Closing the My Lai Case

As it tries to whip its new all-volunteer force into shape, the U.S. Army is doing its best to rid itself of the lingering legacies of Viet Nam. Two weeks ago, Army Secretary Howard H. Callaway paroled Lieut. William L. Calley, the only man convicted for taking part in the My Lai massacre. With Calley free, Callaway last week took another calculated step toward exorcising the demon of Viet Nam. Saying he wanted "to tell it like it is," the Secretary released key parts of the Army's official inquiry into what happened at My Lai on the morning of March 16, 1968, when a company of American soldiers slaughtered at least 175 and perhaps more than 400 unresisting civilians--men, women, youths and infants.

The Army's account was the result of an intensive reconstruction of the massacre by 72 investigators led diligently by Lieut. General William R. Peers, who had spent more than 30 months commanding troops in Viet Nam. The "Peers report," as the findings became known, was based on interviews with 399 witnesses, whose testimony filled more than 20,000 pages.

Much of the bloody detail of My Lai had already been revealed either during the courts-martial or by newsmen, notably Seymour M. Hersh, a reporter for the New York Times. But the Peers report, for all its official prose and military circumlocution, holds its own special fascination: the Army, says the report, was guilty of "individual and group acts of murder, rape, sodomy, maiming and assault on noncombatants and the mistreatment and killing of detainees."

As described by the report, the My Lai massacre was less an act of intentional cruelty than a macabre happening that, given the circumstances, seemed to be almost ordained from the start. The whole operation began to lurch out of control during the planning stages, when intelligence reports gave "a false and misleading picture of the area as an armed enemy camp, largely devoid of civilian inhabitants."

Some of the officers saw the upcoming attack as an opportunity to make names for themselves in the fierce competition for promotion. In their advance briefings, the officers "embellished" the situation to rouse the fighting spirit of their men, young and inexperienced G.I.s who were eager to gain revenge on an unseen and elusive enemy that was killing their buddies with mines and booby traps. The men had not been properly drilled in the rights of noncombatants, as laid down by the Geneva Convention and Army regulations. Worse, they knew that others in their outfit had got away with raping and killing Vietnamese civilians. "That evening, as we cleaned our weapons and got our gear ready, we talked about the operation," Pfc. Robert W. Pendleton told the Peers investigators. "People were talking about killing everything that moved. Everyone knew what we were going to do."

Shot in Ditch. The attack started just before 8 a.m. The report states that Galley's 1st Platoon moved through My Lai killing Vietnamese. "Most of the inhabitants who were not killed immediately were rounded up into two groups. The first group, consisting of about 70-80 Vietnamese, was taken to a large ditch east of My Lai and later shot. A second group, consisting of 20-50 Vietnamese, was taken south of the hamlet and shot there on a trail."

By midmorning, Major General Samuel W. Koster, commanding general of the Americal Division, had enough information to have taken the necessary steps to stop the carnage. According to the report, when Koster learned that there were six to eight dead civilians in the area, he should have ordered a prompt investigation and taken "strong positive action to prevent any further killing."

Instead, Koster, one of the promising young combat generals in the Army --he was then only 48--became a key figure in a massive attempt to cover up the slaughter. When the story of My Lai broke, Koster was super intendent of West Point, often a steppingstone on the way up to the higher echelons of the Army. He resigned from his post and, after an investigation, was censured and reduced to brigadier general. He later retired from the Army.

Discussing the attempts to hide the massacre, Secretary Callaway sounded overtones of Watergate when he said: "One man gets involved a little bit and then he begins covering his tracks, and it just goes on and on . . . It's the kind of thing that grows. Once you start that, you have to sort of have to continue."

In all, the Peers investigation implicated more than 30 men in the My Lai massacre and its coverup. Many were never even charged. Twelve had the charges against them dismissed and three were acquitted after being court-martialed. Only Galley served time.

The facts set down in the Peers report raise again the question of why so many got off so lightly. Secretary Callaway frankly confesses: "This is a story of the Army which is not a happy one. None of us is proud of it." Peers, now retired and a missile-systems consultant in California, goes further. Says he: "To think that out of all those men, only one was brought to justice. And now he's practically a hero. It's a tragedy."

The Hero. Peers said that his massive investigation had turned up only one man who "had the decency to try to do something" about My Lai--a helicopter pilot named Hugh Thompson, who landed during the battle, tried to stop the killing and actually evacuated some wounded civilians to get them away from his berserk compatriots. "That man's the hero," Peers said.

Since the My Lai massacre, the Army has increased and improved the instruction every recruit receives on how civilians should be treated during war time. Ultimately, however, the conduct of U.S. troops in any future battle will depend on maturity, training and moral values in their officers--all qualities that were lacking at My Lai, as the Peers report clearly shows.

Small wonder that Secretary Callaway is eager to move on. Last week he declared: "The release of this report concludes a dark chapter in the Army's history."

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