From the S&S archives: A firsthand view of Vietnam for columnist Buckley

SAIGON — "Guest list for dinner in honor of Mr. William F. Buckley Jr.," said the list that, politely, named first the Vietnamese dignitaries like Foreign Minister Tran Van Lam and then the Americans beginning with Ambassador and Mrs. Bunker. "Eighteen men and poor Mrs. Bunker," said Bill Buckley, smiling. "Did you know she is the ambassador to Nepal?"

That is his mode: the question, asked first in childlike innocence, then didactically, to surprise-delight-horrify you even as he was surprised, delighted, horrified. Innocence: "Where is Nepal, anyway?" Didacticism: "Do you know the real story behind Hue?" Lighter: "Doesn't it seem spooky to think that if we flew another 20 minutes north we'd be shot down over the DMZ?"

When he has asked enough questions, he might come right out and tell you a thing or two, which some people think is what he does best: "I had dinner with Bernard Fall ten days before he was killed on the 'Street Without Joy,' and I took a great fancy to him. What made him most pessimistic was the general conclusion that the VC were wearing out. They weren't, of course, and that was just before Tet, 1968." Or: "I didn't even know who Joe Namath was until I wrote an article about him in Esquire."

After his three-day Vietnam visit and several more days in Laos and Thailand, Bill Buckley will be giving some answers — and asking some questions — in his syndicated column. The visit was official, however, and his findings about USIA activities here will be reported to the Congress by the President's Special Advisory Commission on Information. Buckley received military and USIA briefings and conferred with top Vietnamese and American officials.

"The idea of Vietnamization," he said as his plane neared Da Nang, "is of course right and the wonder is it wasn't advanced long ago. I advocated it five years ago. The deadline is important psychologically for both Vietnamese and Americans. For example, a year is too short a time. It takes 18 months to train a helicopter pilot. And six years is too long to spur effort or pacify American opinion. So Nixon should angle in on a realistic date somewhere in between. My guess is that he'll pull out 100,000 soldiers next year and make all combat duty voluntary the year after that."

In Hue, where Vietnamese have replaced Americans, Buckley questioned Maj. Gen. Ngo Quang Truong, commander of the 1st ARVN Div., reputed to be Vietnam's best, then flew north to LZ Nancy, headquarters of the 1st Regiment, 1st Div. The briefer described one campaign in which an enemy "hospital" had been destroyed. Bill's ears wiggled. A hospital? Yes. Were there any people in it? Yes, one hundred and six, said the briefer in a military manner. But it turned out not to be true. The briefer's imperfect understanding of English was at fault, which was a relief to Bill Buckley who is manifestly opposed to killing sick people in hospitals.

"My Lai was what we mostly talked about," he had said of most of his meetings. "It was either a catatonic situation, in which case ..." But the analysis lead to no earthshaking conclusion. Bill is waiting, even as Gen. Abrams is waiting. There are big questions to be asked.

On to the mass graves, southeast of Hue. It is nearly dusk, and the chopper lands on a lonely plain of white sand. Buckley looks at the graves, at the grass cords strewn here and there on the ground, used to tie the victims. Small human bones are also strewn on the ground. He picks some up.

"God," he mutters. There is an odd smell in the air. The inevitable question: "How does one know these are human bones?" No one answers, and he puts them in his coat pocket. A few minutes later he is flying back toward Da Nang, sitting in the pilot's seat, watching artillery shells splash on a mountainside in the darkness below.

"What happens if the power fails?" he asks the pilot. "Auto-rotation," says the pilot. The pilot switches off the engine for a few seconds and the bird drops. Bill is delighted.