The War Before the War, page 3
“So, it’s not really an apology if it’s the way you feel.”
“I suppose not. But I don’t want to offend you. Men in uniform can be so sensitive.”
“I think you’ll find me far from sensitive.”
“Really? The thought intrigues me. I am curious as to your opinion. Does war solve anything?”
“You know… I should really get going,” he said, rising.
“Oh, come on, Sergeant. I was just trying to ruffle your feathers. Besides, I hate the thought I will never see Peter again. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“I’m sure you won’t be. It’s just not going to be me. Have a good night,” he said, walking away.
“Shit,” said the woman as the waiter sat two daiquiris in front of her.
Saigon, Indochina - December 23, 1945
As the sun rose in the early morning sky, the French troopship MS Maréchal Joffre sailed up the Sông Sài Gòn, also known as the Saigon River. Sampans bobbed in the wake as it passed. Its mighty horn announced the ship’s arrival and broke the stillness of the morning. The vessel was an American hand-me-down from World War II. Most of France’s navy, including its troopships, had been sunk by the Allies to keep it out of the hands of the Nazis. France could not afford a new troopship, and while the Maréchal Joffre was well-used, it still served its purpose.
On the bow of the ship, the 6th company of the 23rd Colonial Infantry Regiment was performing calisthenics. Leading them was Captain Marcel Bigeard. Those that knew him called him Little Bruno - his call sign when he was with the underground in Paris. He didn’t object. Bruno was not one for formality. He measured his men by ability and bravery. Everyone under his command knew where they stood and what was expected of them. Today, and every morning before breakfast, was one hour of calisthenics. They were also expected to do a five-mile run, but Bruno had forgone the run while they were aboard ship because there were too many things to trip over and break an ankle. He needed his men fit when they landed. He planned on using them a great deal.
The other company commanders onboard believed it was better to forgo the exercise altogether until their troops had adjusted to the hot and muggy Southeast Asian weather. They let their men rest up for the fight ahead.
Bruno didn’t understand this logic since the men would need to fight no matter the weather. He thought it stupid and told his fellow officers such whenever asked, which wasn’t often. In their eyes, Bruno was a fanatic and an upstart captain looking to jump rank. The one thing nobody could argue was that Bruno was one of the fittest men in the French army. His men both loved him and hated him because he tended to volunteer for the most dangerous assignments.
“Good workout, gentlemen,” Bruno said as he finished the final set of squats.
Bruno never asked his men to do anything he would not do himself, and that included the morning exercise routine. He always led from the front. Bruno also had one other peculiar habit that most thought foolish and drove his fellow commanders nuts. Bruno never carried a weapon into battle, not even an officer’s sidearm. He felt as commander of his unit, his duty was to make sure that all of his men were positioned correctly and fighting efficiently. He couldn’t do that if he were fighting himself. And Bruno loved to fight. It was instinctual. Hence, his self-imposed ‘no weapon’ rule. “The ship will be docking at the Port of Saigon at noon. We will be disembarking shortly after that. I have been assured that the British have secured the area around the port. However, since I do not trust the British as far as I can throw them, we will be landing with our weapons at the ready.”
His men laughed. Classic Bruno. “I do have some good news. Once off the ship, I am sure we can find a safe place for our morning run,” he said, and the men groaned. “I will make sure everyone is given a chance to stretch their legs at the earliest convenience. Speaking of which, after breakfast, we will have a full equipment check and inspection. Those caught lacking will give me ten miles before sundown. Welcome to Indochina, Gentlemen. It’s a beautiful place to die.”
CHAPTER THREE
Haiphong, Indochina - November 23, 1946
Ho Chi Minh did not want a war. He hoped to negotiate a peaceful withdrawal of the French from Indochina. He and his followers were not afraid of the French. They had been fighting the French since before World War II. They knew that the French were in a weakened state because of the toll from the Nazi occupation of France. With their economy in ruins, the French lacked money, supplies, and weapons. Ho and his advisors doubted that the French public would have much stomach for yet another prolonged conflict. The Viet Minh simply needed to outlast the French, racking up casualties whenever possible. The French media would do the rest, and their army would be called home.
It wasn’t the French that worried Ho. It was the Americans. The French had been an ally of the Americans just as the Viet Minh had been an American ally. But France was in Europe, and the Americans wanted to prevent Soviet expansion. The Americans were also concerned about Chinese expansion into Indochina. But Ho suspected that the two countries were not equal in the minds of the Americans. Ho knew his history. France had helped America achieve its independence from Britain. France was in the heart of Europe. The Americans believed that Europe falling to the communists was just as bad as Europe falling to the fascists. It was nonsense, of course.
While it was true that Ho was a communist, he was a nationalist first and foremost. He believed that Communism was the best political and economic system to lift the Vietnamese people out of poverty. He would do whatever was necessary to save his country and feed his people.
Still, if the Americans were forced to choose between Indochina and France, Ho was sure they would choose France. Southeast Asia was not a threat to America, but a communist Europe could be. In Ho’s mind, war must be avoided at all costs. He had watched how the American military buildup had destroyed both the Nazis and the Japanese. He did not want the same fate to fall on Vietnam. He did not want to fight the Americans. He saw them as a natural ally to the Indochinese. The Americans had fought for their freedom just as the Indochinese were fighting for theirs. Ho had lived and worked in America. He supported many of the ideas of liberty and unalienable equal rights that the Americans accepted as core beliefs.
Besides, Ho didn’t trust the Chinese. China had invaded and occupied Vietnam many times over the centuries. Mao was an ardent communist and was willing to make great sacrifices to further global expansion of his beloved philosophy. He resented Ho’s nationalistic tendencies and thought them counter-productive to the true communist agenda. China needed Vietnamese rice to feed its growing population and Vietnamese soldiers to support communist expansion into Southeast Asia. If Vietnam accepted Chinese military aid, it would be hard to stop the tiger once it had his foot in the door. Ho was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He needed the French to grant Vietnam independence and leave his country once and for all, but he needed the Chinese to force them to do it.
Things had settled down to a slow boil between the Viet Minh and the French since the first skirmishes after the end of World War II. France simply did not have enough military resources at its disposal to fight a protracted war with the Viet Minh, which were quickly growing in number and strength. Instead, France’s commissioner for Northern Indochina, Jean Sainteny, negotiated a treaty with Ho Chi Minh that gave Vietnam independence as a free state within the French Union. Vietnam was allowed to have its own government, parliament, army, and finances. France was entitled to a military presence in Vietnam for five years to protect French citizens and France’s financial interests.
Before long, and much to the dismay of Ho and his followers, France began to exert the same colonial authority it had previously renounced in the treaty. French warships stationed in the Gulf of Tonkin virtually blockaded Haiphong Harbor. When a French patrol boat seized a Chinese junk running contraband, Vietnamese soldiers on shore opened fire on the French ship. Armed clashes between French and Vietnamese civilians broke out in the city of Haiphong. To stop the violence from escalating, the French agreed to respect Vietnamese sovereignty in Haiphong.
Once the news of the incident reached Paris, Admiral d’Argenlieu, High Commissioner of Indochina, was incensed. He fired off a cable to Jean Étienne Valluy, the commander of French forces in Indochina, demanding that he take control of Haiphong by force of arms.
An ultimatum was given to Ho Chi Minh and the Vietnamese demanding that they immediately withdraw from the French and Chinese sections of the city, including the port. When the Vietnamese refused, the French Cruiser Suffren and three Bougainville-class aviso ships were ordered to take up positions within the harbor.
Seeing the warships approach, the people of Haiphong ran for shelter. Two platoons of French marines went ashore and escorted the French and Chinese citizens for whom they were responsible back to the ships. The French knew the location of the French and Chinese neighborhoods and would avoid shelling them during the battle, but they weren’t taking any chances. Any Vietnamese that stood in the way of the marines were quickly mowed down by a volley of gunfire. The marines were vastly outnumbered, and aggression was their only defense. After their violent display, any mob would think twice about attacking the marines as they twisted their way through the city. That brief respite was all they needed to reach the safety of the shoreline, where the ships’ guns could protect them with direct fire.
With the French and Chinese civilians safely on board, the small flotilla opened fire. The ground shook as shells whistled in and exploded within the city. The aviso patrol boats with their five and a half inch guns raked the shoreline and destroyed many of the Vietnamese homes and businesses. The eight-inch guns on the Suffren were able to reach any structure within the entire city. One shell filled with high explosives would demolish a house, killing its occupants. A large stone or masonry building might take two or three rounds before the roof caved in and the walls collapsed. The ships’ gunners were careful in their selection of targets, pounding one Vietnamese neighborhood or business district before moving on to the next.
Helldivers and Corsairs from the French aircraft carrier Arromanches carried out bombing raids over the city. Once their bombs were released, the pilots were free to strafe any enemy positions that fired at them. Any vehicle or pedestrian within the city limits was considered a target of opportunity. The French were ordered to make an example of the Vietnamese in Haiphong, and they carried out their mission with relish.
Fire was the most significant hazard to the people of Haiphong. Much of the city was old and was constructed with wood that had dried out over decades, even centuries, of use. Hot shrapnel from the shells tore deep into the wood structures and set them ablaze. Paper lanterns hung from the outside beams caught fire easily and acted as kindling. Any fire spread quickly, without warning. Wind from the sea was drawn in by the heat and created a firestorm consuming entire neighborhoods.
The shelling only lasted a few hours, but that was all that was necessary. The fire did the rest. Before daybreak of the following morning, over six thousand Vietnamese civilians had died in what history would call The Haiphong Massacre. The Indochina War had begun.
Hanoi, Indochina
Ho and General Giap were in conference in their new party headquarters in Hanoi when word came of the massacre. Both were crestfallen at the loss and the brutality of the French on their civilian population. “They won’t have a full accounting of the losses and damage for a few days, but they believe dead are in the thousands, and over half the city has been destroyed by fire,” said Giap reading the cable. “At least the harbor facilities were only lightly damaged.”
“Of course. The French need the harbor to unload more troops and supplies,” said Ho, disgusted.
“We cannot let this stand.”
“And we won’t. But a large portion of our troops are still untrained, and many are unarmed,” said Ho. “We should only fight the French if we cannot lose.”
“We won’t lose. Morale is high. Our soldiers are itching for a fight to prove themselves worthy. The French are weak, poorly supplied, and their numbers are still few. We should strike them now before they gain strength. A powerful blow could force them to rethink their reoccupation.”
“And where would you make this blow?”
“Hanoi. It’s only a matter of time before the French attempt to take control of Hanoi. They know it is our strongest bastion and our base of support.”
“Are we ready to go on the offensive?”
“No. But if we wait until we are ready, we may lose the only opportunity to show the French the true opposition they face. Once they are entrenched, the cost will rise significantly to root them out. I know it is risky, but we must strike now.”
“What about the French artillery and air force?”
“Both are surmountable problems. Our troops must keep moving during the battle and not let the French pin them down. To do so will be met with disaster.”
“And French armor?”
“Their tanks are the biggest threat. We acquired a stockpile of lunge mines from the Japanese weapon depots that we raided before they left.”
“Lunge mine?”
“It’s a shaped charge using high explosives. Specially trained volunteers carry the conical charge on the end of a wooden pole. When a tank or armored car passes, the soldier springs from his hidden position, charges the side of the vehicle, and strikes the armored plates at a 90-degree angle. The mine detonates on impact, killing the crew, and disabling the vehicle.”
“And the soldier?”
“It’s a manual anti-tank weapon. It does not require much skill, so we can use some of our younger recruits rather than the veterans.”
“You mean it’s a suicide weapon?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The operator of the mine is killed by the explosion. But we have no lack of volunteers. The lunge mines are very effective against all types of armor. It’s considered an honor to be selected for such a mission.”
“Just because our people are brave does not mean we should take their lives lightly.”
“I assure you I don’t.”
“I don’t like it. How will our people feel if they know we are using their children for suicide attacks?”
“Proud, I would imagine. Their children will be dying for their country and saving the lives of their fellow soldiers. The French tanks will be devastating against our infantry if we do not stop them. We will lose by far more men than the few suicide operators we use to stop the French armor.”
“I see.”
“Good. We both know that independence will cost many lives. Maybe even our own. I take the sacrifice of our men seriously, but it is necessary.”
“Of course. I don’t doubt your prudence, General. I just want to make sure we have an army to win our people’s freedom. What if we waited until our men are better prepared?”
“The French will see us as weak. We will be inviting additional attacks.”
“I see. What about using the crime syndicates to attack the French? At least they are already armed and know how to fire a weapon.”
“They are undisciplined thugs that damage our cause and turn the people against us.”
“I suppose you are right. How long would you need before we could strike?”
“Two, maybe three weeks to reposition our troops and evacuate those civilians that can be convinced to leave the city before the shooting starts. We should consolidate our forces and send anyone unready to our mountain bases to continue training. Only our veterans and the lunge mine volunteers should fight the French. The recruits would just be cannon fodder. While there is some value in mass, we cannot waste them. We will need them as replacements after they are trained.”
“I agree. We need to preserve every soldier that we can. The French will hit back hard. We must be prepared for a protracted engagement.”
“Then we are in agreement?”
“We are. Keep me advised as you make preparations to carry out your plan.”
“Of course, Uncle.”
CHAPTER FOUR
York County, Virginia - December 10, 1946
Camp Perry was made up of 9,000 acres of hearty Virginia forest and bordered by the York River. It was an ideal location to train the Navy’s elite combat engineers - The Seabees. It even had its own destroyer escort ship - Miss Never Sail - a wooden mock-up used for demolition training. The U.S. Navy abandoned the camp after World War II and turned it over to the U.S. Forestry Department for recreational use.
As the CIA was being formed, the director identified the need for a secret training facility for overseas field officers. His idea was to hide in plain sight. A small section of Camp Perry was cordoned off with signs that identified the area as impassable with dangerous swamps. An electrified fence surrounded the area, which seemed strange to visitors of the national park who were too busy enjoying the natural beauty of the area to pay much attention. In later years, the entire camp would be reclaimed by the U.S. Navy, and the secret CIA training facility would expand to include all the acreage. The electrified fences were extended, and the signs keeping visitors out took on a much more ominous tone with threats of imprisonment for trespassers. Guard dogs and M.P.s patrolled the perimeter 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. The CIA training facility would be nicknamed “The Farm.”
Granier felt like he had unintentionally made a deal with the devil. When he turned in his report on the Viet Minh and the French, it created quite a stir. Patti was right. Even the president read it. This made Granier an expert on Indochina, and the new CIA director, Lieutenant General Hoyt Vandenberg, was not about to let him return to active duty. He would be given a desk and asked to analyze all intel from Southeast Asia. Granier refused and threatened to resign. He was technically a civilian working for the U.S. Government. Instead of accepting his resignation, Patti made a deal with Granier. Granier would spend half his time training field officers in sniper and reconnaissance techniques at The Farm and the other half reviewing and writing intelligence reports. Granier was not happy about this compromise. But he also knew he wasn’t trained for a job in the real world, except maybe in law enforcement, which didn’t suit his reclusive nature. Working for the CIA was the best he could do at the moment.
