Civilian Westmoreland

As leader of U.S. forces in South Viet Nam from 1964 to 1968, General William Chi Ids Westmoreland directed the American military machine here at the height of war, with some 500,000 men under his command by the time of his departure. Like many other principals in the drama of the nation's longest war, Westmoreland is now far removed from the agony and ambiguity of Indochina. Leaving the Army two years ago after a final four-year hitch as Chief of Staff, "Westy"retired to his native South Carolina, where Westmoreland has been a proud and prominent name for generations. TIME Atlanta Bureau Chief James Bell, who met the general in 1965 while he was on one of his frequent chopper and Jeep tours of the Vietnamese countryside, recently visited Westmoreland in his new surroundings. Bell's report:

Westmoreland's working uniform used to be fatigues that were faded with wear but always had perfect, knife-edge creases. Thus it is something of a shock to notice, as he waves a guest into his small carriage house on Prices Alley in the historic old section of Charleston, that he is wearing a pair of rumpled slacks, sport shirt with tail out, and a pair of soft black moccasins that have not lately seen much spit and polish. Yet the short gray hair is still carefully combed straight back, the lean jaw still juts. Taut and fit as ever at 59, Westmoreland swims eight laps a day in good weather and is able to play golf and tennis for most of the year.

These days he is deep in the writing of his memoirs, due to be published this fall. Strewn about his living-room office are piles of books bearing on Viet Nam: Frances FitzGerald's Fire in the Lake, David Halberstam's The Best and the Brightest, Walt Rostow's The Diffusion of Power, Daniel Ellsberg's Papers on the War. They provide context, checkpoints and sometimes hostile fire for Westmoreland as he works through his own recollections. Does he think that he can add to the work of the earlier analysts? "No one else had the vantage point I had," says Westmoreland. "Therefore I feel I can cast light on some of the situations we faced in a way that will contribute to understanding the history of the period." One of those situations, he says evenly, is that he was the first commander since the Spanish-American War who "had to look over his shoulder and to reflect on the support of the home front as anything other than an asset." In other accounts of the war, says Westmoreland, "I do not believe that the men who served in uniform in Viet Nam have been given the credit they deserve."

No Tarnish. Westmoreland's other chief enterprise is running a five-man operation known as the Governor's Task Force for Economic Growth, a $25,000-a-year post to which he was named in 1972 by Governor John West. It calls for Westmoreland to handle a wide variety of projects aimed at expanding the state's business and industry, from promoting its tourist attractions to Canadians, to seeking investment capital from visiting Japanese businessmen, to spreading the word to farmers about new agricultural methods. As usual, the general is double-timing on his new job. Driving alone in his Ford Capri or accompanied by a retired Army colonel who serves as an aide, Westmoreland spends an average of two days a week on the road, and has already visited all of South Carolina's 46 counties at least once.

He can no longer travel in the style to which he was long accustomed. Returning to Charleston after a business trip to Washington aboard a state-owned aircraft not long ago, Westmoreland found himself 18th in line for takeoff. "In the old days, I'd fly into a military airfield and they'd clear out everything a day ahead," he observed wryly. But the luster of his four stars still casts a glow. During a recent visit to a technical school in Denmark, S.C., Westmoreland found some of the students dressed in old combat jackets, their name tags still in place. "Where were you?" Westmoreland briskly inquired of each while shaking hands. Back came the replies: "Korea ... Okinawa ... Nam, sir ..."

A good many South Carolinians have come to the conclusion that Westmoreland is promoting more than just economic development in his hopscotches about the state. After all, West's term as Governor expires next January, and he is prevented by law from seeking another. Furthermore, Viet Nam has not tarnished one whit the tradition of gentlemen warriors in the Palmetto State. Westmoreland returned home a genuine hero who would likely have no trouble pulling in votes. Last week an audience of 130 at the Charleston Rotary Club laughed knowingly and heartily when, in a slip, a member introduced Westy as "the Governor."

Westmoreland makes no secret about his interest in the job, saying that he thinks "more nonprofessional politicians should run for office." But there are problems with jumping into an Eisenhower-like political career, even on the state level. For one thing, Westmoreland must first decide, as Ike did, whether he is a Democrat or a Republican. He has never even voted, much less joined a political party. "I always encouraged nonprofessional soldiers to vote, but as a career officer I would not be partisan," he explains. "I had to give my complete loyalty to whoever was Commander in Chief. Then in 1972, after retiring, I still hadn't decided which if either party I would affiliate with." He has spoken with emissaries of both, but in a state where the Senate's Strom Thurmond is the only consistent Republican winner, most political observers doubt that Westmoreland will choose the G.O.P. Lately he has spoken vaguely of running as a "citizen's candidate."

Westmoreland's highly active style has bothered some critics, who charge that he is using his task-force job simply to buck for a promotion. "I don't think he or the task force has contributed one iota toward economic growth or foreign trade," complains State Development Board Member Pete J. Stathakis, a Democrat. A top official of the State Board of Health, one of several agencies with which Westmoreland works closely, says the general "has got to learn that he cannot run us like a bunch of privates and get cooperation." But on the whole, Westy gets good marks for his effort in what is largely a public relations and promotion job, and he shrugs off such carping: "The hell with criticism; one has to live with his own conscience."

Final Niche. Meanwhile, Westmoreland is overseeing construction of a new home at 107 Tradd Street, not far from Charleston's famous battery. The general stops by his new place several times weekly, taking reports from carpenters and plumbers as though they were so many field commanders. When it is completed in April, Westmoreland and wife Kitsy--who moved 24 times during his 36-year Army career--will at last have a permanent home--and a final niche for a decorative cushion that they received as a gift while living in the official Chief of Staff residence in Fort Myer, Va. It is embroidered with the words "Be it ever so humble, there's no place like Quarters One." Final, that is, unless Quarters One should become the Governor's mansion.

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