WAR'S END STORltS: A Moment of Subdued Thanksgiving

AT last, a truce. At last, after a season of false moves and false dawns, the papers were signed. At last, after years of death and destruction, the war that four U.S. Presidents had considered a necessary act of resistance against international Communism was ending in an ambiguous stalemate. For the U.S., at least, it was over. In Viet Nam, fighting may well resume—or never entirely stop. Yet for the moment, those on all sides who had once sought victory now felt an exhausted sense of relief.

When President Thieu announced the settlement last week, Saigon burst out in a blaze of color. South Viet Nam's red-striped flag suddenly appeared everywhere. Banners strung from lampposts proclaimed a great victory. But the mood of the people did not match the display. There was no dancing in the streets, or anywhere else. There were no cheers, not even any more smiles than usual. At the Givral cafe, where politics are passionately argued over tea, only a single radio carried Thieu's message, and half the customers did not pay any attention. "It is only a piece of paper," remarked a government minister. "Its value depends entirely on the future."

The reaction in the U.S. was similarly subdued. In Wayne, Mich., Mayor Patrick Norton interrupted a debate of the city council to ask if the councilmen would like to hear President Nixon's speech on the settlement. They preferred to continue discussing a proposed apartment building for senior citizens. "I thought it all very strange," said the mayor. "We waited all these years for the war to be over, and then we were too busy to hear the announcement."

Bingo. Members of the NCO club at Fort Jackson, S.C., were also too busy. Only a dozen watched Nixon on television, while more than 300 continued to play bingo. When WLS-TV in Chicago interrupted the all-star basketball game to carry the President's speech, the station was flooded with calls from irate viewers. Like most public officials, Houston Mayor Louis Welch issued no formal statement. He explained: "People view the end of this war with more thanksgiving than celebration." The Boston Globe commented that the war concludes "not with a cheer but a sigh."

At the time the cease-fire was actually to go into effect, Richard Nixon led the nation in prayer. It was an extraordinary hour for him personally.

Regardless of the questions that would haunt the U.S. for years—whether this kind of peace could have been achieved earlier, whether all the violence, the death, the deviousness of the last four years were ultimately worth it—he had accomplished the American exit from Viet Nam. He had not achieved the terms he had originally proclaimed, but the U.S. was out and Thieu was still in office in Saigon.