NIGHT WAR IN THE JUNGLE

The U.S. & the Vietnamese Again Fight for Southeast Asia

IN Saigon one night last week, the cafes were crowded and new cars streamed along the boulevards beneath the red, green and blue of neon signs. But 40 miles to the north, the small provincial capital of Phuoc Thanh was shrouded in darkness, and the only sounds were the hoots and crackles of the jungle. Its inhabitants slept uneasily behind the protection of a low earthen rampart and tangles of barbed wire guarded by a handful of sentries.

At 1 a.m., Phuoc Thanh woke to the bludgeoning explosion of a plastic bomb that ripped away a corner of the concrete administration building. As the provincial chief and two of his aides rushed to the street, they were shot down. Over the rampart swarmed 600 Viet Cong Communist guerrillas brandishing rifles and machetes. Most of the town's 50 Civil Guards were machine-gunned as they slept. A company of 70 U.S.-trained Vietnamese Rangers retreated to the jungle, leaving the town to its fate. Their commander explained later that he intended to ambush the guerrillas as they withdrew.

Catching Hell. A rescue battalion of Vietnamese paratroopers arrived in the morning. They found Phuoc Thanh gutted by fire, with 42 of its defenders dead and 35 wounded. The Communists had captured 100 rifles and 6,000 rounds of ammunition, and had freed from jail 270 suspected Communist prisoners. Then the entire party had vanished in the jungle.

The U.S. believes that the attack may well be the signal for a new Red drive against South Viet Nam, part of an overall, constant movement to infiltrate and encircle the whole area (see map). The Viet Cong guerrillas get their seasoned cadres and supplies from Communist North Viet Nam via the Ho Chi Minh Trail, which parallels the borders of neighboring Laos and Cambodia. There is no interference from Laos, which may even be a supplier, since daily flights of Soviet Ilyushin planes land on the Communist-held Plaine des Jarres to disgorge arms for the 20,000-man Pathet Lao army. Neutral Cambodia is apparently too weak to police its own frontiers. Should the pro-Western government of South Viet Nam's President Ngo Dinh Diem fall before the Communists, Cambodia, Thailand, Burma and Malaya will have little chance of staying free.

Laced Darkness. To make sure that it does not fall, the U.S. maintains in South Viet Nam a Special Forces military mission intended to stiffen Diem's 170,000-man army and to give anti-guerrilla instruction to selected Ranger units. A TIME correspondent last week reported on the work of a five-man U.S. group at Trung Lap, a village only 20 miles northwest of Saigon. With a force of four Ranger companies--two in training, two in the field--and a detachment of Civil Guards, the U.S. mission is fighting the Viet Cong for control of an area scarcely 15 miles square inhabited by 110,000 peasants.

In the early dusk at Trung Lap, U.S. Captain Edward Nidever, a West Pointer, was bent over a chess game. Comfortably dressed against the heat in shorts and sneakers, Nidever was about to move a pawn when the humid silence was broken by an outburst of rifle fire. "The Civil Guard's catching hell again," said Nidever as he slung an ammunition belt across a bare shoulder, grabbed a carbine and headed for the door.

As Nidever and his men stumbled toward the scene of the ambush, tracers from automatic rifles laced the darkness, and the finger snap of small-arms fire was punctuated by the sledging blow of mortar explosions. Even under the wavering light of flare shells it was impossible to tell friend from foe. There was a movement, a silhouette running along the road. Was it a Viet Cong guerrilla or a Vietnamese Ranger? Even as the man passed it was impossible to tell.

Within an hour, the battle subsided. The Viet Cong disappeared into the bushes or the earth, for they often lie hidden during the day in camouflaged holes tunneled into the sandy soil. A dead Civil Guard was carried back to camp. The men of his unit shook their heads despondently; one of them began to weep. "Happens every night," said U.S. Sergeant Antonio Duarte. "Sometimes we have two or three skirmishes going on at the same time."

Tossed Grenade. Military information in South Viet Nam filters through the black-clad peasants who work their rice fields during the day and may carry a gun for either side at night. What the peasants want sounds relatively simple: a government that will keep order and let them alone. So far, Diem's solidly anti-Red regime, despite considerable achievements, has not filled that very tall order, and many peasants are ready to believe the cynical Viet Cong promises of future peace and plenty.

Each morning at Trung Lap, Sergeant Guy Williams, a U.S. medic, gives free treatment to local peasants. They line up at his thatch-roofed "office," exposing their sores of yaws and jungle rot. Sometimes a hobbling peasant arrives with his foot pierced by a Communist shoe-mine--a viciously barbed spike planted in jungle trails. Two orphan sisters of 7 and 10 trudged in. Both had been wounded five days before by steel splinters from a Viet Cong grenade.

The guerrillas can be found inside as well as outside the Trung Lap camp. One night, a Viet Cong tossed a grenade into a platoon barracks, killing one Ranger and wounding five. A captured Viet Cong document states matters clearly: "One U.S. instructor dead is worth two Vietnamese majors. One U.S. major is worth two Vietnamese generals."

Identical Twin. Sergeant Duarte led his company of Rangers on a night raid against a Viet Cong village. Surprise was complete, and he returned at dawn with five Communist prisoners. Looking carefully at one, Medic Williams said, "I'm sure I've seen him right here in my daily line-up of patients. Either that, or he has an identical twin."

Next day, as Sergeant Duarte and his men were laying out red markers in a field for a supply airdrop, Viet Cong snipers fired from the bush. The first bullets whizzed by within an inch of Duarte's head. He hit the dirt and, on signal, his Rangers began an enveloping movement that soon silenced the guerrillas. "Just the way they were taught in training," said Duarte proudly. "They're brave men and good soldiers." But he is both baffled and grudgingly impressed by the Communist enemy. Says Duarte: "The Viet Cong have the initiative. They also have motivation, but I don't know what motivates them."

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