West Point ’41: The Class That Went to War and Shaped America

19 | The Chill of the Cold War

218 19 The Chill of the Cold War The dust had barely settled from the Inchon Invasion when another region of Communist insurgency revved up, and Herb Stern was ordered there. “Where the hell is Saigon?” he asked. It was the fall of 1950, and Stern was assigned to the U.S. Military Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG) dispatched to French Indochina to help curb the growing threat of Communism in the region. More specifically, the group’s role was to advise French forces on training and logistics; support them in their efforts to organize armies in Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia; and provide those armies with combat equipment. MAAG was also to furnish supplies and equipment to the French, who were embroiled in a dubious war against Communist nationals, the Viet Minh. In short, France had colonized the Indochina region in the late 1800s, while the Japanese wrested portions of it away in World War II. Following Japanese surrender, while the French reclaimed much territory lost, a nationalist party in the north of Vietnam, the Viet Minh—led by Communist Ho Chi Minh—declared itself a republic. The French had been trying to reestablish control of that northern area of Vietnam since. Upon hearing of Stern heading to this hot, tumultuous area of the world, Joe Reed offered a parting warning to his friend: “If I get orders to go there because of you, I’ll kill you.” Stern’s own skepticism over his tour emerged the minute he stepped on Vietnamese soil. He was immediately escorted to a Thanksgiving Day party at the U.S. diplomatic mission, where he spotted the illustrious de facto ambassador, Donald Heath. Heath was clad in a purple sharkskin suit, playing the piano. Stern tried to contain his mirth as he watched the diplomat from Kansas perform, his fingers merrily dancing across the keys. It’s a far cry from the Pentagon, Stern mused. He wasn’t sure if he’d landed in Saigon—or Oz. Kazel-Wilcox - West Point.indb 218 3/19/2014 5:40:16 PM the chill of the cold war ★ 219 Stern knew Heath was a career foreign service officer, having first started out as a White House correspondent. Most recently, Heath had been U.S. ambassador to Bulgaria till he was accused by that country of espionage and declared persona non grata. The U.S. responded by suspending diplomatic relations with Bulgaria.1 Stern lacked an inside track on the truth behind the two countries’ war of words. Stern settled into his office in Saigon, crammed into a former casino in the city’s Chinatown, called Cholon for “big market.” The atmosphere was frenetic, colorful, and insanely crowded. Streets were lined with small storefronts stacked like dominoes, hawking goods the likes of which Stern had never seen. Crooked awnings were plastered with Chinese and French lettering, neon signs flashed at every turn, and electrical wires crisscrossed the streets overhead like massive mounds of twisted spaghetti. Added to that was the omnipresent smell of incense mixed with occasional wafts of opium seeping out from behind the shuttered windows of opium dens. Stern’s memories of his duty governing Bavaria were bizarre. He had a feeling Indochina would shape up to be even more outlandish. He began handling supply logistics for combat materials including guns, trucks, and artillery slated for the Vietnamese, Laos, and Cambodian armies. All these materials, he discovered, had to be filtered through the French, and not all was on the up-and-up. Looking over one of their requests , he complained to his colleague, Dick Silver, an Air Force logistician. “The French requisitioned enough barbed wire to encircle Indochina three times,” griped Stern. “Apparently, they don’t want to get out and fight; they want to fence themselves in.” He also didn’t think the French very clever in ordering M1 rifles for local armies. “The rifles are bigger than they are!” exclaimed Stern to colleagues. He suggested shorter-barrel carbines, but his recommendation fell on deaf ears, and M1s it was. Shortly afterward, Stern was on the phone with his French logistical counterpart, Lieutenant Colonel Claude Robbaz, an officer with whom he’d become friends while attending the French War College. Asked Stern, “Claude, that shipload of rifles we supplied you . . . when will you be distributing them to your army units? I need to schedule an end-use inspection.” “You’re not hearing this from me,” answered Claude, “but those rifles are on a ship headed...