South Viet Nam: And Now, Civil War

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It was the last determined gamble of Saigon's government to reassert its authority. Premier Nguyen Cao Ky was striking directly at rebellious elements in his own army and indirectly at the militant Buddhists. The clash began with the lightning predawn "invasion" of rebellious Danang by Vietnamese marines loyal to Premier Ky. Soon all the sound and fury of incipient civil war had enveloped the crucial northern base town: the clank of tank treads, the rattle of sniper fire, the sodden plop of tear-gas grenades, the sudden sky-shaking roar of strafing aircraft. Danang's chaotic clangor had its echoes in Saigon, where Buddhist demonstrators took fitfully to the streets—only to be dispersed by tough, green-clad riot cops. But beneath the sound and fury, the basic directions of the conflict were quite clear and quite chilling.

No Stomach. In Danang, Ky's strategy was simple but relentless. His 3,000 loyal troops—marines, airborne and Rangers—slowly drove the rebel force of 1,200 into an eight-block area centering on the east bank of the Danang River and three Buddhist pagodas. At the outset, neither side had any stomach for killing: most of the gunfire was purposely aimed high. Government tanks cleared street after street, carefully hosing them with .50-cal. machine-gun fire as they moved forward. Government spotter planes circled the rebel area, dropping leaflets that announced the appointment of General Huynh Van Cao as I Corps commander—the fourth in that thankless role since March—and demanding loyalty. Rebel gunners cut loose at the planes, and put bullets into an American L19 on reconnaissance, forcing it to make an emergency landing near by.

Corps Commander Cao flew off to 1st Division headquarters near Hue in an effort to woo rebellious officers back to Ky's side, but no sooner had he ended his speech and climbed aboard the U.S. helicopter that was to return him to Danang than a South Vietnamese lieutenant took a shot at the chopper. An American machine gunner cut him down with a single burst.

"Dodge City." Back in Danang, the courtesies were over. On the fifth day, the rebels gave up most of their checkpoints, pulled down their multicolored Buddhist flags from the tops of oil barrels, and—except for manning a few streets in the vicinity of the pagodas—spread out through the city as snipers. They were everywhere, firing at anything, and being answered fatally by the heavy firepower of Ky's troops. "Dodge City," grunted a Vietnamese marine. When one grenade-throwing rebel was captured, the loyalist officer in charge of the patrol wasted no words; he whipped out his pistol and shot the rebel through the chest.