The Lesson of Ben Het

WHAT will happen when the U.S. withdraws its ground forces from Viet Nam? The first trial run came at Ben Het, the embattled South Vietnamese outpost near Cambodia that was the well-publicized object of enemy pressure for 55 successive days. For the first time since the massive U.S. military buildup in 1965, South Vietnamese forces (ARVN) bore the brunt of a major ground action in the difficult border terrain. Though the siege last week was lifted and Ben Het remained in allied hands, the results were far from reassuring. "You can see it happening all the way to the beaches," said one U.S. general. "As we move back, they will inch right in behind us and smack hell out of whatever ARVN unit we leave in the way."

That may prove a premature and overly pessimistic prognosis, uttered in the midst of an engagement that left a sour taste in many an American's mouth. But there was no denying that Ben Het raised serious doubts about the military feasibility of American plans for orderly early withdrawal and disengagement in Viet Nam.

Like Khe Sanh and Con Thien to the north, Ben Het, which was completed in 1968, is an isolated fortification of bunkers and barbed wire that sits astride an important infiltration route. Inside its perimeters were 500 Montagnard irregulars led by a South Vietnamese Special Forces team of twelve and twelve U.S. Green Beret advisers. Initially, Ben Het could rely for added protection on the U.S. 4th Infantry Division, which was operating in the surrounding highlands. As part of a redeployment, U.S. infantry forces withdrew from the Ben Het area in April. The responsibility for the base passed to a South Vietnamese commander, Marine Colonel Nguyen Ba Lien of the 24th Special Tactical Zone. In accord with the U.S. policy of continuing to provide fire support for South Vietnamese ground forces, 500 American artillerymen remained dug in at key points in and around Ben Het. The biggest U.S. concentration was at Dak To, ten miles to the east, where 500 American combat engineers were also stationed.

Ominously, the North Vietnamese in early May began to mass two regiments in the area and occasionally to shell Dak To and Ben Het. In the past, the U.S. would have rushed American infantrymen to the aid of the South Vietnamese. This time they did not. In an effort to head off an attack, Lien sent South Vietnamese battalions into craggy mountains around the two bases. At first the South Vietnamese fought well and aggressively. But after a month in the field, they wearied. Unfortunately, the South Vietnamese still seemed incapable of fighting a prolonged and bloody engagement with the more determined and seasoned North Vietnamese regulars. In action reminiscent of the ARVN's performance in the mid-1960s, the South Vietnamese retired to their forts, leaving the initiative and the countryside to the enemy.

The ensuing siege strained relations between the South Vietnamese and the American battalion at Dak To. As support troops, the U.S. engineers and artillerymen were counting on the South Vietnamese to provide the security force for their base. But Lien refused. As a result, the Americans had to do double duty guarding their own perimeter, leaving the gun crews and work teams overworked and exhausted.

Far more serious was the situation on the road between the two bases. While working to keep the road open and in good repair, the American engineers could not depend upon the South Vietnamese for protection. On several occasions, the South Vietnamese refused to respond to pleas by ambushed engineers. Four weeks ago, a 20-man ARVN guard detail deserted a U.S. working party when North Vietnamese ambushers opened fire. Cursing their allies, the surviving Americans finally managed to drag their dead and wounded to safety. Over an eight-week period, the U.S. engineers lost 19 men killed and 120 wounded, in part because they received inadequate protection from their allies.

In mid-June, the North Vietnamese completely surrounded Ben Het and cut off virtually all ground access to it. Though ammunition remained plentiful, Ben Het's defenders suffered from a lack of fresh water and hot food. They also suffered from the lack of an on-the-spot commander. Directing the battle from his headquarters at Kontum, 30 miles southeast of Ben Het, Lien rarely flew into the besieged outpost. As a result, he was unable to make the most effective use of the massive U.S. air power and artillery that were put at his disposal. Communications between the various defending units were also poor. Meanwhile, communications to the outside world about Ben Het set cable and telex wires humming. Hard-pressed to find stories in an increasingly quiet war, the press corps in Viet Nam seized eagerly on Ben Het. Some stories even warned that the outpost might be overrun, a threat the North Vietnamese encouraged by code-naming the base Dienbienphu.

Perhaps in an attempt to counter such bad publicity, Colonel Lien explained his strategy to newsmen in Kontum. In excellent English, the cocky colonel confided that he deliberately used Ben Het as "bait" to lure the North Vietnamese into a position where allied firepower could destroy them. At Ben Het and Dak To, U.S. officers laughed openly at Lien's suggestion. U.S. headquarters in Saigon pointed out that General Creighton Abrams has specifically forbidden ever using allied men as bait.

Two days after Lien's press conference, the siege of Ben Het abruptly ceased, and the enemy faded away into Cambodia. A relief force of 1,500 South Vietnamese troopers last week encountered no resistance on their way to Ben Het. Why did the enemy withdraw? During the height of the attacks, North Vietnamese propagandists boasted that Ben Het represented "a humiliating failure for the U.S. in its plot to de-Americanize the war and use Vietnamese to kill Vietnamese." Having already lost 1,800 men in the battle, the North Vietnamese may have felt that they needed to waste no more lives to make their point.

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