Peace sign at Khe Sanh

Press, Volume CXI, Issue 32562, 23 March 1971, Page 13

Peace sign at Khe Sanh

(*L

JAMES PRINGLE,

NZPA Reuter cones.)

KHE SANK (South Vietnam), March 22. The dead lie outside the paratroopers’ field hospital in bright green plastic body bags, an American refinement in this war, while South Vietnamese soldiers cluster anxiously round.

They read the dog-tegs in case a friend is shrouded there, brought in by helicopter from neighbouring Laos. A United States captain standing nearby, a professional soldier and adviser to South Vietnamese troops, said: "They’re doing a fine job, these boys. We’re proud of them.” An American G. 1., smoking a “jay’ or marijuana “joint” as he drives to this base, under sporadic attack this side of the Laotian border, has a message printed on his own dog-tag: "Why do people kill people to show people killing is wrong.” His pupils dilated from “pot”, the G.L said: “If you don’t get high, you can’t live. Freaking out is the only way to stay sane.” The counter-culture of American youth is predominant in this ravaged valley Even beside the runway at Khe Sanh, key base for the entire thrust against the Ho Chi Minh Trail, there is a large peace symbol framed with belts of machine-gun bullets. Peace salute

Everyone, except officers and “lifers” as career soldiers are called, exchange the peace symbol salute as greetings, as tanks, armoured personnel carriers, trucks and jeeps roll through in clouds of red dust. Overhead comes the occasional long, low whisper of incoming North Vietnamese rockets. A medical orderly in the field hospital at Khe Sanh said that a recent attack killed four Americans—“though they didn’t tell that to the press,” he said. No fatalities have been officially reported yet at Khe Sanh, which is now being hit on a round-the-clock basis In the 852 bomb craters that plaster this infamous valley, new life begins as mayflies chase one another across the surface of stagnant water, filled with discarded soft drink cans and ration tins. Incredibly, a duck swims in

one crater, perhaps earmarked for a South Vietnamese soldier’s stewpot In a bunker of a base near the Laotian border there is brief talk of the war . . .

“I read in my hometown paper where Nixon said we were not backing the A.R.VJ4. (South Vietnamese) in Laos.

“Well if we’re not backing the A.R.VJ4. what in hell are we doing here at Khe Sanh, buddy boy?” “Yeah,” responds another. The “pot” comes out and talk turns- easily to girls. Khe Sanh Valley was once home to 10,000 Montagnards or mountain people. No trace Now, there is not a trace to show they ever lived here in stilted homes on the hillside hacking out strips of land to cultivate from the virgin jungle. Khe Sanh town, where about 4000 ethnic Vietnamese, manly workers in a French coffee plantation, once lived, is devastated. The jungle creeps back. Only the shells of the planters’ homes remain, standing amidst petrified, - defoliated trees. A waterfall tinkles and grateful G.l.s and South Vietnamese soldiers bathe naked, washing off the choking dust. Cobra helicopter gunships, on vicious errands of death in neighbouring Laos, dance overhead. Their pilots, who do not wear peace symbols or love beads, had initiated two new members to their close-knit fraternity at Quang Tri base the previous night, pouring beer over their heads and singing their grim song: “You’ll go home in a body bag, doo-dah, doo-dah,

“You’ll go home in a body bag, doo-dah, doo-dah day.

“Shot between the eyes, “Shot between the thighs, “You’ll go home in a body bag. doo-dah, doo-dah day.” Behind the pleasant, natural sound of running water is the terrific detonation of bombs, and the clump of artillery strikes. Troops of the U.S. America! Division—most of them still at school when the My Lai massacre took place—emerge from the jungle after patrolling the Laotian border. Absurd exchanges They lament the loss of a brave commander and tell stories of absurd exchanges between American and North Vietnamese officers over field radios when lines cross. The commander was shot down while flying in an observation helicopter searching out North Vietnamese. | “The Dinks (North Vietnamese) popped up smoke

signals and he went down thinking it was friendly troops,” said one G.I. “They got him with 51mm. antiaircraft fire, and they haven’t got the chopper out yet” They all look up as a Chi-, nook rescue helicopter passes overhead, carrying beneath it a small observation helicopter, dangling like a wounded bird, back to Khe Sanh.

The crossed lines occur along the Laotian border, where in one attack the North Vietnamese actually called out the names of some of the U.S. troops defending a perimeter. The North Vietnamese had been listening from the jungle to the soldiers’ conversation and picked up names.