FOR one of the stories in our twelve-page section on the cease-fire this week, we asked TIME correspondents who have reported from Indochina for their most vivid impressions. Roy Rowan, now in Hong Kong, recalled the atmosphere in June 1948. The military language was French then, the berets red, Americans as scarce as they were later to be ubiquitous. But the datelines -- Tay Ninh, Ben Cat, Can Tho, Pleiku -- were to remain bloody constants for 25 years.

Thumbing through 59 TIME cover stories is another way to review the twists, shocks, hopes and frustrations of the strangest war in U.S. history. Through the 1950s, it was still a foreign conflict, and the cover subjects included Emperor Bao Dai, Ho Chi Minh (top two) and Ngo Dinh Diem. When a military coup felled Diem in 1963, Murray Gart, now chief of correspondents, watched some of the action from a Saigon rooftop. There was only one central cable office in Saigon then, and to avoid delay and censorship, Gart flew to Bangkok to file material for a cover story.

Our men in Saigon, along with their colleagues in Washington and New York, had one basic mission: to explain a war that grew more baffling as well as more costly. We profiled the leaders of Saigon and Hanoi and the dissident Buddhist Thich Tri Quang. Cover stories on Dean Rusk, Robert McNamara and Lyndon Johnson charted Washington's goals and tactics, while two others on General William Westmoreland, who was Man of the Year for 1965 (middle), described the military strategy that seemed so promising then.

The Tet offensive five years ago was a turning point. Despite the Communists' huge casualties, it demonstrated their determination and continued power to strike; it had great impact on U.S. opinion and politics; and it started a reappraisal that made many publications, including TIME, skeptical about the war and critical of U.S. policy. But there were chapters yet to be told, including the protest movement and the big Northern offensive last spring (bottom). In November, a special section devoted to the coming peace examined the war's effect on the U.S. and Viet Nam.

The war profoundly affected journalists. Marsh Clark first visited Viet Nam seven years ago, later served as bureau chief, and is now back in Saigon for a brief stint. "The mark of Viet Nam is forever on me," he says. "My language is altered, my hair grayer, my eyes sadder. Hamburger Hill, My Lai, the Green Berets, assassinations, mistaken air strikes, refugees and kids with napalm burns. The U.S. may try to forget, but that will be hard."

On the cover: South Vietnamese woman holding flags in preparation for truce; Le Due Tho and Kissinger after initialing in Paris; U.S. airman tossing helmet at Tan Son Nhut airfield, South Viet Nam, after cease-fire news; P.O.W. wife Margaret Lengyel.

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