THE PHOENIX PROGRAM
BY DOUGLAS VALENTINE
CHAPTER 5:
BY DOUGLAS VALENTINE
CHAPTER 5:
PIC's
"A census, if properly made and exploited, is a basic source of intelligence. It would
show, for instance, who is related to whom, an important piece of information in
counterinsurgency warfare because insurgent recruiting at the village level is
generally based initially on family ties." [1]
As counterinsurgency expert David Galula notes above, a census is an effective
way of controlling large numbers of persons. Thus, while C.I.A paramilitary officers
used Census Grievance to gather intelligence in V.C-controlled villages, C.I.A police
advisers were conducting a census program of their own. Its origins are traced to
Robert Thompson, a British counter-insurgency expert hired in 1961 by Roger
Hilsman, director of the State Department's Office of Research and Intelligence, to
advise the United States and G.V.N on police operations in South Vietnam. Basing it
on a system he had used in Malaya, Thompson proposed a three-pronged approach
that coordinated military, civilian intelligence, and police agencies in a concerted
attack on the V.C.I.
On Thompson's advice, the National Police in 1962 initiated the Family Census
program, in which a name list was made and a group photo taken of every family
in South Vietnam. The portrait was filed in a police dossier along with each
person's political affiliations, fingerprints, income, savings, and other relevant
information, such as who owned property or had relatives outside the village and
thus had a legitimate reason to travel. This program was also instrumental in
leading to the identification of former sect members and suppletifs, who were then
blackmailed by V.B.I case officers into working in their villages as informers. By 1965
there were 7,453 registered families.[Talk about Tyranny,people not free to move around their own country,no wonder we were hated DC]
Through the Family Census, the C.I.A learned the names of Communist cell members
in G.V.N-controlled villages. Apprehending the cadre that ran the cells was then a
matter of arresting all minor suspects and working them over until they
informed. This system weakened the insurgency insofar as it forced political cadres
to flee to guerrilla units enduring the hardships of the jungle, depriving the V.C.I of its
leadership in G.V.N areas. This was no small success, for, as Nguyen Van Thieu once
observed, "Ho Chi Minh values his two cadres in every hamlet more highly than ten
military divisions." [2]
Thompson's method was successful, but only up to a point. Because many V.C.I cadres
were former Vietminh heroes, it was counterproductive for Political Action Teams
and counter terrorists to hunt them down in their own villages. Many V.C.I were not
terrorists but, as Galula writes, "men whose motivations, even if the counter insurgent
disapproves of them, may be perfectly honorable. They do not participate directly, as
a rule, in direct terrorism or guerrilla action and, technically, have no blood on their
hands." [3]
Thompson's dragnet technique engendered other problems. Mistakes were made, and
innocent people were routinely tortured or subject to extortion by crooked cops.
On other occasions V.C.I agents deliberately led Political Action Teams into arresting
people hostile to the insurgency. Recognizing these facts, Thompson suggested that
the C.I.A organize a police special branch of professional interrogators who would not
be confused with P.A.T's working to win hearts and minds. In 1964, at Thompson's
suggestion, the Police Special Branch was formed from the Vietnam Bureau of
Investigation and plans were made to center it in Province Intelligence Coordinating
Committees (P.I.C.C's) in South Vietnam's provinces.
Creation of the police Special Branch coincided with the reorganization of the
"Special Branch" of the Vietnamese Special Forces into the Special Exploitation
Service (S.E.S), the G.V.N's counterpart to the Special Operations Group. S.O.G and S.E.S
intelligence operations were coordinated with those of the Special Branch through the
C.I.O, though only at the regional and national level, an inadequacy the P.I.C.C's were
designed to overcome.
The birth of the police Special Branch also coincided with the Hop Tac (Pacification
Intensive Capital Area) program, activated in July 1964 to bring security to the
besieged capital. A variation on the oil spot technique, Hop Tac introduced twenty five
hundred national policemen into seven provinces surrounding Saigon. In October
1964 the National Identification and Family Census programs were combined in the
Resources Control Bureau in the National Police Directorate, and a Public Safety
adviser was placed in each region specifically to manage these programs. By
December 1964 thirteen thousand policemen were participating in Hop Tac, seven
thousand cops were manning seven hundred checkpoints, more than six thousand
arrests had been made, and A.B.C TV had done a documentary on the program. In the
provinces, Public Safety advised policemen-enforced curfews and regulations on the
movement of persons and goods under the Resources Control program.
Also in September 1964, as part of the effort to combine police and paramilitary
programs, Frank Scotton was directed to apply his motivational indoctrination
program to Hop Tac. Assisted by cadres from his Quang Ngai PAT team, Scotton
formed paramilitary reaction forces in seven key districts surrounding Saigon.
Scotton's cadres were trained at the Ho Ngoc Tau Special Forces camp where S.O.G
based its C.S program for operations inside Cambodia. Equipment, supplies, and
training for Scotton's teams were provided by the C.I.A, while M.A.C.V and Special
Forces provided personnel. Lists of defectors, criminals, and other potential recruits,
as well as targets, came from Special Branch files.
The aim of the motivational indoctrination program, according to Scotton, was to
"develop improved combat skills -- increased commitment to close combat -- for
South Vietnamese. This is not psywar against civilians or V.C. This is taking the most
highly motivated people, saying they deserted, typing up a contract, and using them in
these units. Our problem," Scotton said, "was finding smart Vietnamese and
Cambodians who were willing to die." [4][I bet that was a problem,as not many want to die for some other idiots idea DC]
The first district Scotton entered in search of recruits was Tan Binh, between Saigon
and Tan Son Nhut airport, where he extracted cadres from a Popular Force platoon
guarding Vinh Loc village. These cadres were trained to keep moving, to sleep in the
jungle by day and attack V.C patrols at night. Next, Scotton trained teams in Nha Be,
Go Vap, and Thu Duc districts. He recalled going two weeks at a time without a
shower, "sublimating the risk and danger," and participating in operations. "We had
a cheap rucksack, a sub machine gun, and good friends. We weren't interested in
making history in the early days."
So successful was the motivational indoctrination program in support of Hop Tac that
M.A.C.V decided to use it nationwide. In early 1965 Scotton was asked to introduce his
program in S.O.G's regional camps, in support of Project Delta, the successor to
Leaping Lena. Recruits for S.O.G projects were profit-motivated people whom Scotton
persuaded to desert from U.S. Special Forces A camps, which were strung out along
South Vietnam's borders. On a portable typewriter he typed a single-page contract,
which each recruit signed, acknowledging that although listed as a deserter, he was
actually employed by the C.I.A in "a sensitive project" for which he received
substantially higher pay than before.
The most valuable quality possessed by defectors, deserters, and criminals
serving in "sensitive" C.I.A projects was their expend-ability. Take, for example,
Project 24, which employed N.V.A officers and senior enlisted men. Candidates
for Project 24 were vetted and, if selected, taken out for dinner and drinks, to a
brothel, where they were photographed, then blackmailed into joining special
reconnaissance teams. Trained in Saigon, outfitted with captured N.V.A or V.C
equipment, then given a "one-way ticket to Cambodia," they were sent to locate
enemy sanctuaries. When they radioed back their position and that of the
sanctuary, the C.I.A would "arc-light" (bomb with B52's) them along with the
target. No Project 24 special reconnaissance team ever returned to South
Vietnam. [Nice folks these CIA Spooks,sending others on missions they would never do themselves,total cowards DC]
Notably, minds capable of creating Project 24 were not averse to exploiting deviants
within their own community, and S.O.G occasionally recruited American soldiers
who had committed war crimes. Rather than serve time in prison or as a way of
getting released from stockades in Vietnam or elsewhere, people with defective
personalities were likely to volunteer for dangerous and reprehensible jobs. [Minds? more like psychopaths DC]
In June 1965 Colonel Don Blackburn[head psychopath DC] commanded S.O.G. His staff numbered around
twelve and included the commanders of the First and Fifth Special Forces groups, plus
various special warfare Marine, Air Force, and Navy officers. S.O.G headquarters in
Saigon planned operations for the four hundred-odd volunteers in its operational units.
However, 1965 was rough going for border surveillance. The Montagnards were no
longer effective after their revolt, and as compensation, Project Delta was organized to
provide intelligence for newly arrived U.S. Army and Marine divisions. About the
paramilitary police, S.O.G, and pacification programs he and his compatriots
developed, Scotton said, "For us, these programs were all part of the same thing. We
did not think of things in terms of little packages." That "thing," of course, was a
grand scheme to win the war, at the bottom of which "were the province interrogation
centers.
💣💣💣💣💣💣💣
John Patrick Muldoon, Picadoon to the people who knew him in Vietnam, was the
first director of the P.I.C program in Vietnam. Six feet four inches tall, well over two
hundred pounds, Muldoon has a scarlet face and a booming bass voice remarkably
like Robert Mitchum's. He was friendly and not overly impressed with either himself
or the C.I.A mystique. That makes Muldoon one of the few emancipated retired C.I.A
officers who do not feel obligated to call headquarters every time a writer asks a
question about Vietnam.
A Georgetown University dropout, Muldoon joined the agency in 1958, his entry
greased by two sisters already in the C.I.A's employ. He did his first tour in Germany
and in 1962 was sent to South Korea. "I worked interrogation in Seoul," Muldoon
recalled. "I'd never been involved in interrogation before. Ray Valentine was my boss.
Syngman Rhee had been replaced by Park Chung Hee, who was running the show.
Park's cousin Colonel Kim Chong Pil was director of the R.O.K [Republic of Korea]
C.I.A. There was a joint K.C.I.A-C.I.A interrogation center in Yon Don Tho, outside
Seoul."
Here it is worth pausing for a moment to explain that in recruiting cadres for the
Korean C.I.A, the C.I.A used the same method it used to staff the Vietnamese C.I.O. As
revealed by John Marks in The Search for the Manchurian Candidate, the C.I.A sent its
top psychologist, John Winne, to Seoul to "select the initial cadre" using a C.I.A developed
psychological assessment test. "I set up an office with two translators,"
Winne told Marks, "and used a Korean version of the Wechsler." C.I.A psychologists
"gave the tests to 25 to 30 police and military officers," Marks writes, "and wrote up a
half-page report on each, listing their strengths and weaknesses. Winne wanted to
know about each candidate's ability to follow orders, creativity, lack of personality
disorders, motivation -- why he wanted out of his current job. It was mostly for the
money, especially with the civilians." [5]
In this way secret police are recruited as C.I.A assets in every country where the
agency operates. In Latin America, Marks writes, "The CIA ... found the assessment
process most useful for showing how to train the anti-terrorist section. According to
results, these men were shown to have very dependent psychologies and needed
strong direction" -- direction that came from the C.I.A. Marks quotes one assessor as
saying, "Anytime the Company spent money for training a foreigner, the object was
that he would ultimately serve our purposes." C.I.A officers "were not content simply
to work closely with these foreign intelligence agencies; they insisted on penetrating
them, and the Personality Assessment System provided a useful aid." [6]
Following his tour in Korea, Muldoon was assigned to Vietnam in November 1964. "I
was brought down to the National Interrogation Center [N.I.C] and told, 'This is where
you're going to work ....You're going to advise X number of interrogators. They'll
bring you their initial debriefing of the guy they're working on; then you'll give them
additional C.I.A requirements.'"
The CIA had different requirements, Muldoon explained, because "the South
Vietnamese wanted information they could turn around and use in their battle against
the Vietcong. They just wanted to know what was going on in the South .... But we
were interested in information about things in the North that the South Vietnamese
couldn't care less about. And that's where the American advisers would come in -- to
tell them, 'You gotta ask this, too.'"
"We had standard requirements depending on where a guy was from. A lot of V.C had
been trained in North Vietnam and had come back down as volunteers. They weren't
regular N.V.A. So if a guy came from the North, we wanted to know where he was
from, what unit he was with, how they were organized, where they were trained .... If
a guy had been North for any length of time, we wanted to know if he'd traveled on a
train. What kind of identification papers did he need? Anything about foreign
weapons or foreigners advising them. That sort of thing."
Built in 1964, the National Interrogation Center served as C.I.O headquarters and was
where civilian, police, and military intelligence was coordinated by the C.I.A. "It was
located down on the Saigon River," Muldoon recalled, ''as part of a great big naval
compound .... On the left was a wing of offices where the American military chief, an
Air Force major, was located. In that same wing were the chief of the C.I.O ... his
deputy and the C.I.A advisers." Muldoon referred to the C.I.O chief by his nom de
guerre, Colonel Sam. "There was only one C.I.O chief the whole time I was there," he
added, "up until August 1966. His deputy was there the whole time, too, and the same
interrogators."
Muldoon estimated there were several hundred prisoners in the N.I.C and four
interrogator-advisers. Muldoon was the fifth. Three were Air Force enlisted men
serving under an Army captain. Muldoon's boss, the C.I.A chief of the N.I.C, was Ian
"Sammy" Sammers, who worked under the station's senior liaison officer, Sam
Hopper, who had supervised construction of the N.I.C in early 1964.
One year later, according to Muldoon, "There was a conference in Nha Trang, in late
April 1965. They were putting together an interrogation center in an existing building
they had taken over, and they asked for help from the N.I.C. So I was sent up there with
the Army captain to look at the place, figure out what kind of staff we needed, and
how we were going to train them .... And while we were up there trying to break these
guys in, the police liaison guy in Nha Trang, Tony Bartolomucci, asked Sammy if
they could keep me there for this conference, at which all of our people were going to
meet Jack 'Red' Stent, who was taking over from Paul Hodges as chief of foreign
intelligence. Bartolomucci wanted to show off his new interrogation center to all these
big shots.
"The military people from the N.I.C had done their job," Muldoon continued, "so they
left. But I stayed around. Then Tucker Gougleman and Red showed up for this
conference. Tucker was chief of Special Branch field operations, and things were just
starting to get off the ground with the P.I.C's. A couple were already under way -- one
in Phan Thiet and one in Phuoc Le -- and Tucker told me, 'We're going to build, build,
build, and I need someone to oversee the whole operation. I want you to do it.'"
"So we had this big conference, and they packed the interrogation center full of
prisoners. Bartolomucci wanted to show off with a bunch of prisoners, so he got his
police buddies to bring in a bunch of prostitutes and what have you and put them in
the cells. I don't think they had one V.C in the place. After the conference they all went
back to the regular jail, and I went to work for Tucker."
John Muldoon spoke affectionately about Tucker Gougleman. "Tucker was loud and
foulmouthed, and he had a terrible temper; but it was all a big front. He was very easy
to get to know ... a likable guy. Always in a short-sleeved shirt and sneakers. He was
married three times, divorced three times. He had adopted a girl in Korea, and in
Vietnam he had what he called his family. He was back in Saigon trying to get them
out when he was picked up. When the evacuation was over, he was still there, staying
in the hotel. One day he came down, got off the elevator, walked into the lobby, and
they were waiting for him. They took him out, threw him in a car, and took him to the
National Police Interrogation Center. A French newspaper guy saw it happen. The
North Vietnamese denied they had him, but they returned his body about a year later.
"It's funny, but me and Tucker used to talk about the P.I.C's. He said something
like 'John, if we lose this war one day, we could end up in these god dammed
things if we get caught.'
"'Well,' I asked, 'what would you do if you were in there?'
"He said he thought he'd kill himself rather than go through interrogation. But he
didn't. The report I heard was that when his body got to the graves registration people
in Okinawa, the broken bones had yet to heal. So obviously they had tortured him
right up until the time he died. And I'd be willing to bet he didn't say a damn thing to
help them. I can see him spitting in their faces."
Muldoon laughed. "Tucker wanted to turn the PICs into whorehouses. The
interrogation rooms had two-way mirrors.
"Tucker was a hero in the Marine Corps in World War Two," Muldoon added. "He
joined the agency right after and worked with station chief John Hart in Korea,
running operations behind the lines. He was in Afghanistan and worked in training,
too. He got to Vietnam in 1962 and was base chief in Da Nang running everything that had to do with intelligence and paramilitary operations .... He was no longer the
Da Nang base chief when I arrived in Saigon," Muldoon continued, "but he hadn't
taken over field operations yet either. He was in Saigon trying to set up the
Province Intelligence Coordination Committees with Jack Barlow, a British guy
from M.I Six. Barlow had been in Africa and Malaya with Robert Thompson, and
they were the experts. They'd succeeded in Malaya, and we wanted them to show us
how to do it. Barlow and Tucker worked hand in hand. I shared an office with them at
the embassy annex -- which I had besides my office at the N.I.C -- and that's where I
first met Tucker."
Forerunner to the Province Interrogation Center program, the Province Intelligence
Coordination Committee program, established in November 1964, was designed to
extend C.I.O operations into the provinces. Each P.I.C.C was to serve as the senior
intelligence agency within each province and to guide, supervise, and coordinate all
military, police, and civilian operations.
"Barlow was the guy pushing the P.I.C.C's, and Tucker agreed it was a good idea,"
Muldoon recalled. "But they weren't able to convince the military to go along with
them. It was bought by us and the embassy, but not by the military, and that's the one
you needed -- 'cause they were the ones who initially had control of the prisoners.
And the Vietnamese military wasn't going to go along unless the U.S. military
approved it. So when the U.S. military said, 'Don't turn those prisoners over,' there
was no way we were going to get them. So the P.I.C.C project never got off the ground.
Then after the embassy bombing [February 1965] they had a reorganization, and
Tucker became chief of field operations. We started building the Province
Interrogation Centers, and it was thought that people would say, 'Hey, man, this is a
great spot! We'll send all our prisoners here!' and that then they'd start moving in and
set up the P.I.C.C's around the P.I.C's. But that never happened either.
"So after the Nha Trang conference we went down to Phuoc Le to set up a training
schedule for the P.I.C that had already been built down there. The paramilitary guy,
Pat, wanted to cooperate, and he had great relations with the province chief and the
military. The intelligence guy, Ben, was serious about making everything in his
province work. He wasn't happy that he got stuck with building the interrogation
center and being the adviser, but he wanted to be the best. And he had great relations
with the Special Branch and the C.I.O. Now some paramilitary and liaison guys didn't
even talk to each other, but together Pat and Ben were able to make the thing work. It
cost a lot of loyal Vietnamese their lives, but Ben would get hamlet informants to tell
us who the V.C were; then Pat would send the C.T's out to get the names."
What Muldoon described was the one-two punch of the counterinsurgency -- the
Province Interrogation Centers and the counter terrorists. Through the P.I.C's, the C.I.A
learned the identity and structure of the V.C.I in each province; through the C.Ts, the
C.I.A eliminated individual V.C.I members and destroyed their organization.
The problem with the Phuoc Le P.I.C, according to Muldoon, was its design. "Ben had
built his P.I.C with the guard posts outside each corner, so there was no way for the
guards to get back into the inner compound during an attack. Once the shooting
started and they ran out of ammunition, they were finished. So the first thing we did
was change the design so they were still on each corner and could see in all directions
but had a door leading inside the compound."
CIA architects settled on a standard design based on the modified Phuoc Le PIC.
Strictly functional, it minimized cost while maximizing security. Under cover of
Pacific Architects and Engineers (PA&E), the CIA's logistics staff hired local
Vietnamese contractors to build interrogation centers in every province. Funds and
staff salaries came from the Special Branch budget. After it was built, the CIA bought
the interrogation center, then donated it to the National Police, at which point it
became a National Police facility under the direction of the Special Branch. In
practice, however -- because they got their operating funds directly from the CIA --
Special Branch employees wielded more power than their supervisors in the National
Police, who received Aid-in-Kind funds indirectly from the Agency for International
Development through the National Police Directorate in Saigon.
Each provincial capital would eventually have a PIC. However, regional interrogation centers were built first and were larger, holding two to three hundred prisoners each. In IV Corps's regional capital, Can Tho, where the French had built a jail capable of holding two thousand prisoners, existing facilities were renovated. In choosing where to build in the provinces, each CIA regional officer selected priority provinces. Then, according to Muldoon, it was up to the liaison officer in the province to talk to the province chief and his C.I.O counterpart to find a spot near the provincial capital. "'Cause that's where our guy lived. Some of the guys had a hell of a time getting P.I.C's started," Muldoon noted, "because some province chiefs wanted money under the table."
Once the interrogation center was built, the liaison officer became its adviser, and Muldoon helped him recruit its staff. There were deadlines for each phase, and part of Muldoon's job was to travel around and monitor progress. "In one place construction would be half done," he recalled, "and in another they'd be trying to find a piece of land. It was a very big undertaking. We even had nit-P.I.C's, which were smaller versions for smaller provinces." Most interrogation centers were built or under construction by the time Muldoon left Vietnam in August 1966, at which point he was transferred to Thailand to build the CIA's huge interrogation center in Udorn, "where the CIA ran the Laos war from the Air America base." Muldoon was replaced as PIC chief in Vietnam by Bob Hill, a vice cop from Washington, D.C. Hill replaced Muldoon in Thailand in 1968.
One story high, fashioned from concrete blocks, poured cement, and wood in the shape of a hollow square, an interrogation center was four buildings with tin roofs linked around a courtyard. In the center of the yard was a combination lookout-water tower with an electric generator under it. "You couldn't get the guards to stay out there at night if they didn't have lights," Muldoon explained. "So we had spotlights on the corners, along the walls, and on the tower shooting out all around. We also bulldozed around it so there were no trees or bushes. Anybody coming at it could be seen crossing the open area." People entered and exited through green, steel-plated gates, "Which were wide open every time I visited," said Muldoon, who visited only during the day. "You didn't want to visit at night," when attacks occurred. P.I.C's were located on the outskirts of town, away from residential areas, so as not to endanger the people living nearby, as well as to discourage rubbernecking. "These were self-contained places," Muldoon emphasized. Telephone lines to the P.I.C's were tapped by the CIA.
On the left side were interrogation rooms and the cell block -- depending on the size, twenty to sixty solitary confinement cells the size of closets. Men and women were not segregated. "You could walk right down the corridor," according to Muldoon. "It was an empty hallway with cells on both sides. Each cell had a steel door and a panel at the bottom where you could slip the food in and a slot at the top where you could look in and see what the guy was doing." There were no toilets, just holes to squat over. "They didn't have them in their homes." Muldoon laughed. "Why should we put them in their cells?"
Prisoners slept on concrete slabs. "Depending on how cooperative they were, you'd give them a straw mat or a blanket. It could get very cold at night in the highlands." A system of rewards and punishments was part of the treatment. "There were little things you could give them and take away from them, not a lot, but every little bit they got they were grateful for."
Depending on the amount of V.C.I activity in the province and the personality of the P.I.C chief, some interrogation centers were always full while others were always empty. In either case, "We didn't want them sitting there talking to each other," Muldoon said, so "we would build up the cells gradually, until we had to put them next to each other. They were completely isolated. They didn't get time to go out and walk around the yard. They sat in their cells when they weren't being interrogated. After that they were sent to the local jail or were turned back over to the military, where they were put in POW camps or taken out and shot. That part I never got involved in," he said, adding parenthetically, "They were treated better in the PICs than in the local jails already there for common criminals. Public Safety was advising them, working with the National Police. Sometimes they had sixty to seventy people in a cell that shouldn't have had more than ten. But they didn't care. If you're a criminal, you suffer. If you don't like it, too bad. Don't be a criminal."
The interrogation process worked like this. "As we brought prisoners in, the first thing we did was ... run them through the shower. That's on the left as you come in. After that they were checked by the doctor or nurse. That was an absolute necessity because God knows what diseases they might be carrying with them. They might need medication. They wouldn't do you much good if they died the first day they were there and you never got a chance to interrogate them. That's why the medical office was right inside the main gate. In most P.I.Cs," Muldoon noted, "the medical staff was usually a local A.R.V.N medic who would come out and check the prisoners coming in that day."
After the prisoner was cleaned, examined, repaired, weighed, photographed, and fingerprinted, his biography was taken by a Special Branch officer in the debriefing room. This initial interrogation extracted "hot" information that could be immediately exploited -- the whereabouts of an ongoing party committee meeting, for example -- as well as the basic information needed to come up with requirements for the series of interrogations that followed. Then the prisoner was given a uniform and stuck in a cell.
The interrogation rooms were at the back of the PIC. Some had two-way mirrors and polygraph machines, although sophisticated equipment was usually reserved for regional interrogation centers, where expert interrogators could put them to better use. Most province liaison officers were not trained interrogators. "They didn't have to be," according to Muldoon. "They were there to collect intelligence, and they had a list of what they needed in their own province. All they had to do was to make sure that whoever was running the PIC followed their orders. All they had to say was 'This is the requirement I want.' Then they read the initial reports and went back and gave the Special Branch interrogators additional requirements, just like we did at the NIC."
The guards -- usually policemen, sometimes soldiers -- lived in the P.I.C. As they returned from guard duty, they stacked their weapons in the first room on the right. The next room was the P.I.C chief's office, with a safe for classified documents, handguns, and the chief's bottle of scotch. The P.I.C chief's job was to turn those in the V.C.I -- make them Special Branch agents -- and maintain informant networks in the hamlets and villages. Farther down the corridor were offices for interrogators, collation and report writers, translator-interpreters, clerical and kitchen staff. There were file rooms with locked cabinets and map rooms for tracking the whereabouts of V.C.I's in the province. And there was a Chieu Hoi room where defectors were encouraged to become counter terrorists, political action cadre, or Kit Carson scouts - - a play on the names Biet Kich and Kit Carson, the cavalry adviser who gave a reward for Navajo scalps. Kit Carson scouts worked exclusively for the Marines.
Once an interrogation center had been constructed and a staff assigned, Muldoon summoned the training team from the N.I.C. Each member of the team was a specialist. The Army captain trained the guards. Air Force Sergeant Frank Rygalski taught report writers how to write proper reports -- the tangible product of the PIC. There were standard reporting formats for tactical as opposed to strategic intelligence and for Chieu Hoi and agent reports. To compile a finished report, an interrogator's notes were reviewed by the chief interrogator, then collated, typed, copied and sent to the Special Branch, C.I.O, and C.I.A. Translations were never considered totally accurate unless read and confirmed in the original language by the same person, but that rarely happened. Likewise, interrogations conducted through interpreters. were never considered totally reliable, for significant information was generally lost or misrepresented.
Another Air Force sergeant, Dick Falke, taught interrogators how to take notes and ask questions during an interrogation. "You don't just sit down with ten questions, get ten answers, then walk away," Muldoon commented. "Some of these guys, if you gave them ten questions, would get ten answers for you, and that's it. A lot of them had to learn that you don't drop a line of questioning just because you got the answer. The answer, if it's the right one, should lead you to sixty more questions. For example," he said, "Question one was 'Were you ever trained in North Vietnam?' Question two was 'Were you ever trained by people other than Vietnamese?' Well, lots of times the answer to question two is so interesting and gives you so much information you keep going for an hour and never get to question three, 'When did you come to South Vietnam?'"
For Special Branch officers in region interrogation centers, a special interrogation training program was conducted at the N.I.C by experts from the CIA's Support Services Branch, most of whom had worked on Russian defectors and were brought out from Washington to handle important cases. Training of Special Branch administrative personnel was conducted at region headquarters by professional secretaries, who taught their students how to type, file, and use phones. This side of the program was run by a former professional football player with the Green Bay Packers named Gene, who chain-smoked and eventually died of emphysema. "In between puffs, he'd put this box to his mouth, squeeze it, and take a breath of oxygen," Muldoon recalled.
On the forbidden subject of torture, according to Muldoon, the Special Branch had "the old French methods," interrogation that included torture. "All this had to be stopped by the agency," he said. "They had to be retaught with more sophisticated techniques."
In Ralph Johnson's opinion, "the Vietnamese, both Communist and GVN, looked upon torture as a normal and valid method of obtaining intelligence." [7] But of course, the Vietnamese did not conceive the PICs; they were the stepchildren of Robert Thompson, whose aristocratic English ancestors perfected torture in dingy castle dungeons, on the rack and in the iron lady, with thumbscrews and branding irons.
As for the American role, according to Muldoon, "you can't have an American there all the time watching these things." "These things" included: rape, gang rape, rape using eels, snakes, or hard objects, and rape followed by murder; electrical shock ("the Bell Telephone Hour") rendered by attaching wires to the genitals or other sensitive parts of the body, like the tongue; "the water treatment"; "the airplane," in which a prisoner's arms were tied behind the back and the rope looped over a hook on the ceiling, suspending the prisoner in midair, after which he or she was beaten; beatings with rubber hoses and whips; and the use of police dogs to maul prisoners. All this and more occurred in P.I.C's.
One reason was inexperienced advisers. "A lot of guys in Vietnam were career trainees or junior officer trainees," Muldoon explained. "Some had been in the military; some had just graduated from college. They put them through a six-month course as either intelligence or paramilitary officers, then sent them over. They were just learning, and it was a hell of a place for their baptism of fire. They sent whole classes to Vietnam in 1963 and 1964, then later brought in older guys who had experience as region advisers ... They were supposed to hit every province once a week, but some would do it over the radio in one day.
"The adviser's job was to keep the region officer informed about real operations mounted in the capital city or against big shots in the field," Muldoon said, adding that advisers who wanted to do a good job ran the P.I.C's themselves, while the others hired assistants -- former cops or Green Berets -- who were paid by the CIA but worked for themselves, doing a dirty job in exchange for a line on the inside track to the black market, where V.C in need of cash and spies seeking names dealt in arms, drugs, prostitution, military scrip, and whatever other commodities were available.
P.I.C's are also faulted for producing only information on low-level V.C.I. Whenever a V.C.I member with strategic information (for example, a cadre in Hue who knew what was happening in the Delta) was captured, he was immediately grabbed by the region interrogation center, or the N.I.C in Saigon, where experts could produce quality reports for Washington. The lack of feedback to the PIC for its own province operations resulted in a revolving door syndrome, wherein the P.I.C was reduced to picking up the same low-level V.C.I people month after month.
The value of a P.I.C, according to Muldoon, "depended on the number of people that were put in it, on the caliber of people who manned it -- especially the chief -- and how good they were at writing up this information. Some guys thought they were the biggest waste of time and money ever spent because they didn't produce anything. And a lot of them didn't produce anything because the guys in the provinces didn't push them. Other people say, 'It's not that we didn't try; it's just that it was a dumb idea in the first place, because we couldn't get the military -- who were the ones capturing prisoners -- to turn them over. The military weren't going to turn them over to us until they were finished with them, and by then they were washed out.'
"This," Muldoon conceded, "was part of the overall plan: Let the military get the tactical military intelligence first. Obviously that's the most important thing going on in a war. But then we felt that after the military got what they could use tomorrow or next week, maybe the CIA should talk to this guy. That was the whole idea of having the Province Intelligence Coordination Committees and why the P.I.C's became part of them, so we could work this stuff back and forth. And in provinces where our guys went out of their way to work with the M.A.C.V sector adviser, they were able to get something done."
The military's side of the story is given by Major General Joseph McChristian, who
arrived in Saigon in July 1965 as M.A.C.V's intelligence chief. McChristian recognized
the threat posed by the V.C.I and, in order to destroy it, proposed "a large countrywide
counterintelligence effort involved in counter sabotage, counter subversion and
counter espionage activities." [8] In structuring this attack against the V.C.I, McChristian assigned military intelligence detachments to each U.S. Army brigade,
division, and field force, as well as to each South Vietnamese division and corps. He
created combined centers for intelligence, document exploitation, interrogation, and
materiel exploitation and directed them to support and coordinate allied units in the
field. And he ordered the construction of military interrogation centers in each sector,
division, and corps.
McChristian readily conceded the primacy of the CIA in anti-V.C.I operations. He acknowledged that the military did not have sophisticated agent nets and that military advisers at sector level focused on acquiring tactical intelligence needed to mount offensive operations. But he was very upset when the CIA, "without coordination with M.A.C.V, took over control of the files on the infrastructure located" in the P.I.C's. He got an even bigger shock when he himself "was refused permission to see the infrastructure file by a member of the [CIA]." Indeed, because the CIA prevented the military from entering the P.I.C's, the military retaliated by refusing to send them prisoners. As a result, anti-V.C.I operations were poorly coordinated at province level. [9]
Meanwhile, M.A.C.V assigned intelligence teams to the provinces, which formed agent nets mainly through Regional and Popular Forces under military control. These advisory teams sent reports to the political order of battle section in the Combined Intelligence Center, which produced complete and timely intelligence on the boundaries, location, structure, strengths, personalities and activities of the Communist political organization, or infrastructure. [10]
Information filtering into the Combined Intelligence Center was placed in an automatic data base, which enabled analysts to compare known V.C.I offenders with known aliases. Agent reports and special intelligence collection programs like Project Corral provided the military with information on low-level V.C.I, while information on high-level V.C.I came from the Combined Military Interrogation Center, which, according to McChristian, was the "focal point of tactical and strategic exploitation of selected human sources." [11]
The South Vietnamese military branch responsible for attacking the V.C.I was the Military Security Service under the direction of General Loan. Liaison with the M.S.S was handled by M.A.C.V's Counter-Intelligence Division within the 525th Military Intelligence Group. The primary mission of counterintelligence was the defection in place of V.C.I agents who had penetrated A.R.V.N channels, for use as double agents. By mid-1966 U.S. military intelligence employed about a thousand agents in South Vietnam, all of whom were paid through the 525th's Intelligence Contingency Fund.
The 525th had a headquarters unit near Long Binh, one battalion for each corps, and one working with S.O.G in third countries. Internally the 525th was divided into bilateral teams working with the Military Security Service and A.R.V.N military intelligence, and unilateral teams working without the knowledge or approval of the G.V.N. Operational teams consisted of five enlisted men, each one an agent handler reporting to an officer who served as team chief. When assigned to the field, agent handlers in unilateral teams lived on their own, "on the economy." To avoid "flaps," they were given identification as Foreign Service officers or employees of private American companies, although they kept their military I.D's for access to classified information, areas, and resources. Upon arriving in country, each agent handler (aka case officer) was assigned a principal agent, who usually had a functioning agent network already in place. Some of these nets had been set up by the French, the British, or the Chinese. Each principal agent had several sub agents working in cells. Like most spies, sub agents were usually in it for the money; in many cases the war had destroyed their businesses and left them no alternative.
Case officers worked with principal agents through interpreters and couriers. In theory, a case officer never met sub agents. Instead, each cell had a cell leader who secretly met with the principal agent to exchange information and receive instructions, which were passed along to the other sub agents. Some sub agents were political specialists; others attended to tactical military concerns. Posing as woodcutters or rice farmers or secretaries or auto mechanics, sub agents infiltrated Vietcong villages or businesses and reported on N.L.F associations, V.C.I cadres, and the G.V.N's criminal undertakings as well as on the size and whereabouts of V.C and N.V.A combat units.
Case officers handling political "accounts" were given requirements, originated at battalion headquarters, by their team leaders. The requirements were for specific information on individual V.C.I's. The cell leader would report on a particular V.C.I to the principal agent, who would pass the information back to the case officer using standard trade craft methods -- a cryptic mark on a wall or telephone pole that the case officer would periodically look for. The case officer would, upon seeing the signal, send a courier to retrieve the report from the principal agent's courier at a prearranged time and place. The case officer would then pass the information to his team leader as well as to other customers, including the CIA liaison officer at the embassy house, as CIA headquarters in a province was called.
The finished products of positive and counterintelligence operations were called army information reports. Reports and agents were rated on the basis of accuracy, but insofar as most agents were in it for money, accuracy was hard to judge. A spy might implicate a person who owed him money or a rival in love, business, or politics. Many sources were double agents, and all agents were periodically given lie detector tests. For protection they were also given code names. They were paid through the M.A.C.V Intelligence Contingency Fund, but not well enough to survive on their salaries alone, so many dabbled in the black market, too.
The final stage of the intelligence cycle was the termination of agents, for which there were three methods. First was termination by paying the agent off, swearing him to secrecy, and saying so long. Second was termination with prejudice, which meant ordering an agent out of an area and placing his or her name on a blacklist so he or she could never work for the United States again; third was termination with extreme prejudice, applied when the mere existence of an agent threatened the security of an operation or other agents. Case officers were taught, in off-the-record sessions, how to terminate their agents with extreme prejudice. CIA officers received similar instruction
Four Opinions on Pacification The corporate warrior: "Pacification was the ultimate goal of both the Americans and the South Vietnamese government. A complex task involving military, psychological, political, and economic factors, its aim was to achieve an economically and politically viable society in which the people could live without constant fear of death or other physical harm" -- WILLIAM WESTMORELAND, A Soldier Reports
The poet: "Defenseless villages are bombarded from the air, the inhabitants driven into the countryside, the cattle machine-gunned, the huts set afire with incendiary bullets: this is called pacification" -- GEORGE ORWELL, Politics and the English Language, 1946
The reporter: "What we're really doing in Vietnam is killing the cause of 'wars of liberation.' It's a testing ground -- like Germany in Spain. It's an example to Central America and other guerrilla prone areas" -- BERNARD FALL, "This Isn't Munich, It's Spain," Ramparts (December 1965)
The warlord: "A popular political base for the Government of South Vietnam does not now exist. The existing government is oriented toward the exploitation of the rural and lower class urban populations. It is in fact a continuation of the French colonial system of government with upper class Vietnamese replacing the French. The dissatisfaction of the agrarian population ... is expressed largely through alliance with the N.L.F" -- John Paul Vann, 1965
In retaliation for selective terror attacks against Americans in South Vietnam, President Lyndon Johnson ordered in 1965 the bombing of cities in North Vietnam. The raids continued into 1968, the idea being to deal the Communists more punishment than they could absorb. Although comparisons were non forthcoming in the American press, North Vietnam got a taste of what England was like during the Nazi terror bombings of World War II, and like the Brits, the North Vietnamese evacuated their children to the countryside but refused to say uncle.
Enraged by infiltrating North Vietnamese troops, LBJ also ordered the bombing of Laos and Cambodia. To help the Air Force locate enemy troops and targets in those "neutral" countries, S.O.G launched a cross-border operation called Prairie Fire. Working on the problem in Laos was the CIA, through its top secret Project 404. Headquartered in Vientiane, Project 404 sent agents into the countryside to locate targets for B-52's stationed in Guam and on aircraft carriers in the South China Sea. The massive bombing campaign turned much of Laos and Cambodia into a wasteland.
The same was true in South Vietnam, where the strategy was to demoralize the Communists by blowing their villages to smithereens. Because of the devastation the bombing wrought, half a million Vietnamese refugees had fled their villages and were living in temporary shelters by the end of 1965, while another half million were wandering around in shock, homeless. At the same time nearly a quarter million American soldiers were mired in the muck of Vietnam, a small percentage of them engaged in pacification as variously defined above. The Pentagon thought it needed half a million more men to get the job done.
Reacting to the presence of another generation of foreign occupation troops, COSVN
commander General Nguyen Chi Thanh called for a renewed insurgency. The head of
the N.L.F, Nguyen Huu Tho, agreed. The battle was joined. And with the rejuvenated
revolution came an increased demand by the CIA for V.C.I prisoners. However, the
V.C.I fish were submerged in the sea of refugees that was rolling like a tidal wave
over South Vietnam. Having been swamped by the human deluge, only three
thousand of Saigon's eighteen thousand National Policemen were available to chase the V.C.I; the rest were busy directing traffic and manning checkpoints into
Saigon.
Likewise, in the countryside, the hapless police were capturing few V.C.I for interrogation -- far fewer, in fact, than U.S. combat units caught while conducting cordon and search operations, in which entire villages were herded together and every man, woman, and child subjected to search and seizure, and worse. As John Muldoon noted, the military rarely made its prisoners available to the police until they were "washed out."
Making matters worse was the fact that province chiefs eager to foster "local initiative" often made deals with the CIA officers who funded them. At the direction of their paramilitary advisers, province chiefs often pursued the V.C.I with counter terror teams, independently of the police, put the V.C.I in their own province jails and sent them to P.I.C's only if the CIA's Special Branch adviser learned what was going on, and complained loud enough and long enough. Meanwhile, amid the din of saber-rattling coming from the Pentagon, the plaintive cries of police and pacification managers began to echo in the corridors of power in Washington. Something had to be done to put some punch in the National Police.
What was decided, in the summer of 1965, was to provide the National Police with a
paramilitary field force that had the mission and skills of counter terror teams and
could work jointly with the military in cordon and search operations. The man given
the job was Colonel William "Pappy" Grieves, senior adviser to the National Police
Field Forces from August 1965 till 1973.
"I was trying to create an A-One police force starting from scratch," Grieves told me when we met at his home in 1986. [1] A blend of rock-solid integrity and irreverence, Grieves was the son of a U.S. Army officer, born in the Philippines and reared in a series of army posts around the world. He attended West Point and in World War II saw action in Europe with the XV Corps Artillery, then came the War College, jump school at Fort Benning (he made his last jump at age sixty) and an interest in unconventional warfare. As M.A.A.G chief of staff in Greece in the mid 1950's, Grieves worked with the CIA, the Special Forces, and the Greek airborne raiding force in paramilitary operations behind enemy lines.
Grieves ended his career as deputy commander of the Special Warfare Center at Fort Bragg under General William Yarborough. "I've often thought that if he had gone to Vietnam instead of Westmoreland, the war would have taken a different course. More would have been put on the Vietnamese. Yarborough," said Grieves, "realized that you can't fight a war on the four-year political cycle of the United States -- which is what we were trying to do. I'm convinced the war could have been won, but it would have taken a long time with a lot less U.S. troops." The notion that "you can't go in and win it for somebody, 'cause you'll have nothing in the end'" was the philosophy Pappy Grieves brought to the National Police Field Forces.
Days before his retirement from the U.S. Army, Grieves was asked to join the Agency for International Development's Public Safety program in South Vietnam. "Byron Engel, the chief of the Public Safety Program in Washington, D.C., had a representative at the Special Warfare Center who approached me about taking the job," Grieves recalled. "He said they were looking for a guy to head up the paramilitary force within the National Police. They specifically selected me for the job with the Field Police, which were just being organized at the time, because they needed someone with an unconventional warfare background. So I went to Washington, D.C., was interviewed by Byron Engel, among other people, took a quick course at the U.S.A.I.D Police Academy, and as a result, when I retired in July 1965, by the end of the next month I was in Vietnam.
"Let me give you a little background on what the Field Police concept was," Grieves continued. "In a country like Vietnam you had a situation where a policeman couldn't walk a beat -- like Blood Alley in Paris. In order to walk a beat and bring police services to the people, in most parts of Vietnam you had to use military tactics and techniques and formations just for the policeman to survive. So you walk a beat by squads and platoons. The military would call it a patrol, and, as a matter of fact, so did the police.
"That was the basic concept. Whether you had an outfit called Phoenix or not, there was a police need for a field force organization in a counterinsurgency role. The British found this necessary in Malaya, and they created Police Field Forces there. In fact, the original idea of the Vietnamese Police Field Forces came out of Malaya. Robert Thompson recommended it. And when I got to Vietnam, they had a contract Australian ... who had taken over for himself the Police Field Forces: Ted Serong. If you looked at the paper, he was hired by A.I.D as a consultant; but he was paid by the CIA, which was reimbursed by A.I.D. This arrangement allowed the CIA to have input into how the Field Police were managed.
"When I got to Vietnam," Grieves continued, "I found myself responsible on the American side of this thing, and yet Serong was in there, not as an adviser, but directly operating. He had some money coming in from Australia, which he would dispense to get [Vietnamese] to come over to his side, and he had five or six Australian paramilitary advisers, paid by the Company [CIA], same as him."
The problem was that the CIA wanted to establish the Field Police under its control, not as a police force but as a unit against the infrastructure. The CIA tried to do that by having Serong suborn the Vietnamese officers who managed the program, so that he could run it like a private army, the way the agency ran the counter terror teams. "Under Serong and the CIA," Grieves explained, "the Field Police program was not for the benefit of the Vietnamese; when they were gone, there wasn't going to be anything left. Well, they could run it like the counter terror teams, or they could be advisers."
As a matter of principle, Grieves felt obligated to run his program legitimately. "Now Serong and I were both dealing with the same Vietnamese," he recalled, "with him on the ground trying to make it anti-V.C.I. Then I discovered that some very peculiar things were going on. There was no accountability. The CIA was furnishing piasters and weapons to get the Field Police going, but these things were dropped by the Company from accountability when they left Saigon. Serong would take a jeep, ship it by Air America up to the training center in Da Lat, ship it back on the next airplane out, and he'd have a vehicle of his own off the books! A lot of piasters were being used to pay personal servants, to buy liquor, things of that nature. And he had sources of information. He was going with the director of A.I.D's administrative assistant, and she would take things Serong was interested in and let him see them before [U.S.A.I.D Director] Charlie Mann did. There were all sorts of things going on, and this just put me across the barrel.
"It took me a couple of months to figure it out" -- Grieves sighed -- "and it made it hard to put the Field Police back on the police track, which was my job. So the first thing we did was try to get rid of that crowd. But Bob Lowe, who was the head of Public Safety in South Vietnam and my boss through the chief of operations, wanted me to stay out of it. Serong had pulled the wool over his eyes, and he just wasn't interested. Then John Manopoli replaced Lowe, and John called me in and said he wanted to see me get into it; he had a directive to get rid of Serong, and I supplied the ammunition.
"It was not just his personality," Grieves said in retrospect, "but his handling of funds, equipment, and everything else was completely immoral. And eventually it all came out. After about a year the services of Brigadier Serong were dispensed with; his and his people's contracts ran out or were turned over to the Company, and my relationship with the CIA station soured as a result."
The final parting of ways came when Grieves was asked to work for the CIA without the knowledge of his A.I.D superiors. From his experience with the agency in Greece, Grieves knew that CIA staff officers were protected but that contract employees were expendable. He did not trust the CIA enough to put himself in the tenuous position of having to depend on it.
Grieves's refusal to bring the Field Police under CIA control had a significant effect. "In the eyes of Serong and that crew, the Field Police were to be an outlet of the Company," Grieves explained. "So when it became obvious they were a part of the National Police, the CIA developed the Provincial Reconnaissance Units (P.R.U) -- units operating separately, hired and commanded by Company people." Unfortunately, he added, "The Field Police could never develop across the board as long as P.R.U existed." Indeed, the P.R.U and the Field Police worked at cross purposes for years to come, reflecting parochial tensions between U.S. agencies and undermining the U.S. war effort in Vietnam.
The Field Police was formally established on January 27, 1965, at the same time as the Marine Police. Its mission, as written by Grieves, was "for the purpose of extending police services to the people of Vietnam in areas where more conventionally armed forces and trained National Police could not operate, and to provide a tool to assist in the extension of the National Police into the rural areas." Field Police units were to patrol rural areas, control civil disturbances, provide security for the National Police, act as a reserve, and conduct raids against the V.C.I based on information provided by the Special Branch.
Notably, Grieves placed the anti-VCI role last, a priority that was reversed two years later under Phoenix. In the meantime, he was intent on bringing order, discipline, and a public service purpose to the Field Police. "The headquarters was in Saigon, collocated with Public Safety," Grieves recalled. "As soon as we could, however, we constructed a separate headquarters and a warehouse on the outskirts of Saigon. We hired Nungs as security. There was a Nung platoon in Cholon at our central warehouse and forty to fifty Nungs at our training center in Da Lat. We got them through Chinese brokers in Cholon.
"Between 1965 and 1966," Grieves explained, "the Field Police were just getting organized. Under Serong the planned strength was eighteen thousand, but the actual force in July 1965 was two thousand." There were six companies in training at the original center in Nam Dong, which Serong moved to Tri Mot, about six miles outside Da Lat. "He was also dealing with piaster funds on the black market, using the profits to build a private villa for his vacations up there," Grieves revealed.
Grieves then arranged for M.A.C.V to provide logistical support to the Field Police through U.S. Army channels on a reimbursable basis. In order to make sure that supplies were not sold on the black market, equipment was issued directly into the American warehouse and parceled out by Grieves and his staff. "We did not issue it to the Vietnamese," he said, "until they had the troops for it. We didn't give them twenty seven companies' worth of equipment when they only had ten companies of people.
"We were the administrators;" Grieves explained, "which forced us to account for funds and do a lot of things that were not in an advisory capacity. But it was the only way to get the job done. From the very beginning the idea was to turn it back to the Vietnamese when they could handle it, but at first we had to expand our advisory role to create this force.
"My first counterpart," Grieves recalled, "for about eight months was a Special Forces lieutenant colonel named Tran Van Thua. He was assigned to the National Police and was working with Ted Serong. Thua meant well but was not a strong officer. He was attempting to play us against each other by not allowing himself to become too aware of it. Then Nguyen Ngoc Loan became director general of the National Police, and he brought in Colonel Sanh, an army airborne officer." At that point Thua was reassigned as chief of the National Police training center at Vung Tau. "Colonel Sanh was an improvement over Thua, but he was also a little hard to get along with," according to Grieves. "He had no real interest in the police side of it. He came from one of the Combat Police [i] battalions and was interested primarily in the riot control aspect of the Field Police."
i. The two Combat Police battalions (later called Order Police) were CIA-advised paramilitary police units used to break up demonstrations and provide security for government functions.
Reflecting General Loan's priorities, Colonel Sanh in early 1966 revised Field Police operating procedures to emphasize civil disturbance control, and he directed that Field Police units in emergencies would be available as a reserve for any police chief. Concurrently with this revised mission, the two existing Combat Police battalions -- still advised by Ted Serong under CIA auspices -- were incorporated into the Field Police. Available as a nationwide reaction force, the Combat Police was used by General Loan to suppress Buddhist demonstrations in the spring of 1966 in DaNang, Hue, and Saigon. Likewise, Field Police units in provinces adjacent to Saigon were often called into the capital to reinforce ongoing riot control operations. In such cases platoons would generally be sent in from Long An, Gia Dinh, and Binh Duong provinces.
"The trained provisional Field Police companies were finally deployed to their provinces in July 1966," Grieves said, "after being held in Saigon for riot control during the Buddhist struggle movement, which dominated the first half of that year. By year's end there were forty-five Field Police companies, four platoons each, for a total of five thousand five hundred forty five men." By the end of 1967 the Field Police had twelve thousand men in fifty-nine companies.
"My counterpart for the longest time," said Grieves, "was Major Nguyen Van Dai, who started out as a ranger captain in the Delta. Dai was the best of the bunch -- an old soldier and a real hard rock. He was the one who really built the Field Police."
From July 1968 until February 1971 Dai served as assistant director of the National Police Support Division and as commandant of the National Police Field Forces. "Over two years and a half," said Dai, ''as commandant N.P.F.F, my relationship with Colonel Grieves and his staff was very friendly. We had open discussions to find an appropriate and reasonable solution to any difficult problems. After twenty-two years in the army, most of that in combat units, I have only one concept: Quality is better than quantity. All soldiers in my command must be disciplined, and the leader must demonstrate a good example for others." [2]
"Dai," Grieves said with respect, "brought to the National Police Field Forces the attitude of 'service to the people.'
"My personnel," explained Grieves, "the Field Police advisers, were hired in this country and sent over to Vietnam. In addition, because they were coming over so slowly, we got a couple of local hires who were military and took their discharges in Vietnam. The Field Police advisers were all civilians. [Of 230 Public Safety advisers in Vietnam, 150 were on loan from the military.] We also had a bunch of peculiar deals. I needed advisers, and I needed them bad. The Fifth Special Forces at Nha Trang meanwhile had a requirement for men in civilian clothes in three particular provinces where I needed advisers, too. Theirs was an intelligence requirement, mine was a working function, but a guy could do both jobs. When this came out, I went and laid it on the table with my boss. I wasn't pulling anything underhanded, and I got their permission to do this. These guys came along and were documented as local hires by A.I.D, but actually they were still in the military. They took over and did a damn fine job in the provinces.
"There were some officers, too," Grieves said, adding that "most of them were staff members. We also had an ex-military police major as an adviser to two Field Police companies working with the First Cavalry near Qui Nhon, rooting out V.C. He was there two days and said he wanted a ticket home. He said, 'I'd have stayed in the Army if I wanted this.'
"So Ed Schlacter took over in Binh Dinh," Grieves continued. "Based on Special Branch intelligence that Vietcong guerrillas were in the village, around first light the First Cavalry would go in by chopper and circle the village, followed by a Field Police squad, platoon, or company. While the Cav provided security, the Field Police would search people and look in the rice pot. The Americans never knew what was going on, but the Vietnamese in the Field Police would know how many people were feeding by looking in the rice pot. If they saw enough rice for ten people but only saw six people in the hooch, they knew the rest were hiding underground."
About the Special Branch, Grieves commented, "They had a security and intelligence gathering function. Special Branch furnished the intelligence on which the Field Police would react. They could pick up two or three guys themselves and actually didn't need to call in the Field Police unless it was a big deal.
"What we did was put a company of Field Police in each province," Grieves explained. "Originally the plan was for a fixed company: four platoons and a headquarters. If you had a big province, put in two companies. Then it became obvious, if you're going to put platoons in the districts, that it would be better to have one company headquarters and a variable number of platoons. So the basic unit became the forty-man three-squad platoon. They had M-sixteens and were semi mobile.
"In theory, each company had an adviser, but that was never the case. There were never enough. In fact, some of the places where we didn't have a Field Police adviser, the Public Safety adviser had to take it over. When I first went out there, some Public Safety people had to cover three provinces and were supposed to take the Field Police under their wing. In most cases, however, they didn't have any interest, and it didn't work too well. But when the thing got going, the Public Safety adviser had the Field Police adviser under him, and by the very end the companies were so well trained that they could run themselves."
Doug McCollum was one of the first Public Safety advisers to manage Field Police units in Vietnam. Born in New Jersey and reared in California, McCollum served three years in the U.S. Army before joining the Walnut Creek Police Department in 1961. Five years later one of McCollum's colleagues, who was working for Public Safety in Vietnam, wrote and suggested that he do likewise. On April 16, 1966, Doug McCollum arrived in Saigon; two weeks later he was sent to Pleiku Province as the Public Safety police adviser.
"There was no one there to meet me when I arrived," McCollum recalled, "so I went over to the province senior adviser ... who didn't know I was coming and was surprised to see me. He didn't want me there either because of the previous Public Safety adviser, who was then living with his wife in Cambodia. Rogers didn't think Public Safety was any good." [3]
Not many people did. To give the devil his due, however, it was hard for a Public Safety adviser to distinguish between unlawful and customary behavior on the part of his Vietnamese counterpart. The province police chief bought his job from the province chief, and in turn the police chief expected a percentage of the profits his subordinates made selling licenses and paroles and whatever to the civilian population. Many police chiefs were also taking payoffs from black-marketeers, a fact they would naturally try to keep from their advisers -- unless the advisers wanted a piece of the action, too.
The problem was compounded for a Field Police commander and his adviser. As Grieves noted, "the Vietnamese Field Police platoon leader could not operate on his own. He received his orders and his tasks from commanders outside the Field Police, and the National Police commanders he worked for were in turn subjected to the orders of province and district chiefs who had operational control of the National Police."
Another limitation on the Field Police was the fact that Vietnamese policemen were prohibited from arresting American soldiers. Consequently, Doug McCollum worked closely with the Military Police in Pleiku to reduce tensions between American soldiers and Vietnamese and Montagnard pedestrians who often found themselves under the wheels of U.S. Army vehicles. With the cooperation of his counterpart, McCollum and the M.P's set up stop signs at intersections and put radar in place in an effort to slow traffic. To reduce tensions further, McCollum and the M.P's restricted soldiers to bars in the military compound.
A dedicated professional who is now an intelligence analyst for the Labor Department, McCollum believed he "was doing something for our country by helping police help people." One of his accomplishments as a Public Safety adviser was to renovate the province jail, which before his arrival had male and female prisoners incarcerated together. He inspected the P.I.C once a week, did manpower studies which revealed "ghost" employees on the police payroll, and managed the national identification program, which presented a unique problem in the highlands because "it was hard to bend the fingers of a Montagnard." McCollum also led the Field Police in joint patrols with the M.P's around Pleiku City's perimeter.
Soon McCollum was running the Public Safety program in three provinces -- Pleiku, Kontum, and Phu Bon. As adviser to the police chief in each province McCollum was responsible for collecting intelligence "from the police side" on enemy troop movements, caches, and cadres and for sending intelligence reports to his regional headquarters in Nha Trang. Then, in February 1967, McCollum was reassigned to Ban Me Thuot, the capital city of Darlac Province. There he had the police set up "a maze of barbed wire, allowing only one way into the city. I put people on rooftops and had the Field Police on roving patrols." McCollum also began monitoring the Chieu Hoi program. "They'd come in, we'd hold them, feed them, clothe them, get them a mat. Then we'd release them, and they'd wander around the city for a while, then disappear. It was the biggest hole in the net."
McCollum's feelings reflect the growing tension between people involved in police programs and those involved in Revolutionary Development. At times the two approaches to pacification seemed to cancel each other out. But they also overlapped. Said Grieves about this paradoxical situation: "We used to send Field Police squads and platoons down to Vung Tau for RD training, which was political indoctrination, and for PRU training, which was raids and ambushes. Now the RD Cadre were patterned on the Communists' political cadre, and they paralleled the civilian government. But most were city boys who went out to the villages and just talked to the girls. On the other hand, the Vietcong had been training since they were twelve. So the CIA was trying to do in twelve weeks what the Communists did in six years."
Phoenix eventually arose as the ultimate synthesis of these conflicting police and paramilitary programs. And with the formation of the Field Police, its component parts were set in place. The CIA was managing Census Grievance, RD Cadre, counter terror teams, and the P.I.C's. Military intelligence was working with the M.S.S, A.R.V.N intelligence, and the Regional and Popular Forces. A.I.D was managing Chieu Hoi and Public Safety, including the Field Police. All that remained was for someone to bring them together under the Special Branch.
next
Special Branch
notes Chapter 5 P.I.C.s
1, Galula, p. 117.
2. Slater, p. 21.
3. Galula, p. 124.
4. Scotton interview.
5. John Marks, The Search for the Manchurian Candidate (New York: New York Times Books, 1979), p. 178.
6. Marks, p. 179.
7. Johnson, A Study, p. 400.
8. Major General Joseph McChristian, The Role of Military Intelligence 1965-1967 (Washington D.C.: Department of the Army, 1974), p. 14.
9. McChristian, p. 71.
10. McChristian, p. 50.
11. McChristian, p. 26.
CHAPTER 6: Field Police
1. Interview with William Grieves.
2. Letter to the author from Nguyen Van Dai.
3. Interview with Douglas McCollum.
Each provincial capital would eventually have a PIC. However, regional interrogation centers were built first and were larger, holding two to three hundred prisoners each. In IV Corps's regional capital, Can Tho, where the French had built a jail capable of holding two thousand prisoners, existing facilities were renovated. In choosing where to build in the provinces, each CIA regional officer selected priority provinces. Then, according to Muldoon, it was up to the liaison officer in the province to talk to the province chief and his C.I.O counterpart to find a spot near the provincial capital. "'Cause that's where our guy lived. Some of the guys had a hell of a time getting P.I.C's started," Muldoon noted, "because some province chiefs wanted money under the table."
Once the interrogation center was built, the liaison officer became its adviser, and Muldoon helped him recruit its staff. There were deadlines for each phase, and part of Muldoon's job was to travel around and monitor progress. "In one place construction would be half done," he recalled, "and in another they'd be trying to find a piece of land. It was a very big undertaking. We even had nit-P.I.C's, which were smaller versions for smaller provinces." Most interrogation centers were built or under construction by the time Muldoon left Vietnam in August 1966, at which point he was transferred to Thailand to build the CIA's huge interrogation center in Udorn, "where the CIA ran the Laos war from the Air America base." Muldoon was replaced as PIC chief in Vietnam by Bob Hill, a vice cop from Washington, D.C. Hill replaced Muldoon in Thailand in 1968.
💣💣💣
One story high, fashioned from concrete blocks, poured cement, and wood in the shape of a hollow square, an interrogation center was four buildings with tin roofs linked around a courtyard. In the center of the yard was a combination lookout-water tower with an electric generator under it. "You couldn't get the guards to stay out there at night if they didn't have lights," Muldoon explained. "So we had spotlights on the corners, along the walls, and on the tower shooting out all around. We also bulldozed around it so there were no trees or bushes. Anybody coming at it could be seen crossing the open area." People entered and exited through green, steel-plated gates, "Which were wide open every time I visited," said Muldoon, who visited only during the day. "You didn't want to visit at night," when attacks occurred. P.I.C's were located on the outskirts of town, away from residential areas, so as not to endanger the people living nearby, as well as to discourage rubbernecking. "These were self-contained places," Muldoon emphasized. Telephone lines to the P.I.C's were tapped by the CIA.
On the left side were interrogation rooms and the cell block -- depending on the size, twenty to sixty solitary confinement cells the size of closets. Men and women were not segregated. "You could walk right down the corridor," according to Muldoon. "It was an empty hallway with cells on both sides. Each cell had a steel door and a panel at the bottom where you could slip the food in and a slot at the top where you could look in and see what the guy was doing." There were no toilets, just holes to squat over. "They didn't have them in their homes." Muldoon laughed. "Why should we put them in their cells?"
Prisoners slept on concrete slabs. "Depending on how cooperative they were, you'd give them a straw mat or a blanket. It could get very cold at night in the highlands." A system of rewards and punishments was part of the treatment. "There were little things you could give them and take away from them, not a lot, but every little bit they got they were grateful for."
Depending on the amount of V.C.I activity in the province and the personality of the P.I.C chief, some interrogation centers were always full while others were always empty. In either case, "We didn't want them sitting there talking to each other," Muldoon said, so "we would build up the cells gradually, until we had to put them next to each other. They were completely isolated. They didn't get time to go out and walk around the yard. They sat in their cells when they weren't being interrogated. After that they were sent to the local jail or were turned back over to the military, where they were put in POW camps or taken out and shot. That part I never got involved in," he said, adding parenthetically, "They were treated better in the PICs than in the local jails already there for common criminals. Public Safety was advising them, working with the National Police. Sometimes they had sixty to seventy people in a cell that shouldn't have had more than ten. But they didn't care. If you're a criminal, you suffer. If you don't like it, too bad. Don't be a criminal."
The interrogation process worked like this. "As we brought prisoners in, the first thing we did was ... run them through the shower. That's on the left as you come in. After that they were checked by the doctor or nurse. That was an absolute necessity because God knows what diseases they might be carrying with them. They might need medication. They wouldn't do you much good if they died the first day they were there and you never got a chance to interrogate them. That's why the medical office was right inside the main gate. In most P.I.Cs," Muldoon noted, "the medical staff was usually a local A.R.V.N medic who would come out and check the prisoners coming in that day."
After the prisoner was cleaned, examined, repaired, weighed, photographed, and fingerprinted, his biography was taken by a Special Branch officer in the debriefing room. This initial interrogation extracted "hot" information that could be immediately exploited -- the whereabouts of an ongoing party committee meeting, for example -- as well as the basic information needed to come up with requirements for the series of interrogations that followed. Then the prisoner was given a uniform and stuck in a cell.
The interrogation rooms were at the back of the PIC. Some had two-way mirrors and polygraph machines, although sophisticated equipment was usually reserved for regional interrogation centers, where expert interrogators could put them to better use. Most province liaison officers were not trained interrogators. "They didn't have to be," according to Muldoon. "They were there to collect intelligence, and they had a list of what they needed in their own province. All they had to do was to make sure that whoever was running the PIC followed their orders. All they had to say was 'This is the requirement I want.' Then they read the initial reports and went back and gave the Special Branch interrogators additional requirements, just like we did at the NIC."
The guards -- usually policemen, sometimes soldiers -- lived in the P.I.C. As they returned from guard duty, they stacked their weapons in the first room on the right. The next room was the P.I.C chief's office, with a safe for classified documents, handguns, and the chief's bottle of scotch. The P.I.C chief's job was to turn those in the V.C.I -- make them Special Branch agents -- and maintain informant networks in the hamlets and villages. Farther down the corridor were offices for interrogators, collation and report writers, translator-interpreters, clerical and kitchen staff. There were file rooms with locked cabinets and map rooms for tracking the whereabouts of V.C.I's in the province. And there was a Chieu Hoi room where defectors were encouraged to become counter terrorists, political action cadre, or Kit Carson scouts - - a play on the names Biet Kich and Kit Carson, the cavalry adviser who gave a reward for Navajo scalps. Kit Carson scouts worked exclusively for the Marines.
Once an interrogation center had been constructed and a staff assigned, Muldoon summoned the training team from the N.I.C. Each member of the team was a specialist. The Army captain trained the guards. Air Force Sergeant Frank Rygalski taught report writers how to write proper reports -- the tangible product of the PIC. There were standard reporting formats for tactical as opposed to strategic intelligence and for Chieu Hoi and agent reports. To compile a finished report, an interrogator's notes were reviewed by the chief interrogator, then collated, typed, copied and sent to the Special Branch, C.I.O, and C.I.A. Translations were never considered totally accurate unless read and confirmed in the original language by the same person, but that rarely happened. Likewise, interrogations conducted through interpreters. were never considered totally reliable, for significant information was generally lost or misrepresented.
Another Air Force sergeant, Dick Falke, taught interrogators how to take notes and ask questions during an interrogation. "You don't just sit down with ten questions, get ten answers, then walk away," Muldoon commented. "Some of these guys, if you gave them ten questions, would get ten answers for you, and that's it. A lot of them had to learn that you don't drop a line of questioning just because you got the answer. The answer, if it's the right one, should lead you to sixty more questions. For example," he said, "Question one was 'Were you ever trained in North Vietnam?' Question two was 'Were you ever trained by people other than Vietnamese?' Well, lots of times the answer to question two is so interesting and gives you so much information you keep going for an hour and never get to question three, 'When did you come to South Vietnam?'"
For Special Branch officers in region interrogation centers, a special interrogation training program was conducted at the N.I.C by experts from the CIA's Support Services Branch, most of whom had worked on Russian defectors and were brought out from Washington to handle important cases. Training of Special Branch administrative personnel was conducted at region headquarters by professional secretaries, who taught their students how to type, file, and use phones. This side of the program was run by a former professional football player with the Green Bay Packers named Gene, who chain-smoked and eventually died of emphysema. "In between puffs, he'd put this box to his mouth, squeeze it, and take a breath of oxygen," Muldoon recalled.
On the forbidden subject of torture, according to Muldoon, the Special Branch had "the old French methods," interrogation that included torture. "All this had to be stopped by the agency," he said. "They had to be retaught with more sophisticated techniques."
In Ralph Johnson's opinion, "the Vietnamese, both Communist and GVN, looked upon torture as a normal and valid method of obtaining intelligence." [7] But of course, the Vietnamese did not conceive the PICs; they were the stepchildren of Robert Thompson, whose aristocratic English ancestors perfected torture in dingy castle dungeons, on the rack and in the iron lady, with thumbscrews and branding irons.
As for the American role, according to Muldoon, "you can't have an American there all the time watching these things." "These things" included: rape, gang rape, rape using eels, snakes, or hard objects, and rape followed by murder; electrical shock ("the Bell Telephone Hour") rendered by attaching wires to the genitals or other sensitive parts of the body, like the tongue; "the water treatment"; "the airplane," in which a prisoner's arms were tied behind the back and the rope looped over a hook on the ceiling, suspending the prisoner in midair, after which he or she was beaten; beatings with rubber hoses and whips; and the use of police dogs to maul prisoners. All this and more occurred in P.I.C's.
One reason was inexperienced advisers. "A lot of guys in Vietnam were career trainees or junior officer trainees," Muldoon explained. "Some had been in the military; some had just graduated from college. They put them through a six-month course as either intelligence or paramilitary officers, then sent them over. They were just learning, and it was a hell of a place for their baptism of fire. They sent whole classes to Vietnam in 1963 and 1964, then later brought in older guys who had experience as region advisers ... They were supposed to hit every province once a week, but some would do it over the radio in one day.
"The adviser's job was to keep the region officer informed about real operations mounted in the capital city or against big shots in the field," Muldoon said, adding that advisers who wanted to do a good job ran the P.I.C's themselves, while the others hired assistants -- former cops or Green Berets -- who were paid by the CIA but worked for themselves, doing a dirty job in exchange for a line on the inside track to the black market, where V.C in need of cash and spies seeking names dealt in arms, drugs, prostitution, military scrip, and whatever other commodities were available.
P.I.C's are also faulted for producing only information on low-level V.C.I. Whenever a V.C.I member with strategic information (for example, a cadre in Hue who knew what was happening in the Delta) was captured, he was immediately grabbed by the region interrogation center, or the N.I.C in Saigon, where experts could produce quality reports for Washington. The lack of feedback to the PIC for its own province operations resulted in a revolving door syndrome, wherein the P.I.C was reduced to picking up the same low-level V.C.I people month after month.
The value of a P.I.C, according to Muldoon, "depended on the number of people that were put in it, on the caliber of people who manned it -- especially the chief -- and how good they were at writing up this information. Some guys thought they were the biggest waste of time and money ever spent because they didn't produce anything. And a lot of them didn't produce anything because the guys in the provinces didn't push them. Other people say, 'It's not that we didn't try; it's just that it was a dumb idea in the first place, because we couldn't get the military -- who were the ones capturing prisoners -- to turn them over. The military weren't going to turn them over to us until they were finished with them, and by then they were washed out.'
"This," Muldoon conceded, "was part of the overall plan: Let the military get the tactical military intelligence first. Obviously that's the most important thing going on in a war. But then we felt that after the military got what they could use tomorrow or next week, maybe the CIA should talk to this guy. That was the whole idea of having the Province Intelligence Coordination Committees and why the P.I.C's became part of them, so we could work this stuff back and forth. And in provinces where our guys went out of their way to work with the M.A.C.V sector adviser, they were able to get something done."
McChristian readily conceded the primacy of the CIA in anti-V.C.I operations. He acknowledged that the military did not have sophisticated agent nets and that military advisers at sector level focused on acquiring tactical intelligence needed to mount offensive operations. But he was very upset when the CIA, "without coordination with M.A.C.V, took over control of the files on the infrastructure located" in the P.I.C's. He got an even bigger shock when he himself "was refused permission to see the infrastructure file by a member of the [CIA]." Indeed, because the CIA prevented the military from entering the P.I.C's, the military retaliated by refusing to send them prisoners. As a result, anti-V.C.I operations were poorly coordinated at province level. [9]
Meanwhile, M.A.C.V assigned intelligence teams to the provinces, which formed agent nets mainly through Regional and Popular Forces under military control. These advisory teams sent reports to the political order of battle section in the Combined Intelligence Center, which produced complete and timely intelligence on the boundaries, location, structure, strengths, personalities and activities of the Communist political organization, or infrastructure. [10]
Information filtering into the Combined Intelligence Center was placed in an automatic data base, which enabled analysts to compare known V.C.I offenders with known aliases. Agent reports and special intelligence collection programs like Project Corral provided the military with information on low-level V.C.I, while information on high-level V.C.I came from the Combined Military Interrogation Center, which, according to McChristian, was the "focal point of tactical and strategic exploitation of selected human sources." [11]
The South Vietnamese military branch responsible for attacking the V.C.I was the Military Security Service under the direction of General Loan. Liaison with the M.S.S was handled by M.A.C.V's Counter-Intelligence Division within the 525th Military Intelligence Group. The primary mission of counterintelligence was the defection in place of V.C.I agents who had penetrated A.R.V.N channels, for use as double agents. By mid-1966 U.S. military intelligence employed about a thousand agents in South Vietnam, all of whom were paid through the 525th's Intelligence Contingency Fund.
The 525th had a headquarters unit near Long Binh, one battalion for each corps, and one working with S.O.G in third countries. Internally the 525th was divided into bilateral teams working with the Military Security Service and A.R.V.N military intelligence, and unilateral teams working without the knowledge or approval of the G.V.N. Operational teams consisted of five enlisted men, each one an agent handler reporting to an officer who served as team chief. When assigned to the field, agent handlers in unilateral teams lived on their own, "on the economy." To avoid "flaps," they were given identification as Foreign Service officers or employees of private American companies, although they kept their military I.D's for access to classified information, areas, and resources. Upon arriving in country, each agent handler (aka case officer) was assigned a principal agent, who usually had a functioning agent network already in place. Some of these nets had been set up by the French, the British, or the Chinese. Each principal agent had several sub agents working in cells. Like most spies, sub agents were usually in it for the money; in many cases the war had destroyed their businesses and left them no alternative.
Case officers worked with principal agents through interpreters and couriers. In theory, a case officer never met sub agents. Instead, each cell had a cell leader who secretly met with the principal agent to exchange information and receive instructions, which were passed along to the other sub agents. Some sub agents were political specialists; others attended to tactical military concerns. Posing as woodcutters or rice farmers or secretaries or auto mechanics, sub agents infiltrated Vietcong villages or businesses and reported on N.L.F associations, V.C.I cadres, and the G.V.N's criminal undertakings as well as on the size and whereabouts of V.C and N.V.A combat units.
Case officers handling political "accounts" were given requirements, originated at battalion headquarters, by their team leaders. The requirements were for specific information on individual V.C.I's. The cell leader would report on a particular V.C.I to the principal agent, who would pass the information back to the case officer using standard trade craft methods -- a cryptic mark on a wall or telephone pole that the case officer would periodically look for. The case officer would, upon seeing the signal, send a courier to retrieve the report from the principal agent's courier at a prearranged time and place. The case officer would then pass the information to his team leader as well as to other customers, including the CIA liaison officer at the embassy house, as CIA headquarters in a province was called.
The finished products of positive and counterintelligence operations were called army information reports. Reports and agents were rated on the basis of accuracy, but insofar as most agents were in it for money, accuracy was hard to judge. A spy might implicate a person who owed him money or a rival in love, business, or politics. Many sources were double agents, and all agents were periodically given lie detector tests. For protection they were also given code names. They were paid through the M.A.C.V Intelligence Contingency Fund, but not well enough to survive on their salaries alone, so many dabbled in the black market, too.
The final stage of the intelligence cycle was the termination of agents, for which there were three methods. First was termination by paying the agent off, swearing him to secrecy, and saying so long. Second was termination with prejudice, which meant ordering an agent out of an area and placing his or her name on a blacklist so he or she could never work for the United States again; third was termination with extreme prejudice, applied when the mere existence of an agent threatened the security of an operation or other agents. Case officers were taught, in off-the-record sessions, how to terminate their agents with extreme prejudice. CIA officers received similar instruction
CHAPTER 6:
Field Police
Four Opinions on Pacification The corporate warrior: "Pacification was the ultimate goal of both the Americans and the South Vietnamese government. A complex task involving military, psychological, political, and economic factors, its aim was to achieve an economically and politically viable society in which the people could live without constant fear of death or other physical harm" -- WILLIAM WESTMORELAND, A Soldier Reports
The poet: "Defenseless villages are bombarded from the air, the inhabitants driven into the countryside, the cattle machine-gunned, the huts set afire with incendiary bullets: this is called pacification" -- GEORGE ORWELL, Politics and the English Language, 1946
The reporter: "What we're really doing in Vietnam is killing the cause of 'wars of liberation.' It's a testing ground -- like Germany in Spain. It's an example to Central America and other guerrilla prone areas" -- BERNARD FALL, "This Isn't Munich, It's Spain," Ramparts (December 1965)
The warlord: "A popular political base for the Government of South Vietnam does not now exist. The existing government is oriented toward the exploitation of the rural and lower class urban populations. It is in fact a continuation of the French colonial system of government with upper class Vietnamese replacing the French. The dissatisfaction of the agrarian population ... is expressed largely through alliance with the N.L.F" -- John Paul Vann, 1965
In retaliation for selective terror attacks against Americans in South Vietnam, President Lyndon Johnson ordered in 1965 the bombing of cities in North Vietnam. The raids continued into 1968, the idea being to deal the Communists more punishment than they could absorb. Although comparisons were non forthcoming in the American press, North Vietnam got a taste of what England was like during the Nazi terror bombings of World War II, and like the Brits, the North Vietnamese evacuated their children to the countryside but refused to say uncle.
Enraged by infiltrating North Vietnamese troops, LBJ also ordered the bombing of Laos and Cambodia. To help the Air Force locate enemy troops and targets in those "neutral" countries, S.O.G launched a cross-border operation called Prairie Fire. Working on the problem in Laos was the CIA, through its top secret Project 404. Headquartered in Vientiane, Project 404 sent agents into the countryside to locate targets for B-52's stationed in Guam and on aircraft carriers in the South China Sea. The massive bombing campaign turned much of Laos and Cambodia into a wasteland.
The same was true in South Vietnam, where the strategy was to demoralize the Communists by blowing their villages to smithereens. Because of the devastation the bombing wrought, half a million Vietnamese refugees had fled their villages and were living in temporary shelters by the end of 1965, while another half million were wandering around in shock, homeless. At the same time nearly a quarter million American soldiers were mired in the muck of Vietnam, a small percentage of them engaged in pacification as variously defined above. The Pentagon thought it needed half a million more men to get the job done.
Likewise, in the countryside, the hapless police were capturing few V.C.I for interrogation -- far fewer, in fact, than U.S. combat units caught while conducting cordon and search operations, in which entire villages were herded together and every man, woman, and child subjected to search and seizure, and worse. As John Muldoon noted, the military rarely made its prisoners available to the police until they were "washed out."
Making matters worse was the fact that province chiefs eager to foster "local initiative" often made deals with the CIA officers who funded them. At the direction of their paramilitary advisers, province chiefs often pursued the V.C.I with counter terror teams, independently of the police, put the V.C.I in their own province jails and sent them to P.I.C's only if the CIA's Special Branch adviser learned what was going on, and complained loud enough and long enough. Meanwhile, amid the din of saber-rattling coming from the Pentagon, the plaintive cries of police and pacification managers began to echo in the corridors of power in Washington. Something had to be done to put some punch in the National Police.
"I was trying to create an A-One police force starting from scratch," Grieves told me when we met at his home in 1986. [1] A blend of rock-solid integrity and irreverence, Grieves was the son of a U.S. Army officer, born in the Philippines and reared in a series of army posts around the world. He attended West Point and in World War II saw action in Europe with the XV Corps Artillery, then came the War College, jump school at Fort Benning (he made his last jump at age sixty) and an interest in unconventional warfare. As M.A.A.G chief of staff in Greece in the mid 1950's, Grieves worked with the CIA, the Special Forces, and the Greek airborne raiding force in paramilitary operations behind enemy lines.
Grieves ended his career as deputy commander of the Special Warfare Center at Fort Bragg under General William Yarborough. "I've often thought that if he had gone to Vietnam instead of Westmoreland, the war would have taken a different course. More would have been put on the Vietnamese. Yarborough," said Grieves, "realized that you can't fight a war on the four-year political cycle of the United States -- which is what we were trying to do. I'm convinced the war could have been won, but it would have taken a long time with a lot less U.S. troops." The notion that "you can't go in and win it for somebody, 'cause you'll have nothing in the end'" was the philosophy Pappy Grieves brought to the National Police Field Forces.
Days before his retirement from the U.S. Army, Grieves was asked to join the Agency for International Development's Public Safety program in South Vietnam. "Byron Engel, the chief of the Public Safety Program in Washington, D.C., had a representative at the Special Warfare Center who approached me about taking the job," Grieves recalled. "He said they were looking for a guy to head up the paramilitary force within the National Police. They specifically selected me for the job with the Field Police, which were just being organized at the time, because they needed someone with an unconventional warfare background. So I went to Washington, D.C., was interviewed by Byron Engel, among other people, took a quick course at the U.S.A.I.D Police Academy, and as a result, when I retired in July 1965, by the end of the next month I was in Vietnam.
"Let me give you a little background on what the Field Police concept was," Grieves continued. "In a country like Vietnam you had a situation where a policeman couldn't walk a beat -- like Blood Alley in Paris. In order to walk a beat and bring police services to the people, in most parts of Vietnam you had to use military tactics and techniques and formations just for the policeman to survive. So you walk a beat by squads and platoons. The military would call it a patrol, and, as a matter of fact, so did the police.
"That was the basic concept. Whether you had an outfit called Phoenix or not, there was a police need for a field force organization in a counterinsurgency role. The British found this necessary in Malaya, and they created Police Field Forces there. In fact, the original idea of the Vietnamese Police Field Forces came out of Malaya. Robert Thompson recommended it. And when I got to Vietnam, they had a contract Australian ... who had taken over for himself the Police Field Forces: Ted Serong. If you looked at the paper, he was hired by A.I.D as a consultant; but he was paid by the CIA, which was reimbursed by A.I.D. This arrangement allowed the CIA to have input into how the Field Police were managed.
"When I got to Vietnam," Grieves continued, "I found myself responsible on the American side of this thing, and yet Serong was in there, not as an adviser, but directly operating. He had some money coming in from Australia, which he would dispense to get [Vietnamese] to come over to his side, and he had five or six Australian paramilitary advisers, paid by the Company [CIA], same as him."
The problem was that the CIA wanted to establish the Field Police under its control, not as a police force but as a unit against the infrastructure. The CIA tried to do that by having Serong suborn the Vietnamese officers who managed the program, so that he could run it like a private army, the way the agency ran the counter terror teams. "Under Serong and the CIA," Grieves explained, "the Field Police program was not for the benefit of the Vietnamese; when they were gone, there wasn't going to be anything left. Well, they could run it like the counter terror teams, or they could be advisers."
As a matter of principle, Grieves felt obligated to run his program legitimately. "Now Serong and I were both dealing with the same Vietnamese," he recalled, "with him on the ground trying to make it anti-V.C.I. Then I discovered that some very peculiar things were going on. There was no accountability. The CIA was furnishing piasters and weapons to get the Field Police going, but these things were dropped by the Company from accountability when they left Saigon. Serong would take a jeep, ship it by Air America up to the training center in Da Lat, ship it back on the next airplane out, and he'd have a vehicle of his own off the books! A lot of piasters were being used to pay personal servants, to buy liquor, things of that nature. And he had sources of information. He was going with the director of A.I.D's administrative assistant, and she would take things Serong was interested in and let him see them before [U.S.A.I.D Director] Charlie Mann did. There were all sorts of things going on, and this just put me across the barrel.
"It took me a couple of months to figure it out" -- Grieves sighed -- "and it made it hard to put the Field Police back on the police track, which was my job. So the first thing we did was try to get rid of that crowd. But Bob Lowe, who was the head of Public Safety in South Vietnam and my boss through the chief of operations, wanted me to stay out of it. Serong had pulled the wool over his eyes, and he just wasn't interested. Then John Manopoli replaced Lowe, and John called me in and said he wanted to see me get into it; he had a directive to get rid of Serong, and I supplied the ammunition.
"It was not just his personality," Grieves said in retrospect, "but his handling of funds, equipment, and everything else was completely immoral. And eventually it all came out. After about a year the services of Brigadier Serong were dispensed with; his and his people's contracts ran out or were turned over to the Company, and my relationship with the CIA station soured as a result."
The final parting of ways came when Grieves was asked to work for the CIA without the knowledge of his A.I.D superiors. From his experience with the agency in Greece, Grieves knew that CIA staff officers were protected but that contract employees were expendable. He did not trust the CIA enough to put himself in the tenuous position of having to depend on it.
Grieves's refusal to bring the Field Police under CIA control had a significant effect. "In the eyes of Serong and that crew, the Field Police were to be an outlet of the Company," Grieves explained. "So when it became obvious they were a part of the National Police, the CIA developed the Provincial Reconnaissance Units (P.R.U) -- units operating separately, hired and commanded by Company people." Unfortunately, he added, "The Field Police could never develop across the board as long as P.R.U existed." Indeed, the P.R.U and the Field Police worked at cross purposes for years to come, reflecting parochial tensions between U.S. agencies and undermining the U.S. war effort in Vietnam.
The Field Police was formally established on January 27, 1965, at the same time as the Marine Police. Its mission, as written by Grieves, was "for the purpose of extending police services to the people of Vietnam in areas where more conventionally armed forces and trained National Police could not operate, and to provide a tool to assist in the extension of the National Police into the rural areas." Field Police units were to patrol rural areas, control civil disturbances, provide security for the National Police, act as a reserve, and conduct raids against the V.C.I based on information provided by the Special Branch.
Notably, Grieves placed the anti-VCI role last, a priority that was reversed two years later under Phoenix. In the meantime, he was intent on bringing order, discipline, and a public service purpose to the Field Police. "The headquarters was in Saigon, collocated with Public Safety," Grieves recalled. "As soon as we could, however, we constructed a separate headquarters and a warehouse on the outskirts of Saigon. We hired Nungs as security. There was a Nung platoon in Cholon at our central warehouse and forty to fifty Nungs at our training center in Da Lat. We got them through Chinese brokers in Cholon.
"Between 1965 and 1966," Grieves explained, "the Field Police were just getting organized. Under Serong the planned strength was eighteen thousand, but the actual force in July 1965 was two thousand." There were six companies in training at the original center in Nam Dong, which Serong moved to Tri Mot, about six miles outside Da Lat. "He was also dealing with piaster funds on the black market, using the profits to build a private villa for his vacations up there," Grieves revealed.
Photo: SGM Petry (fourth from left, top)
The Tri Mot facility accommodated twelve companies. The American in charge was
retired Special Forces Sergeant Major Chuck Petry. Training of field policemen began
with a two-month course at the National Police training center in Vung Tau, followed
by a three-month course at Tri Mot. Field policemen were assigned to provinces
initially as a unit, later as individuals. Offshore training in jungle operations and riot
control was given to selected recruits at the Malayan Police Field Force training
center (created by Serong) through the Colombo Plan, while other field policemen were trained at the International Police Academy in Washington. The first two Field
Police companies, from Long An and Gia Dinh provinces, completed their training in
December 1965. Grieves then arranged for M.A.C.V to provide logistical support to the Field Police through U.S. Army channels on a reimbursable basis. In order to make sure that supplies were not sold on the black market, equipment was issued directly into the American warehouse and parceled out by Grieves and his staff. "We did not issue it to the Vietnamese," he said, "until they had the troops for it. We didn't give them twenty seven companies' worth of equipment when they only had ten companies of people.
"We were the administrators;" Grieves explained, "which forced us to account for funds and do a lot of things that were not in an advisory capacity. But it was the only way to get the job done. From the very beginning the idea was to turn it back to the Vietnamese when they could handle it, but at first we had to expand our advisory role to create this force.
"My first counterpart," Grieves recalled, "for about eight months was a Special Forces lieutenant colonel named Tran Van Thua. He was assigned to the National Police and was working with Ted Serong. Thua meant well but was not a strong officer. He was attempting to play us against each other by not allowing himself to become too aware of it. Then Nguyen Ngoc Loan became director general of the National Police, and he brought in Colonel Sanh, an army airborne officer." At that point Thua was reassigned as chief of the National Police training center at Vung Tau. "Colonel Sanh was an improvement over Thua, but he was also a little hard to get along with," according to Grieves. "He had no real interest in the police side of it. He came from one of the Combat Police [i] battalions and was interested primarily in the riot control aspect of the Field Police."
i. The two Combat Police battalions (later called Order Police) were CIA-advised paramilitary police units used to break up demonstrations and provide security for government functions.
Reflecting General Loan's priorities, Colonel Sanh in early 1966 revised Field Police operating procedures to emphasize civil disturbance control, and he directed that Field Police units in emergencies would be available as a reserve for any police chief. Concurrently with this revised mission, the two existing Combat Police battalions -- still advised by Ted Serong under CIA auspices -- were incorporated into the Field Police. Available as a nationwide reaction force, the Combat Police was used by General Loan to suppress Buddhist demonstrations in the spring of 1966 in DaNang, Hue, and Saigon. Likewise, Field Police units in provinces adjacent to Saigon were often called into the capital to reinforce ongoing riot control operations. In such cases platoons would generally be sent in from Long An, Gia Dinh, and Binh Duong provinces.
"The trained provisional Field Police companies were finally deployed to their provinces in July 1966," Grieves said, "after being held in Saigon for riot control during the Buddhist struggle movement, which dominated the first half of that year. By year's end there were forty-five Field Police companies, four platoons each, for a total of five thousand five hundred forty five men." By the end of 1967 the Field Police had twelve thousand men in fifty-nine companies.
"My counterpart for the longest time," said Grieves, "was Major Nguyen Van Dai, who started out as a ranger captain in the Delta. Dai was the best of the bunch -- an old soldier and a real hard rock. He was the one who really built the Field Police."
From July 1968 until February 1971 Dai served as assistant director of the National Police Support Division and as commandant of the National Police Field Forces. "Over two years and a half," said Dai, ''as commandant N.P.F.F, my relationship with Colonel Grieves and his staff was very friendly. We had open discussions to find an appropriate and reasonable solution to any difficult problems. After twenty-two years in the army, most of that in combat units, I have only one concept: Quality is better than quantity. All soldiers in my command must be disciplined, and the leader must demonstrate a good example for others." [2]
"Dai," Grieves said with respect, "brought to the National Police Field Forces the attitude of 'service to the people.'
"My personnel," explained Grieves, "the Field Police advisers, were hired in this country and sent over to Vietnam. In addition, because they were coming over so slowly, we got a couple of local hires who were military and took their discharges in Vietnam. The Field Police advisers were all civilians. [Of 230 Public Safety advisers in Vietnam, 150 were on loan from the military.] We also had a bunch of peculiar deals. I needed advisers, and I needed them bad. The Fifth Special Forces at Nha Trang meanwhile had a requirement for men in civilian clothes in three particular provinces where I needed advisers, too. Theirs was an intelligence requirement, mine was a working function, but a guy could do both jobs. When this came out, I went and laid it on the table with my boss. I wasn't pulling anything underhanded, and I got their permission to do this. These guys came along and were documented as local hires by A.I.D, but actually they were still in the military. They took over and did a damn fine job in the provinces.
"There were some officers, too," Grieves said, adding that "most of them were staff members. We also had an ex-military police major as an adviser to two Field Police companies working with the First Cavalry near Qui Nhon, rooting out V.C. He was there two days and said he wanted a ticket home. He said, 'I'd have stayed in the Army if I wanted this.'
"So Ed Schlacter took over in Binh Dinh," Grieves continued. "Based on Special Branch intelligence that Vietcong guerrillas were in the village, around first light the First Cavalry would go in by chopper and circle the village, followed by a Field Police squad, platoon, or company. While the Cav provided security, the Field Police would search people and look in the rice pot. The Americans never knew what was going on, but the Vietnamese in the Field Police would know how many people were feeding by looking in the rice pot. If they saw enough rice for ten people but only saw six people in the hooch, they knew the rest were hiding underground."
About the Special Branch, Grieves commented, "They had a security and intelligence gathering function. Special Branch furnished the intelligence on which the Field Police would react. They could pick up two or three guys themselves and actually didn't need to call in the Field Police unless it was a big deal.
"What we did was put a company of Field Police in each province," Grieves explained. "Originally the plan was for a fixed company: four platoons and a headquarters. If you had a big province, put in two companies. Then it became obvious, if you're going to put platoons in the districts, that it would be better to have one company headquarters and a variable number of platoons. So the basic unit became the forty-man three-squad platoon. They had M-sixteens and were semi mobile.
"In theory, each company had an adviser, but that was never the case. There were never enough. In fact, some of the places where we didn't have a Field Police adviser, the Public Safety adviser had to take it over. When I first went out there, some Public Safety people had to cover three provinces and were supposed to take the Field Police under their wing. In most cases, however, they didn't have any interest, and it didn't work too well. But when the thing got going, the Public Safety adviser had the Field Police adviser under him, and by the very end the companies were so well trained that they could run themselves."
💣💣💣💣💣💣💣
Doug McCollum was one of the first Public Safety advisers to manage Field Police units in Vietnam. Born in New Jersey and reared in California, McCollum served three years in the U.S. Army before joining the Walnut Creek Police Department in 1961. Five years later one of McCollum's colleagues, who was working for Public Safety in Vietnam, wrote and suggested that he do likewise. On April 16, 1966, Doug McCollum arrived in Saigon; two weeks later he was sent to Pleiku Province as the Public Safety police adviser.
"There was no one there to meet me when I arrived," McCollum recalled, "so I went over to the province senior adviser ... who didn't know I was coming and was surprised to see me. He didn't want me there either because of the previous Public Safety adviser, who was then living with his wife in Cambodia. Rogers didn't think Public Safety was any good." [3]
Not many people did. To give the devil his due, however, it was hard for a Public Safety adviser to distinguish between unlawful and customary behavior on the part of his Vietnamese counterpart. The province police chief bought his job from the province chief, and in turn the police chief expected a percentage of the profits his subordinates made selling licenses and paroles and whatever to the civilian population. Many police chiefs were also taking payoffs from black-marketeers, a fact they would naturally try to keep from their advisers -- unless the advisers wanted a piece of the action, too.
The problem was compounded for a Field Police commander and his adviser. As Grieves noted, "the Vietnamese Field Police platoon leader could not operate on his own. He received his orders and his tasks from commanders outside the Field Police, and the National Police commanders he worked for were in turn subjected to the orders of province and district chiefs who had operational control of the National Police."
Another limitation on the Field Police was the fact that Vietnamese policemen were prohibited from arresting American soldiers. Consequently, Doug McCollum worked closely with the Military Police in Pleiku to reduce tensions between American soldiers and Vietnamese and Montagnard pedestrians who often found themselves under the wheels of U.S. Army vehicles. With the cooperation of his counterpart, McCollum and the M.P's set up stop signs at intersections and put radar in place in an effort to slow traffic. To reduce tensions further, McCollum and the M.P's restricted soldiers to bars in the military compound.
A dedicated professional who is now an intelligence analyst for the Labor Department, McCollum believed he "was doing something for our country by helping police help people." One of his accomplishments as a Public Safety adviser was to renovate the province jail, which before his arrival had male and female prisoners incarcerated together. He inspected the P.I.C once a week, did manpower studies which revealed "ghost" employees on the police payroll, and managed the national identification program, which presented a unique problem in the highlands because "it was hard to bend the fingers of a Montagnard." McCollum also led the Field Police in joint patrols with the M.P's around Pleiku City's perimeter.
Soon McCollum was running the Public Safety program in three provinces -- Pleiku, Kontum, and Phu Bon. As adviser to the police chief in each province McCollum was responsible for collecting intelligence "from the police side" on enemy troop movements, caches, and cadres and for sending intelligence reports to his regional headquarters in Nha Trang. Then, in February 1967, McCollum was reassigned to Ban Me Thuot, the capital city of Darlac Province. There he had the police set up "a maze of barbed wire, allowing only one way into the city. I put people on rooftops and had the Field Police on roving patrols." McCollum also began monitoring the Chieu Hoi program. "They'd come in, we'd hold them, feed them, clothe them, get them a mat. Then we'd release them, and they'd wander around the city for a while, then disappear. It was the biggest hole in the net."
McCollum's feelings reflect the growing tension between people involved in police programs and those involved in Revolutionary Development. At times the two approaches to pacification seemed to cancel each other out. But they also overlapped. Said Grieves about this paradoxical situation: "We used to send Field Police squads and platoons down to Vung Tau for RD training, which was political indoctrination, and for PRU training, which was raids and ambushes. Now the RD Cadre were patterned on the Communists' political cadre, and they paralleled the civilian government. But most were city boys who went out to the villages and just talked to the girls. On the other hand, the Vietcong had been training since they were twelve. So the CIA was trying to do in twelve weeks what the Communists did in six years."
Phoenix eventually arose as the ultimate synthesis of these conflicting police and paramilitary programs. And with the formation of the Field Police, its component parts were set in place. The CIA was managing Census Grievance, RD Cadre, counter terror teams, and the P.I.C's. Military intelligence was working with the M.S.S, A.R.V.N intelligence, and the Regional and Popular Forces. A.I.D was managing Chieu Hoi and Public Safety, including the Field Police. All that remained was for someone to bring them together under the Special Branch.
next
Special Branch
notes Chapter 5 P.I.C.s
1, Galula, p. 117.
2. Slater, p. 21.
3. Galula, p. 124.
4. Scotton interview.
5. John Marks, The Search for the Manchurian Candidate (New York: New York Times Books, 1979), p. 178.
6. Marks, p. 179.
7. Johnson, A Study, p. 400.
8. Major General Joseph McChristian, The Role of Military Intelligence 1965-1967 (Washington D.C.: Department of the Army, 1974), p. 14.
9. McChristian, p. 71.
10. McChristian, p. 50.
11. McChristian, p. 26.
CHAPTER 6: Field Police
1. Interview with William Grieves.
2. Letter to the author from Nguyen Van Dai.
3. Interview with Douglas McCollum.
No comments:
Post a Comment