Chapter One
The Way It Is
‘An adequate supply system and stocks of weapons and ammunition are the essential conditions for any army to be able to stand successfully the strains of battle. Before the fighting proper, the battle is fought and decided by the Quartermasters.’1
[Field Marshal Erwin Rommel]
Any soldier, of any rank, fighting in any theatre, at any time, if asked ‘What would you really like?’ would probably list ‘a freshly-cooked meal and a dry pair of socks’ high among his priorities.
The provision of that meal and those socks are the responsibility of his commander because keeping troops fed and clothed is a prime function of command, a matter wholeheartedly embraced by General Giap for one (see p. 36). It is incorrect to presume that ‘operations’ are in some way separate and divorced from ‘logistics’ because all operations are entirely dependent upon logistic support and the two are inextricably linked; it follows that logisticians are most emphatically combatants. Their role is usually unheroic and invariably unheralded.
This book will show that behind a successful general there is always an effective logistic and transport system. Logistics alone may not win a battle or a war, but they are a significant factor in victory or defeat, as they were in perhaps the greatest logistic exercise in war: the arrangements for D-Day and the battle for Normandy.
It is thought that the term ‘logistics’ dates from the nineteenth century and was coined by Baron de Jomini who adapted the French word logistique from loger, meaning to lodge. There is an alternative explanation and that is that the word stems from the Greek λογιστικός,, meaning accountant or responsible for counting. In a military context logistics is the all-embracing word that covers every aspect of supply.2
The campaigns covered in this book were fought in the face of challenging geographic, topographic and climatic conditions. The fighting was hard, but surviving in the jungles of Indochina made that fighting even harder. The climate and topography were a constant and unremitting second adversary and, in combination, made re-supply all the more difficult.
Logistics are the poor relation in military historiography and those who publish military history recognize that logistics are not a high priority because it is ‘muck and bullets that sells books’. It has ever been thus, and Kaushik Roy addressed this matter when he wrote that ‘most military officers-turned-historians focus on strategy, tactics and the operational level of war … The audience targeted by commercial publishers prefers campaign and battle studies that highlight the role of individuals and dramatise the exotic.’3
Similarly, Martin van Creveld remarked: ‘Hundreds of books on strategy and tactics have been written for every one on logistics.’4 This is illogical, as many if not most military campaigns are eventually decided by the superiority of one side over the other in supply terms. Examples of that are Napoleon in 1812 and Rommel at the Second Battle of El Alamein in 1942. In both cases, the defeated were at the end of vastly over-extended lines of communications and suffered the consequent supply difficulties. These are precisely the same circumstances that led to the loss of Kut in 1916.
Logistic support is mundane, routine and relatively unimportant, that is until it fails. Then, within forty-eight hours, it begets a crisis. Men (and horses) must be fed and watered, weapon systems must have ammunition, vehicles must have fuel and be maintained, the wounded must be cared for and the dead must be buried in marked graves. The list is endless and tedious. Roy is one of a small minority who have delved into the detail of logistics or ‘supply’, as it was called in 1914. He underscores the truism that ‘without supplies neither a general nor a soldier is good for anything.’5 This was a view expressed by Clearchus well over 2,000 years ago.
A perusal of a Waterstones bookshelf will offer a wide range of books on some aspect of military history. Some of the subjects have been done to death; for example, the Battle of the Somme, D-Day or the Battle of the Bulge. All have been extensively mined and reported on. They were centres of ghastly carnage. That carnage was the result of the combatants being furnished with the weapons and ammunition to kill the enemy in vast numbers; that is logistics in operation, although rarely highlighted.
Logisticians do not often attract public attention and when they do it is invariably because of a failure. Many years ago, the author was introduced to an elderly and long-retired American colonel. He was charming and, when asked about his service, he said that he was ‘Patton’s Petroleum Officer in the US 3rd Army in France, 1944.’
At the time, Patton’s 3rd Army was rampaging down through Europe and was using about 350,000 gallons of petrol each day. To maintain the tanks the ‘Red Ball Express’ was set up to meet his demands and also those of the US 1st Army. This was a non-stop convoy of trucks connecting supply depots in Normandy to the armies in the field; 6,000 trucks were employed. It was, by any yardstick, a major logistic exercise. As Patton advanced further, the demands placed on the ‘Red Ball’ grew faster than it was able to supply. Those 6,000 trucks were, themselves, consuming 300,000 gallons of fuel each day. On 28 August 1944, Patton’s army was forced to slow its advance when its fuel allocation fell 100,000 gallons short. Even though gasoline was available in Normandy, the ‘Red Ball’ could not transport it in sufficient quantities to the 3rd Army’s forward units. On 31 August, after the fuel supply dried up, Patton’s spearhead came to a halt. I said sympathetically to the colonel: ‘That must have been difficult?’ He gave a wry smile and replied: ‘You bet, he chewed on my ass!’
There were a number of knock-on effects resulting from Patton’s immobility: the 3rd Army began to use its larger-calibre artillery weapons, causing an ammunition shortage. Ammunition stocks became a problem because all available trucks were transporting fuel. As the Lorraine campaign continued, shortages would also be felt in clothing, rations, tyres and antifreeze for the fast approaching winter months.6
This anecdote shows that in this instance Patton’s generalship was flawed. He well knew of his dependence on fuel and must have realized that he would eventually outstrip his supply chain. ‘Chewing on the colonel’s ass’ was unreasonable because the responsibility was Patton’s and Patton’s alone.
To reiterate, ‘logistics are a function of command’. Wavell certainly thought so, remarking that ‘logistics are the crux of generalship, superior even to tactical skill.’7
This book will consider the logistic issues in three wars. In these pages, the temptation to produce lists of stores, vehicles and aircraft supported by detailed annexures has been resisted. That is because to do otherwise would separate the logistic from the operational of which it is an integral part and would make for a very tedious book. This text examines logistic factors against their operational setting. Along the way it will show that the acquisition and stockpiling of supplies in their myriad forms is a valueless exercise unless there is, readily available, the means to distribute those supplies; in a nutshell, the transport capacity of a force must match its demand. Winston Churchill was a seasoned campaigner and, more than a century ago, he averred that ‘victory is a bright-coloured flower. Transport is the stem without which it could never have blossomed.’8
This book will show that the great man was right on the mark and never more so than in Vietnam.
* * *
Map of Indochina. The battleground, 1945–75.
During the evening of 6 May 1954, in the north of Vietnam, French troops sheltered in their trenches as the Vietnamese artillery barrage thundered about them. Suffering an artillery barrage was then, and is now, one of the most frightening experiences known to man. When a shell hit a trench, the body parts of some defenders flew through the air. Other occupants of the unlucky trench were simply vaporized. Morale was low and the shelling drove it lower. The pungent smell of enemy dead outside the wire, decomposing in the hot humid climate, assailed the senses, as did the stomach-turning stench of latrines destroyed by the shelling.
The French troops, the majority of them colonial soldiers, only waited for the final assault on the ‘impregnable fortress’ of Dien Bien Phu (DBP) that they had defended since it was first besieged on 20 January. They knew that the enemy would come with grenades and bayonets; there would be no quarter. The men were exhausted, hungry and thirsty. There was no escape and many more were to die in the very near future. The French soldiers knew that there was no way out; 10,000 men had died or were ‘missing’ at Dien Bien Phu when the guns fell silent.9
By mid-May 1954, around the world, soldiers and historians were wondering how a sophisticated, modern Western army with massive American logistic support had been so comprehensively defeated by ‘a bunch of little guys in black pyjamas’, and who was this man Giap? It had been ‘a war in which logistics decided the outcome.’10 The USA had committed $3.5 billion to the fight – about 80 per cent of the total cost – but all for naught.
It is not the author’s purpose to re-fight the battles of Vietnam; they are fully documented elsewhere, as the bibliography shows. Instead, the outline of key events will be sketched but with a focus upon the logistic operations of the four armies engaged in Vietnam between 1945 and 1975. It will examine their political aims, the effectiveness of their endeavours to meet those aims, and specifically the manner in which they prepared and supplied their forces. Finally, it will compare the results and the costs in matériel and human terms. It will, in passing, seek to put into an appropriate context the behaviour of all soldiers in Indochina.
Chapter Two
The Battleground
‘The dominant feeling on the battlefield is loneliness.’1
[Lieutenant General Sir William Slim]
For hundreds, perhaps thousands of years, the combination of topography, climate and the dense forest made travel throughout Vietnam difficult for travellers and merchants alike. In 1945, some rivers could be navigated and the very limited and mediocre road/track system could be traversed with wheeled vehicles, albeit slowly.
Vietnam might well have been designed for revolutionary warfare but was absolutely unsuitable for conventional twentieth-century, Western-style, fast-moving, flexible military operations. Such operations depended upon the timely delivery of logistic support. The key word here is delivery. For that support to be effective, there had to be a defendable transport system in place.
For armies with a Western culture, Vietnam was a logistical nightmare. The difficulty of ground movement was exacerbated by the capacity of a guerrilla force to mount ambushes along rivers and roads.
It will be helpful to describe the territory over which, for thirty years, hundreds of thousands of people fought and died. The priority of the combatants was not ownership of this territory; it was but the setting for armed conflict.
In Vietnam, north of Hanoi and spanning the border with China, there is a range of hills and small mountains. The area is known as the Viet Bac and it provided safe haven for the Vietminh during the first war. The significance of Hanoi and its port of Haiphong is self-evident; they are both located on the delta formed by the Red and Day rivers. They access the sea in the Gulf of Tonkin by way of vast, centuries-old dykes built to channel the river water across the low ground. These dykes, despite their height and width, were thought by the USA to present Hanoi with a strategic weakness because, if breached, serious flooding would follow.2 In fact, Hanoi has always been susceptible to flooding and today, heavy monsoon rain regularly inundates the city.
A spine of mountains runs for about 350 miles down the border with Laos and this high ground, covered with thick vegetation, provided cover from view for the Ho Chi Minh Trail (of which more later) which traversed the mountains. These mountains are not high, but they are steep. In some parts there are areas of karst; that is to say tall, limestone pinnacles that have abundant caves in their bases. Some of these caves are of sufficient size to provide the facilities for the storage of ammunition and weapons, others for workshops and hospitals. They were fully utilized by General Giap. (More of this in Chapter 7.)
The low-lying areas of the country, both north and south of the 16th parallel, were cultivated and the abundant rainfall was exploited in rice fields surrounded by dykes. Navigation across these areas was either by way of u...