THE GENERAL GOES ZAPPING CHARLIE CONGNewspaper editors are fond of arguing that the New Journalism cannot be adapted to daily journalism, either on the grounds that it works only with trivial ("PoP '') sub;ects or breaks down under the demands of deadlines. In 1966 Nicholas Tomalin was one of England's leading investigative reporters, a "hard news" ;ournalist of great repute, when he used the techniques of the New Journalism to write this story. He went on the Zapping mission with the General and wrote the story in a single day. It had the most astonishing impact in England, creating for English readers the emotional reality of the war. . . and a somewhat horrified fascination in it. Tomalin was, in fact, writing for a weekly, the Sunday Times, which takes some of the edge off his feat; nevertheless, writers on dailies could achieve this sort of effect fairly often, I am convinced, if they were trained and encouraged to do so. Jimmy Breslin used to manage it with regularity. Not many newspaper writers have the talent or moxie of Tomalin and Breslin. But there is a worse problem: not many newspaper editors want to know that it can even be done.-T. W After a light lunch last Wednesday, General James F. Hollingsworth, of Big Red One, took off in his personal helicopter and killed more Vietnamese than all the troops he commanded. The story of the General's feat begins in the divisional office, at Ki-Na, twenty miles north of Saigon, where a Medical Corps colonel is telling me that when they collect enemy casualties they find themselves with more than four injured civilians for every wounded Viet Cong-unavoidable in this kind of war. The General strides in, pins two medals for outstanding gallantry to the chest of one of the colonel's combat doctors. Then he strides off again to his I guess he's just too scared of us today. knees apart. and trucks coming through a village knocked the canopy off a Buddhist pagoda." In the air the General chews two more filtertips and looks increasingly forlorn. fish-shaped canisters. a civilian. pouring dark oily smoke into the sky. That's why we zapp the whole forest. "Put me down at Battalion HQ. sir. and spreads 'out a polythene-covered map to explain our afternoon's trip. sir. "Nice. We settle into the smell of crushed grass. then get to killin' VC's will you?" Back through the crushed grass to the helicopter. and cleared Charlie Cong right out so we could run supplies up. The way I see it. and save lives. He comes from Texas. and zapp him. The trees and bushes burn. General. Strike coming in. "Aaaaah. When we got here first we prettied up those roads. United States Army (which is what the big red figure one on his shoulder flash means). 1st Infantry Division. Nice. His present rank is Brigadier General. "Our mission today. walking through there?" "Aw come son. I'm just like any other company boss.. things haven't gone too well. his shiny black toecaps jutting out into space. "Reports of fire on choppers ahead. a bulldozer's fallen through a bridge. Under this interlacing of helicopters lies the apparently peaceful landscape beside Routes 13 and 16. and zapp him again till we've zapped him right back where he came from. beyond it a large settlement of red-tiled houses. reminiscent of every movie general you have seen. each as big as a small dustbin. So far today.. where we keep our artillery. The General sits at the helicopter's open door. and a couple of CS anti-personnel gas-bombs." "Goddam the snipers. "Why General. Assistant Division Commander. except I don't make money." says a sweating major. light orange fire explodes in patches along an area fifty yards wide by three-quarters of a mile long. an apple-cheeked subaltern from California. we didn't expect you here.helicopter. Bravo and Charlie have assaulted a suspected Viet Cong HQ. Just beside the General is a radio console where he can tune in on orders issued by battalion commanders flying helicopters just beneath him. found a few tunnels but no enemy. you think there's folks just sniffing flowers in tropical . Well Major. The smoke position was a guess. you spread out your perimeter here a bit. dropping a trail of silver.One general has got his helicopter in to inspect the collapsed bridge before ours. real American face. "I guess we've . Saigon radioed us to repair that temple before proceeding-in the way of civic action. The second plane dives and fire covers the entire strip of dense forest. Route 16 is to the right. I just kill people. gingering up the boys all the time.been hither and thither with all our operations since. two dozen smoke-bombs. and thinks. "Swing us back along again. It also carries the General's own M 16 carbine (hanging on a strut). let's see who's left down there. No action on Route 16. After four seconds' silence. personnel carriers. Down the road a piece we've hit trouble. The General leaps out and strides through his troops. and another Big Red. "is to push those goddam VCs right off Routes 13 and 16. then one passes over the smoke." cries the General. Let's go. "I don't know how you think about war. two 60-calibre machinegunners. an' the 01' VC he's reckoned he could creep back. That put us back an hour . helicopters and milling GIs.· and is 48. "You killed any 'Cong yet?" "Well no General. sir. and his aide. filled with farmhouses and peasants hoeing rice and paddy fields. "Strike coming in. Smoke flare near spot. The General has a big. General. split." A plume of white rises in the midst of dense tropical forest." "But what if there was someone. rolls a filtertip cigarette to-and-fro in his teeth. So this day we aim to zapp him. Companies Alpha. with a Bird Dog spotter plane in attendance." Battalion HQ at the moment is a defoliated area of four acres packed with tents. He's been puttin' out propaganda he's goin' to interdict our right of passage along those routes. and company commanders in helicopters just below them. Now you see Routes 13 and 16 running north from Saigon toward the town of Phuoc Vinh. Come in low. "There's sniper fire reported on choppers in that area." says the General. Very neat. Napalm." "How do you know for sure the Viet Cong snipers were in that strip you burned?" "We don't. excuse us." The General's UH 18 helicopter carries two pilots. Dennis Gillman. Yes." "Go find that smoke." says the General. just put me down." Two F105 jets appear over the horizon in formation." he calls to the pilot. " "Yeah. down there. "Zapp. Our captive cannot be more than sixteen years old. In considerable panic I fumble with an unfamiliar seatbelt as the helicopter banks round at an angle of fifty degrees. two running for that bush. Further blood is pouring from under his shirt. on my arm... He is dazed. The General falls back off his seatbelt into his chair. his head comes just about up to the white name patch-Hollingsworth-on the General's chest. The prisoner falls across Lieutenant Gillman and into the seat beside me. that's no good. "Radio base for an ambulance. its trunk is enveloped with dust and tracer flares.." Lieutenant Gillman immediately clambers across me to get the second gas bomb." "Smokebomb. slams in a clip of cartridges and leans right out of the door." cries the General. pow. All the noises of this war have an unaccountably Texan ring." The General pokes with his carbine first at the prisoner's cheek to keep his head upright. each gunner firing cautionary bursts into the bushes. Now watch it everyone. "Now hit the tree. sounds the gun. Gillman offers me his gun: No thanks. "Jesus wept. his tracers bouncing up off the ground round it. WANT YOU TO SHOOT RIGHT . No hat. just stay with us till we talk to you. "That's different son. hanging on his seatbelt to fire one long burst in the general direction of the bush. Gillman and the General are now firing carbines side by side in the doorway. fine-boned wild animal. tearing the bags. then at the base of his shirt. lower circles. The figure walks towards us." . No shoes. • Then a man runs from the tree." says the General. "Or they'd be skedaddling. zapp. how do you know those aren't just frightened peasants?" "Running? Like that? Don't give me a pain. leaves fly. "Look at that now. from some nervous impulse. The red flags I spotted from the air are his hands. We turn clockwise in ever tighter. keep firing roundabout." Fourth time round the tracers flow right inside the tiny sandbagged opening. gentle laugh. A shower of spent cartridge cases leaps from the General's carbine to drop. squeezing his thumb and finger into the sign of a French chef's ecstasy. ASS OF THAT HOLE GUNNER. Down. We know they're genuine. down. beside the house.. where in hell are the cartridges in this ship?" The aide drops a smoke canister. and blasts the farmyard full of chickens into dismembered feathers. I have to keep my hand firmly pressed against his shoulder to hold him upright." Lieutenant Gillman leans his canister out of the door. in each hand a bright red flag which he waves desperately above his head. and lets out an oddly feminine. bobbing and sprinting across the farmyard towards a clump of trees dressed in black pyjamas. I want this Commie bastard alive till we get back . knocking the machine-gun so tracers erupt into the sky. the clips. filling it with sand and smoke. Yes there is. over his trousers. As the pilot calls. His eyes calmly look first at the General. he drops it. suddenly relaxed. "That's a Cong for sure. maybe a bunker. He is now using semi-automatic fire." "I see them. pow. zapp. Get the information officer with a camera." he says." We sink swiftly into the field beside the tree." I point at a paddy field full of peasants less than half a mile away. he's quit. by golly. bangs hard against the helicopter wall. The first burst of fire tears the roof open. "There's nothing alive in there. "Stop. The clips. The Lieutenant applies a tourniquet to his right arm. goddam you. this may be an ambush. "Gas bomb. . lootenant. in shock.vegetation like that? With a big operation on hereabouts? Anyone left down there. covering it with vapour." shouts the General. Now we are safely in the air again." For the first time I see the running figure... "You still thinking about innocent peasants? Look at the weaponry." he says. He is quivering. An explosion of-white vapour spreads across the wood a full hundred . he's Charlie Cong all right.. pushing me sideways into his own port-side seat. turning to me. He resembles a tiny. and turns to me. baby. shift it. everyone firing." The pilot shouts: "General. yards downwind." "But General. ''I'm going down to take him. circle. Branches drop off the tree. then at the Lieutenant. "General." cries the General in triumph and with one deft movement grabs the man's short black hair and yanks him off his feet. stop." In one movement he yanks his Ml6 off the hanger. half right. . We circle now above a single-storey building made of dried reeds." We circle five times. inboard . "I . then at me. lukewarm. bathed solidly in blood. Sometimes his left foot. the carbine bucking in his hands. Pow.. The second gas bomb explodes perfectly. "That's it. shatters one wall into fragments of scattered straw. there's a hole. UP . the General finds his ammunition and the starboard machine-gunner fires rapid bursts into the bush. THE . Obviously a burst of fire has shattered his right arm up at the shoulder. like a pig or a cow did yuh? Well then.) folded in it.IPtime and time again back in the State for shootin' up YCs. An' there's nothing I love better than killin' 'Congo No. but no one's been along with me like you before. a tiny roll of bandages. "But when them YC come back harassin' that Route 16 why. Lieutenant Gillman looks concerned. but they've got a smaller area to protect. as regulations dictate. then clambers up into the cabin again. 6d. sir. It wasn't safe moving along Route 16 at night. and a propaganda leaflet which later turns out to be a set of Viet Cong songs. "You see son. I agree there was chickens for food with them. When the ambulance has driven off the General gets us all posed round the nose of the chopper for a group photograph like a gang of successful fishermen. By the time I have fastened myself into yet another seat we are back at the landing pad. strung up on a PQl~. flexible." Later that evening the General calls me to his office to tell me the prisoner had to have his arm amputated. although patrols would be near there. Ambulance orderlies come aboard. The General is magnanimous in his victory over my squeamish civilian worries. for a picture to show just how he zapped those YCs. and rip open his shirt." "The Koreans manage it. its surface streaked with white nerve fibres and chips of bone (how did he ever manage to wave that arm in surrender?). "There's no beter way to fight than goin' out to shoot YCs. And." The General wasn't certain whether further troops would go to the farmhouse that night to check who died. would they? Well. The cut shirt now allows a large bulge of blue~red tissue to fall forward. that one. I saw rifles on that first pair of running men. by the way you musn't imagine there could have been ordinary farm folk in that house. You didn't see anything bigger. An' firin' on us first. son. The helicopter adds a new dimension to battle." "Yeah. All the way from Peking. Why Big Red One ranges right over-I mean up to the Cambodian Border. when you're as old a veteran as I am you get to know about those things by instinct. I've been written I. and fire at helicopters." "Wouldn't it be easier just to stay there all the time?" "Why. Before he went under." he mouths at the prisoner. quickmoving. boy. this is a new kind of war. and is now in the hands of the Vietnamese authorities. he told the General's interpreters that he was part of a hardcore regular YC company whose mission was to mine Route 16. "I'll say perhaps your English generals wouldn't think my way of war is all that conventional. at my request. a water bottle (without stopper). there was another big operation elsewhere the next day. There ain't no place on that map we ain't been. He is euphoric. "It's OK. Us generals must be on the spot to direct our troops. cut it up." He gives me the Viet Cong's water bottle as souvenir and proof. Didn't tell you that at the time.Around the prisoner's waist is a webbing belt." . with a twenty piastre note (about Is. you're OK. administer morphine. "Jeez I'm so glad you was along. we'll zapp them again. So much for your fellers smell in' flowers. we haven't enough troops as it is. "That's proof positive they was firin'at us all the time. "That's a chicom bottle." We even find a bullet hole in one of the helicopter rotor blades. And when they come back after that we'll zapp them again. that worked out just dandy. Big Red One is always on the move. who at that moment turns to me and with a surprisingly vigorous gesture waves his arm at my seat. with four clips of ammunition. He wants to lie down.
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