appreciated the fact that there were serious divisions within China, which, if handled adroitly by agencies such as the CIA, could help the fight against the PLA.
The President turned to Noyer. “Have we enough operatives of our own in China?”
“No, sir. That’s why it would be good to have some liaison with Taipei on this.”
“We already have liaison with them,” CNO Reese cut in. “Unofficially, of course.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Noyer replied. “But I mean at the highest levels.”
“Such as?” the President inquired.
Noyer decided to press a little. In the firm it was called covering-your ass. “I mean, sir, that if we had the chief executive’s authorization to negotiate a deal with Taipei.”
The President was doodling on his desk’s leather-bordered blotter. “All right,” he replied. “You have the chief executive’s go-ahead, Dave, but I caution you that if it’s screwed up in any way, no one in this room’ll remember anything about authorization.” He looked at Ellman and the Joint Chiefs. “Is that understood?” They nodded their assent.
“We’ll be discreet,” Noyer put in. “I have just the person in—”
“No!” the President cut in. “I don’t want to know whether it’s animal, vegetable, or mineral. Nothing! Nada!”
They all smiled in agreement. They were the President’s men.
“Of course,” the President added, his tone much lighter now that the serious decision had been made to help foment trouble in South China — or anywhere else along General Wei’s and General Wang’s supply line—”knowing you, Dave, you’ll probably have one of their goddamn pirates representing us.”
There was hearty laughter except, Ellman noticed, from David Noyer, who merely smiled politely. “The main thing,” the President said, grasping Noyer affectionately on the shoulder, “is that we help Freeman. Until he gets up to proper strength over there with men and materiel, he’ll need all the assistance we can give him.”
It was the understatement of the year.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The Chinese were pushing south all along the fifteen-mile Dong Dang-Lang Son front, with follow-up divisions from the Chengdu military region’s Fourteenth Group Army pouring through the hole punched out by artillery at Lang Son. Troops spilled down into the patchwork quilt fertile valley southwest of Loc Binh, eleven miles southeast of Lang Son.
Here they were joined by forward elements of several divisions, 34,000 men, from Guangzhou’s Fifteenth Group Army of 56,000 men. The remaining 22,000 troops were split between an infantry division of 13,000 and an airborne division of 9,099 officers and enlisted men and kept in reserve in and around Lang Son to help repulse any breakthroughs in what the PLA commanders knew would be the inevitable American-led U.N. and Vietnamese counterattack.
The two commissars — the political officers — of General Wei’s and General Wang’s armies had joined forces and convinced Wei of their argument to keep pushing south to Hanoi. Wang, however, was arguing that both group armies, while still north of Hanoi, should pivot eastward near Phu Lang Thuong, and instead of worrying about Hanoi, should head for the vital port of Haiphong, thirty-five miles to the east.
One of the political officers interjected, “Comrade, your plan to turn east toward Haiphong is most commendable militarily-”
“Commendable?” Wang cut in. “It is in my view essential.” His fingers jabbed at the map of northern Vietnam. “Haiphong is the tail of the American supply line. If we capture Haiphong, we can prevent supplies from Japan from ever reaching Freeman’s troops.”
“I have already said, comrade, that militarily this is sound — as far as it goes. But Hanoi is the
“Only another twenty-five miles south, comrade.”
Wang pointed to the map. “Twenty-five miles, comrade, can be a life’s journey. Yes, we have done well so far — because we have had the element of surprise — but now that is gone, and the Americans will soon launch an attack.”
“If we keep striking south, General, we will overrun Hanoi, and then the Americans will withdraw as they did once before, when Saigon fell. They will flee like rabbits, and Vinh’s Vietnamese will withdraw ever southward.”
“Will they?” Wang asked, his skeptical tone indicating quite clearly what he thought of the political officer’s conclusion.
“Yes,” the political officer answered, his confidence as evident as Wang’s skepticism. “The Americans, comrade, have no more stomach for another long war in Vietnam.”
Wang shook his head. “The Americans have no stomach for another
“Haiti,” the other political officer responded, “was nothing. Our young Communist pioneers could have taken Haiti.”
“I disagree, comrade.”
“I am not interested in Haiti,” the political officer said.
“But I’m interested, comrade,” Wang replied, “about your—” Wang thought carefully. “—your preoccupation with Hanoi. Is this truly your view or is this Beijing speaking?”
“I am with the party on this,” the political officer said.
There was a long, tense silence. No one wanted to lose face. Wang lit a cigarette, offering the packet around, the other three accepting graciously.
“I will go this far,” Wang proposed. “I will keep attacking south with General Wei’s army group on my right flank. If we meet strong resistance at Phu Lang Thuong, I will turn east toward Haiphong, calling on our reserves of the Fifteenth Group Army to reinforce my spearhead. I will use armor to race for the port and destroy the Americans before they can organize a full-scale counterattack. We will move at night and rest during the day, as General Giap did, and the North Koreans in their civil war — to avoid American air attacks.”
The political officers conferred. A compromise was reached: the generals would have ten days to take Hanoi. If they did not succeed, they would accede to General Wang’s strategy, and support him in a drive east to Haiphong. Wang was not satisfied, but it was two against one, with General Wei ready to follow whatever would be best for his career prospects.
“All right,” agreed Wang, “but I wish to draw your attention to the Americans’ industrial capability. I was a very young man when my grandfather told me stories about the American devils in Korea. They were all but driven into the sea, and for their Marines trapped at Chosin reservoir, it was the longest retreat in their history. But they counterattacked, comrades, and drove
“They had this capacity in the Vietnam War, General, and they were driven out.”
“The American public was not with them then.”
It was the political officer’s turn to be skeptical. “You think it is with them in this war, General?”
“The U.N. lackeys are with them,” Wang replied.
“Perhaps,” the political officer said, “but that can evaporate overnight. Is the American public with them?”
General Wang conceded the possibility that the American people’s support might be only transitory at best, that it might vanish overnight if he could inflict unacceptable casualties on the Americans — kill as many of them as possible in the shortest time. That was an aim both political officers and both generals could agree on. Wang was heartened by this thought — the fact that while the PLA had sustained 26,000 casualties in the three weeks of the 1979 war with Vietnam, the American public would simply not tolerate such losses. Finally, in the matter of numbers, China would always win. Every day in China another sixty thousand babies are born.
