The Communists Tighten the Noose

"When the Communists decide they're going to do it, they'll do it. Period," declared a senior American intelligence official in Saigon. It is hard to argue with that grim assessment. Last week nearly 75% of South Viet Nam's territory and 40% of its citizens were under Communist rule. It was probably only a matter of Hanoi's choosing and timing before the coup de grace would be delivered to Saigon. Even so stalwart a defender of the Saigon regime as Hoang Due Nha, 33, a cousin and confidant of President Nguyen Van Thieu's, admitted: "The Communists have put a noose around our neck." Nha insisted that the government can slip out of it, but he conceded that "it will be close, very close."

Last week, however, the momentum of the month-old rout slowed considerably. Instead of gobbling up additional provinces, the Communists seemed to be digesting what they had gained during the first four weeks of the offensive; they now seemed to be carefully probing the government's remaining defenses. In the scattered fighting, ARVN troops were no longer dropping their weapons and running almost as soon as the Communists opened fire; in a number of skirmishes, in fact, Saigon's troops performed relatively well, standing their ground and driving back the attackers. At week's end, ARVN forces faced considerable pressure from an enemy bent on taking the provincial capital of Xuan Loc east of Saigon and threatening to cut links to the Mekong Delta southwest of the city. On the political front, there was no significant development. A lone, enraged pilot tried to kill Thieu, but there was no evidence that the President was ready to step down--or that the legion of his political opponents could agree on a successor. Meanwhile, for countless thousands of Vietnamese, as well as for the estimated 5,000 Americans still in the country, the overriding question was how they could make their escape before the Communists take control (see box, page 16).

THE MOOD OF SAIGON

The capital seemed resigned to impending defeat. "The old life has ended," cabled TIME Correspondent William McWhirter from Saigon. "Its assets, loyalties, ideology and leadership are all becoming empty. Even now, with North Vietnamese divisions only an hour's drive away, no spirit of support or sacrifice has been summoned from the capital itself. It has not offered blood, money or even passion. No one has bothered to rally the people; there is a lone loudspeaker in the main square, but its scratchy, martial music is largely ignored. A high school teacher explained: "We Vietnamese, we know the verdict. Now we are awaiting the sentence of heaven.'"

The one pronounced feeling in the capital seems to be a fear of the lawlessness that could grip the city during those gray days when one regime has lost power but the conquerors have not yet completely arrived. Fueling these fears were the horror stories of the panic and flight from the north. Almost every refugee-laden barge that pulled into a southern port brought its own cargo of the dead--victims of starvation, exposure, thirst or the shootings of renegade soldiers.

One refugee, a 25-year-old paratrooper, managed to reach Saigon after a ten-day flight by car, foot and boat from Bao Lac, capital of Lam Dong province, after it fell to the Communists. He told his story to TIME:

"First the airport was hit by enemy rocket fire. Then, without us even firing a shot, the province chief gave the order to disperse. Everyone fled; even wounded soldiers got out of their hospital beds and walked off. On the road, I saw armed soldiers forcing people out of their cars and countless instances of theft; some soldiers were even carting sacks of fertilizer and driving 100 tractors out of a warehouse owned by a relative of President Thieu. Saigon is going to go too; wherever we go, the Communists are going to get there."

This paratrooper readily admitted that he "can live with the Communists." For those who feel that they cannot, the talk last week was mainly of possible means of escape. The chances are not good, except for the very rich who can pay enough of a bribe for a passport (current price: as high as $8,000).

Even the Vietnamese who worked for U.S. Government agencies or corporations may have trouble getting out; with their families, the number of these would-be refugees could easily reach 200,000. "How do you start contacting and organizing these people?" asked a worried U.S. embassy official. "Many don't have a phone or even an address. How do you reach them in tune? How do you tell them to come without that in itself creating a panic? How do you decide who goes and how many members of the family accompany them? How do you keep the others away?" Yet unless these Vietnamese escape, they may well find their names on some Communist "liquidation" list for having been identified too closely with the Americans.

ON THE MILITARY FRONT

Although the battlefields were relatively quiet, there was enough fighting to remind the South Vietnamese in the shrunken section under government control that the Communists were not far away. At midweek units of the North Vietnamese army and its Viet Cong allies started probing key government positions in the Saigon area. Often, as at Tay Ninh, 50 miles northwest of Saigon, the attacks were no more than random artillery or rocket barrages. At Tan An, which straddles strategic Highway 4 and is only 20 miles southwest of Saigon, Viet Cong commandos overran the airstrip and held it for eight hours before government troops drove them off.

The heaviest fighting took place at Xuan Loc, 40 miles east of Saigon, the capital of Long Khanh province. The Communist attack began Wednesday with a 2,000-round barrage of rockets and artillery and mortar fire, followed by a ground assault supported by tanks. According to Western analysts, Xuan Loc's nearly 6,000 defenders--including units of the 18th ARVN Division, which has its headquarters there--held their ground well.

For four more days, the battle raged; the Communists blasted the town with artillery and rockets and mounted ground probes; meanwhile, the government called in warplanes and helicopter gunships to pound suspected NVA positions in nearby rubber plantations. A brigade of paratroopers rushed up from Saigon to aid the city's defenders. At week's end after bitter fighting Saigon claimed that it had repulsed the invaders, killing 900 and destroying 37 Soviet-made tanks. The Communists, however, are sure to attack Xuan Loc again, since the fall of this major provincial capital would expose the government's giant airbase at Bien Hoa to Communist attack as well as further demoralize Thieu's shattered forces.

If the Communists decide on an all-out push against Saigon, most experts expect it to begin toward the end of April. Most of the troops the Communists need for such an attack are already in place, and they apparently have enough supplies to sustain six months of intensive fighting. Six North Vietnamese divisions totaling 130,000 men are now deployed around Saigon against seven ARVN divisions with 250,000 men, only 75,000 of them combat trained. In addition, it is assumed that several other NVA units could quickly be moved south from northern provinces captured during the current offensive.

The South Vietnamese government must build up the forces defending the capital without drawing upon the three ARVN divisions protecting the population centers and rich agricultural areas of the Mekong Delta. These troops, however, are needed right where they are. Throughout the Delta last week, regular NVA units and Viet Cong guerrillas shelled more than a dozen district towns. Moc Hoa, the tiny capital of Kien Tuong province on the Cambodian border--long a favorite target of the Communists--took more than 1,000 artillery and mortar rounds during one attack; Can Tho and My Tho are threatened by a buildup of Communist forces. Moreover, the NVA has bolstered the two divisions it had already stationed in the Delta by shifting the 5th Division from the Tay Ninh region.

Hanoi seems to have two aims in its Delta strategy: 1) to tie down the three ARVN divisions, thus preventing their redeployment to the Saigon area, and 2) to cut Highway 4, the pipeline through which Saigon receives almost all its rice and most of its fruit and vegetables. If Highway 4 were permanently cut off by the Communists, it would be the beginning of the end in the fatal strangulation of Saigon.

The scattered Communist attacks in the Delta accomplished Hanoi's first aim: ARVN troops clearly must remain where they are. The second aim, however, may be more difficult to attain. "The Delta is South Viet Nam's most secure area, militarily and, even more important, psychologically," reported TIME'S McWhirter after a visit to the area. "The ARVN units there have benefited by being far removed from the most traumatic effects of the rout in the north. Their morale is thus relatively high. They are led by General Nguyen Khoa Nam, a hardworking, incorruptible soldier of modest means. As word of the rout in the north spread, General Nam toured the command area, reassuring his troops that they need not fear such a disorderly withdrawal." In sharp contrast, the South Vietnamese commander in the Saigon area, General Nguyen Van Hoan, is generally regarded by Western military observers as not only incompetent but hopelessly corrupt as well. The strong showing by Xuan Loc's defenders also indicates that ARVN is still capable of fighting back. Diplomats in Saigon with close ties to the Communists have indicated that Hanoi is "very much aware of the consequences" of a frontal attack on the South Vietnamese capital. Translated, this means that the North Vietnamese realize a direct assault on Saigon might involve heavy casualties.

However, morale of most ARVN officers and line troops in the Saigon area remains shattered. Even if morale miraculously improves, time--at least two weeks, probably much more--is needed to regroup and refit the units that fled from Military Regions I and II. Since ARVN officers are not known for their organizational abilities, some of the units may never be reconstituted. Of the original 14,000 men in the once acclaimed Marine Division, which fled Thua Thien province, 8,000 escaped to Vung Tau near Saigon. Only 4,000 are still around, the others have melted away.

THE POLITICAL IMPASSE

While many Vietnamese were trying to find some way to leave their nation, President Thieu was insisting that he would stay--much to the dismay of a growing number of his countrymen. Last week the United Buddhist Church called on Thieu to resign. The An Quang Pagoda faction, representing the most outspoken element of the country's Buddhists, has long opposed the President. So have a number of leading Roman Catholics, members of the National Assembly, former Premier Nguyen Cao Ky and such advocates of the "third force" as General Duong Van ("Big") Minh and Vo Van Mau.

The most bizarre expression of mounting opposition to the President last week was made by a 26-year-old South Vietnamese air force lieutenant named Nguyen Thanh Trung, who tried--literally--to bomb Thieu out of office. Shortly after taking off from Bien Hoa airbase for an early morning bombing run in support of ARVN troops in Military Region III, Trung radioed his commander that he would have to turn back because his F-5 had engine trouble. Instead of returning to base, he headed for the white, modern Independence Palace, Thieu's presidential residence at the end of Thong Nhut Boulevard in downtown Saigon. After making several passes, Trung dropped four bombs on the palace; two were duds, but two exploded, injuring a government employee.

The siren-like whine of the jet and the explosions triggered pandemonium in the city. Diners crouched in fear behind street food stalls, panicked blue-and-white-uniformed children fled from a nearby school, riot police in green cars closed in on the palace. Radio Saigon proclaimed a 24-hour curfew; shops were quickly shuttered, and traffic was hopelessly snarled as people tried to hurry home.

Thieu took to the air less than two hours after the attack to declare: "I and my family are safe. I am determined to continue my leadership of the country. I view the attack as an isolated act by a group out to assassinate me and change this constitutional and legal regime." When it became clear that the bombing was not the prelude to a coup or an attack on the palace, the curfew was lifted after six hours. Meanwhile, according to Communist spokesmen, Lieut. Trung safely landed his plane at an undisclosed airfield controlled by the NVA. There he was welcomed, promoted to the rank of captain, and awarded the "Liberation Distinguished Service Order Second Class." Apparently Trung's attack on Thieu was motivated by personal reasons; he was said to be very depressed that his family had been unable to escape from Danang.

To many South Vietnamese, Thieu's determination to hang on in Independence Palace was more ominous than the bombing. The reclusive President had lost almost all that remained of his popularity and credibility by his inept handling of the ARVN retreat from the Highlands. That was apparent by the trouble that Nguyen Ba Can, the new Prime Minister whom Thieu had charged with organizing a "fighting Cabinet," was having in recruiting new ministers. By week's end, the new Cabinet was nearly formed, but contained no new major figures capable of inspiring new confidence in the government. Nonetheless, the President is still a power to be feared. Some members of the opposition went into hiding, fearful that Thieu would use the palace bombing as an excuse to imprison more opponents of the regime. The major problem that the opposition faces is the lack of a likely successor. Although his remark was self-serving, Thieu's cousin Nha was probably correct last week when he smugly observed: "Do you see anyone else around?"

THE COMMUNISTS' OPTIONS

Whether and when anyone else emerges in Saigon may have considerable impact on Hanoi's strategy. Pentagon analysts no longer doubt the NVA'S ability to achieve total military victory within a few months, if not sooner. In the past month, General Van Tien Dung, the NVA'S Chief of Staff and a disciple of the legendary Vo Nguyen Giap (mastermind of the Viet Minn's 1954 victory at Dien Bien Phu and of the 1968 Tet offensive), has demonstrated an impressive ability to coordinate infantry, artillery and armor. Indeed, the Communist Southern headquarters (COSVN) is now describing 1975--rather than 1976, as previously declared--as the "Year of Final Victory."

Perhaps the major dilemma facing Hanoi is whether to go for a quick, immediate strike at the capital--or whether to proceed step-by-step, which would allow ARVN more time to regroup and rebuild some of its shattered divisions. Actually, Hanoi has a third option: hoping that Saigon will fall without a fight anyway. "We do not want our compatriots to die if we can obtain our objectives by other means," declared Mme. Nguyen Thi Binh, the Provisional Revolutionary Government's Foreign Minister.

One possible strategy for a political victory would be to strangle Saigon by cutting off its Delta food supply and capturing the key cities and ports (such as Xuan Loc, Bien Hoa and Vung Tau) surrounding it. That might easily create enough discontent inside the capital to force Thieu's ouster or resignation. A new government might be ready to negotiate with the Communists and give them some sort of governing role. French President Valery Giscard d'Estaing has indicated that his country is prepared to use its "good offices" to help in the evolution of a political solution; the French have contacts with the PRO in Paris and have even kept their vice consul in Danang.

Of course, there is always the chance that Thieu's successor might be a strong nationalist who would try to rally the armed forces for a last-ditch stand against the Communists. A bloody battle for Saigon would then become inevitable--as would its outcome. Despite the hyperbole, Hanoi's party newspaper Nhan Dan was probably correct when it boasted: "Wherever our army advances, it smashes and disintegrates all of the enemy."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.