What was puzzling to Simons was that there was no way those people in that first compound were Vietnamese. For one thing, they were too big. They could have been Chinese, but he doubted that. They were still too tall. He was convinced they were Europeans, and that meant either Russians or East Germans. Also, as far as he could discern, they had not effectively returned fire either because they were too shocked or most were not armed. Probably the latter. There was no resistance at the Son Tay Prison Camp either. North Vietnam might be a hollow shell militarily. It just might be. He had to make some phone calls and see some people when he got back home.
The Pentagon: January 29, 1970
Bull Simons made his way to the office of an old friend, who was now the Vice Chief of Staff of the United States Army. Simons had an idea, and he had not talked to anyone about it. This was going to be the first go round of this one. The Vice Chief of Staff and he went back a long ways, and he was asking a Big One to see him like this. It was unofficial, it was quick, and the Chief of Staff, who did not like Simons, and the feeling was mutual, would not have liked what he had to say. The Vice Chief might not like it either, but at least he would listen. What Bull Simons wanted was a meeting with the President. He probably would not get it, and he just might go out of here ordered to retire, but he had to try. Young men were dying in rice paddies and jungle in South Vietnam, fighting a war the country did not want to win and was busting a gut to get out of. His idea just might accomplish both tasks much sooner than anyone expected. Win or lose, this was his last mission anyway. It was time to retire; he was just getting too old for this kind of fun and games.
Office of the Vice Chief of Staff, The Pentagon: January 29, 1970
“Bull, are you out of your mind? You can’t believe for a minute that the President will buy this. Kissinger will laugh you out of the White House and then both you and I will be relieved for being a couple of smartasses, of just being plain naïve, or both.”
“Sir, you know I’m not out of my mind. I’m telling you they don’t have enough stuff on the ground in North Vietnam to stop a sick cat. The whole damned North Vietnamese army is in the South, or in Cambodia, waiting for us to leave. We can do this if we have the guts for it.”
“That’s the whole point, Bull, the political will does not exist. I believe you, the Chief of Staff might believe you, and undoubtedly the President will. They just won’t do it.”
“Aren’t they planning to invade Cambodia anyway in April?”
Shocked, the Vice Chief of Staff shouted: “How the hell did you find out about that? Wait,” holding up his hand and looking away: “Don’t tell me. If you do, then I’ll have to fire somebody for not keeping his damned mouth shut.”
“Sir, this will work. You know it will. We have to do it for one reason: Those boys fighting and dying in that godforsaken country for the past nine years. If we quit, and that’s what it looks like we’re going to do, then it’s all for nothing and we’ve broken faith with our own people. We can use the Cambodia thing to mask what we really want to do. It will suck them down into the south, while we walk in their front door.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Bull, and you know it. Don’t you think I know that? It makes me sick to think about it.”
“Then, Charlie, do something about it. What do you think you have those four stars for? We owe those troops and their commanders to do something to end this mess. And end it with a win. At least we ought to try.”
“Dammit, don’t you ever talk to me like that—you know me better—don’t you ever say anything like that again, not to me!”
Ignoring the outburst, and standing up to his full height, wearing his Alphas and all his myriad ribbons, Bull Simons came to attention and stated very slowly and succinctly: “Sir, I request permission to see the President of the United States on a matter of national security.”
“Permission granted you sonofabitch. Maybe it’s time we both retired and went fishing.”
“Are we going to tell the Chief of Staff?”
“Hell, no. He wouldn’t listen to us anyway. Besides, he’s on leave, and that gives us an excuse, as I’m acting Chief of Staff.”1
The Oval Office: January 29, 1970
“Come in, gentlemen and sit down please.”
The President of the United States, an abrupt, somewhat ill at ease, and much shorter man than the two soldiers, beckoned them in to the Oval Office. The two soldiers sat together on one side of the coffee table, the President and his National Security Advisor, Henry Kissinger, on the other. Just as they sat down, the door opened from the outer office and the Army Chief of Staff and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff marched tight-lipped into the room. The Chairman’s face was blank and did not demonstrate the open hostility the Chief’s did.
The Chief of Staff and Chairman both nodded to the President and Kissinger, and the Chief gave the Vice Chief and Colonel Simons an icy, irate look that told of his great displeasure at the two of them going over his head. His withering glare told them: “When we get out of here you’re through.”
“Now that the entire cast is assembled,” the President said: “Perhaps, you could tell us what this is all about?”
“Sir,” the Vice Chief began: “Colonel Simons has two things for you. One concerns the security of the United States and the other is a proposal.”
The President and his advisor both looked at Simons simultaneously. “They call you Bull, don’t they Colonel?” the President asked.
“Yes sir, they do.”
“OK, then, Bull, let’s have it.”
“Sir, as you’ve undoubtedly been briefed on the Son Tay mission, I’ll forego most of that portion. As you know, my helicopter landed in the wrong compound initially. It was about 400 yards away, and in an identical, from the air anyway, compound. As the aircraft landed and we unassed the bird…” At the “colloquial” use of normal service language, the Chief of Staff groaned and rolled his eyes. Bull Simons looked at him in disgust. “As we unassed the bird, Mr President, we ran into an enemy compound full of about 200 personnel running out of barracks, shouting and starting to shoot. There were only 20 of us, so we opened up as soon as we got off the bird and did not stop firing until there was no one moving in the compound but us. The miniguns on the bird did most of the work. The ground was literally covered with dead and dying, and we immediately started checking bodies until the aircrew screamed at us to leave. We got on the aircraft and left to continue the mission. We were not on the ground more than five or six minutes.”
“Anyways, on the way out, after the mission failed because we did not find any of our POWs…”
At that, the Vice Chief interrupted: “Bull, it was not an operational failure…”
“Sir, we did not do what we set out to do. Therefore, it was a failure.” He turned back to the President, who looked at Colonel Simons with new respect.
“As we sat in the bird on the way out, two of my men came to me with documents. As you are undoubtedly aware, sir, Special Forces personnel are required to have at least a working knowledge of another language. Most of those who went on the raid spoke at least passable Vietnamese. I had one Russian and two German speakers, all fluent, on my bird. What two of them brought to me almost gave me a heart attack.” He grinned: “I’m old enough, anyway. They had searched a few bodies and found some identification on two of the people we killed. If the documents are authentic, and I have no doubt they are, we killed one Russian two star and an East German colonel, who also worked for the Stasi. They were advisors, and the East German at least was helping to interrogate our men.”
At that revelation, even the jaw of the Chief of Staff hit the floor. The Chairman retained his look of composure and did not say anything.
“Where are these documents, now?” asked the President. “Right here sir,” and Bull Simons pulled open his attaché case and gave the documents to the President. He held on to them for a moment or two, one in German, and the other in the Cyrillic alphabet of t
he Russian language, and then handed one to Kissinger. “Here, Henry, you read German, tell me if it’s as Bull says it is.”
Kissinger did as he was asked, read over the document, gave it back to the President, nodded, and said in his slow, deliberate, and accented English: “It’s as he says it is, Mr President. We’ll have to check this for authenticity, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t be.”
The Chief of Staff was furious. He exploded, momentarily forgetting where he was. “Colonel Simons, you are guilty of a breach of security. Why in hell did not you turn these over to the proper channels for analysis, as per proper procedure?”
“If I had, general, they would have been buried somewhere and not put to good use. Some chairwarming sonofabitch would find them in ten years and wonder why we did not use the information to our advantage—again”
“And you know how to do that better than the intelligence people do you?”
Smiling slyly, he said: “Sir, I’m here aren’t I?”
At that the Vice Chief stifled a guffaw, even the National Security Advisor let go of a slight smile. The Chairman kept his poker face and gently grabbed the Chief of Staff’s arm, reminding him where he was. The Chief of Staff sat back in his chair fuming, glaring at Simons.
The President looked at Simons with a grin: “OK Bull, you’ve made your point, I think. What is it you want?”
“Sir, these documents prove the Russians and the Soviet bloc are actively aiding the North Vietnamese. This may also hint that the Chinese are out of the loop.” The President and Kissinger exchanged glances, noticed by both Simons and the Vice Chief. The Chief of Staff was not paying attention any longer. He continued: “If that is so, we don’t have to worry about intervention from the Chinese, who hate the Vietnamese anyway, and the feeling is more than mutual, if we invade North Vietnam.”
“WHAT!” the Chief of Staff shouted, coming out of his chair: “Are you out of your mind? There is no way we are going to invade North Vietnam. We are in the process of withdrawal and turning the war over to the South Vietnamese! The press would have a field day even knowing we were discussing this topic. Do you want more riots and demonstrations in the streets?”
“We already have that, sir, so this won’t change the situation much, now will it? At least we know the score in that respect. Most of them work for the North Vietnamese anyway,” Simons shot back.
“As for the South Vietnamese, they will promptly lose it if we don’t finish it. Withdrawal, or any other term you want to use, sir, is just a very polite way of saying selling out, cutting our losses, and going home. As for the press and the protesters, they can go screw themselves.”
“You listen to me Simons…” then the Chief of Staff remembered where he was. The Chairman calmly said: “Sit down, general, please.” The Chief of Staff looked at the President and stammered: “I beg your pardon, sir.” The room became very quiet and you could have heard a pin drop. The President said nothing about the altercation, but turned to Simons and said very calmly: “You said you had a proposal, Bull.”
“Yes sir, I do,” and lifted a thin manila folder out of his attaché case. “Sir, I’ve spent the last few days coming up with an outline for an OPLAN to invade North Vietnam. Sir, we all know the North Vietnamese Army is in the south. They may have a training division in the north, plus support and anti-aircraft troops, plus Russian support troops and advisors. Maybe 10,000 all told. If we invaded, we’d win in a walk and they’d be caught with their pants down. They cannot redeploy their army faster than we can take the north if we do it right. They don’t have the strategic mobility, or the tactical mobility for that matter, that we do. The Ho Chi Minh Trail is a one-way road, and with our present policy of staying out of Laos and Cambodia, they get a big freebie. We could do it with five divisions, three more to follow on, and have the Marine divisions in the south attack across the DMZ on the same day. We could use the proposed Cambodia invasion as a strategic ploy to occupy most of their troops in the area while we take Hanoi and Haiphong, and, if we’re lucky, most of their government. Endex. Then we dictate peace terms in Paris around their damned decoupage table. The Russians and the Chinese can kiss our ass. We present the world with a fait accompli.”
“When would you want this to go?” asked a now very interested President. The Chairman was paying very close attention now.
“Sir, you cannot be serious?” an almost hysterical Chief of Staff shouted. “This is insane. Think of the political backlash and the protests that will happen from the far left!”
“You mean like we already have, general?” the President asked ruefully.
“Sir, this won’t work, it’s too dangerous, the Russians and the Chinese won’t stand for it…”
“Screw the Russians and the Chinese…”
“Bull, easy now,” said the Vice Chief calmly.
The President looked at the Chairman and the Vice Chief very cold-eyed and dead calm. “Gentlemen, did you know about this?”
The Chairman, with a thoughtful look slowly said: “No sir, I did not.”
The Vice Chief, however, said: “Yes sir, as of this morning, and I concur with Colonel Simons one hundred percent. We can do this and it will work. The air and naval assets, with the exception of amphibious shipping, are in place already. Logistically, we can support it from Cam Ranh Bay and Da Nang. They don’t have a pot to piss in up North, and we’ll get strategic surprise, maybe even tactical surprise. We have special operations teams in the North, and along the Chinese border. It’s quiet and the information we get from them concurs with Colonel Simons’ analysis. It’s worth a shot.”
The Chief shook his head resignedly: “You cannot rely on uneducated and ignorant Montangard tribesmen for reliable information.”
“Oh really?” the Vice Chief countered: “They know what a man with a gun is, and they can count. Besides they have Americans with them, senior NCOs for the most part, unless you think they’re ignorant too. That was your problem when you commanded over there—you wouldn’t listen to reliable information from reliable, loyal sources and that’s why you got caught with your pants down in January 1968,” the Vice Chief shot back.
“You sonofabitch!” the Chief of Staff said. “You knew this, went over my head, and are now trying to get the country involved in a major war. I’ll have your request for retirement on my desk first thing in the morning.”
The Vice Chief looked his boss straight in the eye. “We’re already involved in a major war, general. I’m prepared to do that and so is Colonel Simons. What do you think they pay us for? Both of us are sick and tired of all the political garbage. We are involved in a major war. Up to now it hasn’t been run effectively or with the object of winning. This might do it.”
“General, you’re relieved. Report to my office immediately.”
For the first time, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff spoke. “If anyone is going to retire, Bill, it’s going to be you. You may report to your quarters as you clearly cannot control yourself. Consider yourself relieved.” Shocked at the turn of events, the Chief gathered his hat and briefcase and quickly left the room. “Good riddance,” Simons thought.
“Gentlemen,” the President interrupted, “It might be a good idea if we all calm down.” He did not contradict the Chairman’s last, and only, statement. “We have been looking for a way out of Vietnam, and this may be it. Personally, I’m tired of war protesters, dead American servicemen coming home in boxes, and hearing unending nonsense and garbage on the news of how evil and imperialistic we are. This will catch everyone, including the news media and the anti-war movement, flatfooted.”
“Has the Secretary of Defense been brought in on this?” All three remaining soldiers shook their heads. Kissinger spoke up: “He’s out of town on leave, fishing I think, Mr President.” “Good. I’d like time to digest this. General, schedule a meeting with the Joint Chiefs, but don’t tell them what it is about, except that it is critical to National Security. And tell Mrs. Woods2 that she can ‘
retune’ the electronics now.” The President gave a rueful grin at the last remark to the Secretary of State as he got up and walked towards the door to the outer office.”
As the President reached for the door handle, he turned to the three soldiers: “Gentlemen, you are dismissed, and don’t discuss this with anyone until I give you the word.”
As they made for the door, the President added: “By the way, Bull, you’re being promoted to brigadier general. General,” he said looking at the Vice Chief: “You’re now the Chief of Staff of the Army, and general,” looking at the Chairman: “I concur with your decision regarding the former Army Chief of Staff. Good day, gentlemen.”3
JCS Conference Room, The Pentagon: February 4, 1970
“Good Morning, gentlemen,” the brigadier general briefing the Joint Chiefs of Staff began, This is the order of battle and general OPLAN for Operation Olympic…”
I hardly believe it, thought the new Chief of Staff of the US Army, but we’re really going to do this. We even named it after the canceled invasion of Japan in War II. I don’t think Bull actually thought we’d get this far, but we sure did. We really have to pull this off or it will be the largest crisis the country will face since the Civil War. If we win, though, it will solve a lot of problems.
“… Gentlemen, do I have any questions?” the briefer concluded 20 minutes later.
“No, Fred, thanks. You’ve covered it completely and did not waste time. That’s why they call it a brief.” The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff smiled at his own wit. More seriously, he turned to the other general officers, and the key civilians, the Director of Central Intelligence, the Deputy Director of the FBI for Counter-intelligence, and the Secretary of State, and, of course, the Secretary of Defense.
Cold War Hot: Alternate Decisions of the Cold War Page 21