The War: Cards on the Table

(See Cover) This was no MacArthur, moving Congress to tears at the end of a distinguished career with his threnody, "Old soldiers never die . . ." Nor was this an Eisenhower, home from his triumphant crusade in Europe to accept the lustrous tributes of the nation's lawmakers. This was a commander whose battle is far from finished, on leave from his post to report on a divisive, hotly debated and unpopular war. He will never be treated as a demigod, as was the charismatic MacArthur, and he is not yet a hero, as was Ike when he returned from Europe in 1945. Yet from the moment when House Doorkeeper William ("Fishbait") Miller swept down the center aisle of the packed chamber last week and announced, in his resonant Southern accent, "Mistah Speak-ah, Gen'ral William C. Westmoreland," the tall, tanned soldier held Congress in thrall.

He was the paradigm of the professional military man— dark hair fringed with grey, jaw square and trim, brown eyes alert under thick brown brows. His tunic was ablaze with the trophies of three wars — six tiers of campaign ribbons and medals from battles in North Africa and Sicily, France and Germany, Korea and Viet Nam, as well as the silver emblem of the master parachutist and the combat infantryman's badge.

His very presence in the House was unprecedented — no other military commander had ever addressed a joint meeting of Congress in the midst of a conflict that he was still directing. As straightforward as he is straight-backed, he delivered a speech that was strong but not strident, emphatic without being emotional.

"I stand in the shadow of military men who have been here before me," Westmoreland began, "but none of them could have had more pride than is mine in representing the gallant men fighting in Viet Nam today." Congress broke in to applaud him — and did so 19 times during his 28-minute speech. He drew an ovation when he touched, ever so lightly, on the delicate topic of antiwar protests. "In evaluating the enemy strategy, it is evident to me that he believes our Achilles heel is our resolve," said Westmoreland. "Your continued strong support is vital to the success of our mission." But he roused his audience to its greatest enthusiasm when, toward the very end, he declared forcefully: "Backed at home by resolve, confidence, patience, determination and continued support, we will prevail in Viet Nam over the Communist aggressor!"

When he was done and the applause washed over him, Westmoreland's face bore an expression of commingled embarrassment and pleasure. He turned to Vice President Hubert Humphrey and Speaker John McCormack on the dais behind him and saluted. Turning back toward the semicircular rows of seats, he saluted three times more—to those on his left, to those in front of him, and to those on his right. It was a gesture that came instinctively to him after 31 years as an officer, but as a symbol of deference by a military man to the nation's civilian representatives, it was also politically astute.