Westmoreland: The General Who Lost Vietnam

by Lewis Sorley

  In June 1962 President John Kennedy came to West Point to deliver the graduation address. His stay included a visit to Quarters 100. Westmoreland wanted his children to dress up for the occasion. Rip was in his baseball uniform, up a tree, and vetoed the change of clothes. The President graciously went to the tree to speak with him.

  The speech Kennedy gave was widely reported at the time and has been quoted ever since, particularly the lines anticipating "another kind of war, new in its intensity, ancient in its origin—war by guerrillas, subversives, insurgents, assassins, war by ambush instead of by combat, by infiltration instead of by aggression, seeking victory by eroding and exhausting the enemy instead of engaging him." That graduating class, and many others, experienced exactly what the President foretold in Vietnam and on other battlefields.

  A CRITICAL OBJECTIVE pursued by Westmoreland as Superintendent was expansion of the size of the Corps of Cadets, which was then fixed at just under 2,500. By contrast, the Naval Academy and the Air Force Academy were authorized about 4,400. It was not lost on Westmoreland that this disparity had an adverse impact when it came to fielding winning football and other sports teams. At the 1962 Army-Navy football game in Philadelphia, President Kennedy sat with Navy during the first half, then moved to the Army side at halftime. Navy was dominating the game. Sitting beside Westmoreland, the President asked him: "Why can't you compete?" Westmoreland cited the disparity in authorized strengths. According to one account, the President's response was: "You get a paper on my desk tomorrow morning." Said Lieutenant General Jack Norton, "I talked to Westy. He jumped on it. He was proud of it."7

  Westmoreland immediately began planning for "an expansion of the Corps of Cadets involving virtually a doubling of the size of the Corps" and building a constituency in support of the new initiative. "With the basic new plan in hand," he said, "the first thing I did was go to see General MacArthur. He was enthusiastic about expanding the Corps, since he believed it was in the national interest to do so. I then flew out to Palm Springs in California to see President Eisenhower, then retired, and had lunch with him. He was also very pleased with the concept and endorsed it. I then cleared it with General Omar Bradley before we made it known to the alumni."8

  The expansion Westmoreland recommended and lobbied so hard for did not actually take place until after he had moved on, but it is clear that he deserved much of the credit—and much of the later blame—for laying the groundwork and generating the political support required to bring it about. Wrote Theodore Crackel in his history of the Military Academy, Westmoreland's commitment to expansion "became the central focus of his superintendency."9

  Lieutenant General Charles Simmons, who was a young faculty officer at the time, observed that "the people who precipitated that change never gave any thought to the issue that they might turn out a different product. They just assumed they would be able to turn out more of the same product. In that they proved to be very mistaken."10 A decade or so after expansion, the rapidly increased size of the Corps was determined to have been a contributory factor in a major honor scandal involving widespread cheating on a graded project by members of one class.11

  THE MILITARY ACADEMY during Westmoreland's superintendency was still an all-male institution, as it would remain until 1976. Soon after that Westmoreland revealed his opposition to coeducation in an oral history interview. "I was aware that there would be political pressures," he acknowledged, "but I thought they would be resisted. I think the academies, the Department of the Army, and the Department of Defense got caught napping on this one and, in my opinion, if they had mounted a countercurrent against it, it was a matter that could have been defeated."12 He discussed it again during a 1980 appearance on a Larry King radio program. "Are you happy about that?" asked King, referring to the presence of women at West Point. "Actually, very frankly, I am not," Westmoreland told him. "I was against this as a matter of principle, but they're there now, and I must say I admire the performance of those that have been able to endure the curriculum and the rigors of the system."

  These views were consistent with Westmoreland's outlook while Superintendent. West Point's ice hockey coach Jack Riley learned about that one time when his daughter Mary Beth said to Westmoreland, "When I grow up I'm going to come to West Point." Westmoreland's reply was blunt: "Over my dead body!"

  THE COMMENCEMENT SPEAKER for the Class of 1963, whose graduation concluded Westmoreland's tour as Superintendent, was—not surprisingly—Westmoreland's longtime patron and mentor, General Maxwell Taylor. At the end of the ceremony Westmoreland administered the oath of office to the new graduates. His copy of the oath, now in his papers, was annotated, after the final words ("so help me God"), with "Hand down!"13

  An unfortunate flap marred Westmoreland's last full day as Superintendent. Apparently he had been returning from the tennis courts and two First Classmen who were sunning themselves on the bleachers did not see him, so they did not leap up and salute. Cadet Richard Chilcoat, soon to be appointed First Captain for the coming year, was then "King of the Beasts," the senior cadet on the detail training new plebes. That night at 11:00 he got a call from Westmoreland, who said he wanted to address the detail the next morning. Chilcoat had everybody in ranks at 6:00 A.M., expecting a stirring departure speech. Instead Westmoreland, standing on the stoops of barracks, harangued them for fifteen minutes on their lack of discipline, lack of military courtesy, and so on. Then, remembered Chilcoat, "He stomped back to his quarters and, an hour later, drove away. This had a permanent, and negative, effect on the Class of 1964." Kitsy's comment to her husband (as she later told a friend): "You never give up, do you?"

  Westmoreland left West Point still a two-star officer, but a short stint as Commanding General of XVIII Airborne Corps at Fort Bragg advanced him to three stars, a rank he would hold only briefly before again being promoted. His tenure at West Point had been notably successful in the views of most, as attested to by a friend in Nashville who informed him that, "from the reports I get, you stand almost as high at the Academy as Kitsy."14

  Beginning in late autumn at his new post, Westmoreland followed his customary practice by distributing copies of his final annual report as Superintendent to a large number of prominent people, both in and out of the military establishment. These included not only the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Army Chief and Vice Chief of Staff, but such personages as Dwight Eisenhower, Bernard Baruch, John J. McCloy, DeWitt Wallace, and dozens of retired generals.

  9. Vietnam

  IN THE SPRING of 1962 a Westmoreland admirer had written to General Maxwell Taylor, advocating longer tenure for Westmoreland at West Point. "I certainly agree with your evaluation of Westmoreland, who is a superior Superintendent," Taylor replied. "Unfortunately, the fact that he is constantly in demand elsewhere makes it a continuing battle to keep him at the Academy." One year later, in the summer of 1963, Westmoreland was given command of the XVIII Airborne Corps, headquartered at Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

  There, on 31 July 1963, he was promoted to lieutenant general and became, as a caption in his photo album states, "For one day—the youngest lieutenant general in the Army." A day later Westmoreland's younger West Point classmate Creighton Abrams was also promoted to three stars.

  When he took command of XVIII Airborne Corps, Westmoreland was very much on home ground. He was a veteran of extended service in both of the corps' two constituent divisions, the 82nd Airborne and the 101st Airborne. But the assignment at Fort Bragg proved to be little more than a way station. In just over six months he would again be reassigned. At least one significant task was accomplished, though, during his short tenure. Secretary of the Army Stephen Ailes recalled that the Army hierarchy had decided to do something about the way black soldiers were treated off base at various posts. Business and civic leaders were to be told that if the Army was not backed on this initiative, the base in their area might have to be closed down. Then the Army leadership called in three commanders, including Westm
oreland, and explained the plan. Ailes knew that Westmoreland was from South Carolina, but remembered his response: "I understand that 100 percent." Then, said Ailes, Westmoreland had a plan in his hands by close of business the next day, and in two weeks such things as the availability of housing for minority soldiers had changed for the better around Fort Bragg.1

  Soon Westmoreland received a call from General Earle Wheeler, the Army Chief of Staff, asking that he come to Washington the next morning. When Westmoreland walked into his office, Wheeler got right to the point. "I don't know whether you've heard it or not, but you are going to Vietnam." Westmoreland later said: "My assignment, as described by General Wheeler and announced to the press, was that I was to be deputy to General Harkins. However, without definitely saying so, General Wheeler relayed to me the impression, which was quite clear, that I was being sent eventually to take over the command."2

  Captain Stephen "Dick" Woods, Westmoreland's senior aide, had accompanied him to Washington. "When he got back on the airplane," Woods recalled, General Westmoreland "confided that he was telling only me, Mrs. Westmoreland, and his corps chief of staff that he would soon be going to Vietnam as the deputy COMUSMACV and, when General Harkins departed, his successor."

  In 1964 President Lyndon Johnson had been offered four candidates to succeed Paul Harkins as Commander, U.S. Military Assistance Command, Vietnam. Besides Westmoreland, the others were Harold K. Johnson (assigned instead to be Army Chief of Staff), Creighton Abrams (who was made Vice Chief of Staff), and Bruce Palmer Jr. (posted as Deputy Chief of Staff for Military Operations).3 Probably Defense Secretary Robert McNamara made the actual choice, as LBJ had been President for only a short time and would not have known the candidates, but it was undoubtedly the influence of General Maxwell Taylor that swung the assignment for him.4

  Brigadier General Amos "Joe" Jordan made a valiant attempt to head off this appointment. He had heard that Westmoreland was being considered for the position. "I was so concerned about this that I went to the Secretary of the Army, Cy[rus] Vance," he said. Jordan knew Vance well and felt that he could approach him on such a matter. He also knew Westmoreland well, having served at West Point as a permanent professor while Westmoreland was Superintendent. "I had extensive contact with him during those years," Jordan told Secretary Vance, "and can tell you it would be a grave mistake to appoint him. He is spit and polish, two up and one back. This is a counterinsurgency war, and he would have no idea of how to deal with it." Vance heard Jordan out, then replied, "Joe, you're too late. We've already made the decision."5

  Predictably, Westmoreland got plenty of advice about the new assignment. "There is need for a man of your drive in Viet Nam at the present time," wrote retired Brigadier General Willard Holbrook Jr., "but please don't allow yourself to be made a scapegoat for a situation for which there may be no solution—we need you too much for high positions in the Army in the years to come." Tom Lambert of the New York Herald Tribune was apparently familiar with the situation on the ground in Vietnam, for he wrote, "Don't let any momentary dismay on arrival there get you down."

  By far the most significant communication Westmoreland received at this juncture, however, came from Major General William Yarborough, then Commanding General of the U.S. Army Special Warfare Center at Fort Bragg. Yarborough sent Westmoreland an eight-page letter, "one classmate to another," telling him that he "was both surprised and disappointed at your rapid departure from Fort Bragg. Had I received any inkling that you were going to leave, I would have made every effort to have passed to you all of the materials, studies and impressions concerning the situation in the Republic of Viet-Nam that we have been gathering for some time."6

  Not having had that opportunity, Yarborough provided a number of important observations in his letter. "I cannot emphasize too greatly that the entire conflict in Southeast Asia is 80 percent in the realm of ideas and only 20 percent in the field of physical conflict," he stressed. "Under no circumstances that I can foresee should US strategy ever be twisted into a 'requirement' for placing US combat divisions into the Vietnamese conflict as long as it retains its present format." Also: "I can almost guarantee you that US divisions... could find no targets of a size or configuration which would warrant division-sized attack in a military sense." Instead: "The key to the beginning of the solution to Viet-Nam's travail now lies in a rising scale of population and resources control." And finally: "Nothing is more futile than a large-scale military sweep through Viet Cong country, since always there must be left behind a tangible symbol of governmental power and authority."7

  Those views proved uncongenial. Westmoreland had already formed a different outlook on the task ahead, one reflected as early as his service for Maxwell Taylor when Taylor was Army Chief of Staff. Westmoreland recalled "the obsession that President Kennedy and General Taylor had with our ability to fight small wars and to counter Khrushchev's strategy involving 'wars of national liberation'" and that this "had a major impact on the attitude of the Army and its preparation for commitment in Southeast Asia."8 As he made clear many times in the years to come, Westmoreland had no intention of being captured or driven by such an outlook in his conduct of the war in Vietnam.

  En route to Vietnam Westmoreland arranged a visit to West Point, where he addressed the Corps of Cadets. From there he made his way to New York to call on General MacArthur, who favored him with an hour-and-a-half-long monologue and some really terrible advice: Treat the South Vietnamese officers you will be advising "as you did your cadets." And then some even worse: "Do not overlook the possibility that in order to defeat the guerrilla you may have to resort to a scorched earth policy." Recalling the visit in his memoirs, Westmoreland gave no indication that he had any problem with either suggestion.

  Naturally he got a number of preparatory briefings in the Pentagon and elsewhere before departing. He then wrote to Congressman Gerald Ford, saying, "the only positive conclusion that I drew from these multiple briefings and consultations is that I will encounter a most complex situation."

  On 17 January 1964 Westmoreland also met for twenty-five minutes with the Joint Chiefs of Staff, where General Earle Wheeler, then Army Chief of Staff, told him that the "most important" thing was that the "war can be lost in Washington if Congress loses faith."9 Commenting on this in his analysis of decision making during the early years of the war, H. R. McMaster concluded that Wheeler was "in essence telling Westmoreland to be really careful of what he says and to portray the war in the most favorable light...."10

  On the way back to North Carolina the small Army aircraft carrying Westmoreland and Kitsy, along with Westmoreland's aide, Captain Woods, had problems with a stuck nose wheel, which collapsed when they touched down for a skidding landing on a foam-covered runway. No injuries were incurred, just a little warm-up for the combat zone.

  Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Westmoreland did not meet with Lyndon Johnson before heading out to Vietnam. Immediately after becoming President the previous November, according to Bill Moyers, LBJ had stated his outlook on the war and its prosecution pretty clearly: "I want 'em to get off their butts and get out in those jungles and whip hell out of some Communists. And then I want 'em to leave me alone, because I've got some bigger things to do right here at home."11

  It is hard, if not impossible, to square such pronouncements with significantly more grandiose aspirations set forth by the administration in almost the same season. Then–Lieutenant General Harold K. Johnson took notes during a 2 March 1964 meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, recording a comment by Chairman Maxwell Taylor as follows: "Was intent of White House that RVN [the Republic of Vietnam] should be used as laboratory, not only for this war but for any insurgency."12

  WESTMORELAND'S AIDE-DE-CAMP, Captain Woods, was due for company command, but he accompanied Westmoreland as far as Hawaii, where he turned him over to the new aide, Captain Dave Palmer (Woods's West Point classmate) for the remainder of the trip to Saigon. "When I first arrived in Vietnam," said Westmoreland
much later, "I frankly was astonished at the state of affairs."13 For the first couple of weeks or so he was accompanied solely by his new aide, with no other staff or assistants. They were billeted in rooms on the top floor of the Rex Hotel in downtown Saigon. When they got back to the hotel after their first day of work, Palmer started toward the elevators. "Let's take the stairs," Westmoreland suggested, so they did, double time. Several floors up, remembered Palmer, "I began thinking to myself, 'I'm armor—what am I doing here?'"

  Soon Kitsy arrived in Saigon—such was the state of the war at the time—along with the two younger children, Rip and Margaret. Stevie remained in boarding school in Washington for the time being. Westmoreland had decreed that another family member, Hannah the dog, would not make the trip, but Kitsy had other ideas. Hannah got a little sidetracked en route and spent an additional day in Bangkok, but eventually she too made it to Saigon and was taken back into the family circle.

  WITHIN DAYS OF Westmoreland's arrival a coup led by Nguyen Khanh ousted Duong Van Minh and his cohorts, who had themselves overthrown President Ngo Dinh Diem (and killed him and his brother) only the past November. Dealing with a shifting cast of leaders became a continuing challenge for Westmoreland. It would take years for a reasonably effective South Vietnamese government to be established, years during which the war effort would suffer accordingly. After Khanh, according to General Bruce Palmer's tabulation, "nine more changes in power occurred during the ensuing ten months, August 1964 to June 1965." At that time General Nguyen Van Thieu became Chief of State and Air Vice Marshal Nguyen Cao Ky the Premier. Subsequently, when a constitution had been adopted and elections held, Thieu was chosen President, a position he held until the very last days of the war.