-1955 (New York: American Institute of Pacific Relations, 1955), p. 7.

7. Report of President Eisenhower’s news conference, New York Times, 11 February 1954.

8. John Foster Dulles, “Indo-China and the Chinese Communist Regime,” Vital Speeches, XX (15 April 1954), p. 387.

9. Chalmers M. Roberts, “The Day We Didn’t Go to War,” The Reporter, XI (15 September 1954), pp. 31—35. The events of the next few weeks following General Ely’s visit are recorded in this article by Mr. Roberts. The author based his article on facts and circumstantial evidence. It is the only account of this period that has been widely acclaimed as substantially correct.

10. Marquis Childs, The Ragged Edge: The Diary of a Crisis (Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Co., 1955), p. 95. This interview would seem to lend credence to Chalmers Roberts’s account of the Indochina crisis.

11. Matthew B. Ridgway, Soldier (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1956), p. 277.

12. Robert J. Donovan, Eisenhower: The Inside Story (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1956), p. 261.

13. Roscoe Drummond and Gaston Coblentz, Duel at the Brink (Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Co., 1960), pp. 117-18.

14. Childs, pp. 130-31.

15. New York Times, 17 and 18 April 1954.

16. Roberts, p. 32; Childs, p. 159; New York Times, 16 April 1954.

17. New York Times, 8 April 1954.

18. Childs, pp. 154-57; Ridgway, pp. 276-77.

19. Childs, p. 95.

20. James M. Gavin, War and Peace in the Space Age (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1958), p. 217. This same argument was as prevalent throughout the Pentagon in 1954 as it was in 1951.

Contributor

Major John F. McMahon, JR. (M.A., University of North Carolina) is assigned to the Applications Branch, Special Warfare Division, Deputy Directorate of Plans for Policy, Hq USAF. After completion of flying training in 1956, he served as a jet instructor pilot at Greenville AFB Mississippi, and Craig AFB, Alabama. He was on the faculty, Department of Political Science, U.S. Air Force Academy, from 1961 to 1963, when he joined the 366th Tactical Fighter Wing. He served in Vietnam as an F-4C aircraft commander. Major McMahon is a 1967 graduate of the Army Command and General Staff College.

Disclaimer

The conclusions and opinions expressed in this document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression, academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air Force or the Air University.

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