Lost Battalion of Tet: The Breakout of 2/12th Cavalry at Hue (Association of the United States Army) Revised Edition, Kindle Edition

What books are required reading for Army officers? When I was commissioned, Anton Myrer’s “Once an Eagle” was considered professional reading par excellence. This seemed remarkable because, frankly, the book bored me. It seemed poorly written. At best, I thought, it is a thinly veiled morality play in which the two main characters (Sam Damon and Courtney Massengale) represent antagonistic ideals. The good character exemplifies “great leadership,” which is presented as an end-in-itself, and the worst trait among the “bad” character’s many negative traits is that he is a poor commander. The moral to the story? It matters less where you lead your men or what they accomplish than that you lead them well, that you inspire them, that they follow you willingly, joyfully even (even if it is blindly off a cliff). The esteem with which Elbert Hubbert’s “A Message to Garcia” was held I found even more baffling. This essay did not seem to rise even to the level of overly simplistic morality play. It is a diatribe, a rant, in which the quality of unquestioning loyalty is exalted above all other qualities, in which the willingness to, yes, jump off that cliff if so ordered is extolled. Hubbert, it seemed, would have made a great Nazi. Ernest Dunlop Swinton’s “The Defense of Duffer’s Drift” taught me something about small-unit tactics on an infantry-pure battlefield, very little of value outside that laser focus. Michael Shaara’s “The Killer Angels” was an enjoyable read, but it, too, seemed to me like a play—in this case, one in which larger-than-life union and confederate generals say larger-than-life things and in which all the real muck and horror of war take place somewhere off-stage. I could go on in this vein, but it is best I move to the heart of the matter: as a profession, the U.S. Army is in desperate need of better written and more useful “classics.” Recently, I came across one little-known book that could help fill this need. Charles Krohn’s “The Lost Battalion of TET: Breakout of the 2/12 Cavalry at Hue” was first published by Praeger in 1993. In honor of the TET offensive’s 40th anniversary, the Naval Institute Press published a substantial revision in 2008—a version that was just recently released on Kindle. This revision tells a true story that is not just harrowing, but it accomplishes that most difficult of things for a military history to achieve: it usefully instructs without moralizing. During the Tet Offensive of early 1968, the 2/12 Cavalry battalion of the 3rd Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, suffered a 65 percent casualty rate, including 81 KIA and more than 250 wounded in action. As we learn in Krohn’s book, the outcome easily could have been much worse. The battalion could have been annihilated. In fact, the battalion SHOULD have been annihilated. Although lacking artillery support and, thanks to the weather, close air support, the battalion was ordered to attack an entrenched North Vietnamese Army (NVA) regiment across 200 yards of open field. This mission was, as Krohn describes, as futile and foolhardy as the famous Charge of the Light Brigade. The battalion, of course, was decimated. Then, the NVA regiment cagily drew the battalion in so as to completely surround it with superior numbers. Lacking any hope of reinforcements or supporting fires, only a desperate night exfiltration through a tiny gap in the enemy’s lines no wider than 75 yards allowed a majority of this battalion’s soldiers to escape enemy contact, reach higher ground, and survive. When reading of their escape, I found myself holding my breath, hardly believing that these 300+ men were going to make it. Surely, I thought, just one American soldier is going to fall in the darkness, groan in pain, sneeze, cough, step on a dry branch—do something, to alert the enemy just yards away of their presence. But, miracle of miracles, they made it. Thoroughly researched and well-written, Krohn’s account of this battle comes from the personal papers of the unit’s officers, captured enemy documents, and scores of interviews with survivors. Adding to his account’s authenticity is the fact that Krohn was there, a young captain serving as the battalion’s intelligence officer. This experience not only adds to the account’s authenticity, but it adds layers to the context of the battle, namely, the book’s descriptions of the NVA’s actions and his battalion’s actions relative to their enemy. The result is a book that succeeds on many levels. It succeeds first at the level of story, as a timeless tale of infantry soldiers in contact with a superior enemy and of the many characters—often eccentric, all brought vividly to life—who fight courageously and desperately to avert total catastrophe. It succeeds also as the best extant after-action review of this tactical defeat—the kind of defeat, as American military mythology would have it, the U.S. Army never suffered during the Vietnam War. How was it possible that a battalion of American soldiers could be ordered to attack a superior enemy across open terrain, and, once on their objective, find themselves surrounded and facing near-certain annihilation with no hope of rescue? Krohn does an excellent job of analyzing the many factors that led to the battalion’s desperate situation, from the havoc the NVA’s Tet Offensive wreaked on the U.S. supply system, to uniquely severe weather, to the choices made by a competent enemy, to false assumptions, and, in some cases, to ego-driven decision-making. That the book succeeds on just these two levels make it worthwhile reading for U.S. leaders and soldiers. What makes this book truly essential reading, I believe, is its success on a third level: its unusually frank discussion of how American military culture, when faced with tragic mistakes, can cause service members to “close ranks” and be less than fully honest with themselves and each other. Krohn discusses the nervous breakdown of the division commander at the height of the battle—a breakdown that was suppressed and went unreported to higher. He relates how the division’s embedded historians inaccurately described the battle, to include the notion that the battalion’s advance was supported by “indirect fire artillery, aerial rocket artillery, and helicopter gunships.” (The only item close to the truth here was that a lone gunship did try to aid the battalion’s advance, but this gunship accidentally fired upon the battalion rather than the enemy.) The historians are not to blame for these inaccuracies, though. They recorded what was reported to them by 1st Cavalry Division leaders. Krohn also discusses the damage done to the battalion commander’s reputation by the division commander, an ambitious man who clearly made errors and who just as clearly wanted to scapegoat the battalion commander for these errors. In short, blatant careerism and the distorted, overly positive reports of subordinates created a false narrative—a myth—that could have inhibited learning and damned our Army to repeat the same mistakes. This institutional tendency toward self-deception, Krohn suggests, poses a danger that all American military leaders need to be aware of and to resist. I agree. Krohn’s story sounds uncomfortable echoes in the present, such as in the growing number of myths surrounding the Abu Ghraib debacle. (“Those crimes had nothing to do with interrogation policy.” “Only a few bad military apples tortured prisoners.” “Only the CIA tortured systematically: the military institution chose the moral high ground.” Etc.) “The Lost Battalion” is not without its flaws. Considering the loss of so many of his comrades, Krohn’s analysis is (understandably) not always dispassionate, making it slightly suspect in a few places. Nonetheless, by unearthing the truth and enabling honest conversations to take place about what happened, Krohn has performed a valuable service, both to the Army and to the memory of his dead comrades. If there is any justice in the world, “The Lost Battalion” will become a hallowed U.S. Army classic. Its pages convey greater candor, realism, and a sense of immediacy to today’s U.S. military professional than the pages of nearly all of the other books enshrined today as essential Army reading. All U.S. Army students, from cadets to colonels at the War College, can enjoy—and gain grim lessons from—this exciting, tragic, and searingly honest book.

Author Krohn is to be commended for this fine work that fully deserves five stars. It is a mixture of first person narrative and scholarly research covering the unit reports and actions by individuals away from the action. Although the author strives mightily to explain the workings of the Army and its career-oriented officers, it may fall short for those who never served. Unfortunately, I cannot judge this point with authority having served myself as an officer in the Army for a number of years. The characters are extremely well presented, warts and all. The mistakes made by higher command are easily discernible although it is sometimes difficult to discover the correct person upon which to lay blame. In some cases, the problem is "the system" -- that element of groupthink and inner workings that cause a breakdown where everyone is able to point the finger at someone other than themselves. On the other hand, there is unsurpassed courage by the men in action, moving forward on what was understood by all to be almost a suicide operation during the Tet Offensive of 1968. Yet, only a single soldier out of 500 broke ranks and fled -- clear proof of the outstanding qualities and training of the troops on the ground. Much of the work is taken up with describing the command failures that almost caused the annihilation of the battalion. The move north by the 1st Cav was poorly planned and very poorly executed -- at one point the 2/12 was ordered not to take ammunition with it on the move. Then when they arrived at their destination, an unsecured area probed by the enemy that very night, there was no ammunition available. Fortunately, an officer had disobeyed the order, and the 2/12 was able to defend itself. Moving to attack the NVA regular army forces in Hue, the 2/12 was left on its own without coverage on its flanks, not given artillery support, and the limited air support it was given was directed at the 2/12 itself. Then, when it became apparent to the battalion commander on the ground that the attack could not possibly succeed against the numbers of enemy seen and their obviously well-prepared positions, the battalion was ordered to move forward (unsupported) anyway. Rather like Custer attacking with his five companies, except that in this case, Custer was not on the ground and sharing the risk. The attack was a failure as anticipated, and the 2/12 was surrounded by superior NVA forces. Annihilation stared the battalion commander in the face as ammunition began to run out, and it was only due to efforts of a few personnel in support that managed to scrounge ammunition, steal gasoline, and coax helicopter pilots to risk their lives, that kept the battalion from becoming wiped out. On the second night, the battalion executed an almost unbelievable escape from the pocket in total darkness, while the order for them to stay put reached the battalion commander only after they had broken through the ring. Clearly, had that order been received earlier, the battalion would have been sacrificed to a man. As the author so succinctly stated, "This incident demonstrates how far higher-level staff frequently are from the real world." The battalion was literally on its own, without support, and without anyone above them willing to risk his career to take action to save the battalion. Not surprisingly the battalion commander was given a poor efficiency rating by the division commander who was himself mostly responsible for the debacle. It is an axiom in all armies that a subordinate must make his commander look good to receive a high rating, and the battalion commander couldn't do that. All he could do was save his command and the lives of the men in his charge. In so doing, he made powerful enemies. The author himself was advised not to write this book since it would expose the command failures, make enemies, and cause harm to the image of the Army. Fortunately he did not abide by such counsel, and we are all the better as a result. I recommend this book to everyone, Army veterans or not. Everything good about the US is here, along with some of the careerism and gaming in the Army that is bad. Read and understand. It is only by reading books like this that we can learn from our mistakes. Ignore the lessons contained herein, and we will repeat those mistakes ad infinitum.

well written but less dramatic than its title suggests.one is still impressed by the NVA perfomance especiallyin comparison with the south vietnamese.Service was quick and in good condition

Charles A.Krohn a servi comme officier au Viêtnam, au sein de la 1st Air Cavalry Division. Il a ensuite travaillé pour le Pentagone et a notamment été conseiller en Irak pendant trois mois au sein du programme de reconstruction des infrastructures. Cet ouvrage a été initialement publié au Naval Institute Press en 1993. Il est consacré à un "bataillon perdu" pendant l'offensive du Têt, en pleine guerre du Viêtnam (1968), en l'occurrence le 2/12 Cavalry de la 1st Air Cavalry Division, encerclé par l'armée nord-viêtnamienne lors d'une progression au nord de la ville de Hué, pour dégager cette cité prise par les communistes dans sa quasi-totalité aux premiers jours de l'offensive. Les Américains raffolent des histoires de "bataillons perdus". Il y en avait eu un pendant la Première Guerre mondiale : plusieurs compagnies de la 77th Infantry Division isolées dans l'Argonne en octobre 1918 par les Allemands, épopée qui a inspiré plusieurs films (1919, 2001). Il y en a eu un aussi pendant la Seconde Guerre mondiale : le 1st Battalion du 141st Infantry Regiment de la 36th Infantry Division du Texas, encerclé dans les Vosges le 24 octobre 1944. Il fallait donc qu'il y en ait un aussi pour le Viêtnam, pour ainsi dire.Dans sa préface à la réédition, Krohn souligne combien son ouvrage lui a valu de réactions de la part des vétérans de l'unité ou de leurs familles. Il a revu d'ailleurs le chiffre des pertes : les tués passent de 60 à 81. Plus intéressant peut-être pour lui, un historien militaire du Center of Military History l'a contacté en 2006 pour l'histoire officielle de la guerre du Viêtnam qu'il était en train de composer. Krohn, à partir de son expérience au Viêtnam, pensait qu'une troupe d'infanterie légère ne pouvait résister à une force supérieure en nombre sans soutien d'artillerie. C'est ce qu'il plaida auprès du général Franks quand il vit avec horreur, raconte-t-il, que la 10th Mountain Division américaine partait en Afghanistan sans artillerie. Heureusement, dit-il aussi, la division suivante y allait munie d'un soutien d'artillerie ! Révélateur d'une certaine pensée américaine de la guerre, comme on le verra plus loin...Le 3 février 1968, les 400 hommes du 2/12th Cavalry sont jetés au nord de Hué contre une position retranchée nord-viêtnamienne, avec pour seul appui un gunship, sans soutien d'artillerie ni de l'aviation. A 3 contre 1, le commandant nord-viêtnamien tend un piège aux Américains et réussit à les encercler. Les premiers obus américains n'arrivent finalement que neuf heures après le premier contact avec l'ennemi. Le commandant du bataillon, Sweet, décide finalement d'opérer une percée vers l'ouest en laissant sur place les morts et le matériel lourd. Ces pertes tragiques provoquées par un manque de soutien sont exceptionnellement rares, selon l'auteur, dans l'armée américaine engagée au Viêtnam. Le général Tolson, commandant la 1st Cavalry Division, a en effet envoyé dans l'enfer un bataillon de sa 3rd Brigade pour dégager Hué, le 1er février 1968 : les Américains sont alors persuadés que l'assaut contre la ville est de faible envergure. Ce même jour, le 2/12 Cavalry est héliporté à PK 17, un camp au nord de Hué. Mais sans l'équipement lourd des soldats, ni leur soutien d'artillerie : seuls 2 tubes de 105 de l'ARVN sont sur la base pour soutenir les Américains. Et le gunship qui leur est affecté, le lendemain, commence par un friendly fire de bon augure...Alors officier de renseignements (S-2) Krohn a participé lui-même à l'engagement. Précédemment, la 1st Air Cavalry Division a rencontré évasivement l'armée nord-viêtnamienne, fin 1967 et jusqu'au début 1968 et l'offensive du Têt, dans la vallée de Que Son. Le 3 février, le 2/12 Cavalry est envoyé à la sauvette, sans équipement lourd ni soutien, contre le 6ème régiment nord-viêtnamien dont des éléments protègent, en fait, rien moins que le PC de l'opération menée contre la ville de Hué. Encerclés, les Américains, sous les ordres du lieutenant-colonel Sweet, réalisent alors une percée nocturne qui leur sera beaucoup reprochée car ils ont temporairement abandonné les corps de leurs camarades. Pourtant l'unité se voit attribuer la citation présidentielle et 11 Distinguished Service Crosses.Il est intéressant de voir comment Krohn semble atterré par cette expérience tragique qui n'aurait, selon lui, jamais dû arriver. Une bonne partie de l'ouvrage est d'ailleurs consacrée à déterminer les responsabilités, et en particulier celles des officiers supérieurs ou généraux de la 1st Air Cav. Sur le fond, on ne peut que constater la répugnance des officiers de la 1st Air Cavalry Division, pourtant souvent considérée comme faisant partie de l'élite de l'US Army au Viêtnam, à engager un adversaire, même supérieur en nombre, sans appui d'artillerie ou autre soutien. Comme si le combat au contact était une gageure pour l'armée américaine. C'est sans doute l'enseignement le plus intéressant du livre, à propos de la conception américaine de la guerre de manière générale. Comme beaucoup d'autres ouvrages du même genre, celui de Krohn est américanocentré. L'auteur essaye cependant, sur 6 pages, de se mettre à la place des Nord-Viêtnamiens, mais cela reste insuffisant et pas très convaincant. Imaginez que vous avez commandé un plat au restaurant et qu'on vous en apporte seulement la moitié, et que le serveur vous annonce que l'on n'a pas trouvé l'autre moitié pour vous la servir. C'est un peu l'impression que peut ressentir l'historien de formation quand on voit le récit d'un engagement comme celui-là, plutôt de faible envergure, mais vu seulement d'un côté. Un monologue en quelque sorte qui n'a d'intérêt que parce qu'il fournit l'analyse d'un engagement entre Américains et Nord-Viêtnamiens pendant l'offensive du Têt -en se basant largement sur des témoignages de vétérans et les documents officiels américains, comme le montre la bibliographie sinon très réduite (6 ouvrages !).Notons cependant la présence de cartes en parallèle du texte (pas forcément très nettes, mais elles ont le mérite d'être là et assez nombreuses), d'un livret photo central et d'annexes fournis (composition d'un bataillon, liste des pertes, citation présidentielle, liste des DSC décernées à l'unité).