The Men and the Moment by Aram Goudsouzian

912bqhvi0ynl

The velocity of events in 1968 are staggering. Their importance is underscored by the need for only a word or a phrase to appreciate their significance. The events remain not just historically important, but cultural touchstones. Tet. LBJ not running. MLK in Memphis. RFK at the Ambassador. Chicago Democratic Convention. Columbia University sit-in. Nixon’s comeback. Earth rise aboard Apollo 8.

In the midst of this upheaval, America not only elected a new president, but also witnessed a change in how the candidates were chosen—and the birth of a profound realignment of the party system.

Aram Goudsouzian, a University of Memphis history professor, examines the eight men who vied to be the next president in The Men and the Moment: The Election of 1968 and the Rise of Partisan Politics in America (University of North Carolina, 240 pp., $25). This brisk and accessible (147 pages of text) study focuses on the character of the candidates and their responses to the moment.

Despite its brevity and its heavy reliance on secondary sources, the sixty pages of end-notes evince the book’s meticulous research. Goudsouzian leans particularly on contemporary articles from the New York Times, Time, U.S. News & World Report, and Newsweek, among others.

The 1968 political cycle marked the final stand of the political machines in choosing a candidate. Strong showings and even victories in the primaries did not translate into delegates, as the party leaders had the ultimate discretion in choosing their candidate. This fact cannot be emphasized enough, for despite Eugene McCarthy’s quixotic insurgency, Robert Kennedy’s star power, Nelson Rockefeller’s muddled efforts, and Ronald Reagan’s patient opportunism, the eventual candidates always were likely to be Nixon and, after LBJ’s decision not to run, Vice President Humbert Humphrey because of their work in securing the delegates.

Even though he announced he would not run, Lyndon Johnson remained the de facto leader of the Democrats, which meant that Humphrey’s delegates were actually Johnson’s, effectively handcuffing Humphrey’s campaign. Mixed into this mélange was Alabama Gov. George Wallace, who ran one of the most successful—albeit the most despicable—third party campaigns in American history.

Goudsouzian proficiently explores each man’s character and ambitions, though the work’s concision and use of anecdotal evidence can at times veer into sensationalism. Were the Chicago police really chanting, “Kill, kill, kill” at the Democratic Convention? Did Johnson yank out his penis in response to a reporter’s question about why the U.S. was in Vietnam? Though entertaining, these seem apocryphal.

Goudsouzian proffers a fine analysis of the “New Politics” campaigns directed to the people through rallies and modern technology, but he all but ignores the critical William F. Buckley-Gore Vidal television debates. It is telling that Buckley is grouped in with the John Birch Society, the right-wing group he helped de-legitimize, and that there are more references to Stalin and Hitler (three) than to Vidal and Buckley (one).

767678889

The chapter on Nixon is, perhaps ironically, titled “The Loser,” and this moniker is repeated throughout the book. Goudsouzian frequently invokes Nixon’s use of the “silent center,” but Nixon did not use this phrase until November 1969. Though credited with the greatest comeback in American political history, there is perhaps too much presentism on Nixon, the eventual winner of this consequential campaign.

There is a reason that this is at least the fourth book in as many years devoted exclusively to the 1968 election. While the material is well trod, Goudsouzian has provided a useful perspective and enjoyable precis on the candidates and their times.

–Daniel R. Hart

Advertisements

A Dusty Boot Soldier Remembers by Larry A. Redmond

51qnn8qnbsl-_sx331_bo1204203200_1

A Dusty Boot Soldier Remembers: Twenty-Four Years of Improbable but True Tales of Service with Uncle Sam’s Army (Hellgate Press, 574 pp., $27.95, paper) is a Horatio Alger story: A boy from “Fly Town U.S.A.” (the poorest section of Columbus, Ohio) finds success as a U.S. Army colonel and, after retirement, becomes a representative for two large corporations.

In this autobiography, Larry A. Redmond walks the reader through his experiences in military training, work, and combat assignments. “Redmond’s Rules,” twenty-five directives to becoming a more effective leader, punctuate the book.

Spanning the years 1962-87, Redmond’s experiences included different jobs in many parts of the world. His recollections often teach history lessons that compare the time of the draftee Army to the present structure of all-volunteer soldiers, which began in 1973.

Commissioned upon graduation from Providence College, Redmond completed jump school and Ranger training and by 1964 was commanding a company. He recalls peacetime field exercises and housekeeping duties such as his paying the troops in cash at the end the month. He then joined Special Forces and served in Panama before going to Vietnam. His two tours with the 101st Airborne Division in I Corps highlight the book.

Redmond’s first tour in Vietnam in 1967-68 ended with what he called “thirty-six hours of purgatory”: leading his company in Hue during the Tet Offensive. The accounts of maneuvers in the field provide a textbook for combat leadership. Redmond candidly describes both his right and wrong moves. As a result of wounds he received at Hue, he spent many unconscious days and three conscious weeks in intensive care. Eight months of rehabilitation followed.

During his second tour in 1971-72, Redmond encountered an unexpected world of drug abuse and racial tension. Vietnamization had transformed Americans basically into spectators awaiting the end of their involvement in the war. Even senior U.S. leaders were marking time. Recognizing this, the NVA often avoided contact. In his duties as S3 and eventually acting battalion commander, Redmond attacked problems ignored by previous leaders.

In six months, he renewed a sense of STRAC among his men; tore down an on-base hootch that was basically a drug den; thwarted a large-scale NVA attack by diverting a B-52 Arc Light strike; put down a rebellion by a group of black soldiers known as the Phu Bai Thirteen; and foiled a plot to frag him. When his unit rotated stateside early, Redmond stayed on as a J3 with MACV during the 1972 NVA Spring Offensive.

Following the war, Redmond’s career path meandered. He was a member of a United Nations peacekeeping team for the 1973 Yom Kipper War. He went to Thailand in 1975-76 with a casualty resolution group. Redmond provides insightful history regarding both tasks, particularly on MIA-POW issues.

portrait

Larry Redmond

Back at Fort Bragg in 1976, he deployed to Germany and Panama and Alaska, eventually commanding an 82nd Airborne battalion. He spent seven years at Bragg and tells interesting stories about the Army’s peacetime preoccupation with selling the product—namely wartime capabilities—through exercises, deployments, and demonstrations.

Reading between the lines I concluded that during Redmond’s years of service relationships among officers radiated a good-old-boy aura. Friendships provided as much advancement and favoritism as outstanding performances did.

Redmond wrote this book, he says, at the urging of his children who wanted a record of his accomplishments. Beyond satisfying them, the book offers a clearly detailed picture of a quarter century of Army life during transitional periods.

—Henry Zeybel

 

 

The Box by Lynne Lorine Ludwick

51iskk0syxl-_sx331_bo1204203200_

The Box: A Memoir (Lockwood and Ludwick, 182 pp., $10, paper) by Lynne Lorine Ludwick is a tribute to the author’s uncle who was killed in action in Vietnam in 1968. Ludwick looked up to her “Uncle Eddy” Schultz, who was three years younger, as a friend, playmate, and schoolmate. He was “more like a brother,” she writes. She idolized him as “the good cowboy. The one who saves the day.”

Along with recalling happy memories of growing up with Eddy in California, Ludwick also describes the life of an unidentified Vietnamese man born at the same time as her uncle. The difference in the two men’s lives from birth until their confrontation on a battlefield were as opposite as peace and war. Eddy Schultz grew up in idyllic farming surroundings. His counterpart endured the turmoil leading to Vietnam freeing itself from French colonial control. At the age of fourteen, he joined the Viet Cong.

Ludwick’s writing about the Vietnam War, particularly antiwar protests, is different than anything I have read on the topic. Her prose reflects undercurrents of innocence, wonderment, anger, compassion, subdued outrage, sorrow, puzzlement, and revelation. At times, her mood takes command of the story, which makes the book both refreshing and enjoyable.

In describing combat action, she relies heavily on recollections of men who served with Eddy and saw him die. She met them at his unit’s reunions. She quotes from letters Eddy wrote to his parents, which do not speak of combat.

71nc1vdab3l-_sx150_

Lynne Lorine Ludwick

Eddy Schultz’s story is sadly familiar. Drafted into the Army in August, he completed basic and infantry AIT arrived in Vietnam in January 1968. Assigned to Dau Tieng, he served as an RTO on search and destroy operations. In response to the 1968 Tet Offensive, his battalion operated at an accelerated pace. The unit engaged in a six-day battle at Tan Hoa in mid-February, and soon after was ambushed at Hoc Mon where Eddy was killed.

The “box” of the title contained a gift indirectly sent to Ludwick from a Viet Cong soldier who had fought in the battle for Hoc Mon—more than forty years earlier. The gift prompted Ludwick to write the book.

—Henry Zeybel

A Monument to Deceit by C. Michael Hiam

C. Michael Hiam’s A Monument to Deceit: Sam Adams and the Vietnam Intelligence Wars, first published in 2006 under the title Who the Hell Are We Fighting? The Story of Sam Adams and the Vietnam Intelligence Wars, has been recently republished in paperback (ForeEdge, 352 pp., $24.95).

Hiam’s subject is what happened after Vietnam War CIA analyst Sam Adams discovered in 1968 that the U.S. was facing a Viet Cong army that was significantly larger than what other intelligence analysts believed—mainly because, Adams contended, Commanding General William Westmoreland pressured the top U.S. military leaders to overstate enemy casualty figures to make it appear that progress was being made in the war.

Kept quiet at the time, the issue burst into the national consciousness in 1982 when CBS TV aired the documentary “The Uncounted Enemy: A Vietnam Deception,” in which Adams told his story. Adams and CBS accused Westmoreland of leading a conspiracy to misrepresent enemy troop strength. In 1984 Westmoreland filed a $120-million libel lawsuit against CBS. At the very last moment, just as the trial was about to go to jury, Westmoreland dropped the suit, and CBS issued a statement standing by its claims, but saying it never meant to say that the general was unpatriotic.

In his book, Hiam tells Adams’ compelling life story, complete with blow-by-blow accounts of his muckraking at the CIA, and fascinating details of the CBS-Westmoreland trial, which some people called “the libel trial of the century.” Adams died in 1988.

Sam Adams in 1984

Hiam makes a case Adams was correct—and General Westmoreland was guilty as charged. The death and destruction that resulted from the 1968 Tet Offensive (including the deaths of 3,895 American military personnel), as well as the American public’s turn against the war after it was over, Hiam says, became “the legacy of Westmoreland’s intelligence operation at MACV.”

Hiam characterizes that as “a legacy of providing estimates that were born of political expediency, and a legacy that, as Sam Adams would try to tell his fellow Americans over the next two decades, fatally undercut all of the sacrifices that they had made in Vietnam.”

—Marc Leepson