Combat Studies Institute Press 

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas 

INTERsERVICE RIVALRY and 

AIRPOWER in the VIETNAM WAR 

DR. IAN HORWOOD 
Interservice Rivalry 

and 

Airpower in the Vietnam War

Dr. Ian Horwood

Combat Studies Institute Press 

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas 
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data 

Horwood, Ian, 1957­

 Interservice rivalry and airpower in the Vietnam War / Ian Horwood.

 p. cm.

 1. Vietnam War, 1961-1975--Aerial operations, American. 2. Interservice 

rivalry (Armed Forces)--United States. I. Title. 

DS558.8.H67 2006

 959.704’348--dc22

 2006031966 

Cover design by Michael G. Brooks. 

CSI Press publications cover a variety of military history topics. The 

views expressed in this CSI Press publication are those of the author and 

not necessarily those of the Department of the Army, or the Department 

of Defense. 

A full list of CSI Press publications, many of them available for downloading, can be found at http://www.cgsc.army.mil/carl/resources/csi/csi. 

asp. 
Foreword 

The Combat Studies Institute is pleased to publish this special study, 

Interservice Rivalry and Airpower in the Vietnam War, by Dr. Ian Horwood. 

Dr. Horwood, a British historian, has explored the rivalry between the 

armed services of the United States relating to the employment of tactical 

airpower during the Vietnam War. Not being an American, he is able to 

put a fresh perspective on this complex issue. 

This study focuses on tactical airpower in South Vietnam between 

1961 and 1968. Dr. Horwood avoids a lengthy discussion of the air war 

over North Vietnam, focusing instead on the combat operations in the 

South. Interservice Rivalry and Airpower in the Vietnam War examines 

a number of issues which are relevant to the use of airpower in irregular 

warfare. Among them are command and control of airpower, the use of 

airpower at the tactical and the operational-strategic level of war, the role 

of helicopters, and different service understandings of the proper role of 

airpower in a counterinsurgency. 

The Army is, of course, keenly interested in the air-ground integration 

as it performs its role in achieving military success on the ground. Always 

contentious since its invention a century ago, the proper role for airpower 

in war is even more complex in the irregular wars which the US has faced 

since the end of the Cold War, and which it faces today in the Long War. 

We at CSI believe this study will provide useful insights for military 

professionals. CSI- The Past is Prologue!

 Timothy R. Reese

 Colonel, Armor

 Director, Combat Studies Institute 

iii 

About the Author 

Dr Ian Horwood was born in Luton in Bedfordshire, England. He holds 

a BA in politics and modern history from the University of Manchester, an 

MA in history from the University of Missouri-Columbia; and a PhD in 

history from the University of Leeds. He has taught history and American 

studies at York St John University since 1994 where he is Senior Lecturer 

and Head of the Contemporary History Program. He lives in York with his 

wife and two children. 

v 

Contents 

Foreword .................................................................................................. iii

Chapter 2. Competing Visions of Airmobility:

Chapter 6. Khe Sanh: Interservice Rivalry or 

About the Author ....................................................................................... v

Introduction............................................................................................... 1

Chapter 1. The Doctrinal Background ...................................................... 4

The Howze and Disosway Reports of 1962............................................ 37

Chapter 3. Command and Control .......................................................... 63

Chapter 4. Tactical Airlift in Vietnam ................................................... 101

Chapter 5. Close Air Support in Vietnam ..............................................119

Interservice Cooperation? ..................................................................... 139

Conclusion ............................................................................................ 175

Bibliography ......................................................................................... 191

vii 

INTRODUCTION 

There was undoubtedly enthusiasm among some professionals as well as 

the Administration and the public about what airpower might accomplish. 

Americans like to think in terms of an immaculate war in the wild blue 

yonder and some Air Force publicists have encouraged this Madison 

Avenue fantasy. The Air Force is a young service led by enthusiasts who 

had to fight hard to establish its validity against military traditionalists 

and from time to time it has oversold its capabilities.* 

The primary objectives of this study are to establish the nature and 

levels of rivalry and dispute between the United States armed services 

over matters relating to the military application of airpower during the 

Vietnam period, and to assess the extent to which such rivalry may have 

distorted US operational policy in Southeast Asia. It is probably a truism to 

suggest that interservice rivalry has always been endemic among military 

establishments in the modern age, yet there are few monographs that 

deal specifically with the subject. Presumably, interservice rivalry is so 

commonplace that it excites little comment among military historians and 

analysts, except in passing. However, if interservice rivalry is so typical of 

military organisms then it constitutes one of their defining characteristics 

and is worthy of study for this reason alone. Furthermore, it is also worthy 

of study by virtue of the fact that it may be an influential factor in the making 

of military decisions by which wars are fought, won and lost. Clearly, this 

suggests that interservice rivalry may be significant from both a purely 

historical point of view and also in terms of its contribution to the military 

capabilities and effectiveness of different military establishments. 

The historical development of airpower suggests that interservice 

rivalry is especially prevalent in this particular area of military activity. 

From the very beginnings of military aviation, armies and navies have 

argued as to how the new assets should be used, how they should be 

developed and which service should control them. This was certainly the 

case in the United States. 

The problem has been compounded, rather than resolved, by the 

development of independent air forces. 

*Hanson W. Baldwin, Introduction to Jack Broughton, Thud Ridge (New 

York, 1985) xii-xiii. 

1 
These entities were founded on the basis of the strategic air warfare 

philosophy originally put forward by the classical airpower theorists like 

the Italian Giulio Douhet, the British Hugh Trenchard or the American 

Billy Mitchell, often at the expense of the more tactical supporting roles 

preferred by the surface forces. Here, again, the United States is a good 

example with the emergence of an independent US Air Force dominated 

by advocates of strategic warfare from an Army whose ground forces 

demanded tactical air support as the primary responsibility of the new air 

arm. 

In the US case, interservice rivalry over issues connected with the 

military application of airpower may be especially acute because of the 

enormous resources at stake in the competition between the armed forces 

over budgets and responsibilities, and the existence of the US Marine 

Corps as virtually a fourth armed service complete with its own organic 

“air force” including state-of-the-art helicopters and fi xed-wing aircraft. 

Interservice rivalry seems to be a constant fact of military life in 

peace time. Indeed, armed services may sometimes even measure their 

relative success in terms of the accumulation of resources and authority 

at the expense of their sister services, regardless of the extent to which 

this detracts from their peace time preparations for the pursuit of national 

objectives in time of war. The achievement of those objectives becomes 

more significant—though not necessarily paramount—in wartime. 

The differing service requirements in times of peace and war may 

perhaps be illustrated by the issue of the close air support of US ground 

forces in both the Second World War and the Korean War. In both cases, the 

services were obliged to revisit close air support arrangements established 

in peace time because they were so clearly failing the test of combat. At 

the end of both conflicts, however, detailed arrangements for the close air 

support of ground forces that had seemed so absolutely vital in wartime 

were abandoned under the new conditions of the peace. 

The issue of close air support, along with several other long-standing 

interservice airpower disputes concerning theater-level command 

arrangements and tactical airlift re-emerged in the Vietnam War. Here, they 

were further complicated by the US Army’s employment of helicopters, en 

masse for the first time, as the primary method of maneuver, supplanting 

foot or road vehicle mobility for large combined arms formations up to 

divisional size: a technique known as “airmobility.” The development of 

this concept, along with its concomitant requirement for a vastly increased 

US Army aviation establishment, including armed, fixed- and rotary-wing 

aircraft was bound to call into question the exact nature of the relationship 

between the US Army and the US Air Force. 

2 
This study concentrates on tactical airpower in South Vietnam and 

deals with the air war over North Vietnam only insofar as it influenced 

interservice issues in the South. In order to fully understand the interservice 

airpower issues that emerged during the Vietnam War, it is fi rst necessary 

to look back at the pre-Vietnam doctrinal background that preceded them. 

In regard to the Vietnam War itself, the study’s starting point is the arrival 

of the first US combat aircraft in South Vietnam in 1961, and concludes 

with the pivotal year of 1968. The latter date is of necessity somewhat fluid, 

but it forms a rough stopping point because rivalry over airpower issues 

between the US armed forces seems to have been in decline after this date, 

or at least it seems to have been subject to attenuation by compromise 

agreements which were in force until the end of United States involvement 

in Southeast Asia. Expressions of these compromises are to be found in 

post-1968 documents, but these reflect pre-1968 experience. 

3 
CHAPTER 1 

THE DOCTRINAL BACKGROUND 

Doctrine: The fundamental principles by which the military forces or 

elements thereof guide their actions in support of national objectives.1 

During their participation in the war in South Vietnam, the armed forces of 

the United States were afflicted by serious interservice disputes over airpower 

issues. Broadly, the main areas of disagreement concerned the command and 

control of airpower assets, close air support of ground forces and the application of the new concept of air mobility to military operations. As the origins of 

these disputes predated the Vietnam War, it is necessary to understand something of their historical development prior to United States involvement in 

Southeast Asia before one can fully appreciate them in their Vietnam context. 

The American military establishment that went to war in Vietnam still 

bore the indelible imprint of the Second World War. The last great global 

conflict constituted a watershed in the development of United States military doctrine. Those systems and techniques developed for the command 

and utilization of the nation’s armed forces during the Second World War 

—and which had brought it such stunning victories—set the standard by 

which the United States expected to wage war in the foreseeable future. 

COMMAND AND CONTROL 

Drawing on the successful experience of the Second World War, the administration of President Harry Truman attempted to formalize what it perceived 

to be the war’s lessons for military command and control. The resulting 1947 

National Security Act did not, however, resolve some outstanding command 

and control issues that had manifested themselves during the war, and it created some new ones, which became apparent only in the crucible of Korea. Still 

unresolved, these difficulties remained latent, ready to re-emerge in the 1960s, 

this time exacerbated by the peculiar circumstances of war in Southeast Asia. 

During the Second World War, the first of the great combined operations 

conducted by the Allied coalition took place in late 1942 with the amphibious 

landings in French North Africa codenamed Operation TORCH. Traditional 

methods for coalition warfare called for the employment of separate, coequal, operational commands for each nation’s forces, with attached liaison 

missions from their opposite numbers. However, it soon became obvious that 

this would not suffice for an international amphibious operation of the scope 

and complexity envisaged. Clearly an unprecedented level of international 

4 
command integration was called for and the arrangements adopted for North 

Africa were to set the pattern for the Allied theater commands—subsequently 

designated “supreme headquarters”—throughout the remainder of the war. 

Circumstances dictated that the commander in chief of the Allied Expeditionary Force for TORCH must be an American offi cer. 

At the Arcadia conference in Washington, in December 1941, Prime 

Minister Winston Churchill and President Franklin D. Roosevelt had 

agreed on a policy of prioritizing the defeat of Germany over that of 

Japan, but it was a Japanese attack in the Pacific that had brought the 

United States into the war. It was, therefore, vital to focus the American public’s attention on the war with Germany as soon as possible. 

An invasion of French North Africa by predominantly American forces 

seemed to offer a relatively low-risk way of achieving this objective. 

While the French still bore the British considerable ill will for their attacks on French forces earlier in the war at Mers El Kebir and Dakar, the 

Vichy French authorities in North Africa might be reasonably amenable to 

an explicitly American landing; perhaps they would even allow it to proceed 

unopposed? As most of the personnel involved in TORCH would be from the 

United States Army, it seemed logical that the commander in chief should be 

an American Army officer, and the Allied leaders’ choice was General Dwight 

D. Eisenhower. This established a pattern in which the Combined Chiefs of 

Staff allotted theater commands to officers of the numerically preponderant 

nationality and service. Given the peculiar political circumstances of TORCH, 

the Combined Chiefs also chose an American as Deputy Commander in Chief 

of the Allied Expeditionary Force: Major General Mark W. Clark, a practice 

which was not sustained in subsequent Allied theater command arrangements. 

In a relatively uncontroversial decision—since the British provided the 

bulk of the forces involved—the Allied naval forces committed to TORCH 

were centralized under the command of British Admiral Sir Andrew Cunningham, who was directly answerable to Eisenhower. Matters were more 

complicated in the air, however, where both Britain and the United States 

provided sizable forces. Consequently, control of the air forces committed 

to TORCH was divided between a United States command under Brigadier General James H. Doolittle and a British command under Air Marshal 

Sir William Welsh. As neither of these officers was directly responsible to 

TORCH’s commander, Eisenhower retained two air advisers on his own staff 

—one from each nationality—to assist him. Thus, airpower for the TORCH 

landings was not centralized under the theater commander’s direct control. 

The command arrangements for air assets and existing United States 

Army tactical air support doctrine were soon found wanting in North West 

5 
Africa. During the early days of the campaign, the Army Air Force’s tactical assets were, according to existing doctrine as established in War Department Field Manual FM 31-35, Aviation in support of Ground Forces 

(1942), parcelled out to individual ground formations which exercised operational command over their attached supporting aircraft.2

 These arrangements resulted in piecemeal defensive operations while the numerically inferior German air force was left free to seize the initiative by concentrating 

against individual Allied units. The British tactical air forces allocated to 

TORCH did little better, despite the fact that the Royal Air Force’s Western 

Desert Air Force had built up a sophisticated body of tactical air support 

doctrine that did emphasize the centralized control of air power. This was 

to form the basis for a revision of Army Air Force tactical air support doctrine when, after several defeats, the Combined Chiefs centralized the total 

air strength committed to North Africa under Eisenhower’s direct control. 

Following the Casablanca Conference in January 1943, the responsibilities of Eisenhower’s Headquarters Allied Forces were broadened to those 

of a “theater” command encompassing all Allied forces operating in North 

Africa or those that could have a direct influence on the campaign there. 

Thus, General Bernard Montgomery’s British Eighth Army came under 

Eisenhower’s command. The Combined Chiefs also created an integrated 

Mediterranean Air Command composed of both British and American air 

assets, under Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Tedder, which was directly answerable to Eisenhower’s headquarters on matters relating to North Africa.3 

Under the new command arrangements, Mediterranean Air Command had 

equal status with the ground forces operating in North Africa. This made 

Eisenhower’s Headquarters Allied Forces, effectively, what in modern parlance would be called a “unified” command where all the services had theoretically equal status. This can be contrasted with the concept of a “specified” command in which one service is given exclusive authority for the 

conduct of a campaign, while the others adopt only subordinate roles. In 

practice, the service “equality” of Eisenhower’s command was attenuated 

somewhat by the fact that while Tedder was responsible for air power within the command, Eisenhower himself served as his own army component 

commander, giving the land forces a measure of priority; this was a practice that Eisenhower was to continue as Supreme Commander in Europe. 

Mediterranean Air Command included the Northwest African Air Forces 

under General Carl A. Spaatz that integrated both British and American air 

assets. Spaatz was theater air component commander both in name, and in 

fact, in that, despite some opposition from Cunningham, he had responsibility for all air power within North West Africa.4

 Spaatz, in turn, controlled an 

integrated Northwest African Tactical Air Force, again including both British and American forces, under Air Vice-Marshal Sir Arthur Coningham. 

6 
Drawing on his previous experience as commander of the Western Desert 

Air Force, Coningham insisted that in order to realize the potential flexibility 

of air power, and facilitate its concentration at decisive points, the ultimate 

authority for the deployment of his air resources must be removed from the 

ground commanders and placed in the hands of air force officers who would 

then cooperate with the ground forces subject to the doctrinal precept that 

the first priority for air power must be air superiority, not close air support. 

Eisenhower endorsed this as the basis of air power doctrine in North Africa.5 

These revised arrangements proved successful with Eisenhower declaring that: 

Perhaps the greatest advantage of our new organization was its flexibility. Aircraft of the different 

combat formations could be fused in a single mission as the need arose and as a result the local commander had for direct support the combined weight 

of the strategic and tactical forces when he needed it.6 

One of the factors stimulating the overhaul of command relationships regarding air power in North Africa had been the American defeat at Kasserine Pass in February of 1943. The details of the revised air 

command system were delivered to a board investigating Kasserine by 

the Deputy Commander of the Northwest African Tactical Air Force, 

Brigadier General Laurence Kuter, and, as a consequence, were adopted 

as official United States service doctrine in War Department Field Manual 100-20: Command and Employment of Air Power on 21 July 1943. 

The authors of FM 100-20 insisted that a single theater commander 

should be responsible for both air and ground forces. They declared that 

air and ground forces were coequal, that tactical airpower must be placed 

under centralized command and that a tactical air commander must be 

able to mass his aircraft when decisive targets presented themselves.7 

With his success in North Africa and his proven diplomatic skills 

in fostering the smooth cooperation of Allied forces, Eisenhower was 

the obvious choice for the command of the Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force (SHAEF) tasked with the liberation of Western Europe. Given his own role in the North African campaign, Tedder 

was also a logical choice as Eisenhower’s Deputy Supreme Commander. 

His appointment reflected the importance of British forces and airpower in the coming campaign, which would open with the amphibious assault on the Normandy coast, code named Operation OVERLORD. 

Drawing on the experience of North Africa, the Combined Chiefs of 

Staff established SHAEF as an integrated, unified theater command which 

7 
included a centralized air component in the shape of the integrated Allied 

Expeditionary Air Force (AEAF) whose commander, Air Chief Marshal Sir 

Trafford Leigh-Mallory, would report directly to Eisenhower. The AEAF 

was, however, only a temporary expedient for the period of the invasion and 

its subsequent build up. After its disbandment in October 1944, SHAEF’s 

air forces were only centralized on a national basis with the RAF supporting British forces and the USAAF supporting the US Army Ground Forces.8 

In any case, Leigh-Mallory did not control all the air forces committed 

to OVERLORD. The invasion’s planners hoped to use the Allied strategic 

air forces—RAF Bomber Command and the USAAF’s Eighth Air Force—in 

the run-up to, and in immediate support of, the invasion itself. However, their 

commanders were adherents of classical airpower theory. They believed that 

airpower could win the war independent of a ground campaign and they did 

not wish to see the strategic air war interrupted by “tactical” operations in 

Western Europe. Only reluctantly did they accede to the use of their aircraft 

in support of the Normandy invasion, and they succeeded in keeping them 

outside the AEAF command structure. It was left to Tedder to liaise between 

the AEAF and the strategic air forces during the air operations associated 

with the invasion, a role for which Eisenhower believed him well suited: 

Otherwise a commander is forever fighting with 

those airmen who, regardless of the ground situation, want to send big bombers on missions 

that have nothing to do with the critical effort.9 

The command and control lessons arising from the United States’ experience in the Second World War seemed to be that coalition forces should 

be commanded by an officer of the most heavily represented nationality and 

service; that such forces, especially when engaged in complex amphibious 

operations, should be closely integrated; that the importance of naval and 

air forces in modern warfare dictated a unified command structure for combined operations in which all the services were coequal and that all airpower 

assets should be centralized under the authority of the theater commander. 

The success of arrangements like those in North Africa and Europe, and 

a quest for greater efficiency, were factors behind the movement for service 

unification after the Second World War. Such a development found special favor with USAAF officers who, paradoxically, hoped to achieve independent 

status within a unified military establishment, and while the Army Ground 

Forces had protested the adoption of coequal status by the USAAF during 

the war, they raised no special objections to service unification after it. Only 

Navy officers were opposed to unification on the grounds that they believed it 

would make the armed forces less, rather than more efficient, but their objec8 
tions were overruled by President Truman. Consequently, the 1947 National 

Security Act unified the services under the administration of a single National 

Military Establishment—later the Department of Defense—led by a civilian 

secretary. The act established an independent United States Air Force and a unified Joint Chiefs of Staff on which all the services had equal representation.10 

With the outbreak of the Korean War, the Joint Chiefs of Staff established a 

unified Far East Command (FECOM) under General Douglas MacArthur who 

was also commander in chief of the United Nations Command. As a unified 

theater commander, MacArthur might have been expected to have remained 

independent from his three-service component commands, but like Eisenhower before him, MacArthur chose to act as his own Army component commander, employing his Far East Command Staff—composed primarily of Army 

personnel—in the additional role of a theater-level Army headquarters staff.11 

During the early days of the war, the naval component of FECOM, 

Naval Forces Far East (NAVFE), was answerable directly to MacArthur for all its operations, including those conducted by its aircraft that 

flew from the carriers of Task Force-77 (TF-77) off the coast. Clearly, 

this ran counter to the Air Force’s belief in the essential requirement for 

the centralization of air resources under a single air commander answerable to the theater commander. Furthermore, NAVFE pressed for the allocation of a dedicated Naval area of air operations over Korea for which 

TF-77 would have exclusive responsibility. This, too, was inconsistent with the Air Force’s requirement that an air component commander 

should be able to apply any and all air assets at any point of his choosing. 

Far East Air Force (FEAF) commander Lieutenant General George E. 

Stratemeyer requested that he be given operational control of all aircraft operating over Korea, regardless of their service of origin. MacArthur agreed and, 

by mid-1952, after some debate as to what actually constituted operational 

control, NAVFE complied under protest.12 The situation was further complicated by the addition of Marine aircraft in Korea. Stratemeyer insisted that 

these aircraft should also come under his control, but the Marines put up a fierce 

resistance. They envisaged their air assets as supplemental firepower for their 

lightly armed ground formations in their primary role of amphibious assault. 

Thus, Marine Corps pilots were ground support specialists and their commanders insisted they should remain outside any centralized Air Force system 

at the exclusive disposal of Marine ground forces. Ultimately, a compromise 

was reached. Marine aircraft did come under the control of FEAF, but any sorties surplus to FEAF requirements remained at the disposal of the Marines.13 

Following the Second World War, the USAAF, and later the USAF, set 

about codifying its basic doctrine in the light of its experience during that 

9 
conflict. The Air University at Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama, became 

the service’s doctrinal development center. Long in gestating, the fi rst fruits 

of its labor finally emerged after the Korean War as AFM1-2 United States 

Air Force Basic Doctrine (1953). The drafters of this document insisted that 

air power must be centrally controlled at the highest level of command, a 

principle that remained fundamentally unchanged through three revisions 

of AFM1-2.14 Thus, according to AFM1-2 (1959), exploitation of the inherent flexibility of air power, required that air forces must be responsive at 

all levels of operation to employment as a single aggregate instrument,’ but 

the very flexibility of this instrument inevitably leads to competing demands 

upon its services which might result in it being frittered away in piecemeal 

effort. Consequently, “Command arrangements at all levels must be adequate to preclude such wastage, which could be disastrous. In all aerospace 

efforts—regardless of their nature or scope—segmentation must be avoided 

by centralizing control of the aerospace forces that are allocated and employed.”15 Implicit within these statements are the notions that the single aggregate instrument that is air power includes not only the “aerospace forces 

of the Air Force—the fundamental aerospace forces of the nation,” but also 

the air forces operated by the other services, and that as the air power specialists, such centralized control should be exercised by Air Force officers.16 

Success during the Second World War recommended the effi ciency of 

the unified supreme headquarters model where the commander in chief was 

responsible for all military forces—regardless of their service of origin— 

committed to a single theater of operations and in which all services have 

equal status. The proclivity towards unified command structures was reinforced by the 1947 National Security Act’s establishment of the Joint Chiefs 

of Staff, itself a unified body. While the supreme headquarters of the Second World War were technically unified bodies, practice dictated that theater 

commanders should be drawn from the numerically preponderant service 

involved in any campaign. This tended to mean army officers and, more 

specifically in the United States’ case, Army Ground Forces offi cers, though 

there were exceptions in which Supreme Commanders were Navy officers. 

Under no circumstances were Supreme Commands allotted to Army Air 

Force officers, though they did fill the role of deputy supreme commanders. 

The experience of coalition warfare in the Second World War suggested that theater command arrangements should be as closely integrated 

as national sensibilities would permit, while still leaving the United States 

ultimate freedom of action. This had worked well between two technologically sophisticated and culturally similar countries like Great Britain and the 

United States. Part of the reason for this success was the fact that Britain 

and the United States’ contributions to the war against Germany might be 

10 
said to have been very roughly equal, with Britain providing the bulk of the 

resources at first while the United States built-up its war effort. Eventually, 

the United States assumed the role of senior partner, but by this time the integrated command arrangements were well established, and while there clearly 

were serious problems between the western Allies at times, they must be said 

to represent an outstanding example of international military cooperation.17 

In the Pacific, the United States so clearly bore the brunt of the war 

against Japan that her preeminence was never in dispute, though the British 

did bear primary responsibility for the South East Asia Command. In practice, because the balance of forces was usually in the United States’ favor, 

American officers enjoyed a monopoly of the decisive theater commands 

during the Second World War. 

In regard to airpower, the centralization of air assets under the direct 

control of the theater commander, exercised through his air component commander, was a fundamental principle arising from Second World War experience. In practice, this meant a USAAF officer; and after the creation 

of the independent air force, a USAF officer. This lesson was employed in 

Korea where all air assets were eventually brought under the operational 

control of an Air Force officer. This incurred resistance from both the Navy 

and the Marine Corps. They had not built up their own air assets only to 

see their operational control pass to another service. Centralization under 

Air Force control was particularly offensive to the Marines whose airpower doctrine stressed the organic nature of their own air assets. Having 

lost a measure of operational control over their own airpower in Korea, the 

Marines were determined that this should not happen again in Vietnam. 

Another historical factor acting upon the command and control arrangements for the Vietnam War relates to MacArthur’s performance as 

head of Far East Command during the Korean War. MacArthur became so 

powerful that he dared to challenge Truman’s direction of the war. While 

the general’s insubordination eventually resulted in his dismissal, the affair contributed, in no small part, to the Democrats’ defeat in the 1952 

presidential election. Subsequent to Korea, it has been politically incumbent on any president to ensure that no military commander can become 

so powerful as to believe that they can dictate policy in their own right. 

Designed to render the services more efficient and less parochial, the unification authorized in the 1947 National Security Act, in some respects, had 

the opposite effect. The individual service chiefs were to serve their parent 

services for most of their careers before joining the Joint Chiefs. Loyalty to the 

parent service was to prove, therefore, a difficult habit to break. Indeed, there 

was little incentive to do so. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs did not have the 

11 
authority to promote or demote members of the Joint Staff who, on completion of their short tours, returned to their parent services. These factors tended 

to perpetuate individual service parochialism in the Joint Chiefs, preventing 

it from functioning as a military executive in the manner of a general staff. 

Only the mediocrity of bureaucratic compromise moderated this tendency.18 

The process of unification also engendered an enduring sensitivity 

among the services about responsibility for roles and missions. In Vietnam, 

this sensitivity manifested itself in a series of demarcation disputes—in particular those between the Army and the Air Force over responsibility for the 

close air support mission and air mobility. 

CLOSE AIR SUPPORT 

According to an agreement between Secretary of Defense James F. Forrestal and the Joint Chiefs of Staff, reached at Key West, Florida, in March 

1948, close air support was defined as, “the attack by aircraft of hostile ground 

or naval targets which are so close to friendly forces as to require detailed 

integration of each air mission with the fire and movement of those forces.”19 This definition was to remain valid up to, and during, the Vietnam War. 

From its inception with the formation of the Aeronautical Division of 

the United States Army Signal Corps on 1 August 1907, the primary function of US military aviation had been the support of land forces, originally 

by the provision of intelligence data from airborne reconnaissance missions and then, increasingly, by the provision of close air support by armed 

aircraft. Suitably expanded, such tactical air support had been the primary function of the Army Air Service of the American Expeditionary Force 

during United States participation in the First World War in Europe, and it 

remained so for the Army Air Corps between the World Wars. Of all the 

aspects of the new field of military aviation, tactical air support was, not 

surprisingly, that which most interested the Army General Staff and, prior 

to the Second World War, it was they who dictated official doctrine to the 

Army’s air arm. Thus, the Army Field Service Regulations of 1923 emphasized close support of the land forces as the Air Corps’ primary mission. 

However, despite the tactical nature of official Army air doctrine many, 

indeed most, Air Corps officers came to hold conflicting views of the 

best manner in which to employ the service’s airpower. Their vision was 

shaped by the ideas of the classical airpower theorists like the Italian Giulio Douhet, the First Commander of the British Royal Air Force, Hugh 

Trenchard, and the United States’ own Billy Mitchell. These theorists all 

believed that the airplane’s greatest military potential lay in its use as a 

weapon of strategic bombardment. This view of airpower as an offensive 

weapon, best used independently of the land forces, became fi rmly estab12 
lished within the Air Corps Tactical School from the early 1930s onwards.20 

As part of the expansion of the United States military establishment that 

preceded entry in to the Second World War, Army Chief of Staff, George C. 

Marshall, established the Army Air Forces on 20 June 1941. The new force 

included an Air War Plans Division tasked with producing a plan for the employment of United States airpower in the European war. The Air War Plans 

Division was primarily composed of strategic airpower enthusiasts who had 

been instructors at the Air Corps Tactical School. Thus, the core of their master war plan, completed in July 1941 and known as AWPD-1, was a strategic 

bomber offensive which, the planners hoped, would bring Germany to her 

knees without a land campaign. In the event that this proved insufficient, 

the planners did also prepare for the air support of a ground war in Europe.21 

Thus, the United States entered the Second World War with an airpower doctrine containing two conflicting strands. On the one hand, the 

Army Air Forces possessed a body of tactical air support doctrine largely dictated by the Army’s ground commanders. In this tactical doctrine, 

air power assets were to be divided between ground units and subject to 

their operational control.22 On the other hand, Army aviators themselves 

no longer considered tactical air support as the service’s primary function. Their views were reflected in the new strategic emphasis of AWPD-1. 

While the actual detail of AWPD-1 was somewhat overtaken by events, 

strategic bombing campaigns lay at the heart of Army Air Forces efforts 

during the Second World War. Nevertheless, it remained necessary for the 

service to provide air support to the ground forces throughout the war. However, as we have seen, existing tactical air support doctrine proved unsuccessful during the early days of the Army Air Forces first tactical campaign 

in North Africa. As a result, Eisenhower transformed the air support system by placing the entire Army Air Forces’ strength under his own, centralized, control. The revised arrangements proved successful and established 

the centralization of air assets as a key principle of airpower doctrine.23 

FM 100-20 made clear that there was more to tactical air operations than 

the close air support that was the primary focus of the Army Ground Forces. In 

order to wrest the initiative from the Luftwaffe in North Africa, the Army Air 

Forces had found it necessary to attack the German air force itself prior to conducting other operations more directly in support of the troops on the ground. 

Thus, air superiority over the battlefield had become the primary tactical air 

mission. This was reflected in FM 100-20 with close air support coming only 

third in the Army Air Forces’ list of priorities.24 Furthermore, the manual 

hinted at the extent of the Army Air Forces ambitions. The classical airpower 

theorists believed that airpower was the decisive weapon, capable of winning 

13 
wars independently of the other arms and therefore superior to them. The logic 

of this thinking suggested that airpower should be exercised by an independent air force. No such suggestion was made in FM 100-20, but the manual 

did declare that the Army Air Forces and the Army Ground Forces were now 

possessed of equal status, a claim that the latter arm found difficult to accept.25 

Despite their greater interest in strategic air warfare, the Army Air Forces 

were pledged to provide support to the Army Ground Forces. Their North African close air support system was successfully continued and refined in Italy, and 

then Western Europe after the Normandy landings. Different close air support 

systems were, however, applied to suit local conditions in the Pacifi c theaters. 

In the South and Central Pacific theater, the United States pursued a campaign characterized by a series of amphibious operations against Japanese 

fortified islands that resembled nothing less than siege warfare. In the interwar years, the US Marine Corps had carved out an amphibious warfare role 

for itself, which it was to retain after the Second World War. Consequently, 

the Marines developed their tactical air doctrine with amphibious operations 

in mind. They came to envisage their integral air arm as flying artillery in 

support of their lightly armed ground formations. Thus, the Marines required 

relatively lavish amounts of air support compared to their Army cousins who 

could usually rely on greater artillery support—standard Marine procedure 

called for the support of each Marine division in the field by a Marine air wing. 

In order to fulfill this artillery substitution role, Marine aircraft had to be 

available to the ground commanders within five or ten minutes. Therefore, the 

Marines adopted the standard procedure of allotting aircraft to ground formations on an “air alert” basis in which “cab ranks” of fi ghter-bombers would 

orbit the combat zone awaiting strike requests from Marine forward air observers who accompanied the ground forces into combat at the battalion level. 

By contrast, the Air Force tactical air doctrine, developed during the 

Second World War, assumed the Army would normally use its own artillery for the support of its troops in immediate contact with the enemy, reserving the use of airpower for deeper targets. As these would not come 

into contact with the ground troops for some time, the Air Force considered that requests for air support could most efficiently be handled by Air 

Force aircraft scrambling from ground bases rather than orbiting overhead.26 

This would, of course, take much more time from request for support by 

the ground commander to aircraft over target, than the five to ten minutes 

required by the Marines. Indeed, it might even be argued that Air Force tactical air doctrine included little provision for close air support at all, since the 

service deemed this more properly an Army artillery mission than an air one. 

Following the Second World War, Army Air Forces Commander, Gen14 
eral Carl A. Spaatz, promised Army Chief of Staff, General Eisenhower, continued support in the form of a dedicated Tactical Air Command (TAC). This 

command was established in March 1946. The following year, the Army Air 

Forces achieved its objective of independence when it split away from the 

Army Ground Forces to form the United States Air Force. Paradoxically, 

this was a consequence of an act designed to unify the services under the 

administration of a single National Military Establishment led by a civilian 

Secretary of Defense. Under the provisions of the act, both the Navy and the 

Marine Corps were permitted to retain their aviation assets while the Army 

was permitted to retain, “such aviation . . . as may be organic therein.”27 Consequently, the various branches of the Army retained their organic aviation. 

Simultaneously, with the National Security Act, the President endorsed 

the supplemental Executive Order 9877 designed to specify the different 

functions of each of the armed forces. The order specifi ed exclusive Air 

Force responsibility for “air transport of the armed forces, except as provided 

by the Navy . . . for essential internal administration and for air transport 

over routes of sole interest to naval forces where the requirement cannot 

be met by normal air transport facilities,” strategic air warfare, air superiority operations, air lift and support for airborne operations, air support to 

the land forces and “coordination of air defense among all the services.”28 

This did not prevent the emergence of friction between the services over 

responsibility for roles and missions. The main areas of dispute at this time 

were between the Navy and the Air Force over the provision of air transport 

and responsibility for strategic air warfare, an area in which the Navy was 

eager to carve out a role for its carrier air power. A lesser dispute developed between the Army and the Air Force over responsibility for air defense. 

Concerned to resolve these differences between the Air Force and the 

Navy, Secretary of Defense, James Forrestal, called the March 1948 Key 

West conference. The resulting agreement, signed by the President on 21 

April 1948, was intended to provide a definitive, comprehensive statement of 

the “functions of the armed forces and the Joint Chiefs of Staff” which would 

replace that contained in Executive Order 9877. Regarding air support for 

the land forces, the new agreement provided a more detailed breakdown of 

the actual missions involved than Executive Order 9877 had done. Under the 

agreement, close combat and logistical air support to the Army was to include 

air lift, support and re-supply of airborne operations, aerial photography, tactical reconnaissance, and interdiction of enemy land power and communications. As such, the Key West agreement extended the definition of air support to include not only reconnaissance, close air support and air superiority, 

but also logistical air support, support of airborne operations, and interdiction of enemy land power and communications. All of these missions were, 

15 
according to the agreement, the exclusive responsibility of the Air Force.29 

However, expansion of the Army’s organic aviation and the Army’s increasing use of the helicopter were to engender friction with the newly created 

Air Force and encounter obstructions from conservatives within the Army itself.30A key problem was that neither Executive Order 9877 nor the Key West 

Agreement had actually defined what constituted “organic” Army aviation. 

Air Force concern over this issue led to discussions between the two 

services’ chiefs of staff, with the objective of more precisely defi ning the 

roles of Army aviation. The resulting Bradley-Vandenberg Agreement of 

20 May 1949 established the principle Army aviation functions as various surveillance missions in the immediate combat zone, emergency 

medical evacuation and limited aerial re-supply. The agreement also defined certain aviation functions for the support of the Army which were to 

be conducted by the Air Force. While these differed in some detail from 

the Army aviation roles, they were broadly similar in many respects and 

included medical evacuation, aerial supply and aerial photography.31 

Also in the late 1940s, the Air Force and the Army held talks on the establishment of a system for the coordination of joint operations. These talks foundered 

because the Army insisted on a measure of operational control of its supporting 

air assets. This demand was especially unpalatable to the Air Force because it 

contravened the principle of the centralization of airpower assets along with 

the Air Force’s insistence that all such assets should be under Air Force control. 

Army Chief of Staff, General J. Lawton Collins, reiterated his service’s 

view early in the Korean War when he protested the coequal status of the Air 

Force and Army in close air support operations and called for the subordination 

of Air Force aircraft performing such operations to the army and corps commanders. Furthermore, he suggested that the Air Force should provide each 

Army division serving overseas with its own dedicatedfi ghter-bomber group.32 

In Korea itself, in 1950, the Army got to experience the apparent benefits 

of Marine tactical air doctrine at first hand when Marine aircraft provided 

dedicated support to Army units during the defense of the Pusan perimeter 

and the Inchon landings, and Army officers liked what they saw. Drawing 

on this experience, General Edward M. Almond, commanding the Army’s X 

Corps, recommended in December of 1950 and again in July of the following year, that a group of fighter-bombers be allotted to the operational control 

of each Army division. However, in August 1952, Army General Mark Clark 

forbade further Army requests for changes in the existing Air Force system 

on the grounds that it and the Marine systems were designed for different 

circumstances and that adoption of the latter by the Army would be prohibitively expensive for any more than a handful of divisions in the field.33 

16 
Collins had even suggested that Army preferences should be taken into 

account in the development of future aircraft for the close air support role. 

This reflected another fundamental difference of opinion between the Army 

and the Air Force: this time over the nature of tactical aircraft. As we have 

seen, the Air Force held a broad definition of tactical air war which included 

air superiority and interdiction in addition to close air support. In order to 

retain the flexibility offered by centralization and also for budgetary considerations, the Air Force’s preference throughout the 1950s and 1960s was to 

develop multirole, high-performance aircraft that could seize air superiority and then be shifted between the different tactical air support missions. 

This inevitably meant jets, as they offered the additional benefit of increased 

survivability in the ground attack role as a direct result of their high speed. 

However, the acquisition by the Air Force of such jet multirole fi ghterbombers also resulted in some problematic concomitant developments with 

regard to the Army’s immediate aviation concern of close air support. The 

high speed of jet aircraft, which contributed to their survivability during a 

ground attack pass, also reduced the time available for the pilot to visually 

acquire the target, leading to a decline in the accuracy of the attack. Even if 

the pilot wished to fly slower, the relatively high stalling speed of such aircraft 

limited his ability to do so. Jet aircraft also tended to fly higher than the old 

piston-engine fighter-bombers in the interests of fuel economy. This also led 

to poorer target acquisition and, thus, lower accuracy. Fuel economy considerations also militated against the use of jet attack aircraft to perform standing patrols over the battlefield. It was much more fuel-efficient to hold such 

aircraft on runway alert from which they could be scrambled quickly at the 

request of the ground troops, and this, of course, was the way in which the Air 

Force had operated its close air support system since the Second World War. 

Jet bases, however, had to be relatively distant from the battlefi eld because 

of the increasing length of the concrete runways required by the high-performance aircraft of the time. Unfortunately this also reduced reaction time and, 

according to the Army, was detrimental to the morale of ground troops who 

would not have the comfort of knowing that their air support was orbiting 

overhead. Finally, jet, multirole aircraft were expensive, leading to a reduction in the overall number of aircraft available for tactical air support duties. 

Consequently, the Army wanted the Air Force to develop specialized 

aircraft optimized for the close air support role. These dedicated “CAS” aircraft would have quite different attributes to those required for the air superiority and interdiction missions. They would be cheaper and they might 

not even be jets at all. Dedicated CAS aircraft would be slower and fly 

lower than their multirole cousins for better target acquisition and bombing accuracy. They would have good, short take off and landing perfor17 
mance to enable them to operate from rough strips close to the front-line. 

This would produce good reaction times, but the lower overall performance of the aircraft would also result in greater fuel efficiency that would 

enable them to loiter over the battlefield for long periods, if necessary.34 

All versions of AFM1-2 established the principle of the centralization of 

airpower assets at the highest possible level. Never wholeheartedly endorsed by 

the Army, such an arrangement was, however, increasingly unattractive to a service which increasingly came to believe it had been abandoned by the Air Force. 

There was considerable justification in this claim. As we have seen, until 

the eve of the United States’ entry into the Second World War, the principal function of the Army Air Corps had always been the tactical support 

of the Army’s land forces. This was, however, a doctrine forced upon Air 

Corps officers by the Army’s leadership. When, during the Second World 

War, the aviators themselves gained responsibility for generating Army 

Air Forces doctrine then the service’s emphasis had shifted to the strategic air warfare favored by the classical airpower theorists. It is, perhaps, no 

surprise then, that it was a widely held belief within the Army Air Forces 

that its nuclear attacks on Japan represented the ultimate vindication of the 

view of the classical airpower theorists that airpower alone could win wars. 

While the case was less conclusive in Europe, most Army Air Forces officers believed that the strategic bombing campaign against Germany had 

also been one of the most significant factors in the defeat of the Nazis. 

After the Korean War, many Air Force officers felt instinctively that 

attacks by the service’s heavy bombers had been the key factor in forcing 

the Chinese to agree to a truce and that, if suitably unfettered by the politicians, strategic airpower might have produced a decisive victory over the 

communists independently of the stalemate on the ground. Furthermore, 

the nuclear emphasis of the New Look defense review of the Eisenhower administration actively encouraged Air Force concentration on strategic nuclear delivery at the expense of tactical air support. This emphasis on strategic bombing in general, and nuclear attack in particular, is 

reflected in all four versions of AFM1-2 published throughout the 1950s.35 

Even in the specific area of tactical air support, the Army Air Forces’ 

priorities, as reflected in FM 100-20 had moved from close air support to 

air superiority and interdiction, and there were those in the Army who were 

critical of the Air Force’s close air support performance in both the Second World War and Korea.36 Furthermore, in the atmosphere of tight budgets and strategic priorities existing after the Second World War, Tactical 

Air Command had always taken second place to the nuclear-armed Strategic Air Command—only two years after its creation, TAC had lost its independent status and come under the auspices of Continental Air Command. 

18 
Eventually, even those Air Force officers who were supposedly tactical air support specialists—the TAC pilots themselves—seemed to abandon the Army. In 1950, TAC began to adapt its fighter-bombers for the 

carriage of small nuclear weapons, a process that received further stimulus from the Eisenhower administration’s New Look defense policy. After 

1954, the command committed itself to the theater nuclear attack mission.37 

Even if the Korean War did seem, in some ways, to reaffirm the importance of tactical aviation, Secretary of the Air Force Thomas K. Finletter 

announced in 1955 that “the Korean War was a special case and airpower can learn little there about its future role in United States foreign policy in the East.” Thus TAC developed into what Alain C. Enthoven and 

Wayne K. Smith have described as a sort of “junior Strategic Air Command,” a development that was dictated more by intraservice political considerations than by the perceived nature of any potential military threat.38 

Air Force General Gabriel P. Disosway has subsequently said of the period, “nuclear was the popular thing at the time and if TAC was going to get 

anything they had to do it by nuclear, but they went completely overboard.” 

Disosway, later a stern critic of Army air mobility and armed Army aircraft accepts that the Air Force neglected the Army after the Second World War when 

it put all its resources into Strategic Air Command at the expense of TAC and 

that, having rebuilt its tactical air support capability in Korea, repeated the 

error after that war.39 By the late 1950s, Air Force fighter-bomber pilots were 

required to qualify in nuclear bombing techniques, but not in conventional 

bombing, strafing or rocket firing.40 Whatever the reasons for this, the effect 

was to increase Army interest in establishing its own tactical air capabilities. 

This process had been under way since the late 1940s with the bulk of the 

Army’s effort going into the logistics and troop lift support that was to metamorphose into the modern concept of air mobility. Some Army aviation enthusiasts, however, also favored the adoption by the Army of its own close air 

support capability. There had been a number of instances during the Second 

World War in which Army light aircraft had been armed with rifles and bazookas, and at least one Army pilot had fired his .45 caliber pistol from his aircraft 

in anger, but extension and formalization of these ad hoc capabilities was not 

covered by existing offi cial Army doctrine.41 While the delineation of responsibility between the services for air mobility overlapped or was unclear, close 

air support was, unequivocally, an exclusive Air Force mission, a point that 

Secretary of Defense Charles E. Wilson reiterated in a 1956 memorandum.42 

The Army was, therefore, initially cautious about the adoption of organic 

close air support.43 Nevertheless, unofficial theoretical studies and fi eld tests 

of armed Army aircraft proceeded at both the Army Infantry School at Fort 

19 
Benning, Georgia and at its Aviation School at Fort Rucker, Alabama. These 

experiments involved both armed helicopters and armed light aircraft, and two 

Army exercises: ABLE BUSTER and BAKER BUSTER, held in the mid1950s, were designed, in part, to test armed light aircraft in the antitank role.44 

Until the early days of US involvement in the Second World War, the primary role of the Army Air Forces had been the provision of close air support 

to the Army Ground Forces, but wartime experience had downgraded tactical 

air support in favor of strategic air warfare and even within the realm of tactical airpower close air support had slipped to third in a list of priorities which 

placed air superiority and interdiction as more important. The close air support 

system which the Air Force developed as part of its Second World War experience differed from that of the US Marine Corps, in that it placed the ultimate 

responsibility for the deployment of air resources in the hands of the Air Force 

while the Marine system assumed that response to the requests for close air 

support of the ground commanders was the primary responsibility of air power. 

During the 1950s, the Air Force codified a body of basic doctrine based 

on its Second World War experience. This doctrine contributed to an increasing disenchantment within the Army regarding the support it received from 

the Air Force. Increasingly, Army commanders called for a restoration of the 

pre-eminence in the air support relationship with the Air Force that they had 

enjoyed at the beginning of US involvement in the Second World War, and 

for the allocation of dedicated close air support aircraft to Army formations. 

The Air Force continued to deemphasize tactical air support in the 1950s. 

For a time, the Korean War seemed to reassert the importance of close air 

support for the Army, but adoption of the theater nuclear attack mission by 

the Air Force’s Tactical Air Command in the mid-1950s showed that the Air 

Force regarded its Korean experience as anomalous, and stimulated demands 

within the Army for the appropriation of its own armed aircraft. Experiments 

along these lines led to Air Force claims that the Army was attempting to takeover legitimate Air Force roles. A clash was, therefore, inevitable when, in 

Vietnam, the Air Force sought to get back into the tactical airpower business. 

AIRMOBILITY 

One of the principal doctrinal developments of the Vietnam War, 

perhaps the principal doctrinal development of the war, was the United 

States Army’s employment, for the first time in history, of helicopters as 

the primary method of maneuver, supplanting foot or road-vehicle mobility, for large combined-arms formations, a technique known as airmobility. 

Only slowly had the combination of the words “air” and “mobility” acquired this meaning. Back in the 1940s and 1950s, the term “air 

20 
mobility” had simply meant the air transport of troops and supplies 

into the combat zone from some point outside it. Dramatic enough in 

its day, this air mobility was not to be confused with the deeper penetration operational maneuvers performed by airborne parachute and glider 

forces. It did not, originally, imply dedicated airmobile units, or organic fire support and, despite the increasingly frequent use of the term: “air 

assault” neither did it imply opposed landings by airmobile troops.45 

The particular form air mobility was to take in the US armed forces involved 

the employment by the Army of its own “organic” aviation assets, rather than 

those of its sister service: the Air Force. A perpetuation of developments which 

had occurred relatively early in the United States’ participation in the Second 

World War, this arrangement was to be marked by associated interservice dispute. 

The Air Force did not, of course, exist as a separate service during 

the war. At the beginning of the United States’ participation in the conflict, military aviation tasks were conducted by a branch of the Army: the 

Army Air Corps which, as a result of wartime expansion became the Army 

Air Forces. However, on 6 June 1942, the War Department approved the 

provision of organic aviation for the Army’s field artillery branch in order to carry out observation tasks for the guns. Despite Army Air Forces 

opposition to this development, other branches of the Army Ground 

Forces were also to receive their own organic aircraft during the war. 

While the 1947 National Security Act created an independent United 

States Air Force, this did not halt the expansion of Army organic aviation, 

or the Army’s increasing use of the helicopter.46 Also, as we have seen, despite Air Force hopes, the Bradley-Vandenberg Agreement of 20 May 1949 

did not result in the loss of Army aviation roles to the Air Force; rather 

it resulted in the formalization of a duplication of roles between the two 

services, which was likely to remain a source of friction for the future. 

In order to prevent the Army from acquiring more capable aircraft which 

might encroach on roles which the Air Force reserved for itself, the Air 

Force sought, and received, the Army’s acceptance, in the Bradley-Vandenberg Agreement, of weight limitations on Army aircraft. Army fixed-wing 

aircraft were not to exceed 2,500 pounds empty weight while Army helicopters were to be restricted to no more than 4,000 pounds empty weight.47 

Despite the limitations imposed on its aviation assets by the Bradley-Vandenberg Agreement, the Korean War stimulated the Army’s use 

of the helicopter as a means of overcoming some of the diffi culties raised 

by the country’s rugged terrain and poor infrastructure. In fact, the Army 

might have preferred to employ something in between the helicopter and 

the fixed-wing aircraft if a sufficiently developed machine had been avail21 
able. In the early 1950s, such “convertiplanes” appeared to offer more 

potential for Army surveillance and air mobility tasks than helicopters. 

Early US Army helicopters suffered from such serious vibration 

that it was difficult to use field glasses from them and the Army, therefore, preferred to use fixed-wing aircraft for observation duties.48 Consequently, the April 1950 Army Airborne Panel enthusiastically endorsed 

the development of both the heavy-lift helicopter and the convertiplane. 

The heavy-lift helicopter offered the prospect of short-range passage 

of troops and equipment over terrain obstacles, but the convertiplane offered to revolutionize airborne warfare. Its Vertical Take-Off and Landing (VTOL) performance and high forward speed would free airborne 

operations from their dependency on runways and eliminate the problem 

of “scatter” associated with conventional airborne operations.49 Armyfunded research of this type of aircraft led to the experimental Bell XV-3 

tilt rotor which was flown successfully from 1953. However, at the time 

of the Korean War, the helicopter was the only practical VTOL aircraft. 

The war stimulated the expansion of Army aviation with the service requesting both increased numbers of aircraft and aircraft of greater capability 

which invariably meant heavier aircraft. More capable Army aircraft presented a threat to the Air Force because they would have the potential to perform 

a greater variety of tasks. This might result in a natural expansion of Army 

aviation roles and missions which could only come at the expense of the Air 

Force. Was the Army trying to usurp legitimate Air Force roles? In order to 

resolve Air Force fears on this issue, talks took place between the service 

secretaries’ staffs leading to the signing of a memorandum of understanding 

between Air Force Secretary Thomas K. Finletter and Army Secretary Frank 

Pace in October 1951. On the surface, this agreement appeared to be something of a compromise. It satisfied the Army to the extent that it ended weight 

restrictions on the service’s aircraft, but it also seemed to satisfy the Air Force 

by providing a definition of Army aviation roles which appeared quite restrictive. The agreement limited Army aviation to the provision of assistance 

in ground combat and logistics within the combat zone which it defi ned as 

“normally not” in excess of fifty to seventy miles deep, and it insisted that 

the Army not duplicate existing Air Force capabilities in reconnaissance, interdiction, close air support and troop airlift, including “assault transport.”50 

Korea, however, continued to provide the Army with plenty of opportunities 

for the provision of organic air assistance in ground combat within the combat 

zone and Army aviation continued to grow. Between 1951 and 1952 the number 

of Army aircraft rose from 1,721 to 2,392. Within these totals, Army helicopter 

numbers increased from 122 to 284 with larger, heavier, more capable models entering the Army’s inventory, as sanctioned by the October agreement.51 

22 
Further Air Force complaints to the Joint Chiefs of Staff led to another 

round of inter-service discussions resulting in another agreement between 

Pace and Finletter on 4 November 1952. Though this new agreement did 

re-impose a weight limit for fixed-wing Army aircraft, it raised this to 5,000 

pounds, and it left the door open for the further development of Army aircraft 

by including the proviso that the service secretaries could request a review of 

the restrictions in order to keep this limitation realistic in the light of technical developments . . . The technical development of Army helicopters, however, remained completely unhindered by weight limits. The November 1952 

agreement also expanded the Army’s area of air operations to a combat zone 

“normally understood” to be fifty to a hundred miles in depth. Furthermore, 

the provisions of the agreement expressly excluded “convertiplane-type aircraft” which the Army could continue to develop.52 The second Pace-Finletter Agreement, then, effectively sanctioned further incremental expansion of 

Army aviation both in terms of raw aircraft numbers and roles and missions. 

One specific area in which the Army and Air Force clashed over the demarcation of roles between the services was that of air mobility. Noting the 

Army’s increasing interest in this role, the Air Force’s Tactical Air Command 

called, in 1949, for the development of Air Force troop carrying helicopter 

units, but Air Staff interest was low and funds were limited. Consequently, 

little progress was made until the Korean War rekindled Air Force interest in 

the project.53 The Air Force then set about forming such units and, in order 

to do so, it obstructed Army transport helicopter orders for which it bore responsibility under existing interservice arrangements. The Air Force refused 

to fulfill the Army orders until it had purchased like numbers of aircraft with 

which to equip its own assault helicopter squadrons. Therefore, these units 

competed directly with organic Army aviation in terms of both mission and 

equipment. The Army fought back by turning to the Navy and Marine Corps 

as alternative sources for the transport helicopters held up by the Air Force.54 

The controversy continued into the mid-1950s with the Air Force Chief 

of Staff insisting that the helicopter was “just another aircraft’ and that the Air 

Force had every right, therefore, to operate assault aircraft squadrons while 

similar Army units should be disbanded. The Army, however, held the Air 

Force strictly to the letter of the 1952 Pace-Finletter Agreement. This specified that Army aircraft could transport “Army supplies, equipment, and small 

units within the combat zone’ while Air Force troop carrier aircraft were 

limited to the “airlift of Army supplies, equipment, personnel, and units from 

exterior points to points within the combat zone.’55 The Army insisted, therefore, that it had no use for Air Force assault helicopter squadrons within the 

combat zone. In 1956, the Air Force conceded the argument and transferred its 

assault helicopter squadrons to the logistic support of other Air Force units.56 

23 
In retrospect, the Air Force’s acceptance of the second Pace-Finletter 

Agreement, and its abandonment of the assault helicopter squadrons may 

appear surprising. However, contributory factors must surely have been 

the service’s fixation on strategic bombing and its contemporary desire 

to secure a nuclear role for its tactical aircraft.57 In 1946, the Air Force’s 

Commanding General, Carl Spaatz, said that long-range bombers and their 

escorts were the “backbone’ of the service, relegating the Tactical Air Command to a secondary role.58 We already know that the Air Force’s senior 

leadership had never been particularly enthusiastic about the assault helicopter squadrons with their slow ungainly machines. In any case, if the 

Pace-Finletter Agreements upheld the existence of an Army airmobile capability—which they did—then the Army could refuse to use the equivalent 

Air Force squadrons—which it did—leaving them with no practical role. 

Aside from its existing philosophical inclination toward strategic air warfare, the policy of massive retaliation demanded that the Air 

Force place nuclear delivery at center stage. Consequently, TAC’s leaders 

came to realize that if the command were to survive, it, too must adopt a 

nuclear role.59 Limited expansion of Army responsibilities in the immediate combat area, including helicopter “air assault’ may have seemed 

a small price to pay in exchange for a nuclear Tactical Air Command 

whose missions would, in any case, necessarily have less to do with the 

immediate battlefield than those of its conventionally armed forerunner. 

Despite Air Force objections, Army aviation did greatly expand during the Korean War, but its proponents also faced different types of opposition from within their own service. Against the background of the 

rundown of conventional forces caused by the New Look, Army conservatives objected to the deflection of funds, which might have been spent on 

armored forces, to what they regarded as an ineffective technological toy. 

In addition, there were also those Army officers who, in their anxiety to 

preserve the gains made by Army aviation thus far, were reluctant to continue its development beyond certain limits, at least in the short term, lest 

this provoke the Air Force into a response which might threaten the entire 

Army aviation program. This sensitivity was particularly acute regarding 

the thorny issue of armed helicopters which, in Army hands, might be seen 

to contravene the second Pace-Finletter Agreement’s restriction on Army 

duplication of Air Force close air support capabilities.60 Such a development was sure to provoke an angry response from the Air Force. Shortly 

after the Korean War, Colonel Edward L. Rowny, an instructor in infantry 

tactics at the Army Infantry School in Fort Benning, Georgia, conducted a 

series of theory sessions involving the use of armed helicopters. Soon af24 
ter, Rowny was summoned to Washington where he was admonished for 

exacerbating interservice rivalries and ordered to cease the sessions, even 

though he had been careful to run them on a voluntary, off-duty basis only.61 

While Army aviation had been growing since before the end of the 

Second World War, it was the Marine Corps which first produced systematic doctrine for the employment of the new rotary-wing technology. The 

Corps began to study the use of helicopters in response to its observations 

of the CROSSROADS nuclear tests at Bikini Atoll in the Marshall Islands 

in 1946. These indicated that naval forces would be very vulnerable to 

nuclear attack unless widely dispersed, but such dispersal would preclude 

the Marines’ primary mission—amphibious assault—at least by conventional means. The Marines set out to resolve this problem, lest they be left 

without a raison d’etre, and found their answer in the speed and range of 

the helicopter. Marine Commandant, General Alexander A. Vandegrift, 

therefore, ordered the Marine Corps School (MCS) to begin work on establishing doctrine for the use of helicopters in amphibious operations.62 

Led by Colonel Robert E. Hogaboom, the School’s “Helicopter Board’ 

defined the Marines’ assault helicopter as a vehicle capable of lifting 15 to 20 

fully armed marines and, in 1948, prepared a plan for a Marine helicopter wing 

with 240 such aircraft capable of transporting a Marine regimental combat 

team in a single lift. The Marine Corps also established an experimental helicopter squadron, designated HMX-1, to develop helicopter assault doctrine in 

amphibious operations in parallel with the work of the MCS Helicopter Board. 

Unfortunately, no such machine as that envisaged by the Helicopter Board 

existed and HMX-1 at first had to make do with the HO3S-1 which could 

lift no more than two fully equipped Marines, in addition to its pilot. In May 

1948, HMX-1 participated in Exercise PACKARD II when its fi ve HO3S1s simulated the landing of one regimental combat team from the decks of 

the USS Palau, an operation which involved the transport of sixty-six men 

and their equipment in thirty-five fl ights. Thus, Marine airmobility doctrine 

outran the technology required for its fulfillment. This situation was to reoccur in the Army, and though helicopter performance rose steadily throughout 

the 1950s, it was not to be fully resolved until the development of the turbine powered helicopter represented by the UH-1 Iroquois (“Huey’) series. 

Revised in the light of PACKARD II and the availability of the new 

Marine HRP-1 helicopter, which was capable of lifting ten passengers, 

MCS published its helicopter doctrine manual in November 1948 as Amphibious Operations-Employment of Helicopters (Tentative) or amphibious 

operations manual Phib-31. This remained the standard Marine doctrinal 

publication for the tactical use of helicopters throughout the Korean War.63 

25 
Phib-31 was to form the basis for the Marines’ “vertical envelopment’ concept, adopted in February 1951, by which initial Marine assaults are “all 

helicopter’ affairs with the Marines landing to the rear and on the flanks 

of the enemy. The beach is then cleared from the rear and only when it is 

secured do reinforcements and supplies come in by boat “over the beach.’ 

During the Korean War, the Marine Corps quickly established the use 

of the helicopter for observation, liaison and medical evacuation purposes 

and they, again, preceded their Army cousins in making the fi rst tentative 

steps toward combat air mobility. On 13 September 1951, aircraft of Marine 

helicopter squadron HMR-161 carried out the first Marine mass helicopter 

re-supply mission near the Soyang River. In twenty-eight fl ights, HMR-161 

carried 18,848 pounds of supplies and seventy-four Marines over a distance 

of seven miles. In April 1951, HMR-161 conducted the first helicopter lift of 

a combat unit in history when it transported 224 marines to the front line.64 

The Marines also began the process of experimenting with 

armed helicopters as early as 1950, but these arrangements remained informal until the Vietnam War. Until then, the Corps’ priority was the use of the helicopter for airlift of troops and supplies.65 

In April 1954, General James Gavin published an infl uential popular 

article on air mobility, based (as far as security permitted) on a series of 

studies conducted under Gavin’s authority while he was responsible for 

Army planning and operations as Assistant Chief of Staff.66 Here, he suggested that troops mounted in helicopters and assault transports—”sky 

cavalry’—could perform the traditional cavalry roles and provide a flexible reserve of firepower. This combat air mobility differed from the 

mere transportation role by which the term had previously been defined. 

An embryonic “Sky Cav’ organization composed of both ground and 

airmobile elements and derived from these studies, was included in Exercise 

SAGE BRUSH at Gavin’s urging in 1955. On that occasion, the exercise 

evaluators were so critical of the scheme that it was abandoned.67 Thereafter, 

tests of airmobility and armed helicopters proceeded on a limited, unofficial 

basis within the Army.68 Much of this ad hoc experimentation took place at 

Fort Rucker, Alabama which the Army, on 1 February 1955, had established 

as its Aviation Center under Brigadier General Carl Hutton.69 From 1956, 

continuing Aviation Center experiments with Sky Cav turned to formations 

which were completely air mounted and which included armed helicopters. 

Whereas the reality of unsophisticated conventional war in Korea had 

stimulated the expansion of Army aviation and its use of the helicopter, it 

was the threat of the nuclear warfare which stimulated airmobility thinking within the Army in the later 1950s. Army planning for the nuclear bat26 
tlefield was itself stimulated by the “New Look’ defense policy ushered 

in by the incoming Eisenhower administration. This stressed the theoretical deterrent value of “massive retaliation’ and the substitution of nuclear 

weapons for conventional forces as a means of reducing defense expenditure. Thus, if the Army was to retain a role and, therefore, a slice of future defense budgets, it must demonstrate an ability to operate on a battlefield in which both it, and its enemies, employed tactical nuclear weapons. 

Consequently, in 1956, the Army instituted its “Pentomic” (for pentagonal-atomic) reorganization by which its divisions were divided into fi ve task 

forces, supposedly able to operate independently when dispersed due to the 

threat of nuclear attack against concentrated targets. Army aviation proponents 

were quick to conclude that the helicopter provided considerable potential for 

rapid dispersal when faced with such a threat and also the capability for rapid 

concentration to exploit the effects of the US Army’s own nuclear fi repower. 

The budgetary squeeze of the New Look, the ongoing expansion of Army 

aviation and the development of new weapons continued to create friction 

within the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Department of Defense over service 

roles and missions. This prompted Secretary of Defense, Charles E. Wilson, 

on 26 November 1956, to issue a memorandum on the “Clarification of Roles 

and Missions to Improve the Effectiveness of Operation of the Department of 

Defense.’ In this memorandum, Wilson limited Army aviation to four roles: 

observation, airlift, medical evacuation and liaison. The memorandum specifically forbade Army aircraft from providing close air support and specifically 

limited the Army’s airlift role to application “only to small combat units and 

limited quantities of material to improve local mobility, and not to the provision of an airlift capability sufficient for the large-scale movement of sizable 

Army combat units which would infringe on the mission of the Air Force.’70 

The Secretary re-imposed an empty weight restriction on Army helicopters at a maximum of 20,000 pounds and reiterated the 5,000 pounds 

weight limit for fixed-wing aircraft, a category in which he now included 

convertiplanes and VSTOL types. As usual, the Secretary saw fi t to redefine the parameters of the combat zone as extending one hundred miles 

forward and one hundred miles to the rear of the front line, and he also 

resolved an ongoing dispute between the Army and the Air Force over 

intermediate range ballistic missiles by assigning their operational employment to the latter service and to the Navy for ship-based variants.71 

The limitations imposed on the Army by the 1956 Wilson memorandum 

were later to be criticized by the then Army Chief of Staff, General Maxwell 

Taylor, who blamed the Air Force for recruiting the Secretary in its “resistance’ 

to legitimate Army efforts to escape from its “dependence’ on the former ser27 
vice.72 Testifying before Congress in 1958, General Gavin argued also that 

strict interpretation of the Wilson memorandum would be both ineffi cient and 

distort the manner in which the Army carried out its aviation roles. According 

to Gavin, even the limited airlift mission permitted the Army could not effectively be fulfi lled with fixed-wing aircraft of less than 5,000 pounds empty 

weight. Therefore, these tasks would have to be performed by helicopters 

which were more complex and expensive than equivalent fi xed-wing aircraft.73 

This was probably correct, as far as it went; however, the 1956 memorandum, or at least its outcomes, may have proved more accommodating to the 

Army than Gavin thought. In the first place, the secretary had doubled the area 

for which the Army might justifiably claim primary authority. Evidence that 

the Army would actually be permitted to exercise this authority was provided 

elsewhere in the memorandum where Wilson granted the Army exclusive responsibility for the development of tactical surface-to-surface missiles whose 

range did not exceed the depth of the combat zone—that is two hundred miles. 

Furthermore, while a weight limitation was re-imposed on Army helicopters, placing a theoretical cap on their capabilities, the new authorized 

maximum weight was five times that established by the Bradley-Vandenberg Agreement of May 1949. Given that the Air Force was less enthusiastic about helicopters than fixed-wing aircraft, this part of the agreement 

might be seen as a classic compromise, permitting Army aviation development where it would least upset the Air Force, while placing severe limitations on Army fixed-wing aircraft, about which the Air Force was more 

concerned. This may not have been the perfect arrangement for the Army, 

but it did leave the way clear for further Army aviation development, and 

something like this formula would re-emerge in the 1966 McConnel-Johnson Agreement during the Vietnam War. In any case, the weight limitations in the 1956 Wilson memorandum were not always strictly applied. 

Even the loss of the IRBM may have been, in one respect a gain for Army 

airmobility. Experience with airborne forces in the Second World War alerted 

the Army to the vulnerability of its all-wooden gliders. The Army, therefore, 

developed the XCG-20 all metal glider. This metamorphosed into the C-122 

powered “assault transport’ which had the advantage of not requiring a tug 

aircraft to tow it, and its payload, into battle.74 Further refinements led to the 

C-123 Provider. However, as part of the agreement creating the independent 

Air Force, the Army had to buy its aircraft through the former service. General 

Gavin has claimed that the Air Force, having no requirement of its own for an 

assault transport, over-developed the C-123 into a replacement for its C-119 

Flying Boxcar, considerably increasing its weight in the process.75 The resulting aircraft was unsuitable for the small, minimally prepared air strips from 

28 
which the Army intended it to operate. According to the Air Force, however, 

the C-123s were transferred to logistic roles in support of Air Force strike aircraft because, in joint exercises, they were found to be too vulnerable in combat.76 The Army decided, therefore, to purchase the already developed DHC4 Caribou STOL transport aircraft from De Havilland Aircraft of Canada. 

As a sweetener for his controversial IRBM decision, Secretary Wilson 

acceded to a request by the Army Chief of Staff for Army procurement of the 

DHC-4 which, at approximately 17,000 pounds empty weight, far exceeded 

Wilson’s own limit for Army fixed-wing aircraft. However, in his 1956 Roles 

and Missions memorandum, the Secretary specifically reserved for himself 

the right to make such exemptions and mentioned the DHC-4 as an example.77 Army operation of the DHC-4-which it re-designated CV-2-was to 

prove as controversial in the 1960s as had the IRBM issue in the 1950s. The 

dispute between the Army and the Air Force over the former service’s operation of the CV-2 in Vietnam was to result in the 1966 decision by which the 

Army renounced its CV-2s to the Air Force (where they were again re-designated as C-7s) in return for the Army’s retention of the Armed helicopter. 

Following his resignation in 1958 over what he believed to be the 

Army’s lack of preparedness for limited war, General Gavin gave his 

thoughts a further public airing in his book, War and Peace in the Space 

Age. Here he explained that the Army had learned precisely the opposite 

lessons from the Second World War to those absorbed by the Air Force. 

According to Gavin, the war’s strategic bombing campaigns had shown 

the classical airpower theorists like Giulio Douhet and Billy Mitchell to be in error. Airpower, said Gavin, was not the ultimate weapon. Its 

real importance lay in the mobility and firepower it offered to the Army. 

The Air Force, however, remained obsessed with strategic bombing, 

particularly the delivery of nuclear weapons. For Gavin, the very creation 

of an independent air force—one of the classical airpower theorists’ central 

themes—was perhaps an error in itself. If the Second World War showed the 

importance of army-air cooperation, then had not the services separated “at 

the very time when they should have been becoming more closely associated?’ 

Gavin also pointed out that the Marine Corps had held on to its own aircraft.78 

Another of the principal figures in the development of Army airmobility 

was Colonel—later General—Robert R. Williams. As Chief of the Air Mobility Division of the Army’s Office of the Chief of Research and Development 

between 1959 and 1961, Williams recommended that the Army establish a systematic plan for its future aircraft requirements.79 Army Chief of Staff General Lyman Lemnitzer approved and instituted an Army Aircraft Requirements 

Review Board under Lieutenant General Gordon Rogers which convened in 

April 1960. One of the Board’s members was General Hamilton H. Howze. 

29 
Late in 1954, General Gavin had appointed Howze as Head of the 

Army’s Aviation Office in the Department of Defense. This title was later changed to Director of Army Aviation. In this role, Howze presided 

over the development of the UH-1 helicopter which was to provide the 

backbone of Army airmobility assets in the 1960s. Developed on the behalf of the Army by the Air Force, the UH-1 program only narrowly escaped cancellation by the latter service when technical problems with 

the rotor blades emerged. After Army protests, the Air Force agreed to 

persevere with the project and the technical difficulties were resolved.80 

In 1957, towards the end of his tour at the Pentagon, Howze conducted a series of studies based on map exercises drawn from the Command 

and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth and the Infantry School at 

Fort Benning. Varying the forces of one side with the addition of organic aircraft, Howze proved, to his own satisfaction, that in a lot of the exercises “airmobile infantry with small air cavalry attachments could . . . 

[get] the job done with smaller forces, at less cost and . . . more quickly . 

. . “81 Howze presented his findings to Army Chief of Staff, General Taylor; Secretary of Defense Wilson and the Secretary of the Army, arguing 

that the addition of airmobile forces to the Army “would provide new and 

exceptionally valuable capabilities,’ though he was careful not to claim 

that non-airmobile forces would become obsolete as a consequence.82 

As a member of the Rogers Board, Howze continued his proselytizing 

with the insertion into the Board’s report of an addendum entitled “The Requirement for Air Fighting Units.’ Here, he called for the creation of “air 

fighting units . . . which may be called air cavalry,’ as opposed to the simple 

augmentation of ground formations with more aircraft for the purpose of 

increasing their mobility. Such units would employ their own aircraft in the 

direct fire support role and would “find particular applicability in any battle 

area in which the threat of area weapons forces wide dispersion . . . as well 

as in “brush fire’’ actions against relatively unsophisticated opponents.’83 

Whereas, during much of the 1950s, Army aviation enthusiasts had regarded airmobility as a panacea for the nuclear battlefield, Howze’s reference to 

“brush fire’ wars reflected an increasing interest among them in the application 

of the concept to low-intensity conflict. This was to be endorsed and fostered 

by the Kennedy administration with the greater emphasis on conventional 

forces and counterinsurgency contained within its “flexible response’ policy. 

Army aviation proponents surmised that airmobility would be particularly applicable to counterinsurgency operations. It would restore 

mobility to the security forces in the kind of rough terrain in which insurgencies thrived; it would enable them to patrol large areas and, hav30 
ing found the enemy, it would facilitate the rapid concentration of 

forces required for local superiority. As such, it would serve as a forcemultiplier, perhaps reducing the theoretical ten-to-one ratio of security 

forces to insurgents dictated by traditional counterinsurgency practice. 

The Kennedy defense review led to the so-called ROAD (Reorganization Objectives Army Division) reorganization of the Army’s Divisions 

which took place between January 1961 and July 1962. ROAD divisions 

abandoned the pentomic structure in favor of a more traditional three brigade task forces formation. As part of the reorganization, drawing on the 

Army Aviation Center’s airmobility experiments, Army Chief of Staff, 

General George Decker, took the opportunity to include Sky Cav, now renamed “Air Cavalry’ troops in the Armoured Cavalry Squadrons of each 

ROAD division. These units included armed helicopters and were the first 

airmobile units in the Army’s order of battle, but while they did have a real 

combat role, these limited reconnaissance and screening forces did not 

constitute fully fledged airmobility in the sense that we now understand it. 

The development of airmobility up to 1962 was beset by a rivalry 

between the Air Force and the Army, the origins of which, predated the 

1947 National Security Act. That act invited further interservice dispute 

because its definitions of the individual services’ aviation roles and missions were inadequate. Successive efforts to specify, defi nitively, service 

aviation roles and missions never adequately resolved the areas of disagreement and, in some cases, may actually have exacerbated them. Most 

importantly, they never did eliminate the main irritant to the Air Force 

—the continued and seemingly remorseless expansion of Army aviation. 

The weight limitations placed on Army aircraft within the service agreements were certainly arbitrary, but contrary to Gavin’s opinion, they do not 

seem to have greatly distorted the form of Army airmobility in that they 

were, in the main, subject to possible exemptions of which the Army did 

take advantage. In addition to his waiver of the weight restrictions on the CV2, Secretary Wilson also acceded to a request by General Howze, when he 

was Director of Aviation, to procure the OV-1 Mohawk which weighed in at 

12,000 pounds gross.84 The OV-1 was originally developed for the Marines 

Corps. In the late 1950s, the Army was able to convince Wilson that if the Marines, despite their having jets, required a STOL, turboprop, surveillance aircraft then the Army probably needed one, too.85 The development of VSTOL 

technology—particularly that of the helicopter—offered great opportunities 

to the services, but because of its novelty and the inadequacy of the interservice agreements it also offered fertile ground for further interservice dispute. 

31 
The original pioneers of airmobility were the Marines, but airmobility doctrine was perfected by the Army. Some conservatives within the Army leadership opposed airmobility, but it did have a number of friends in high places 

who were able to use their offices to foster its development. Signifi cantly, the 

most important among these general officers like Gavin, Taylor and Howze 

all had pedigrees within the Army’s airborne arm. Under their sponsorship, a 

considerable body of airmobile doctrine was added to that generated within 

the Marine Corps, and the concept received positive stimulus from Korea, 

the nuclear battlefield and developing Army interest in counterinsurgency. 

Both Army and Marine airmobile doctrine outran the technical means 

to realize its full potential, and the technology can not really be said to have 

caught-up with the doctrine until the development of the turbine-powered 

helicopter. The ripening of this technology roughly coincided with the Army’s adoption of air cavalry and the beginning of its efforts to explore the 

possibility of large, combined arms, dedicated, airmobile formations. The 

first such unit formed was the 11th Air Assault Division (provisional) which, 

as the 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile) was the first Army combat unit to 

deploy to South Vietnam in 1965. The 11th Air Assault Division (Provisional) was an experimental division designed to test the airmobile procedures 

developed by the 1962 Army Tactical Mobility Requirements Board, more 

commonly known as the “Howze Board.’ The Howze Board generated a 

comprehensive vision of airmobility that the US Army was to implement 

for the first time in South Vietnam. This vision was so extensive that it represented a direct threat to formally established US Air Force roles and missions. It is to the origins of the Board, and its deliberations that we now turn. 

32 
Notes 

1. Department of Defense Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms 

(2003), www.dtic.mil/doctrine/jel/doddict/, 21 August 2003. 

2. William W. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars (New York, 1980), 40. 

3. Ibid., p. 41. 

4. Ibid., p. 44. 

5. David Syrette, The Tunisian Campaign, 1942-1943, Benjamin F. Cooling 

(ed.), Case Studies in the Development of Close Air Support (Washington, DC: 

Office of Air Force History), 172-174. 

6. David P. Handel, “The Evolution of United States Air Force Basic Doctrine.” Unpublished Research Study (Maxwell AFB, AL: Air University, 1978), 

34. 

7. Richard G. Davis, The 31 Initiatives: A Study in Air Force—Army Cooperation (Washington, DC: Office of Air Force History, 1987), 8. Kurt A. 

Chichowski, “Doctrine Matures Through a Storm: An Analysis of the New Air 

Force Manual 1-1” thesis (School of Advanced Airpower Studies, Air University, Maxwell AFB, AL, 1993), 8 & Syrette, op cit., pp. 184-5. 

8. Momyer, op cit., 50. 

9. Forest C. Pogue, The Supreme Command, United States Army in World 

War II, The European Theater of Operations (Washington, DC: Office of the 

Chief of Military History, 1954), 62, 123 & 396. 

10. National Security Act, 26 July 1947, Richard I Wolf, The United States Air 

Force, Basic Documents on Roles and Missions (Washington, DC: Office of Air 

Force History, 1987), 61-83. 

11. Robert F. Futrell, The United States Air Force in Korea, 1950-1953 (New 

York, 1961), 43-4. 

12. Momyer, op cit., 57-59. 

13. Ibid., 59-62. 

14. Handel, op cit., 37-40. 

15. United States Air Force Basic Doctrine, (Washington, DC, 1 December 

1959) (Hereinafter cited as AFM1-2, 1959), 7. 

16. Ibid., 6-7. 

17. This follows an argument in the British official history. Michael Howard, 

History of the Second World War, Grand Strategy, Vol. IV, August 1942-September 1943 (London, 1972). 

18. Edward Luttwak, The Pentagon and the Art of War (New York, 1985), 24­

27, 43, 86 & 272. 

19. James Forrestal, “Functions of the Armed Forces and the Joint Chiefs of 

Staff” [The Key West Agreement]), (21 April 1948), Wolf, op cit., 154-166. 

20. James L. Cate, “Development of United States Air Doctrine, 1917-1941,” 

Eugene M. Emme (ed.), The Impact of Air Power, National Security and World 

Politics (Princeton, 1959), 187-189. 

33 
21. Ibid., 190. 

22. Handel, op cit., 52-53. 

23. Special Subcommittee on Close Air Support of the Preparedness Investigating Subcommittee of the Committee on Armed Services, United States Senate, 

“Report on Close Air Support’ (Washington, DC, 1972), 15. 

24. Handel, op cit., 34-35. 

25. Davis, op cit., 8. 

26. Futrell, op cit., 659-60. 

27. National Security Act, 1947, Wolf, op cit., 63-83. 

28. Executive Order 9877, “Functions of the Armed Force” (26 July 1947), 

Wolf, op cit. 87-90. 

29. “The Key West Agreement,” Wolf, op cit., 154-166. 

30. James M. Gavin, War and Peace in the Space Age (New York, 1958), 109. 

31. Christopher C.S. Cheng, Air Mobility: The Development of a Doctrine 

(Westport, CT., 1994), 19-20. 

32. Davis, op cit., 10-11. 

33. Futrell, op cit., 660-1. 

34. J. Hunter Reinburg, “Close Air Support,” Congressional Record (17 May 

1962), A3712-3713. 

35. Ibid., 16-19; Handel, op cit., 37-40; AFM1-2 (1959), 7-8 & 13 & see also 

Chichowski, op cit. 

36. Edwin L. Powell, BG., Interview, Senior Officer Oral History Program, US 

Army Military History Institute (hereinafter referred to as MHI), Carlisle Barracks, PA. (1978), tape 1, transcript 50. 

37. Ibid., tape 1, transcript, 32. 

38. Harold K. Johnson, Gen, Interview, Senior Officer Oral History Program, 

MHI, 1972-3, Vol. II, tape 8, interview 8, transcript, 36; Earl H. Tilford, Setup: 

What the Air Force Did in Vietnam and Why (Maxwell AFB, AL, 1991), 32-33 

& Alain C. Enthoven & Wayne K. Smith, How Much is Enough? Shaping the 

Defense Program, 1961-1969 (New York, 1972), 9. 

39. Gabriel P. Disosway, Gen, USAF, Interview, US Air Force Oral History 

Program, Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, AL, 1977, pp. 

196-197 & Caroline F. Ziemke, “In the Shadow of the Giant: USAF Tactical 

Air Command in the Era of Strategic Bombing, 1945-1955,” Unpublished PhD. 

thesis (The Ohio State University, 1989), 302. 

40. Disosway, op cit., 246-247 & Tilford, op cit., 36. 

41. Delbert Bristol, Col, Interview, Senior Officer Oral History Program, MHI, 

Carlisle, PA, 1978, tape 1, transcript, 12-13. 

42. Memorandum by the Secretary of Defense for the Members of the Armed 

Forces Policy Council, Subject: “Clarification of Roles and Missions to Improve 

the Effectiveness of Operation of the Department of Defense,” 26 November 

1956, Wolf, op cit., 293-301. 

43. Edward L. Rowny, It Takes One to Tango (Washington, DC, 1992), 15-16. 

44. Davis, op cit., 13. 

45. In fact the term “air assault’ is still customary for airmobile operations, 

34 
whether opposed or not. 

46. Gavin, War and Peace in the Space Age, 109. 

47. Cheng, op cit., 19-20 & Wolf, op cit., 237. 

48. Bristol, op cit., tape 1, transcript, 14. 

49. Cheng, op cit., 33-34. 

50. Memorandum of Understanding between the Secretary of the Army and the 

Secretary of the Air Force, 2 October 1951, Wolf, op cit., 237-240. 

51. Davis, op cit., 23. 

52. Memorandum of Understanding Relating to Army Organic Aviation 

between Secretary of the Army Frank Pace Jr. & Secretary of the Air Force 

Thomas K. Finletter (hereafter cited as “Pace-Finletter Agreement,” 4 November 

1952, Wolf, op cit., 243-245. 

53. Ray L. Bowers, The United States Air Force in Southeast Asia, Tactical 

Airlift (Washington, DC: Office of Air Force History, 1983), 29. 

54. Bristol, op cit., tape 1, transcript 22-23. 

55. Pace-Finletter Agreement, 4 November 1952, Wolf, op cit., 243-244. 

56. Bowers, op cit., 30. 

57. Wolf, op cit., 241. 

58. Tilford, op cit, 8-9 

59. Ziemke, op cit., 302. 

60. Pace-Finletter Agreement, 4 November 1952, Wolf, op cit., 243. 

61. Ironically, Rowny’s extracurricular activities were brought to the attention of the Army Chief of Staff by Army reserve Captain, Congressman Henry 

Jackson (WA) who, having attended one of the sessions, was so impressed that 

he wanted Rowny’s ideas established as Army doctrine. Rowny, op cit., 15-16. 

62. Kenneth J. Clifford, Progress and Purpose: A Developmental History of the 

United States Marine Corps, 1900-1970 (Washington, DC, History and Museums Division, Head Quarters United States Marine Corps, 1973), 71-72. 

63. Ibid., 73-7 & 84. 

64. Ibid., 82-83. 

65. Ibid., 104. 

66. John J. Tolson, Vietnam Studies, Airmobility (Washington DC, Department 

of the Army, 1973), 4. 

67. Vincent Demma, “War Gaming and Simulation in the Development of the 

11th Air Assault Division” (Washington DC, US Army Center of Military History [hereinafter referred to as CMH] Information Paper, 1992), 4. 

68. Frederic A. Bergerson, The Army Gets an Air Force: Tactics of Insurgent 

Bureaucratic Politics (Baltimore, 1980), 72-78. 

69. Hamilton H. Howze, The Howze Board, Army (February 1974), 12. 

70. Clarification of Roles and Missions, 26 November 1956, Wolf, op cit., 296­

297. 

71. Ibid., pp. 295-300. Doubt was cast on the Air Force’s exclusive responsibility for the delivery of United States’ strategic nuclear weapons by the development of ballistic missile technology. For a time, both the Army and the Air Force 

worked on their own strategic missile systems until the Wilson memo served 

35 
notice on the Army team, led by Wernher Von Braun, at Huntsville, Alabama. 

Von Braun’s team remained intact and became the research organisation which 

developed the boosters for the American Apollo moon shot program of the 

1960s and 1970s. 

72. Cheng, op cit., 106. 

73. Ibid., 107. 

74. Ibid., 142, n. 87. 

75. Gavin, 109-111. 

76. Bowers, op cit., 29. 

77. Clarification of Roles and Missions to Improve the Effectiveness of Operation of the Department of Defense, 26 November 1956, Wolf, op cit., 295-296. 

78. Gavin wrote a still earlier article entitled “The Future of Armor” (1947) in 

which he argued that armour must be lightened to permit its transportation into 

battle by air. James M. Gavin, “Cavalry and I Don’t Mean Horses,” Harpers 

(April 1954), 54-60 & War and Peace in the Space Age, 100. 

79. Bristol, op cit., tape 1, transcript, 49. 

80. Hamilton H. Howze, A Cavalryman’s Story: Memoirs of a Twentieth Century Army General (Washington, DC, 1996), 192-193. 

81. Howze, “The Howze Board,” 13. 

82. Howze, A Cavalryman’s Story, 185-186. 

83. Howze, “The Howze Board,” 14. 

84. Howze, A Cavalryman’s Story, 185. 

85. Howze, “The Howze Board,” 12. 

36 
CHAPTER 2 

COMPETING VISIONS OF AIRMOBILITY: 

THE HOWZE AND DISOSWAY REPORTS OF 1962 

The Army should proceed vigorously and at once in 

the development of fighting units (which may be called 

air cavalry) whose mode of tactical employment will 

take maximum advantage of the unique mobility and 

flexibility of light aircraft—aircraft which will be 

employed to provide, for the execution of the missions 

assigned these units, not only mobility for the relatively 

few riflemen and machine gunners, but also direct fire 

support, artillery and missile fire adjustment, command, 

communications, security, reconnaissance, and supply.1 

As we saw in the previous chapter, a number of aviation enthusiasts 

within the United States Army were able to build up a considerable body of 

airmobile doctrine during the 1950s, despite the lack of commitment of many 

of their service colleagues, and the existence of an associated interservice 

dispute with the Air Force. In the early 1960s, some of these same Army 

officers found the opportunity both to promote and perfect a vision of 

airmobility to the point where it was ready for battlefield application. Field 

tests, war games and operational studies of an Army airmobility concept 

suggested that the new techniques had application across much of the 

spectrum of military activity in which the service might become involved, 

but airmobility seemed to offer particular advantages on the low-intensity, 

counterinsurgency battlefield with which the Army might have to contend 

in Vietnam or Laos. Army airmobility proponents were not slow to exploit 

this counterinsurgency connection as a means of securing the support of the 

Kennedy administration for their own plans. 

Always the subject of hostility from the Air Force, the crystallization 

of the Army’s thoughts on airmobility forced the Air Force to respond with 

its own alternative airmobility concept. Ultimately, the Army’s version 

won through over that of the Air Force, but the realization of the full Army 

airmobility vision, as foreseen by its advocates within the service, proved 

too rich for Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara’s blood and only a 

limited “immobilization” of the service’s table of organization took place. 

Nevertheless, airmobility was to have a dramatic effect on the manner of the 

US Army’s prosecution of its war in Southeast Asia, where it continued to be 

a source of dispute with the Air Force. 

37 
THE HOWZE BOARD 

In 1960, the Army Aircraft Requirements Review—or Rogers—Board 

called for a considerable increase in Army airlift capability to supplement 

ground transportation, but it did not recommend the Army’s wholesale 

adoption of airmobility as we now understand the concept. Indeed, this would 

have been beyond the board’s purview, but its report did include Lieutenant 

General Hamilton H. Howze’s memorandum on “The Requirement for Air 

Fighting Units,” and it did recommend the preparation of an associated study 

on the practicality of such units and whether an experimental unit should be 

established to test the concept.2 

The following year, as part of a general survey of military spending, 

McNamara’s Department of Defense instituted a review of the Army’s 

aviation plans.3 As part of this process, the Army submitted studies of its 

entire aviation program and its specific plans for the Fiscal Year 1963 budget 

to the Office of the Secretary of Defense.4

 The Office of the Secretary of 

Defense ordered Colonel Robert R. Williams, then a staff officer in the 

Office of the Assistant Director (Tactical Weapons), Office of the Director 

of Defense Research and Engineering, US Army Element of the Offi ce of 

the Secretary of Defense, to prepare a response from the Secretary to the 

Army’s studies.5 The reader will recall that Williams’s previous assignment 

had been as Chief of the Air Mobility Division of the Army’s Office of the 

Chief of Research and Development and that Williams himself had initiated 

the establishment of the Rogers Board on which he served as secretary. An 

Army pilot, Colonel Williams had also been the fi rst President of the Army 

Aviation Board between 1955 and 1958. 

Williams concluded that the service had not established a “coherent” 

rationale behind its aircraft procurement plans; therefore, these plans were 

not based on the Army’s real needs since the Army did not actually know 

what these were. In the process of preparing his response to the Army’s 

studies, Williams consulted with “certain people” on the Army General 

Staff, including Lieutenant General Arthur G. Trudeau who, as Army 

Chief of Research and Development, had previously been Williams’s 

boss. At the conclusion of his tour at the Pentagon, Williams passed on to 

his replacement in the Office of the Secretary of Defense, Colonel Edwin 

L. Powell, the task of completing the draft response to the Army’s studies. 

On his departure from the Pentagon for the US Army Aviation Center at Fort 

Rucker, Alabama, Williams insisted to Colonel Powell that the form finally 

selected by the Secretary of Defense be the “right thing,” that is one that 

would encourage the development of Army airmobility.6 

38 
The approval of these “certain” senior Army officers should not be 

construed as evidence of a commitment at the highest levels to airmobility. 

Most of the Army was, in fact, opposed to its development on the grounds 

that precious resources were more urgently needed elsewhere, and there 

was considerable skepticism in the Army as to whether airmobility— 

dependent as it was on the fragile helicopter—could work in practice.7 

Williams and Powell were Army aviation proponents. As such, they were 

members of an insignificant minority within an Army whose leadership was 

dedicated to the kind of mechanized warfare that had brought it so much 

glory in the European theater at the end of the Second World War. In 1962, 

they found themselves in uniquely influential positions where they were able 

to realize their own minority views through the medium of the Secretary of 

Defense himself. 

Williams and Powell prepared two memoranda from Secretary 

McNamara to Secretary of the Army Elvis J. Stahr Jr., one formal and 

the other a more “personal” note. In these two “airmobility memoranda,” 

Williams and Powell proposed the establishment of another Army board 

to assess the potential of aviation for the service and identify any new 

formations and aircraft required for the realization of airmobility in the 

light of the new opportunities offered by advances in aircraft technology. In 

particular, they suggested that aircraft offered the Army considerable increases 

in tactical mobility, but, significantly, they also referred to the use of aircraft as 

“weapons platforms.” Williams and Powell asked whether new vertical takeoff and landing (V/TOL) or short take-off and landing (STOL) fixed-wing 

aircraft designs might constitute cheaper alternatives to helicopters and they 

also suggested that, “Consideration should be given to completely air-mobile 

infantry, antitank, reconnaissance, and artillery units.” As a starting point, 

the Army should use existing unimplemented studies of airmobile divisions 

and their subordinate units including “aerial artillery,” but this time “bold 

new ideas . . . [must] be protected from veto or dilution by conservative staff 

review.”8 Aware that costs were never far from McNamara’s mind, Williams 

and Powell also asserted that the Army’s adoption of airmobility would go 

hand-in-hand with a reduction in less efficient ground transport resulting in 

no net increase in expenditure. They even went so far as to recommend to 

the Secretary specifi c officers and civilians to sit on the proposed board, to 

be led by General Howze, then commanding the XVIII Airborne Corps at 

Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Another Army pilot, Howze was, as we have 

seen, also a long-time Army aviation enthusiast. He had been Director of 

Army Aviation between 1954 and 1957 and he had also been a member of 

the Rogers Board. On 19 April 1962, under his own signature, McNamara 

passed the two airmobility memoranda, as prepared by Williams and Powell, 

to Secretary of the Army Elvis J. Stahr Jr. 

39 
That McNamara did not originate the memoranda that stimulated the 

formal introduction of airmobility into the US Army, and which bear his 

name, should not surprise us. It is, of course, perfectly natural that in a 

complex bureaucracy like the Department of Defense, the Secretary should 

delegate authority to members of his staff. It is equally understandable 

that one of the roles of the Office of the Secretary of Defense should be to 

formulate policy options for acceptance or rejection by the Secretary, and 

that this responsibility should extend to the actual drafting of policy initiative 

memoranda. The significance of these particular policy proposals lay in 

the fact that they represented the views of the members of one particularly 

zealous faction within just one of the armed services. 

Williams and Powell were part of an Army aviation brotherhood whose 

views were not necessarily shared by the Army’s more conservative leaders. 

They put forward proposals that conformed to their own special project for 

Army aviation and those proposals obviously found favor with the Secretary 

of Defense himself. They appealed to McNamara because they offered 

the prospect of increased efficiency in terms of a more mobile Army with 

only a slight increase, or perhaps even no increase, in overall costs. This 

was attractive in terms of both the conventional, and the nuclear battlefield 

where increased Army mobility offered the prospect of easy dispersal from 

the threat of enemy nuclear firepower. McNamara, therefore, adhered to the 

airmobility memoranda format put forward by Williams and Powell, one that 

was designed to override any conservative inertia within the Army’s senior 

leadership. 

Indeed, the results of the proposed Army study were presupposed by 

the final paragraph of McNamara’s “personal memo” to Secretary Stahr: 

“I should be disappointed if the Army’s re-examination merely produces 

logistics-oriented recommendations to procure more of the same, rather than 

a plan for implementing fresh and perhaps unorthodox concepts which will 

give us a significant increase in mobility.” The Army must produce a more 

radical vision based on airmobility and, at the urging of Williams and Powell, 

McNamara pressed an airmobility board membership on the Army composed 

largely of Army aviation or airborne officers predisposed to finding in favor 

of the airmobility concept.9 

The Army rose to the occasion by establishing a Tactical Mobility 

Requirements Board, under Howze’s chairmanship, to explore the new 

opportunities offered to the Army by aircraft. On 20 August 1962, the Howze 

Board submitted a report that fully lived up to the expectations implied by 

McNamara’s memos. 

Until the time of McNamara’s memoranda airmobility doctrine in the 

Army had outrun the technology required to realize it, but by 1962, airmobility 

40 
was an idea whose technological time had come with the introduction of 

the turbine powered UH-1 (Huey) series helicopter into the Army inventory; 

new technologies like vectored thrust and tilting rotors offered even greater 

possibilities for the future. It might be said, therefore, that technology was 

driving the development of airmobility. However, there seems no doubt that 

airmobility’s proponents within the Army sincerely believed that the concept 

would generate great improvements in military effi ciency. The development 

of airmobility cannot, therefore, be said to be the application of technology 

for technology’s sake. 

In order to produce its report, the Howze Board conducted a series of field 

tests and war games comparing formations equipped with organic aircraft 

against conventional infantry and mechanized divisions in counterinsurgency 

operations in Southeast Asia, unsophisticated conventional warfare in the 

Middle East and Southeast Asia, and sophisticated non-nuclear war in Europe 

and Korea. Approximately forty tests took place over an eleven-week period 

at Fort Bragg, for which 150 Army aircraft were assembled plus, for one 

week, sixteen Air Force C-130 Hercules transports. Elements of the 82nd 

Airborne Division provided the necessary ground troops. 

Largest of the field tests were three exercises in which Army aircraft 

were substituted for ground vehicles. These emphasized warfare in East Asia 

and in particular low-intensity warfare in Southeast Asia. The first of these 

exercises, STEW-62, re-enacted a situation from the First Indochina War 

with the movement of an airmobile task force two hundred miles from Fort 

Bragg to the swamps of Georgia. This utilized Air Force aircraft to place the 

Army units in a position from which they could mount an “airmobile assault” 

against an irregular enemy. KILL QUICK-62 took place in the Appalachian 

Mountains and simulated counterinsurgency operations in Laos. PUSAN62 re-enacted some regiment-size operations from the 1950 defense of the 

Pusan perimeter during the Korean War.10 

The Board employed eight different war games, set in Western Europe, 

Southeast Asia, the Middle East and North East Asia, fi rst simulating 

conventional organizations and then repeating the exercises with airmobile 

units. The Board did not, however, consider the gaming definitive and believed 

that they should continue after the preparation of the Board’s report.11 

In addition to the tests and war games conducted in the United States, a 

team of representatives from the Howze Board visited Vietnam between 30 

June and 7 July. The team came to believe that airmobility offered solutions 

to a number of the tactical and logistical difficulties presented by the war in 

Vietnam and recommended the employment of three air assault divisions 

there.12 

41 
According to the Board’s analysis, airmobile units would enjoy 

considerable advantages over conventional units on account of their 

maneuverability and firepower, with the greatest advantages accruing in the 

unsophisticated conventional environment, followed by the counterinsurgency 

environment. The new formations were likely to perform at their worst in 

sophisticated conventional warfare.13 

Given the Kennedy administration’s interest in low-intensity warfare, 

and against the background of the struggle in Vietnam, it was no accident 

that the Howze Board emphasized this type of conflict in its deliberations. 

The counterinsurgency potential of airmobility was particularly significant: 

airmobile forces promised the ability to patrol large areas of diffi cult thirdworld terrain and, having found the enemy, fix him in place while rapidly 

concentrating the firepower to eliminate him before he melted back into 

the countryside. This would free the Army from the theoretical ideal ratio 

of ten security troops to every one insurgent. Thus, airmobility represented 

a potential force multiplier on the low-intensity battlefield. To this extent, 

the real battlefield requirements of Vietnam drove the development of 

airmobility. It is no surprise, therefore, that an airmobile unit—the 1st Air 

Cavalry Division (Airmobile)—was the first US Army combat unit ordered 

to Vietnam by President Lyndon Johnson in 1965. 

In the Howze concept, Army airmobile forces would be reliant on the 

Air Force and the Navy for air and sea lift to the theater of operations and 

for “as much intra-theater airlift as possible,” but in battle, airmobile troops 

would be supported by fire from organic Army attack aircraft, both fi xed- and 

rotary-wing.14 The Board concluded that Air Force C-130 transports would 

be unable to operate from the rough forward strips from which the airmobile 

troops would enter the battle. And that those troops would, therefore, best 

be served by fixed- and rotary-wing transport aircraft also provided by the 

Army itself.15 

Some aviation enthusiasts within the Army may have desired a fully 

airmobile force, but the Howze deliberations suggested a continuing 

requirement for conventional formations, enhanced by airmobile units.16 

The Board, therefore, recommended a partial “airmobilization” of the 

Army by the conversion of five out of the Army’s then current peacetime 

strength of sixteen divisions to airmobile “Air Assault Divisions.” The 

eleven unconverted divisions would remain as conventional formations 

with augmentation by additional aircraft. Such a proposal had the merit of 

conforming to McNamara’s apparent requirement for radical innovation 

while still appearing to be a compromise between the Army’s adherence to 

the principles of conventional mechanized warfare and the new airmobility 

42 
doctrine. The conversion of the divisions to airmobility would also be a 

gradual process phased over a period of five years or so.17 

The timing of the emergence of airmobility was apposite in that it occurred 

at about the same time the Army was undergoing a process of conversion from 

the “Pentomic” (for “pentagonal atomic”) structure of the late 1950s that had 

emphasized nuclear over conventional war fighting capabilities, consistent 

with the Eisenhower administration’s policy of “massive retaliation,” to a 

structure that emphasized conventional over nuclear war fi ghting capabilities 

and counterinsurgency, consistent with McNamara’s own policy of “flexible 

response.” The new reorganization objective, army divisions (ROAD) 

were to be more maneuverable than their Pentomic forbears, they were to 

have more organic aircraft and there was to be a greater emphasis on air 

transportability. The Howze Board took the ROAD organization as its 

starting point, recommending a force structure that combined air assault 

and ROAD divisions where the air assault divisions were organized on the 

same principle as the ROAD divisions.18 Thus, while the Howze Board’s 

airmobility concept represented dramatic doctrinal developments and the 

massive expansion of Army aviation, it had at its core the more efficient 

realization of McNamara’s own established policy objectives, and it remained 

compatible with the Army’s ROAD reorganization. 

Each of the new Air Assault Divisions would have some 459 fi xed- and 

rotary-wing aircraft, including enough transport aircraft to lift one third of 

its combat strength in a single lift. To make this possible, the new division, 

as McNamara had hoped, would have approximately only one third as many 

ground vehicles as a conventional infantry division. It would also have less 

artillery, but in order to compensate for the shortfall in fire support, each Air 

Assault Division would have its own organic air support in the shape of 36 

UH-1B rocket-armed attack helicopters and 24 AV-1 Mohawk fixed-wing 

attack aircraft. If the Howze proposals were fully implemented, the Army’s 

aviation inventory would rise from 4,887 aircraft in 1962—a fi gure about 

which the Air Force was already vexed—to 10,608 aircraft in the period 

1963 to 1968, a dramatic increase in the Army’s aviation assets.19 

In the Howze Board’s airmobile concept, Air Assault Divisions would 

establish secure bases supported by the Air Force’s Air Transport Command. 

From these bases, small Army tactical transport aircraft, both fi xed- and 

rotary-wing, would supply rough forward air strips up to one hundred 

kilometers away, from which would operate the division’s airmobile brigade 

task forces, flown into battle by Army helicopters and supported by fi re from 

organic Army attack aircraft—again both fixed- and rotary-wing.20 

43 
In addition to new airmobile formations and the aviation augmentation 

of existing formations, the Howze Board also discussed the development of 

a new family of aircraft to equip these units. The backbone of the Army’s 

aviation assets in the period 1963 to 1968 would be provided by variants 

of the UH-1 utility helicopter. Of these, the UH-1B attack helicopter would 

be available in 1963, with the AH-1G Cobra attack helicopter becoming 

available in 1964. The latter aircraft would use the engines and many 

other common components from the UH-1 helicopter, but in a completely 

redesigned airframe with an extensive weapons fit to produce the fi rst truly 

dedicated attack helicopter. 

In the shape of the Cobra, the Army would have a real “helicopter fi ghter,” 

but even this was likely to be replaced by a future “SA” or Surveillance 

Attack V/STOL aircraft that would also replace the O/AV-1 Mohawk 

fixed-wing aircraft. The Board anticipated that a number of 1960s aircraft 

research programs might contribute data to the SA, an aircraft that would 

have a maximum speed of mach 0.9. These programs included the British 

Hawker Siddely P-1127 jet V/STOL project, later developed as the Harrier 

combat aircraft, acquired by the British Royal Air Force and other world 

armed services including the United States Marine Corps. Thus, the Board 

was anticipating the use by the Army of dedicated “fighter” helicopters and 

jet-powered, V/STOL fixed-wing fi ghter aircraft. 

For the transport role between its secure bases and forward strips, the 

Army would, in the immediate future, use its CH-47 Chinook helicopters 

and its CV-2 Caribou fixed-wing transport planes, plus its UH-1 utility 

helicopters. The use of the CV-2 in Vietnam was to prove particularly galling 

for Air Force officers, many of which believed Air Force transport aircraft 

could better fulfill its role and that, in any case, all fixed-wing aircraft should 

be operated by the Air Force. The dispute over the CV-2 was to result in 

the 1966 decision by which the Army renounced its CV-2s to the Air Force 

(where they were re-designated C-7s) in return for the Army’s retention of 

the armed helicopter. 

However, in the early 1960s, the Army had no intention of getting out 

of the fixed-wing business. The Rogers Board had declared that the ideal 

transport aircraft would combine the best attributes of the CH-47 helicopter 

and the CV-2 fixed-wing transport aircraft in a V/STOL airframe, but since 

these were then new aircraft, the Board deemed it too early to specify a 

replacement. As a result, the Army became involved in a tri-service V/STOL 

research program designed to yield what the Board described as a medium 

tactical transport (MTT) V/STOL aircraft which it hoped would replace 

the CH-47 and CV-2 around 1970.21 The resulting three- to fi ve-ton (US) 

44 
aircraft was unlikely to be a conventional helicopter and one of the research 

programs involved a “tilt-wing” design, a principle subsequently adopted by 

the Marine Corps with its V-22 Osprey transport aircraft. 

The Board also anticipated a light tactical transport (LTT) V/TOL aircraft 

which might use similar technology and which would replace the entire UH1 utility helicopter fleet from about 1973 onwards. Thus, the Board suggested 

the replacement of the most numerous and important Army aircraft types 

by a family of aircraft, few of which might actually be helicopters in the 

conventional sense, including jet V/STOL fixed-wing aircraft and various 

other V/STOL designs such as tilting wings, tilting ducts, and gimballing 

propellers. 

Most radically, the Board anticipated the development of an entirely new 

type of aircraft: the Artillery V/TOL platform, essentially a fl ying artillery 

piece it would provide the airmobile formations with indirect fire support from 

ground sites from which it could be rapidly re-deployed. To be available in 

the mid-1970s, the artillery V/TOL platform would have a secondary mission 

of providing direct fire support for ground units, both from the ground and 

from the air, furnishing the Army with yet another combat aircraft.22 

The drafters of the Howze Report were clearly aware that, in proposing a 

massive increase in Army aviation, including the use of organic Army fixedand rotary-wing aircraft in the attack role, they were treading on extremely 

sensitive ground with regard to the division of roles and missions between 

the services, specifically between the Army and the Air Force. The Board 

was, therefore, at pains to point out that should the Army concept be adopted, 

the Air Force “will retain practically all of the vitally important functions it 

now carries with respect to the support of the land battle . . . ”23 This was 

really a polite way of acknowledging that the Air Force would lose at least 

some of those functions. 

Here, the Board’s conclusions may have been influenced by the Army’s 

long-standing dissatisfaction with the quality of the close air support it 

received from the Air Force. Indeed, the Board suggested, by implication, 

the Air Force had failed to fulfill certain close air support functions and that 

these should, therefore, more properly be taken over by the Army. Andrew 

F. Krepinevich has argued that this was one of the driving forces behind 

airmobility, but not necessarily in the sense that the Army insisted on assuming 

the close support role in the first instance. Rather airmobility’s justifi cation of 

Army attack aircraft served as a threat to force the Air Force into providing 

a better close air support service, or face the prospect of renouncing the role 

entirely.24 

45 
According to the Howze Board, existing Air Force aircraft and command 

and control systems were not optimized for close air support, and they believed 

that the very high performance of Air Force aircraft detracted from their ability 

to provide effective close air support, while slower-moving Army aircraft 

might be better suited to the role. They, therefore, recommended that studies 

be made of the requirement for “intermediate performance fi ghter-bombers 

in joint operations,” but insisted that this “should not delay the incorporation 

of light attack aircraft into the Army structure,” as recommended elsewhere 

in the report.25 

Whatever the truth of Krepinevich’s claims, the Howze Board preferred 

to suggest that Air Force concerns about Army duplication of its roles and 

missions were actually groundless. These concerns, said the Board, had only 

led to the creation of a vacuum in close air support where neither service 

operated, but where, if released from artificial limitations on weight and 

firepower, Army aircraft would be most suitable. 

The Howze Board insisted that Air Force fighter-bombers would still 

be required to support the Army on the ground, but the Board’s conception 

of this support was at once both broad and limited. It was broad in the sense 

that the Board interpreted support of the ground battle to include air defense, 

interdiction of the combat area and deep reconnaissance. It was limited in 

the sense that while the Board believed Air Force fi ghter-bombers should 

continue to provide close air support to ground troops in contact with the 

enemy, it had reservations about the Air Force’s ability to completely fulfill 

the Army’s requirements for this role. 

The members of the Howze Board agreed that the Air Force command 

and control system provided the “very desirable capability” for concentration 

of airpower on a “single target system.” However, they also felt that this was 

not necessarily consistent with the close air support needs of the Army, many 

of which could only be provided by organic Army aircraft whose relationship 

with the supported units must inevitably be more intimate than could ever be 

achieved by aircraft from a separate service. Thus, in the Board’s view, while 

“the Army should remain dependent on the Air Force for the greater part of 

the weight of close air support,” airborne firepower should be, in accordance 

with the Air Force view, concentrated where it was required the most.26 This 

was an attempt by the Howze Board to both have its aviation cake and eat it, 

too. For it could mean the concentration of both Air Force and Army aircraft 

in support of ground troops in contact with the enemy, but the Army would 

be under no similar obligation to support Air Force operations away from the 

ground combat zone with its own aircraft. 

46 
The good performance of airmobile units in counterinsurgency 

warfare—an aspect of “special warfare” in Army parlance—that seemed to 

be indicated by the tests, war games and analysis carried out by the Howze 

Board, prompted it to drop another bombshell for the Air Force by insisting 

that “counterinsurgency operations are basically an aspect of land warfare” 

to which “Army aircraft are particularly well suited.” It followed, therefore, 

said the Board, that the Army should be charged with the supervision and 

training of foreign personnel employing these types of aircraft whether they 

are assigned to the local army or air force.”27 

Not surprisingly, the Air Force’s senior leadership was shocked by the 

Howze Board proposals. The resulting controversy triggered Congressional 

debate and, incidentally, heightened opposition to the airmobile concept 

from Army conservatives.28 Naturally, the Air Force rejected the Howze 

Board’s rationale for the introduction of its concept of airmobility, with its 

concomitant encroachment on Air Force roles and missions, and responded 

by commissioning its own tactical air support study under General Gabriel 

P. Disosway. 

THE DISOSWAY REPORT 

The Air Force’s Tactical Air Support Evaluation Board saw the Howze 

Report as a wholesale assault on Air Force roles and missions. To the members 

of the Air Force Board it seemed that the Army was seeking to gain control 

of the intra-theater airlift, close air support, escort and even interdiction 

roles from the Air Force.29 The Board rejected the idea of specialized Army 

airmobile units with their own organic air support on the grounds that this 

contravened the tenet of the centralization of airpower under single (Air 

Force) control that had been a founding principle of the United States Air 

Force. 

The Disosway Board drew attention to Howze’s proposal for an Air 

Transport Brigade. This was a corps-level unit intended to support divisions 

to which it was not organic. The Disosway Board argued that this fl ew in 

the face of the Army’s own argument that aviation assets could only be 

really responsive if they were organic to specific Army formations. For the 

Disosway Board, this raised the prospect that if the Army was to develop 

an aviation capability of the magnitude envisioned by the Howze Report, it 

would soon metamorphose into another centrally controlled “air force” in 

direct competition with the USAF.30 

Despite the Howze Board’s claims that Army aircraft were less 

vulnerable than had previously been thought, Disosway and his colleagues 

found nothing in the Howze Report to contradict their belief that the Air 

Force’s high performance aircraft were both more flexible and more likely 

47 
to survive combat than the Army’s lower-performance machines.31 For the 

Disosway Board, the tactical deployment of large numbers of ground troops 

by helicopter in the face of the intense air defense environment presented by 

the Warsaw Pact’s forces would be quite impossible without unacceptable 

losses.32 

The dispute between the Army and the Air Force over helicopters was 

long-standing and was especially bitter over the Army’s arming of rotarywing aircraft. For many Air Force officers, the adoption of helicopters by 

the Army was an underhanded move to cash in on the fact that the roles 

of helicopters, were less-clearly defined than those of fi xed-wing aircraft, 

but while they did not want the Army to take over Air Force missions with 

helicopters they also did not themselves want these slow and ungainly 

vehicles. It seemed to the Disosway Board that the Army was merely using 

the helicopter as a “stepping stone” toward grabbing control of established 

Air Force missions.33 

Perhaps even more controversial was the Army’s use of fixed-wing 

aircraft in roles far removed from the Army cooperation missions to which 

they had originally been confined. The Air Force was bitterly opposed to 

the Army’s CV-2 and O/AV-1 programs, but worse, appeared to be on the 

horizon in the shape of the Army’s Surveillance Attack aircraft. This would 

clearly be a jet aircraft and, given Army interest in the P-1127 for the role, 

the Air Force was concerned that the Army might even be considering the 

planned supersonic derivative of this aircraft—the P-1154—for its post-1968 

plans.34 

Disosway questioned Army specifi cations for fixed-wing aircraft on 

the grounds that existing Air Force aircraft could already provide tactical 

airmobility in the combat zone. According to the Board, the Air Force’s C130 Hercules and C-123 Provider transport aircraft were already capable of 

distributing supplies and troops to the type of forward airstrips envisioned 

by the Howze Board.35 From there, they could be shuttled into battle by a 

limited number of helicopters. The Board held that 168 Air Force C-130s 

could provide the same support that, in Howze’s concept, required 106 Air 

Force C-130s plus 775 Army fixed- and rotary-wing transport aircraft.36 

Disosway rejected the Howze Board’s claims that Air Force transport 

aircraft often would be unable to land close enough to Army units in the field, 

and in the Air Force’s defense, pointed out that Howze himself had praised 

the “exceptional STOL characteristics” of the C-130 that “should be fully 

exploited in combat operations.” This was disingenuous. While the Howze 

report did include praise for the C-130’s capabilities, it still found in favor 

of the Army’s own CV-2—a considerably smaller aircraft—for the supply 

48 
of rough sites in the field. In a more telling criticism, the Disosway Board 

raised the question of the massive logistical problem in terms of petroleum, 

oil and lubricants, which might be raised by the Army’s deployment of the 

thousands of aircraft required to realize its airmobility mission.38 

Accepting the Army’s use of helicopters for limited reconnaissance and 

utility purposes, the Disosway Board rejected the service’s use of actual 

combat aircraft, especially jets. The Board felt that these were roles in which 

the Air Force already had an ample capability, and which would only be 

duplicated under the Army’s scheme.39 The Board argued that Air Force 

fixed-wing, high-performance aircraft were quite capable of providing close 

air support and were more likely to survive the ordeal than Army machines. 

The Disosway Board asserted that the AV-1, proposed by Howze as the 

Army’s fixed-wing attack aircraft, compared very unfavorably with the F4C Phantom the Air Force was then acquiring. 

The Air Force Board also considered helicopters too slow, fragile and 

unstable for the combat role. The reliance of Army airmobile units on 

helicopters would, it was argued, be impractical in all but low-intensity warfare 

like that in Vietnam. The Disosway Board held that Howze’s emphasis on 

counterinsurgency represented little more than a cynical attempt to exploit 

President John F. Kennedy’s interest in the subject in order to establish an 

air support role for Army aviation.40 In 1962, all the US armed forces saw 

Vietnam as an aberration from the real business of general war with the Warsaw 

Pact, Kennedy’s Green Berets, notwithstanding. Therefore, in the Disosway 

Board’s view, the Howze formulation would be of narrow application in 

addition to being prohibitively expensive. Furthermore, it rejected Howze’s 

request for exclusive Army responsibility for counterinsurgency aviation 

operations on the grounds that the Air Force already had a counterinsurgency 

capability.41 

Disosway sought to invalidate the Howze proposals by refuting most of 

them, but his report was slightly subtler than this. To some extent, Disosway 

accepted the challenge presented by the Howze Report by responding with 

two main proposals: he acknowledged that the Army was dissatisfi ed with 

the Air Force’s provision of close air support and recommended the provision 

of more Air Force tactical fighter wings along with an accelerated program 

of F-4C Phantom procurement. The report even proposed the adoption by 

the Air Force of a V/STOL aircraft for tactical air support purposes. 

Disosway’s second major proposal was that the Air Force should develop 

its own airmobility concept. In the Howze Board’s conception, the Army 

would adopt organic aviation and thus, “the Army would get an air force.” 

The Air Force concept was, by contrast, less radical as it did not involve 

49 
the “Air Force getting an army”—though that idea was not entirely without 

precedent. As Disosway pointed out, the Howze Board had not considered 

ways in which Air Force aircraft might contribute to increases in Army 

tactical mobility. Instead, Howze had interpreted his brief from the Secretary 

of Defense as requiring exclusive reliance on Army aviation resources.42 

In the Air Force plan, regular Army divisions would have their mobility 

and effectiveness enhanced by the addition of Air Force units. This would 

leave the divisions in possession of all their vehicles and artillery should the 

tactical situation require them. Since this did not involve “over-specialization” 

of the augmented divisions, the Air Force argued that it was both, more 

efficient and economical than the Army concept. Significantly, in order to 

integrate the Air Force support with the Army ground units, Army divisions 

employing the Air Force concept would require a joint command element.43 

Ultimately, Disosway recommended that the studies of airmobility 

should continue with the involvement of both the Army and the Air Force. 

According to the Disosway Board, joint testing of both airmobility proposals 

should take place and procurement of CV-2s and O/AV-1s should cease 

immediately. 

This would only be necessary if the Howze Report successfully ran the 

gauntlet of the Army’s senior commanders who were not naturally disposed 

to airmobility. Once again, it was Colonel Robert Williams who was able 

to presume upon Army Chief of Staff, General Earle Wheeler, to act upon 

the report’s main recommendations.44 Given the origins of the report in the 

Secretary of Defense’s office, it is also quite likely that McNamara’s influence 

was also important here. 

The Howze Board’s “single conclusion” was that the “adoption by 

the Army of the airmobile concept . . . is necessary and desirable,” but the 

report was ambiguous as to how the Army should proceed.45 As we have 

seen, the Board recommended that the Army convert five of its existing 

sixteen divisions to “Air Assault Divisions” between 1963 and 1968. This 

implied that the Army undertake an immediate commitment to airmobility, 

in accordance with the outline laid out in the Howze Report, and begin 

converting its existing divisions to airmobile formations at once. 

This was the view taken by Howze himself. In late 1962, he tried to 

convince Secretary of the Army, Cyrus Vance, and General Wheeler to begin 

the process by converting the 82nd Airborne Division into an Air Assault 

Division while retaining its parachute capability. However, the Howze Board 

had also recommended a continued program of field tests and war games to 

perfect the airmobile concept. Howze believed that his Board had conducted 

enough tests to prove the validity of the Army airmobility concept, but Vance 

50 
and Wheeler informed Howze that McNamara required more evidence as a 

prerequisite for its adoption.46 

McNamara had supported Army airmobility in the creation of a Tactical 

Mobility Requirements Board predisposed to fi nding in its favor. He would 

continue to support the concept in its official adoption by the Army, but it is 

probable that he did not fully appreciate the full significance and possible 

consequences of his 1962 airmobility memoranda. As we have seen, the 

Howze Report recommended the conversion to air assault status of nearly one 

third of the Army’s front-line strength. This would have involved a dramatic 

increase in Army aviation, and the adoption of the associated doctrine 

threatened an explosion of the simmering roles and missions dispute with the 

Air Force. Moreover, despite claims to the contrary, “airmobilization” was 

unlikely to be cost neutral.47 McNamara’s office, therefore, began to express 

reservations about the Howze recommendations and, although he praised the 

Howze Report, McNamara himself also expressed some public criticisms 

before the House of Representatives in February 1963.48 Of particular concern 

to the OSD was the Howze recommendations’ reliance on helicopters when 

light fixed-wing aircraft might have done the job more efficiently, the small 

payload of the Army CV-2 transport compared with the Air Force C-130 

transport, and the roles and missions controversy over the O/AV-1. In the 

latter case the OSD was concerned about the clash between the different 

management philosophies of the two services, specifically centralized versus 

decentralized control of airpower assets.49 Consequently, McNamara rejected 

Howze’s recommendation for further testing of the Army concept in parallel 

with its adoption by the service. 

Instead, the Army was to form an experimental Air Assault Division as 

a test bed for the Howze airmobility concept. This unit was designated the 

11th Air Assault Division and placed under the command of General Harry 

O. Kinnard, a logical choice for the job, having been a long-time proponent 

of Army aviation, particularly, the Army’s use of the helicopters.50 Despite 

Howze’s opposition to a further period of testing, Wheeler wanted him to 

continue to lead the Army’s airmobility project by assuming command of the 

Test Evaluation and Control Group that would oversee the 11th Air Assault 

Division tests. However, the Cuban Missile Crisis of October 1962 resulted 

in Howze’s recall to his corps. Wheeler, therefore, selected Williams, now 

a Brigadier General, for the role.51 Thus, the person principally responsible 

for stimulating the examination of airmobility by the Army was also given 

the responsibility for evaluating the performance of the concept in field 

exercises. 

51 
Both the 11th Air Assault Division and the Test Evaluation and Control 

group were placed under the authority of the Commanding General of the 

US 3rd Army, Lieutenant General C.W.G. Rich, who established an exercise 

direction group for the tests designated Field Project TEAM (provisional) 

(Test Evaluation of Air Mobility). 

The 11th Air Assault Division tests were unilateral Army exercises, 

although they did involve the provision of some support by Air Force units. 

The Joint Chiefs of Staff, however, given the Department of Defense’s 

developing reservations about the Howze Report, committed themselves to 

testing both the Army airmobility concept arising from the Howze Board, and 

the Air Force alternative arising from the Disosway Board, in comparative 

divisional exercises under the authority of Strike Command. The Strike 

Command was a joint Army-Air Force command established to carry out 

joint exercises, recommend joint doctrine and manage the deployment of 

Army and Air Force units based in the United States.52 The two services 

shared the commanding general and deputy commanding general slots in 

Strike Command. Army General Paul Adams was Commanding General of 

Strike Command at the time. 

TESTING THE COMPETING AIRMOBILITY CONCEPTS 

During 1963, Strike Command prepared a Test and Evaluation Plan assuming a comparative evaluation by the Command of both the Army and the 

Air Force airmobility concepts. The Joint Chiefs approved this on 23 August 

1963, but in December, the Secretary of Defense cut the Command’s Joint 

Test and Evaluation Task Force’s funding for Fiscal Years 1964 and 1965 by 

more than half. Consequently, Strike Command produced a revised Test and 

Evaluation Plan in which the main emphasis remained joint fi eld-testing of 

both the Army and Air Force airmobilty concepts. The new plan of January 

1964 was the Command’s best effort to retain as much of the original test and 

evaluation programs as possible, including the goal of comparative evaluation of both the Army and Air Force concepts.53 

Here, it is important to note the distinction between “joint” and 

“comparative” testing. Joint testing involved the joint administration of 

either of the two competing airmobile concepts by both services through 

the joint-service Strike Command. Comparative testing involved the 

comparison of tests of both airmobile concepts. These tests might involve the 

participation of forces from both services, but they need not necessarily be 

jointly administered. They might be unilaterally administered by one service 

as in the case of the 11th Air Assault Division tests. 

Having committed themselves to testing the Army’s airmobility vision 

arising out of the Howze Board, the Army Chiefs were concerned that 

52 
Disosway’s demand for joint testing of both Army and Air Force concepts 

might be an attempt by the Air Force to simply kill off airmobility at the 

testing stage. Army Vice Chief of Staff General Barksdale Hamlett said on 

11th February 1963 that he was concerned that the Army “be permitted to 

pursue an orderly program without being forced into joint testing.”54 The 

Joint Chiefs, therefore, with Air Force Chief of Staff General Curtis E. 

LeMay dissenting, sought and received permission from the Secretary of 

Defense for the Army to proceed unilaterally with the testing of its own 

airmobility concept. Only after these tests would the US Army Chief of Staff 

recommend to the Joint Chiefs whether any part of the Army concept required 

joint testing. Based on this information, the Joint Chiefs would then make 

a final decision on joint testing of the Army concept by Strike Command. 

In the meantime, Strike Command would proceed with joint testing of the 

Air Force airmobility concept. These tests would involve two major joint 

exercises: the brigade- level GOLD FIRE I and the Divisional-level GOLD 

FIRE II. 

The Joint Chiefs did order Strike Command to “observe actively” the 

Army’s unilateral tests, with a view to the possibility of the Command 

testing and evaluating the Army concept in 1965. In accordance with the new 

instructions from the Joint Chiefs, Strike Command prepared a new Test and 

Evaluation Plan. This involved provision, if so directed by the Joint Chiefs, 

for the comparative, joint testing and evaluation of both the Army and Air 

Force airmobility concepts in two exercises: GOLD FIRE II which would 

examine the Howze proposal and GOLD FIRE II ALPHA which would 

examine the Disosway proposal. No joint testing of the Army concept by 

Strike Command was to precede the approval of the Joint Chiefs.55 

In September 1963, the 11th Air Assault Division began a series of tests 

culminating in a battalion-size field exercise called AIR ASSAULT I. This 

took place on 20 April 1964 at Fort Stewart, Georgia. The object of this phase 

of the testing was to perfect the coordination of battalion-level airmobile 

operations along with such required concomitant airmobile techniques as 

flying command posts, landing zone fire suppression and air assault doctrine. 

General Williams’s Test Evaluation and Control Group deemed the exercises 

such a success that the Army cancelled a brigade-level exercise scheduled 

for June 1964 and, instead, pressed on with plans for a full-scale divisional 

exercise: AIR ASSAULT II to be held in October. 

The month before this exercise was due to take place, the Secretary 

of Defense ordered Strike Command to prepare its own report on it for 

submission to the Joint Chiefs and his own office. As Strike Command was 

about to conduct its own field test of the Air Force airmobility scheme in 

Exercise GOLD FIRE I, the Secretary reasoned that a comparison of its 

53 
reports on both exercises would constitute a comparative evaluation of an 

Air Assault Division and a conventional division enhanced by the Air Force 

concept.56 

These orders provoked complaints from General Adams who argued that 

the same team would need to observe both exercises for such an evaluation to 

be truly comparative. Unfortunately, this was not possible as AIR ASSAULT 

II was due to take place between 11 October and 15 November 1964, 

while GOLD FIRE I was scheduled to take place simultaneously between 

25 October and 13 November. Adams requested that AIR ASSAULT II 

be postponed so that the same team could see at least two weeks of each 

exercise, but the Army Chief of Staff rejected this on the grounds that the 

11th Air Assault Division was already deployed in the exercise area. Adams 

responded that a real comparative evaluation was therefore impossible, but 

Strike Command did compile a report on AIR ASSAULT II.57 Adams might 

also have added the objection that the two exercises were perhaps not truly 

comparable in any case: AIR ASSAULT II being a division-level exercise 

while GOLD FIRE I was only brigade level. 

The divisional level test of the 11th Air Assault Division took place 

between 14 October 1964 and 12 November 1964 and involved two brigades 

of the division operating against the 82d Airborne Division. A third airmobile 

brigade was simulated in the exercise, the Air Assault Division having not yet 

been brought up to full strength. In their after action report, the umpires and 

unit commanders involved in the tests deemed the 11th Air Assault Division’s 

performance in AIR ASSAULT II a success, considering it extremely useful 

for controlling large areas in low-intensity war environments. The exercise 

suggested that in a high-intensity conflict the division would make a good 

reserve screening force, but might otherwise be hampered by weakness in 

the face of enemy armored forces. The division, of course, had no armored 

units of its own. 

The tests did reveal some other problems with the experimental division: 

while the division was especially mobile in the sense that its units could 

patrol and concentrate by air, its lack of ground vehicles meant that once 

on the ground, its units were actually peculiarly immobile in the absence 

of helicopter airlift. The division’s mobility was drastically reduced in bad 

weather. Its aircraft were not all-weather capable and during the exercise air 

operations had been restricted for five days due to storms. Also, the division’s 

efficiency appeared to decline rapidly in sustained operations.58 

Strike Command’s report of AIR ASSAULT II also suggested flaws in the 

Army airmobility concept in areas involving cooperation between the Army 

and the Air Force, including Air Force fire support, tactical air reconnaissance, 

battlefield surveillance by both the Army and the Air Force, compatibility of 

54 
the Army and Strike Command air traffic systems, and the use of the C-130 

Air Force transport aircraft in support of the Air Assault Division. Adams 

argued, therefore, that further evaluation of the new formation was necessary 

and he recommended to the Joint Chiefs that the 11th Air Assault Division be 

subjected to a further test exercise, this time, a joint one under the auspices 

of Strike Command.59 

Strike Command’s test of the Air Force airmobility concept, Joint 

Exercise GOLD FIRE I, took place in the area of Fort Leonard Wood, 

Missouri, using two brigades of the 1st Infantry Division, one performing as 

the enemy, with Air Force aircraft providing reconnaissance, close air support 

and troop airlift, including the use of sixteen CH-3C helicopters. Planning 

for the exercise itself had not proceeded without some interservice diffi culty. 

The Army had been reluctant to furnish the Air Force with elements of a 

conventional infantry division for the exercise on the basis that such a division 

was “an approved organization not subject to modification for test purposes.” 

Instead, the Army offered elements of its own experimental airmobile unit, 

the 11th Air Assault Division, for training with the Air Force for one month 

in the summer of 1964. This was unacceptable to the Air Force. After Adams 

had complained to the Joint Chiefs, the impasse was resolved in a meeting at 

Strike Command headquarters on 2 March 1964, when the Army agreed to 

provide units of the 1st Infantry Division for the Air Force tests.60 

Adams pronounced Exercise GOLD FIRE I a success, claiming that the 

Air Force concept involved the ’generous and whole-hearted accomplishment 

of tasks that have long been the responsibility of the tactical air forces.” He 

wanted to proceed with a full-scale divisional test of the Air Force airmobility 

concept—Exercise GOLD FIRE II—but he also declared that GOLD FIRE 

I was sufficient evidence alone of its validity. As with the Army tests, 

however, the GOLD FIRE I evaluators did detect a number of problems with 

the application of the Air Force airmobility concept, which would require 

corrections in order to realize its full potential. 

The evaluators believed the Army would need to develop more equipment compatible with the Air Force’s preferred transport aircraft, the C-130 

and C-141 Starlifter, much current Army equipment being only compatible 

with the C-123 and C-133 Cargomaster. Subsequently, the Army’s Continental Army Command also criticized the evaluators’ “admission” that the 

Air Force concept was only compatible with infantry divisions, it being impossible to air transport much of the equipment of armored and mechanized 

divisions.61 Actually, this was hardly a failing by comparison with the Army 

scheme as it, too, was only really capable of application to converted infantry 

or airborne divisions, the resulting “air assault” or “airmobile,” division hav55 
ing no armored component. The Army could convert an armored division to 

an airmobile formation, but the resulting specialized unit would no longer be 

an armored division. 

Following the 1964 airmobility exercises, General Rich reported to the 

Army’s Combat Developments Command that, based on the data assembled 

in the Army airmobility exercises, an Air Assault Division should become 

a formal part of the Army table of organization. The command endorsed 

this recommendation in February 1965.62 The Department of the Army then 

proposed that the 11th Air Assault Division be formally absorbed into the 

Army’s order of battle. Satisfied that the 11th Air Assault Division tests were 

suffi cient justification for the adoption of the Army airmobile concept, the 

Army also requested that the Air Force cancel its upcoming GOLD FIRE 

II exercise. The Joint Chiefs concurred and recommended that the 11th Air 

Assault Division be retained and GOLD FIRE II cancelled with the disclaimer 

that this was “without prejudice to the . . . refinement of Army and Air Force 

concepts in future joint exercises.”63 

In fact, the cancellation of GOLD FIRE II sounded the death knell for 

the Air Force airmobility concept and effectively declared the Army’s the 

winner of the competition. Again, the Joint Chiefs were not unanimous on 

the issue, the Air Force’s General LeMay dissenting “because he believes 

that a sound decision on the subject requires a more thorough evaluation of 

a tested procedure and available capabilities which would provide a highly 

effective and economical basis for enhancing Army mobility without the 

need to establish a less capable division”—in other words, the Air Force’s 

mobility enhancement concept.64 McNamara, however, approved and the 

11th Air Assault Division entered the US Army order of battle on 1 July 

1965, re-designated as the 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile). On the 28th of 

the same month, the Secretary ordered the division to Vietnam. 

In 1962, Army airmobility proponents, unrepresentative of the more 

conservative views held by the service’s most senior commanders, found 

themselves in positions within the Office of the Secretary of Defense where 

they were able to use their influence to get McNamara to issue his April 1962 

airmobility memoranda. From this perspective, Colonel Robert Williams is 

probably the single most significant individual in the process by which the 

US Army came to adopt airmobility. 

The activities and conclusions of the Howze Board were deeply parochial. 

The Board members interpreted their brief as exploiting the opportunities 

presented by new aviation technology almost exclusively in terms of the 

Army’s own resources. While close air support by the Air Force still featured 

in the Army’s plans, virtually no thought was given to ways in which the Air 

56 
Force might contribute towards increasing Army mobility. Instead, the Army 

chose to drastically increase its own aviation assets in terms of both fixedand rotary-wing aircraft. 

The core of Air Force objections to the Howze Board proposals, as 

expressed in the Disosway Report, concerned roles and missions. It was an 

article of faith among most Air Force officers that their service should retain 

exclusive responsibility for all aspects of military aviation excepting a few 

observation and utility tasks that could be carried out by the Army in a few 

unsophisticated aircraft. Airmobility, however, as envisioned by the Army, 

threatened a massive increase in Army aviation such that the Army would 

assume an aviation role almost as important as that of the Air Force itself. 

Whether out of an intent to kill off the Army’s airmobility concept, or out 

of genuine concern, the Disosway Report criticized the reliance of the Army 

airmobility scheme on the fragile helicopter. This question of helicopter 

vulnerability was to become a prominent feature of the Army-Air Force 

debate over tactical air support in Vietnam. 

Even more serious in Air Force eyes than the inclusion in the Army’s 

order of battle of thousands of helicopters was the fact that many of these 

aircraft would be armed. Worse still was the inclusion of fi xed-wing attack 

aircraft in the Howze proposals. While there might be some confusion about 

which service should have responsibility for helicopters, there was no doubt 

in the Air Force’s view that it should have sole responsibility for fixed-wing 

fighter-bombers, and though no self-respecting Air Force pilot would want to 

fly an aircraft with the performance of the AV-1, this twin-turboprop clearly 

had become a fighter-bomber in Howze’s scheme. 

The Army’s airmobility concept, if fully realized, certainly did pose a 

threat to the Air Force’s roles, missions and budgets. The Air Force took 

steps to head off this threat by commissioning its own airmobility study 

which was, not surprisingly, deeply critical of the Howze Report. While the 

Disosway Report did acknowledge the weakness of existing Air Force close 

air support provision for the Army, this was not enough to halt the progress 

of the Army’s airmobility bandwagon, though it might have influenced 

McNamara’s decision to subject the concept to further tests. 

The Howze Report acknowledged that some of its proposals represented 

contraventions of existing agreements on roles and missions, but the Army’s 

point of view was that these should be revised in the light of new technological 

and doctrinal developments that had been emerging over the last decade 

or so. The end result, so Army aviation proponents believed, would be an 

enhancement of the capability of the US Army specifically and the US armed 

forces generally. Naturally, the Air Force argued that the reverse was actually 

57 
the case and that the expansion of Army aviation would lead to an undesirable 

dilution of airpower resources and tie up a sizable chunk of airpower assets 

in roles from which they could not easily be diverted, should the need arise. 

In addition to the technological developments that lay behind the Howze 

Report, and the doctrinal developments it represented, Army thinking on 

airmobility was also profoundly influenced by its experience at the hands of 

the Air Force. It seems clear that the Howze Board’s call for organic close 

air support was not dictated exclusively by a shortfall in artillery support 

brought on by the novel nature of airmobile formations. Clearly, the Army 

perceived the existence of its own attack aircraft as an inherent good which 

might be applied to all its units, not just the airmobile ones, and of course 

the very existence of Army attack aircraft made their use irresistible whether 

the supported unit was airmobile or not. Indeed, very early on in its Vietnam 

experience the Army found that it could not resist using its OV-1 observation 

aircraft in the close air support role.65 

The development of Army airmobility highlighted the deep philosophical 

divisions between it and its sister service. Within the Army, the belief 

persisted that the point of military decision lay on the ground where the 

opposing armies clashed. The Air Force, by contrast, believed that tactical 

air operations were secondary to the strategic missions that absorbed most of 

its interest, energies and budget. Furthermore, the Air Force’s very existence 

was inextricably entwined with the concept of the centralization of airpower. 

The Air Force believed that all aviation assets should be centrally controlled 

so that they could most effectively be concentrated at the point of decision. 

Naturally, the coordination of this airpower, regardless of the service of 

origin, should lay with the real airpower experts: Air Force officers. 

Both the Army and Air Force airmobility concepts were tested in major 

field exercises and, despite some apparent problems, both were deemed 

successful by their partisan evaluators, but McNamara’s decision to approve 

the Army scheme was not based on a truly comparative evaluation with that of 

the Air Force, for none was ever conducted. While the Air Force airmobility 

concept may have been merely a ploy to defuse the Army’s aviation plans, its 

details have tended to be obscured by the Army’s airmobility success. This 

suggests that the victors set not only the policy, but also the historical agenda, 

for the Air Force airmobility concept was certainly not devoid of merit. It 

was truly interservice and its application to conventional divisions may have 

actually offered more flexibility than the highly specialized Army scheme. It 

was also more flexible in that any aircraft allotted to tactical air support tasks 

within the scheme would still be available for use within the centralized Air 

Force Tactical Air Control System (TACS), while decentralized Army air 

assets would be permanently denied to the TACS. 

58 
It should be noted, however, that even the Army airmobility aviation 

proponents did not get it all their own way. Army airmobility appealed to 

McNamara because it appeared consistent with his established policies 

of flexible response and the extension of the principles of rationalism 

and efficiency to the defense community. However, the Howze Board 

recommendations proved too dramatic and divisive for McNamara to 

implement them in their entirety. He moderated his support for them 

somewhat, extending the period of testing and converting only one division 

to the new role, rather than the five recommended by the Howze Board. 

Ultimately, the events surrounding the development of the Army’s 

airmobility concept in the Howze Board’s deliberations, the Disosway 

Board’s criticism of them and the field tests of the two competing concepts 

did nothing to resolve interservice disputes over aviation roles and missions. 

They were to continue to fester in Vietnam itself where arguments for and 

against Army aviation raged from the arrival of the first two Army helicopter 

companies in December 1961. 

59 
NOTES 

1. Hamilton H. Howze, “The Requirement for Air Fighting Units,” The 

Rogers Board Report (1960), quoted in Hamilton H. Howze, A Cavalryman’s 

Story: Memoirs of a Twentieth Century Army General (Washington, DC, 1996), 

235. 

2. Hamilton H. Howze, “The Howze Board,” Army (February, 1974), 14. 

3. Frederic A. Bergerson, The Army Gets an Air Force: Tactics of Insurgent 

Bureaucratic Politics (Baltimore, 1980), 110. 

4. Barbara A. Sorrill & Constance J. Suwalsky, “The Origins, Deliberations, and Recommendations of the US Army Tactical Mobility Requirements 

Board” (Fort Leavenworth, Kansas: US Army Combat Developments Command 

Historical Monograph, April 1969), 8-9, US Army Center of Military History, 

Washington, DC (hereinafter referred to as CMH). 

5. Robert R. Williams, LTG, Interview, Senior Officer Oral History Program, US Army Military History Institute (hereinafter referred to as MHI), Carlisle Barracks, PA (1978), tape 2, transcript, 47. 

6. Edwin L. Powell, BG, Interview, Senior Officer Oral History Program, 

MHI, (1978), tape 1, transcript, 46-50. 

7. Williams, op cit, tape 2, transcript, 53-57. 

8. Secretary of Defense, memo for Mr Stahr (19 April 1962) in Alain C. Enthoven & K. Wayne Smith, How Much is Enough: Shaping the Defense Program, 

1961-1969 (New York, 1972), 103. 

9. Secretary of Defense, memo for the Secretary of the Army, & memo for 

Mr Stahr (19 April 1962), ibid, 101-104. 

10. Sorrill & Suwalsky, op cit, 71-73. 

11. Ibid., 75 & US Army Tactical Mobility Requirements Board, “Final Report” (hereinafter referred to as the Howze Report), (Fort Bragg, NC, 20 August 

1962), 4-6, CMH. 

12. Sorrill & Suwalsky, op cit, 77-79. 

13. “Howze Report,” 78-79. 

14. Ibid., 18. 

15. Ibid., 29. 

16. While Director of Army Aviation Howze himself had refused publication 

of an article entitled “Air Fighting Army” by BG. Carl Hutton, on the grounds that 

his proposal for something approaching a fully airmobile army was likely to be 

a political liability. The commander of the Army Aviation School at Fort Rucker, 

AL, Hutton had been one of the Army’s unofficial experimenters with armed helicopters. Howze, “The Howze Board,” 12-13. 

17. The Howze Report, 88-91. 

18. John L. Romjue, “The Evolution of American Army Doctrine” (Fort 

Monroe, VA, Military History Office, US Army Training and Doctrine Command, 

March 1996), 13-14. 

19. “The Howze Report,” 88-91. 

60 
20. Ibid., 36-40 & 47. 

21. Williams, op cit, tape 2, transcript, 51-52. 

22. “The Howze Report,” 62-64 & 66-68. 

23. Ibid., 72. 

24. Andrew F. Krepinevich, The Army and Vietnam (Baltimore, 1986), 114­

115. 

25. “The Howze Report,” 70-72. 

26. Ibid., 71. 

27. Ibid., 72. 

28. John J. Tolson, LTG, Interview, Senior Officer Oral History Program, 

MHI (1977), 18-24. 

29. AFORQ Presentation on the Howze Report (1962), Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, AL (hereinafter referred to as AFHRA), 

K177.1512-7, 9 & 16. 

30. US Air Force Tactical Air Support Evaluation Board, Report (hereinafter 

referred to as the “Disosway Report”), (14 August 1962), AFHRA, K177.1512-2, 

24 & Disosway, memo to LeMay (14 August 1962), 7-11 (included in report) 

31. Disosway Report, 14 & AFORQ Presentation on the Howze Report, 

47. 

32. Disosway Report, Attachment 1, 1. 

33. AFORQ Presentation on the Howze Report, 36. 

34. Ibid., 22-23 & 37-38. 

35. Disosway Report, Attachment 1, 2. 

36. AFORQ Presentation on the Howze Report, 5. 

37. Disosway Report, 16; see also 17-18 for performance figures dealing 

with this issue. 

38. Ibid., Attachment 2, 1. 

39. Gabriel P Disosway, Gen, USAF, Interview, US Air Force Oral History 

Project, AFHRA, K239.0512-974, 177-178. 

40. Disosway Report, Attachment 3, 1-3. 

41. Ibid., 7 & 21-22. 

42. Disosway Report, Disosway, memo to LeMay (14 August 1962), 12. 

43. Continental Army Command (CONARC), Command History 1964, 

CMH, 272 & 286. 

44. Williams, op cit., tape 2, transcript, 57. 

45. “Howze Report,” 95. 

46. Hamilton H. Howze, “Winding up a Great Show,” Army (April 1974), 

23-24 & Sorrill & Suwalsky, op cit., 120-121. 

47. Harry W.O. Kinnard, LTG, Interview, Senior Officer Oral History Program, MHI (1977). Although one of the Howze Board’s working groups satisfied 

itself that the replacement of ground transportation by aircraft would not be prohibitively expensive except in Europe where the density of the ground transport 

network made ground vehicles much more economical, the Board also estimated 

the cost for an air assault division for initial equipment and five years operating 

costs at $987M while the comparable costs for a ROAD infantry division and an 

61 
armored division were $693M and $863M respectively. Howze Report, 85 & Sorrill & Suwalsky, op cit, 87. 

48. Richard G. Davis, The 31 Initiatives: A Study in Air Force – Army Cooperation (Washington, DC, Office of Air Force History, 1987), 18. 

49. Howze disagreed with the criticisms of the O/AV-1 despite his acknowledgement that it was an interim aircraft pending the development of helicopters 

that could perform the same role more efficiently. He disagreed with the criticisms 

regarding the CV-2 arguing that short field performance was vital and that here the 

CV-2 definitely did outperform the C-130. The implication here is that whatever 

the payload limitations of CV-2s, Howze believed their short field performance 

made them worth having. Even better, in Howze’s view, would be V/TOL performance for which the convertiplane would be the answer. Unsurprisingly, Howze 

also favored the Army’s decentralized approach where air assets were devolved 

to division. Hamilton H. Howze, Gen, Senior Officer Oral History Program, MHI 

(1977), 2-6. 

50. When at the Air Command and Staff College at Maxwell AFB in the late 

1940s, Kinnard had written his thesis on the military future of the helicopter. Kinnard, op cit, 4. 

51. Williams, op cit, tape 2, transcript, 57. 

52. William W. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars (New York, 1980), 65. 

53. United States Strike Command, Command History 1964, (an in-house 

publication), CMH, 50-52. 

54. Quoted in Scott W. Lackey, ed, “Four Divisional Test Beds,” from “Initial Impressions Report: Changing the Army” (Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, CAC 

History Office, Center for Army Lessons Learned, US Army Combined Arms 

Command, 1994), http://call.army.mil:100/call/exfor/specrpt/chp5.htm, 7/10/97, 

1. 

55. Strike Command, op cit, 59-62. 

56. Ibid., 63. 

57. Ibid., 63-65. 

58. “Four Divisional Test Beds,” 2-3. 

59. CONARC, op cit, 278-279. 

60. Strike Command, op cit, 54-55. 

61. CONARC, op cit, 287. 

62. Ibid., 277 & 283. 

63. JCS, Memo for the Secretary of Defense (20 March 1965), CMH, 1-2. 

64. Ibid., 3. 

65. Originally, OV-1s operating in the battlefield surveillance role in Vietnam were armed with .50 caliber machine guns that were to be used only in selfdefense. This became a source of considerable frustration to the ground commanders because the OV-1s, with their long loiter time and ability to carry a wider 

variety of weapons, offered a close air support capability that had the potential for 

much faster reaction times than that provided by the Air Force. Given the capabilities of the aircraft, its increasing use in the close air support role was inevitable. 

John J. Tolson, Vietnam Studies, Airmobility (Washington DC: Department of the 

Army, 1973), 40-44. 

62 
CHAPTER 3 

COMMAND AND CONTROL 

Command and Control: The Exercise of authority 

and direction by a properly designated commander 

over assigned forces in the accomplishment of 

the mission. Command and control functions are 

performed through an arrangement of personnel, 

equipment, communications, facilities, and procedures 

which are employed by a commander in planning, 

directing, coordinating, and controlling forces and 

operations in the accomplishment of the mission.1 

As a result of the particular historical circumstances under which the 

United States became ever more deeply involved in the Second Indochina 

War, responsibility for the execution of American military policy at the 

theater level became fragmented between the Commander in Chief Pacific 

(CINCPAC) and the Military Assistance Command Vietnam (MACV). 

Interservice rivalry contributed to the development of this complex 

arrangement and was a continuing factor in the relationship, both between the 

two commands, and their various subordinate agencies. This fragmentation 

of command authority at the theater level was reflected in a similar dispersal 

of responsibility for the air power resources committed to the war. 

The United States’ Army and Air Force entered the Vietnam War with 

unresolved doctrinal differences regarding command arrangements and 

appropriate strategies for limited war. They pursued their own agendas in 

Southeast Asia, and the persistence of such rivalry within the context of the 

war was inherently inefficient, but they did so in the conviction that their 

own designs provided the swiftest route to victory. In hindsight, the costs 

were failure to arrive at optimal senior command arrangements or strategies 

for the war, with a consequent dissipation of air resources, but the individual 

service efforts were not always entirely incompatible. 

Interservice rivalry also emerged at the operational level of control of 

United States air power resources in Vietnam. This debate centered on Air 

Force efforts to bring the air power assets of the other services, particularly 

the Army and the Marine Corps, under the umbrella of its own Tactical Air 

Control System (TACS). The Air Force sought to assert its responsibility, 

63 
however indirect, for all air power assets, while the Army and the Marines 

sought to retain the unique responsiveness of their own organic aviation 

resources to the requirements of their ground forces. There are arguments, 

both pro and con, for each service’s position with regard to operational 

control of air assets, but the full realization of the Air Force’s objectives had 

potentially serious, and perhaps even fatal, institutional consequences for 

Army and Marine organic aviation. 

THE THEATER LEVEL 

Theater-level responsibility for the execution of United States military 

policy in the Second Indochina War is difficult to pin down with precision. 

Technically, CINCPAC was the commander of all American forces engaged 

in the war, but the name of Admiral Ulysses S. Grant Sharp is not often 

associated with the conflict in the informed public’s mind, whereas that 

of Army General William C. Westmoreland more frequently is. This is 

indicative of the fragmented nature of the senior command arrangements 

for the United States’ role in the confl ict. While CINCPAC’s headquarters 

was in Honolulu, 6,000 miles from the seat of the fi ghting, Westmoreland’s 

MACV was based in Saigon. Yet the Commander US Military Assistance 

Command Vietnam (COMUSMACV) did not have sole command authority 

for all US military units participating in the war. 

MACV was not, in fact, a theater command. With few exceptions, its 

writ did not extend beyond the borders of South Vietnam. Those United 

States forces engaged in the war but which did not fall within MACV’s remit 

reported directly to CINCPAC. Under the nominal authority of CINCPAC, 

MACV’s responsibility was the management of the United States war effort 

inside South Vietnam—the so-called “in country” war. The command was 

not a prefabricated product of contingency planning simply plucked off the 

dusty shelves in some Pentagon basement room and set down in Saigon. 

In fact, MACV was much more of an ad hoc arrangement that evolved in 

response to the developing situation in Southeast Asia, changing United 

States’ roles with respect to that situation and institutional pressures within 

the American armed forces. 

The word “assistance” in the very title of the US command explains 

some of the confusion. MACV had its origins in structures designed not 

for war, but for assistance short of war. The command had started life, not 

as an operational military headquarters, but as a body for the coordination 

of military assistance; first to the French and then to the infant state of 

Vietnam. When MACV came into being on 8 February 1962, it did so as a 

reorganization of the earlier Military Assistance Advisory Group Vietnam 

(MAAG). MAAG’s gestation went right back to the First Indochina War of 

64 
1946 to 1954 when France had battled the communist nationalists for control 

of its Indochinese colonies in Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia. 

Convinced that communism must be contained in Indochina, Secretary of 

State, Dean Acheson, announced the provision of military and economic aid 

both to France, for her own use in the region, and directly to the “Associated 

States” of Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos, on 8 May 1950.2

 United States 

containment strategy for Indochina came to rest on the establishment of a 

pro-American state of Vietnam of sufficient strength to resist external attack 

and internal subversion. However, while Washington’s strategy did involve 

an independent Vietnam, a continued French presence was also necessary 

to provide short-term security for the infant state. Therefore, the Truman 

administration encouraged the French to stay in Indochina, while at the same 

time urging upon them real concessions to the Bao Dai regime preparatory 

to complete withdrawal. For France, however, the Indochina War remained 

a colonial war. The French were not prepared to withdraw from Indochina 

after expending so much effort to defeat the Viet Minh.3 

The members of the Joint Mutual Defense Assistance Program Survey 

Mission, which visited Indochina in July and August of 1950, appreciated the 

contradictions of the United States’ Indochina strategy, but few alternatives 

presented themselves and the mission recommended more aid to the French 

and the establishment of a United States Military Assistance Advisory Group 

for Indochina to oversee the application of this aid. The first personnel for 

the MAAG began arriving in South Vietnam in September of 1950.4 

Despite the largesse of American assistance that, by the end of the First 

Indochina War was accounting for 80% of the French war effort, France was 

defeated and Vietnam divided at the 17th parallel between a communist north 

and a non-communist south. For a time, the French retained a presence in the 

south, but the United States gradually supplanted them as the sponsor of the 

new southern State of Vietnam and, in October 1954, President Dwight D. 

Eisenhower committed the United States to the security of the region when 

he offered South Vietnam’s then Prime Minister, Ngo Dinh Diem, direct 

American assistance which would not be channeled through the French. This 

was to include the training of a small South Vietnamese army for internal 

security purposes and Diem formally requested American instructors for this 

purpose on 10 May 1955. On 28 April 1956, MAAG assumed responsibility 

for the training of the Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN). Thus, 

the US had now assumed an advisory role, in addition to that of providing 

military aid in the form of money and equipment. 

As one might expect, American advisors served in conventional training 

roles in the bases established for the new army. They also assumed a more 

65 
operational role, being appointed to shadow South Vietnamese offi cers in 

the field. This meant that from 1957, as Diem moved against the remaining 

Viet Minh enclaves within South Vietnam and as a new communist-led 

insurgency developed within the South, they became increasingly exposed 

to potential combat situations. The first American advisors were wounded 

in South Vietnam in 1958 and the first American serviceman was killed in 

action there in 1961. 

While it may have been “undeclared,” the United States was, very 

definitely, at war in South Vietnam in 1965, but it cannot be said that the 

USA was so definitely at peace before that year. At some time before 1965, 

what had been an advisory and assistance role for the United States shaded 

gradually over to more of a belligerent one, and almost absentmindedly, the 

United States suddenly found itself at war in South Vietnam. It was MACV, 

ostensibly an advisory command that oversaw the United States’ part in this 

“in country war” from 1962, and MAAG before that. 

By the end of 1961, there were more than 3,000 American advisors 

—mainly US Army personnel—in South Vietnam, including US Army 

Special Forces Troops (Green Berets). An Army general led MAAG and 

the vast majority of his staff were from that service. They, and their South 

Vietnamese counterparts, cooperated in waging a ground war that had, at the 

outset, no significant air component. The Communists never deployed any 

significant air power in South Vietnam throughout the entire war, and in the 

early days, the South Vietnamese, forbidden under the terms of the Geneva 

agreement to possess military jet aircraft, disposed of only a relatively tiny, 

unsophisticated, embryonic air arm. 

United States Army officers, however, both in the USA and in Vietnam, 

did not ignore the third dimension of warfare. Vietnam was, of course, a 

helicopter war. The UH-1 “Huey” helicopter’s distinctive shape, perhaps 

along with that of the B-52 heavy bomber, became one of the key symbols of 

the United States in Vietnam. As we know, the US Army had been conducting 

experiments in the integration of helicopters with its ground forces since 

the 1950s, and in the early 1960s, was refi ning its airmobility concept. The 

latter development proceeded in lockstep with the escalation of the war in 

Vietnam. 

The development—in parallel with the war in Vietnam—of the Army’s 

airmobility concept involved the necessary assumption that aircraft were 

a legitimate form of transport in the US Army of the late 20th century. 

According to Army aviation enthusiasts, a helicopter in Army service was 

little different to a jeep. Furthermore, many Army officers, including the 

commanding general of MAAG Vietnam (and later MACV) General Paul 

66 
D. Harkins believed that as a counterinsurgency campaign, the war in South 

Vietnam was a ground campaign and should, therefore, be predominately an 

Army responsibility. As we have seen, the Howze Report argued precisely 

this. This line of thinking had two possible consequences: First, it could be 

used to justify the monopolization, by the Army, of senior slots within the 

command organization for the war in Vietnam. Second, it could be used to 

justify the virtually complete exclusion of the other services from Vietnam, 

except to the extent that the Army required them in a completely supporting 

role. 

Of the first of these possibilities, more details follow later in this chapter. 

As to the second, in 1961, the US Army had not yet deployed major ground 

units to South Vietnam. The service was principally involved in aiding and 

advising the ARVN, and conducting counterinsurgency operations with 

small numbers of Special Forces troops. Clearly, these efforts would require 

some kind of air support, but in 1961, it seemed that this might need to be 

mainly logistic. This could be provided by the Air Force, supplemented by 

Army helicopters and fixed-wing transport aircraft. 

As the pioneer in the field the Army could, of course, provide the ARVN 

with a measure of airmobility and, to this end, the first US Army helicopters 

arrived in South Vietnam in December 1961, when two Army aviation 

companies began operating in support of the ARVN, including the transport 

of troops directly into combat. The arrival of the helicopter companies meant 

that the US Army had, not for the last time, more aircraft in South Vietnam 

than the US Air Force. While this arrangement might seem, at fi rst sight, 

somewhat anomalous, the ARVN’s close air support demands were limited 

in the early days of the Vietnam War, and could be filled by the expanding 

Vietnamese Air Force (VNAF). Given the US Army’s perspective on its 

exclusive responsibility for counterinsurgency warfare, and the permissive 

South Vietnamese air defense environment, the Vietnam War seemed a 

perfect opportunity for the service to provide some of its own air support 

with its OV-1 Mohawk fixed-wing aircraft and its armed helicopters. A very 

real question emerges, therefore, as to whether the Army felt it required a US 

Air Force combat role in South Vietnam in 1961—for it did not ask for one 

—and indeed, whether one was actually necessary. 

Certainly, the US Air Force thought it was, and during the course of 

1961 lobbied the Department of Defense for an increased role in Vietnam. 

Despite his and his service’s traditional preoccupation with strategic air 

warfare, Air Force Chief of Staff General Curtis E. LeMay seems to have 

became increasingly concerned that the Army’s virtual monopoly of the 

low-intensity conflict in South Vietnam would deprive the Air Force of 

67 
valuable opportunities likely to accrue from significant participation in 

the war. Mindful of the emphasis on low-intensity warfare in the Kennedy 

administration’s policy of “flexible response,” it was at LeMay’s initiative 

that the Air Force began the development of counterinsurgency techniques, 

or in Air Force parlance: Special Air Warfare.5 

As a consequence, under the code name JUNGLE JIM, the 4400th 

Combat Crew Training Squadron (CCTS) was established in April 1961.6 

Among the 4400 CCTS’s tasks were the development of counterinsurgency 

tactics and hardware and, as the name suggests, the training of third country 

air forces in these techniques. It seems clear that the Air Force had developed 

the 4400 CCTS with the Vietnam conflict in mind, and in October 1961, in 

response to Air Force initiatives, the President approved the deployment of a 

detachment from the unit, code-named FARM GATE, to Bien Hoa in South 

Vietnam.7 

Despite an assertion by President Kennedy that FARM GATE was to 

fulfill an exclusively advisory and training role, the members of the 4400 

CCTS, or “Air Commandos” as they were known, were soon employing their 

aging piston-engine aircraft in clandestine combat missions. On 4 December 

1961, Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara agreed to the use of Air 

Commando aircraft on combat missions provided at least one member of the 

crew was South Vietnamese.8 Thus, in the shape of the Air Commandoes, 

the Air Force had significantly expanded its advisory role and staked out the 

beginnings of a combat role for itself in South Vietnam. 

The arrival of the Air Commandos in Southeast Asia represented the 

establishment of an air component within MACV, with a corresponding 

requirement for a higher Air Force command agency in South Vietnam. 

Thus, in November 1961, the 2d Advanced Echelon (2d ADVON), of the 

13th Air Force assumed control of Air Force combat operations in South 

Vietnam. As the role of the US Air Force expanded in South Vietnam, 2d 

ADVON became the 2d Air Division and, finally, the 7th Air Force. 

7th Air Force was to be a divided command. Its commanding general 

established headquarters in Saigon to oversee the air war in South Vietnam, but 

his deputy was based in Thailand. The reason for this peculiar arrangement lay 

in the widening of the war that had begun in the summer of 1964. Following 

the Gulf of Tonkin incidents in early August of that year, the United States 

began conducting a separate air war over North Vietnam from that over the 

south. The first US air strikes against North Vietnam added the US Navy’s air 

arm to those of the Army and the Air Force with a combat role in Southeast 

Asia. Further retaliatory strikes in response to the incident at Pleiku in early 

February 1965 sent 7th Air Force and the Republic of Vietnam’s Air Force 

68 
(VNAF) north of the 17th parallel. On 2 March 1965, the 7th Air Force and 

the 7th Fleet’s Task Force 77, operating from the Gulf of Tonkin, began a 

sustained campaign against the north code named ROLLING THUNDER. 

The Air Force had never been happy with the Army’s counterinsurgency 

strategy in South Vietnam, but rather than be left out of the war completely, 

it developed Special Air Warfare capability and secured a role within that 

strategy. However, the Air Force still believed that the war required an air 

strategy rather than an Air Force role dictated by the Army’s strategy in 

South Vietnam. The official US government position was that the war in 

South Vietnam was not an internal insurgency—a civil war in which the 

US had no right to intervene—but was in fact instigated and sustained by 

North Vietnam. It was then, in the government’s perspective, an attack by 

one sovereign nation—the Communist Democratic Republic of Vietnam in 

the north—on another sovereign nation—the non-communist Republic of 

Vietnam in the South—and the US was, therefore, fully justified in going to 

the aid of its South Vietnamese ally. If the root cause of the war lay in the 

north, as the government’s White Paper of February 1965 maintained, then, 

said the Air Force, the most direct method of concluding the war successfully 

lay in attacking the source of the problem.9

 In the Air Force’s view, the 

most economical way of doing this in terms of US (and North Vietnamese) 

casualties would be by unleashing the Air Force against North Vietnam, and 

any ground campaign in the South beyond a holding action, was largely 

superfluous. The Air Force, therefore, drew up a list of 92 key targets in 

North Vietnam, the prompt destruction of which, it believed, would bring the 

country to its knees and force it to desist from sustaining the insurgents in the 

south. In fact, the extent to which ROLLING THUNDER ever conformed 

to the Air Force’s preferred strategy remains moot, but it was clearly more 

to the Air Force’s taste than its role in the south. Thus, 7th Air Force came to 

be engaged upon two different air campaigns: one in support of the Army in 

South Vietnam and the other over North Vietnam. 

As we have seen, the Army, by contrast, believed, at least initially, 

that the war in Vietnam was an insurgency and that counterinsurgency 

operations should be its exclusive preserve. Its officers always maintained 

that whatever the nature of the war, the point of decision was on the ground. 

Political considerations restricted ground operations to South Vietnam and 

the Army, therefore, planned a strategy for victory in the south, though it did 

make periodic proposals for limited amphibious operations against North 

Vietnam. 

In 1965, Army plans did not include an air campaign against North 

Vietnam. General Westmoreland thought that such a campaign would 

69 
actually further undermine the already fragile security of South Vietnam. 

Later, Westmoreland sincerely came to endorse the air campaign against 

North Vietnam and made a number of public statements to this effect, but 

only as an adjunct to what he saw as, the more important ground campaign in 

the south.10 This begs the question: in 1965, as in 1961, was there sufficient 

justification for an Air Force combat role in the Vietnam War, given that, with 

the exception of the Air Commandoes and the air defense of South Vietnam, 

this was, first and foremost, directed towards attacks on North Vietnam?11 

President Lyndon B. Johnson approved such a role in the face of lobbying 

by the Air Force for attacks on North Vietnam alongside Army plans to 

Americanize the ground war. The fact that he did so may have been the 

result of bureaucratic compromise between competing military institutions 

rather than a decision based on the operational situation in Southeast Asia. 

Alternatively, the decision to initiate the air campaign against North Vietnam 

may have had different political motivations. The President may have felt that 

public opinion considerations dictated he “try” the “economical” air option, 

whatever his views about how successful it might be, before he escalated the 

ground war. 

Even if one accepts the requirement for an air offensive against North 

Vietnam, one could still question the Navy’s role in it, or at least the persistent 

use of the Navy’s expensive carrier air arm long after sophisticated land airbasing facilities had become available both in South Vietnam and Thailand. 

Certainly the Air Force did question the division of North Vietnam into 

separate “Route Packages” in which either the navy or the Air Force had 

exclusive responsibility. This, too, was a bureaucratic compromise designed 

to ease the complexities that would otherwise result from joint operations 

throughout North Vietnam. 

Ironically, the beginning of the air offensive against North Vietnam 

provided the justification for the dispatch of major United States ground 

units to South Vietnam. The first units of the 9th Marine Expeditionary 

Brigade began to deploy to South Vietnam in March 1965, initially to guard 

the air base at Da Nang, but the Marines were soon involved in aggressive 

patrolling and a fully fledged US ground war was soon under way in South 

Vietnam. The following month, the first Marine jet fi ghter-bombers flew 

to Da Nang and on 6 May, the III Marine Expeditionary Force (III MEF) 

was established in South Vietnam though the name was soon changed to III 

Marine Amphibious Force (III MAF).12 On 11 May, the Marine air component 

in South Vietnam was established as the I Marine Air Wing (I MAW). 

In fact, the Marines had already established an aviation role for 

themselves in South Vietnam when, on 15 April 1962, the Marine Corps 

70 
“seized the opportunity” provided by the Secretary of Defense’s approval 

of the deployment of another helicopter unit beyond the three companies 

then already deployed to Vietnam by the Army.13 The squadron of Marine 

transport helicopters, then dispatched to Soc Trang in the Mekong Delta area, 

formed the basis of Marine Task Unit SHUFLY. In September 1962, this unit 

moved to Da Nang in the northernmost, or First Corps, Tactical Zone of 

South Vietnam where the Marines were to concentrate their operations until 

their departure from the country in 1970. In December 1963, SHUFLY was 

renamed Marine Unit Vietnam (MUV); it was integrated with the 9th Marine 

Expeditionary Brigade when that arrived in 1965. 

While COMUSMACV controlled the Marines in South Vietnam, he 

did not have full control of the total allied forces committed to the Second 

Indochina War. Nominally, MACV was a “unified” command—that is 

one in which all three services are supposed to share an equitable division 

of responsibilities and offices. This was the US military establishment’s 

model for the conduct of combined warfare based on its experience in the 

Second World War where the US had employed a strategy based, at least in 

theory, on teamwork between the three services. General Paul D. Harkins, 

COMUSMACV until General Westmoreland took over in 1964, however, 

favored a different kind of command arrangement known as “specified.”As 

the name suggests, this involved the dominance of a specifi ed service—in 

this case the Army. Harkins’s rationale for this was that the war in South 

Vietnam was a counterinsurgency campaign and, as such, a ground campaign 

for which the Army must be primarily responsible. 

Harkins argued along these lines up until May of 1964 when he made a 

formal request that MACV be made a specified command, but at the urging 

of Admiral Sharp, the JCS rejected Harkins’s suggestion and elected to 

retain the unified nature of the command.14 Creation of a specifi ed MACV 

may have been difficult for the JCS. Acceptance of the seniority of the Army 

required the Chiefs to disregard the individual service interests they had 

always followed, in favor of a wider view they were rarely called upon to 

take. A specified Army command would deny the other services their right to 

an equal division of the roles and missions in Vietnam, and perhaps even have 

an impact on their funding levels. Whether for operational or bureaucratic 

reasons, this was a risk the Chiefs dare not take. Thus, when faced with the 

task of creating a command for Vietnam, the JCS’s preferred option was to 

clone itself to form the unified MACV, and given its bureaucratic inclinations, 

it was, perhaps, institutionally incapable of doing anything more.15 

Thus far, we have referred to MACV as the command authority for the 

war in South Vietnam, but it is important to realize that the war in Southeast 

71 
Asia was not confined to South Vietnam. In fact, the title “Second Indochina 

War” is a much better description of the conflict fought out in the 1960s and 

1970s in Southeast Asia than the more common “Vietnam War.” Indeed, the 

war was very much a resumption of unfinished business from the French, 

or First Indochina War of the late 1940s and early 1950s. Of course, the 

bulk of the ground combat did take place in South Vietnam, but during the 

course of the war, fighting spread throughout the entire Indochina region. As 

the foregoing has shown, in addition to the fighting in the south, the United 

States also waged an air campaign over North Vietnam. Aircraft engaged in 

ROLLING THUNDER were based outside South Vietnam; those from 7th 

Air Force flew from Thailand, while 7th Fleet aircraft flew from the carriers 

of Task Force 77 on “YANKEE STATION” in the Gulf of Tonkin. 

In addition to the campaigns over North and South Vietnam, the air 

war was further complicated by subsidiary operations in northern Laos and 

Cambodia. From the early 1960s, the CIA front airline, Air America, began 

to airlift arms and equipment for royalist Lao troops in their war with the 

communist Pathet Lao and North Vietnamese Army (NVA). Later, US armed 

forces aircraft became directly involved in supporting royalists, neutralists, 

and Meo tribesmen in Laos with airlift and attack missions. Again, 7th 

Air Force aircraft, operating from bases in Thailand, flew many of these 

missions. 

Obviously, these “out-of-country” air operations over North Vietnam 

and Laos were designed to have some kind of an impact on the war in South 

Vietnam. By knocking North Vietnam out of the war with sustained air 

attacks, the Air Force hoped to end the war in the south at a stroke, while 

at the same time providing the ultimate validation of the classical air power 

theory which was the service’s raison d’être. Subsequently, the Air Force 

complained that ROLLING THUNDER never conformed to the letter of 

its preferred strategy, but even the more limited ROLLING THUNDER 

campaign, as imposed by the politicians, was meant to improve South 

Vietnamese morale and interdict northern troops and supplies before they 

could affect the war in the south. As such, it might be said that the reality 

of ROLLING THUNDER, as a “deep interdiction” campaign, was meant 

to affect the war in South Vietnam more directly, at least in the operational 

sense, than the more truly strategic 94-target list Air Force dream campaign. 

Yet, despite the fact that all of this US air activity was part of the same war, 

it was not all controlled by MACV. Thus, while Southeast Asia might be 

described as a single theater, and South Vietnam only one element within 

that theater, MACV was not a theater command. In fact, COMUSMACV 

had no authority whatsoever for operations anywhere else in Southeast Asia, 

including North Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia.16 

72 
Before 1964, neither the JCS nor the White House saw Vietnam as 

sufficiently important to justify the establishment of a theater command in 

Saigon, but as the United States’ role escalated, the argument for such a 

command became increasingly strong. However, political and institutional 

considerations may have colored Washington’s view of the situation. 

Reestablishment of MACV as a Southeast Asia theater command would have 

considerably reduced the forces commanded by CINCPAC, and removed the 

ultimate responsibility for a major war effort from a Navy admiral in favor of 

an Army general who had formally been his subordinate. Clearly, this would 

have been an unattractive prospect for the Navy. 

As MACV itself was under the authority of the unifi ed CINCPAC, it 

was, more correctly, a “sub-unified” rather than a unified command. It was 

CINCPAC who controlled the air war over North Vietnam. He controlled 

the carrier-borne air power of Task Force 77 through the Commander in 

Chief Pacific Fleet (CINCPACFLT), and the tactical aircraft of the 7th Air 

Force based in Thailand through the Commander in Chief Pacifi c Air Forces 

(CINCPACAF). COMUSMACV enjoyed responsibility only for that part of 

the 7th Air Force actually based inside South Vietnam. 

Westmoreland has subsequently admitted that he would have preferred 

to head a “Southeast Asia Command” with responsibility for the entire 

Southeast Asian “theater.”17 At the time, he did request that the entire 

resources of 7th Air Force be placed at his disposal for operations inside 

South Vietnam, but CINCPACAF General Hunter Harris refused claiming 

other commitments in Southeast Asia and throughout the Pacifi c generally. 

Westmoreland’s attempts to gain control of the Air Force’s C-130 transport 

fleet in the Pacific also met with failure.18 

Naturally, Westmoreland’s reasoning behind these attempts to gain 

control of more air resources for the war in South Vietnam lay in his 

conviction that the ground war was the point of decision. Air Force officers, 

by contrast, believed that an air campaign against North Vietnam was the 

best way to conclude the war successfully. CINCPACAF was, therefore, 

reluctant to commit more resources directly to the war in South Vietnam 

for fear that, should an air campaign be approved that complied with the Air 

Force’s views, it might then be difficult to secure the release of precious air 

resources which had already been committed to the war in the south. This 

reluctance on the part of CINCPACAF to commit more resources directly 

to the war in South Vietnam may have damaged the Air Force’s reputation 

with the Army.19 

Placing the entire responsibility for the Second Indochina War in the 

hands of COMUSMACV as a single Southeast Asia Theater Commander 

73 
was certainly logical from the operational point of view, but it also carried 

political difficulties. In its rationale for participation in the war, the US 

government had presented itself as coming to the aid of a peace-loving, 

democratic, sovereign nation, the Republic of Vietnam, against which 

another sovereign nation: the communist Democratic Republic of Vietnam, 

was waging aggressive war.20 This justified US action within South and 

North Vietnam, but against the background of world opinion and the Cold 

War, the US wanted to keep the war limited and did not want to appear too 

aggressive. This meant that the US must not be seen to be widening the war 

elsewhere in Indochina, whatever the reality of the situation. In furtherance 

of these objectives, it was convenient to restrict the ground commander’s 

(COMUSMACV’s) responsibility to South Vietnam. Thus, political 

considerations reinforced institutional proclivities to retain MACV as a subunified command under CINCPAC. In any case, having established MACV 

as such, the temptation must have been to leave it that way, whatever the 

developing military situation in Southeast Asia, and this is what Washington 

did. 

Political considerations also militated against establishing MACV as a 

combined command with responsibility for South Vietnam’s forces. Thus, 

in addition to having little responsibility for United States forces committed 

to the war outside of South Vietnam, COMUSMACV did not even have 

full responsibility for all the allied forces inside South Vietnam. Publicly, 

Westmoreland accepted the political necessity of maintaining Vietnamese 

sovereignty by excluding the republic’s forces from the United States’ chain 

of command. COMUSMACV did retain responsibility for other so-called 

“free world” forces including the important Australasian and South Korean 

contingents, although he was limited in the area in which the ROK forces 

could be deployed. 

The B-52 heavy bombers of the 8th Air Force, which began operating in 

a tactical role over South Vietnam from June 1965 under the code name ARC 

LIGHT; also lay outside COMUSMACV’s direct authority. These aircraft 

remained under the control of Strategic Air Command. Again, the Air Force 

feared that, once committed to MACV, it might be difficult to reclaim the 

B-52s should circumstances permit their use over North Vietnam. The Air 

Force successfully argued for the retention of these aircraft under SAC on 

the grounds that their wider role as part of the US nuclear deterrent triad 

required they might be withdrawn at a moment’s notice should a national 

security emergency arise. MACV was able to pick the majority of targets 

for the giant bombers and prepare prioritized lists of targets from all sources, 

but final mission approval for the giant bombers lay in Washington.21 Here, a 

measure of intraservice rivalry emerged. From July 1966, the commander of 

74 
the 7th Air Force General Momyer began to call for the attachment of 8th Air 

Force’s Advanced Echelon, which was responsible for the B-52s, to his own 

headquarters, an arrangement which finally went into operation in January 

of the following year.22 

Both Harkins and Westmoreland were, however, able to make the Army’s 

position within MACV stronger than the unified nature of the command might 

suggest it should be. Obviously, even the most perfect unified command has 

some built-in bias in the sense that its commanding general can come from 

only one service. Normally, the JCS allotted unified commands to a general 

of the most represented service. Clearly, throughout most of the Vietnam 

War, this was the Army and the position of COMUSMACV always went to 

an Army general. 

If the spirit of a unified command is to be fully realized, and the command 

slots distributed as fairly as possible, then the command should be relatively 

equally divided among a number of service “component commands.” 

Within MACV, the Air Force component was 2d Air Division—later the 

7th Air Force—which had its own staff subordinate to COMUSMACV. 

There was no Army component command. According to Westmoreland, in 

the early days of the war, Air Force strength and responsibilities were such 

that they actually justified a separate Air Force component command before 

the US Army build-up justified a separate Army command.23 What this 

meant, in practice, was that the multiservice MACV controlled the ground 

war directly by serving—effectively—as the Army component staff. When 

COMUSMACV finally did institute a MACV Army command: US Army 

Vietnam (USARV), he perpetuated the existing arrangement by serving as 

his own Army Component Commander. Thus, MACV continued to perform 

as the Army Component Commander’s staff.24 

According to the Air Force, the net effect of COMUSMACV acting as 

his own Army component commander was a reduction in the authority of 

the Air Force representatives at MACV. Few of these Air Force offi cers were 

familiar with the Army-orientated tasks that comprised most MACV staff 

work. In practice, therefore, Army officers exercised dominant authority 

even over those MACV functions nominally under the control of Air 

Force officers. Though Harkins failed to make MACV an offi cial specified 

command, the effect of his and Westmoreland’s decision to act as their Army 

component commanders was to make MACV a unified command “in name 

only.”25 

The issue of its relative under representation in MACV caused concern 

within the Air Force throughout the Vietnam War. In an effort to redress this 

75 
imbalance, the Air Force Chief-of-Staff, General Curtis E. LeMay, while 

visiting Vietnam in April 1962, proposed that an Air Force offi cer become 

deputy commander of MACV. This was to be a similar position to that held 

by the British Royal Air Force’s Air Chief Marshal Tedder in the Second 

World War Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force, Europe. 

The commander of the 2d Air Division, Major General Rollen H. Anthis, 

also felt strongly that COMUSMACV’s deputy should be an Air Force 

general.26 In January 1963, he went over Harkins’s head to appeal directly 

to the Secretary of the Air Force Eugene Zuckert for an Air Force offi cer as 

overall deputy of COMUSMACV, and he reiterated his displeasure regarding 

the under representation of the USAF in the MACV staff to the Commander 

in Chief Pacific Air Force General Jacob E. Smart in November of the same 

year.27 Harkins, however, insisted that the MACV deputy should be an Army 

officer and Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara supported him. 

Initially, Harkins was equally opposed to the idea that he appoint an 

“air deputy” with duties confined to air operations alone, but Harkins later 

changed his mind and proposed that his air component commander become 

Deputy Commander of MACV for Air Operations. Following Harkins’s 

return to the United States, Westmoreland made a number of similar offers. 

While the concept of an “air deputy” was less than ideal for the Air Force, it 

did hold out the potential for providing the service with some real authority. 

The new commander of PACAF, General Hunter Harris, felt that it offered 

the prospect of bringing all air power assets in Vietnam—Army, Navy and 

Marine Corps—under the authority of the Air Force in the way that the 

5th Air Force had exercised control over Marine and Navy aircraft during 

the Korean War.28 Nevertheless, LeMay and the air staff held out for an 

Air Force officer as full deputy commander of MACV for all operations 

and Westmoreland continued to resist on the grounds, he has subsequently 

implied, that the war in Vietnam was primarily a ground war for which only 

the Army had the expertise required of the senior commander. Following 

this logic, as Westmoreland’s deputy might have to succeed him, he must be 

an Army offi cer.29 Only after the retirement of the stubborn LeMay did his 

replacement, General John P. McConnell, accept Westmoreland’s offer as 

the best he was likely to get. Thus, the commander of the 2d Air Division, 

General Joseph H. Moore, became MACV air deputy in June 1965. 

The disputes over which service should occupy the post of deputy 

COMUSMACV and whether there should be a deputy for air operations 

concerned the Chairman of the JCS General Earle Wheeler lest the debate 

attract Congressional interest. Wheeler favored offering the Air Force the 

MACV Deputy for Personnel and Deputy for Communication—Electronics 

76 
positions by way of concessions, but was opposed by Westmoreland. After 

a few months in post, Westmoreland’s first deputy, Lt. General John L. 

Throckmorton, was forced to return to the United States for surgery on a 

slipped disc. In a message to COMUMACV, Throckmorton reported his 

view that Westmoreland’s new choice for MACV overall deputy, General 

John A. Heintges, had only been approved by the JCS, “because he was top 

of your [Westmoreland’s] list and not in recognition of the fact that the war . 

. . is predominantly a series of ground battles and that the deputy slot should 

logically go to an Army type.”30 

As they emerged in practice, the arrangements for the theater-level 

command of US forces during the Vietnam War suited neither the Army 

nor the Air Force. Clearly, the Army would have preferred MACV to be a 

true theater command with responsibility for the entire resources committed 

to the war in Southeast Asia, including all of 7th Air Force, Task Force-77 

and SAC’s B-52s. No doubt the Army would also have preferred that this 

“Southeast Asia Command” be a specified formation under Army authority, 

an arrangement for which Harkins did argue on the basis that the conflict 

in Vietnam resulted from a guerrilla insurgency for which the Army should 

have primary responsibility. 

Taken to its ultimate conclusion, the logic of this argument suggested 

that there might be no need for a significant USAF presence at all in Vietnam. 

Furthermore, new Army formations, with greatly expanded air assets, could 

do the job unaided. In the event the USAF resisted the threat of its virtual 

exclusion from Vietnam and the Army was obliged to settle for the subunified MACV whose writ was essentially confined to those forces actually 

based in South Vietnam and which included a sizable and growing Air Force 

component. 

The USAF’s dream theater-level command arrangement would also 

have involved MACV being a true theater command, but it would also have 

been a truly unified arrangement in which the USAF component enjoyed 

equal status with that of the Army, and in which the USAF exercised its 

doctrinal requirement for centralized control—or single management—of 

all the command’s air assets. The Air Force complained that it was not able 

to secure centralized control of all air assets and that this mirrored the US 

command arrangements for the prosecution of the Vietnam War which were, 

as we have seen, fragmented. By centralized control of all air assets, the 

USAF meant the establishment of USAF control over Marine and Army 

air power. In fact, the precedents for Air Force control of Army air power 

were moot. It might also be said that, to some extent, the USAF actually 

contributed to the fragmentation of air power by seeking to reserve its 7th 

77 
Air Force assets in Thailand and its 8th Air Force B-52s outside MACV in 

order to keep them available for operations against North Vietnam which 

were more in keeping with the service’s doctrinal proclivities. 

Air Force responsibility, even for its own units, engaged in the war in 

Southeast Asia, was divided. On the one hand, the service prosecuted an 

air campaign against North Vietnam, while on the other, it was expected to 

support the Army’s efforts in South Vietnam. While the Air Force believed 

the central pillar of a proper air strategy to be a campaign against North 

Vietnam, it has argued that ROLLING THUNDER did not conform to the 

model that it, as the air power experts, would have preferred. The validity of 

this position is, however, beyond the scope of the present study. 

It has also been suggested that, in the eyes of the Johnson administration, 

the air campaign against North Vietnam began as no more than a political 

smoke screen designed to conceal the Americanization of the ground war, 

which, it concluded, was the only option likely to produce favorable results 

in Vietnam. Such a campaign would prove to the American people that 

the supposedly low casualty high-tech air option had been tried before the 

ground troops went in and they could then be introduced stealthily, fi rst as 

“security” forces to guard US air bases from which the raids against the north 

were being launched.31 Were this highly speculative theory found to have 

any basis in fact, then it would call into question the need for the campaign 

against the north in the same way that the validity of Army theories about 

counterinsurgency call into question the requirement for any Air Force 

presence in South Vietnam to speak of in the early 1960s. 

Despite Westmoreland’s early opposition to ROLLING THUNDER, 

which is a matter of record, the air campaign went on to develop its own 

raison d’être. At the very least, the administration was reluctant to back away 

from a campaign it had insisted was so important and that might actually be 

doing some good, though there was precious little evidence of this in South 

Vietnam. Westmoreland, it seems, sincerely changed his tune about the need 

for the bombing of the north, though at times he did have to be prodded by 

Washington to talk up the bombing in suitably public forums. 

In regard to the war in South Vietnam, the Air Force was obliged to get 

on, not with pursuing its own air strategy, but with supporting the Army’s 

ground campaign and this involved making itself more responsive to the 

requirements of the Army. While, then, it may be that the Air Force sought 

to impose its own doctrinal inclination towards a strategic air campaign 

against North Vietnam on the war in Southeast Asia, it was less than entirely 

successful and, indeed, found itself measuring its effectiveness in terms 

of the efficiency with which it performed tasks for the Army—a yardstick 

78 
which, by the service’s definition, could not equate with the effective use of 

airpower.32 

The Army sought to make the best of its command in South Vietnam 

and increase its grip on MACV by making the command “more specified” 

in practice. This led to what the Air Force saw as its relative under 

representation in MACV. In its turn, the Air Force sought to move closer to 

its desired command arrangements by redressing this perceived imbalance 

within MACV. Ideally, this would have involved the establishment of an 

Air Force general as a true deputy commander of MACV with real power. 

Instead, the Air Force was obliged to settle for the post of deputy commander 

with responsibility for air operations only, in the hope that such a role would 

maximize the centralization of air assets under Air Force control. Whether 

this arrangement provided the Air Force with a measure of real power can 

only be established by looking at the service’s efforts to bring all allied air 

assets under a common—Air Force managed—air control system. 

THE OPERATIONAL LEVEL 

Interservice rivalry also emerged at the operational level of US air 

power resources. This debate centered on the Air Force’s efforts to bring 

the air power assets of the other services, particularly those of the Army 

and the Marine Corps, under the umbrella of its own Tactical Air Control 

System (TACS). The Air Force sought to assert its responsibility, however 

indirect, for all air power assets, while the Army and the Marines strove to 

retain the unique responsiveness of their own organic aviation resources to 

the requirements of their ground forces. 

The rationale behind the USAF TACS was the control of all air 

power resources by a single management authority vested in the Air Force 

Component Commander (AFCC), regardless of the service of origin. As 

such, the TACS incurred early opposition from the Army on account of its 

implied threat to that service’s preferred decentralization of its own air power 

resources. While the Army was unable to prevent the establishment of the 

TACS, it was largely successful in retaining operational control of its own air 

power resources outside the system. 

Efforts by the Air Force to bring both the Marine and Army air power 

resources under the TACS umbrella served only to underline the weakness 

of the AFCC’s position as the coordinating authority for air operations in 

the face of determined opposition from the other services. As an Army 

General, COMUSMACV did not have any desire to turn over control of 

Army aviation to the Air Force; nor did CINCPAC, a Navy admiral, wish to 

renounce Marine Corps control of its own air power to the Air Force. 

79 
Prior to the introduction of US Air Force, ground support aircraft into 

South Vietnam in 1961, all fixed-wing air support for the Army of the 

Republic of Vietnam (ARVN), was provided by South Vietnam’s small air 

force: the VNAF. Requests for preplanned air support missions were passed 

from divisional headquarters to the Corps Tactical Operations Center where 

there was a VNAF Air Liaison Officer. Those requests, approved at the corps 

level, were then sent to the Joint General Staff’s Joint Operations Center 

in Saigon, which also included VNAF, and later also USAF offi cers. Here, 

the details of the mission and the resources to be allotted to it were worked 

out before being passed to the VNAF Air Operations Center—which had 

a USAF officer as deputy director—for execution.33 VNAF air units were 

parceled out to the corps commanders, limiting the resources available for 

use in each corps area and the degree to which those resources could be 

shifted about South Vietnam. 

The US Air Force regarded this system as unresponsive and lacking 

in adequate air force representation.34 Consequently, with the arrival of the 

FARM GATE detachment, the USAF set about establishing its own Tactical 

Air Control System to control and coordinate its growing air resources in 

South Vietnam. United States Air Force doctrine demanded that this involve 

the centralization of all air power assets committed to a theater under a 

single authority—the USAF Air Component Commander—so that he could 

shift these resources about the theater in accordance with the dictates of the 

operational situation.35 This implied the USAF’s desire to bring the air assets 

of other services operating in the theater under its, and therefore the AFCC’s, 

control, an arrangement which it described as “single management.” The 

United States Air Force was to make repeated requests that the TACS become 

the sole management agency for all air assets in South Vietnam, regardless 

of their service of origin. 

Thus, from the earliest days of United States involvement in the Second 

Indochina War, the USAF sought to centralize all air assets under its own 

control. Essentially, in 1961, the USAF was engaged in building the new 

VNAF; the closeness of the relationship between the USAF and the VNAF 

resulted in the inclusion of the latter service’s resources in the TACS from 

its inception, though they remained, rigidly divided among the Corps 

commands for the duration of the war. Ironically, however, while the VNAF 

participated in the USAF TACS, the US Army, with its growing aviation 

presence in South Vietnam—both rotary- and fi xed-wing—remained aloof 

from the system. During his trip to South Vietnam in April 1962, LeMay 

called on Harkins to centralize all air assets in South Vietnam, including the 

Army’s helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft, through the mechanism of the 

USAF’s TACS which was then in the process of assembly. 

80 
Harkins, of course, was hostile to such a development, but he sought to 

kill the issue with a seemingly positive response to LeMay’s demands that 

would leave the ultimate authority for the control of Army aviation in his 

own hands. He agreed that there was a case for the better coordination of all 

air assets, including the Army’s aviation companies which were supporting 

South Vietnamese operations in the field, and designated the Air Force 

Component Commander as the authority for the coordination of all VNAF 

and US air activity in South Vietnam, including that conducted by the Army 

and the Marines.36 

While the USAF hoped that Harkins’s directive would further the 

principle of unity of command, as they understood it, by placing all air 

resources under single—Air Force—management, Army offi cers believed 

it to contravene their interpretation of unity of command by interfering with 

the corps advisers’ authority over the use of Army aviation assets.37 Army 

doctrine called for the decentralization, rather than centralization, of air 

power assets. The Army believed air resources should be devolved to local 

ground commanders for their direct application to the decisive ground battle. 

In the context of Vietnam, in 1961, this meant that US air assets should be 

placed under the operational control of the senior US Army advisers to the 

ARVN corps commanders, while VNAF aircraft should come directly under 

the operational control of the Corps commander.38 

Presumably to assuage Army fears that they were about to completely 

lose control of their own air assets, Harkins introduced an Army element into 

the Air Operation Center that was to function as the senior element of the 

USAF’s TACS. (It was later to be replaced by dedicated Tactical Air Control 

Centers). In practice, however, the Army retained operational control of its 

aircraft under the corps advisers, where they might be allocated to even lower 

levels of command for employment by individual ground commanders as 

they saw fit. Army aircraft were not, in the main, coordinated with the AFCC 

through the mechanism of the TACS.39 Nor was the USAF able to do much 

about this in the face of Army resistance. 

Harkins’s directive had been quite specific that the Air Force Component 

Commander could not order agreement on matters of air coordination, for 

which ultimate authority lay with himself as COMUSMACV.40 This was 

consistent with the “Dictionary of United States Military Terms for Joint 

Usage” which states that a “coordinating authority” has the right “to require 

consultation between . . . agencies, but . . . not the authority to compel 

agreement. In the event he is unable to obtain essential agreement, he shall 

refer the matter to the appropriate authority.”41 

Naturally, this did not satisfy the AFCC, General Anthis. He did not 

believe that the corps advisers’ staffs were sufficiently trained to control 

81 
helicopter operations in support of South Vietnamese forces. When Anthis’s 

successor, General Moore, became air deputy, he also suggested that Army 

aircraft come under the USAF TACS. However, the directive establishing 

the air deputy contained no reference to Army aviation and Westmoreland 

was no more prepared to surrender Army aircraft to the USAF than his 

predecessor at MACV.42 

While the Army was able to retain its aircraft outside the TACS in the 

short term, it was unable to prevent the actual establishment of the USAF 

system with its implied threat to Army air autonomy; the first elements of the 

TACS began deploying to South Vietnam before the end of 1961, and a basic 

system was in place by the end of the following year. The establishment of 

the TACS highlighted the doctrinal dispute over tactical air power raging 

between the two services in the early 1960s. Representatives of the Air 

Force’s 2d Air Division in Southeast Asia suggested that it was deliberate US 

Army policy to use its own aircraft in preference to those of the Air Force, 

while the ARVN reserved the right to select between the use of Air Force 

aircraft or US Army aircraft as it saw fit. This resulted, they said, in the use 

of Army aircraft in roles for which Air Force types would have been more 

appropriate. In the main, this type of complaint centered upon the ARVN’s use 

of US Army armed helicopters for a variety of missions, including transport 

helicopter escort, close air support and even attack missions independent of 

ground forces in contact with the enemy. In addition, the absence of Army 

aircraft, whether rotary- or fixed-wing, from the TACS led to what 2d Air 

Division saw as lamentably poor control and coordination of air assets. 

Second Air Division maintained that the use of these “uncontrolled” Army 

aircraft represented a flying safety hazard both to themselves and to any 

“properly coordinated” Air Force aircraft operating in the same area. They 

even went so far as to suggest that the use of Army aircraft outside of the 

TACS sometimes led directly to friendly-fi re casualties.43 

In making these complaints about the Army’s command and control of 

air power, 2d Air Division drew on an Operational Test and Evaluation of 

the Vietnam TACS conducted by HQ PACAF between 1 June and 31 August 

1963. It was, of course, perfectly reasonable that a new and important system 

such as the Vietnam TACS should undergo a period of testing early in its 

life. However, it is also quite possible that part of PACAF’s intention behind 

conducting a test of the TACS was to “prove” conclusively USAF concepts 

regarding tactical airpower, while providing a forum for the criticism of 

the Army’s use of the medium. As such, the operational test and evaluation 

report provided convenient ammunition for the USAF’s use in its dispute 

with the Army over command, control and centralization of air power.44 

82 
Harkins seems to have sensed this (perhaps he was already aware); 

assuming that the TACS report would be critical of Army air procedures he 

launched a preemptive strike before it was released on 25 February 1964. On 

the 17th, he disingenuously insisted to CINCPAC that any indication of an 

interservice dispute between the US Army and the USAF over their respective 

air control systems was an “illusion” resulting from the “heat generated 

in honest argument” and pointed out that the two services “cooperated 

splendidly when committed to operations.”45 The real problem, said Harkins, 

was more a function of a lack of cooperation between the ARVN and the 

VNAF and that this was why the ARVN preferred to call on US Army and 

Marine Corps air support in preference to that of the VNAF.46 

However, in the same memo, Harkins’s inability to resist putting the 

Army’s case indicates that in fact the interservice dispute over command and 

control of air power was anything but an “illusion.” Harkins acknowledged 

that there were “two discrete systems” for the allocation and control of 

aviation in Vietnam, but he insisted that “there is, repeat is, an operational 

requirement for two systems . . .” He went on to argue that since Air Force 

and Army aviation resources had different capabilities they were, therefore, 

“complementary” rather than competing; this implied that, in Harkins’s view, 

1) The Army had a legitimate close air support role and 2) Army aircraft 

should remain outside the Air Force air control system. Both ideas were 

anathema to the USAF.47 

In fact, while Harkins insisted that two air control systems were justified, 

his arguments also suggest that he believed one system might be adequate. 

The two systems reflected individual service doctrine, but Harkins said that 

individual service doctrine should be disregarded in favor of the most effective 

solutions to the special close air support problems raised by counterinsurgency 

operations. Apparently, this would involve a review of current procedures, 

both Army and USAF, and presumably this could result in an abandonment 

of those procedures found wanting. For whatever reasons, as of February 

1964, Harkins believed the Air Force TACS “more cumbersome” than that 

of the Army so that when it came down to “immediate air requests”— that 

is requests for air support by troops in contact with the enemy—the local 

ground commander must be free to decide which air control system to use.48 

Given both this, and Harkins’s well-established belief in Army primacy for 

counterinsurgency warfare, Harkins’s expression of his views to CINCPAC 

can also be interpreted as a thinly veiled plea for the possible abandonment 

of the Air Force system in favor of exclusive Army control of air operations 

in South Vietnam. 

Not surprisingly, when the TACS report was finally released it 

represented an endorsement of the USAF system, an attack on the Army 

83 
one and an argument in favor of the abandonment of the latter in favor of the 

centralization of air resources under the former.49 The report’s authors argued 

that the operation of Army and Marine aircraft outside the TACS resulted in 

poor coordination of air assets and represented a serious air safety hazard. 

They observed that while the TACS had been designed to control all air 

operations, during the period of the test, more than half of the total aircraft 

committed to South Vietnam operated independently of the TACS and the 

numbers were rising.50 

The TACS report was, in its turn, criticized by Army sources. The 

commander of the Army Concept Team in Vietnam (ACTIV), Paul L. 

Bogen, attacked the unilateral nature of the test despite the fact that this was 

clearly an area of common interest between the services. For Bogen, the 

very fact that fewer than half the aircraft in South Vietnam operated under 

the TACS meant that “any conclusion as to the effectiveness of TACS to 

control all air resources in Vietnam is based on conjecture and ignores the 

strikingly different requirements posed by the employment of Army aircraft.” 

Furthermore, Bogen asserted that the report’s conclusions that the TACS 

provided an effective system for the provision of close air support, tactical 

air reconnaissance and logistic air support in South Vietnam, without any 

requirement for modification of its concept or structures, were “not supported 

by the discussion” therein. Bogen argued that the USAF’s demands for the 

centralization of all “air forces,” including Army air assets, under a single— 

USAF command—missed the point that Army aircraft did not constitute an 

“air force” since they were integrated with the ground forces, and he made 

no secret of his own belief that USAF aircraft should themselves be more 

closely integrated with the ground forces. Bogen reiterated Harkins’s claims 

that the ARVN preferred to request air support through Army or Marine 

channels and he worried that the TACS was ineffective for close air support 

missions, hinting that this might be a product of the Air Force’s doctrinal 

preference for strategic air warfare. In any case, Bogen doubted that the 

TACS actually could control all air assets in South Vietnam, including those 

of the Army and he noted that Army aircraft tended to operate at very low 

altitudes where TACS communications were poor. Like Harkins, Bogen 

recommended a joint evaluation of the TACS and the ARVN/US Army air 

control systems.51 

Bogen’s sensitivity to the TACS report is easy to understand. ACTIV 

had been established initially to study the application of the Howze 

Report on airmobility to Vietnam. As such, it was directly concerned with 

the operational testing of armed fixed- and rotary-wing Army aircraft in 

support of Army airmobile forces, and as we have already seen, the Howze 

Report came down firmly on the side of exclusive Army responsibility for 

counterinsurgency warfare. 

84 
In fact, the USAF subsequently acknowledged in a 1973 report that the 

South Vietnam TACS, established in 1962, was not really a “viable” system 

until the end of 1964. There were also problems coping with the rapid 

expansion of the air war and that it “was not as responsive to the immediate 

needs of the ground commander” as it should have been.52 Communications, 

the report acknowledged, were also a problem. As a result, various efforts 

were made to increase the responsiveness of the system to the needs of 

the ground commander between 1964 and 1966 with, the report’s authors 

believed, some success, but: 

Despite these improvements, the Army still lacked 

confidence in the ability of tactical air operations to deliver 

ordinance in a timely manner, especially for troops-incontact situations. This resulted in the Army tendency to use 

preplanned close air support as combat air cover in an effort 

to provide constant coverage during ground operations.53 

With the establishment of the USAF TACS in 1962, there were two 

tactical air control systems in South Vietnam. The arrival of the I Marine 

Air Wing in June of 1965 further complicated the issue. When the decision 

was taken to add a Marine Expeditionary Brigade to MACV, CINCPAC 

Admiral Ulysses S. Grant Sharp declared that COMUSMACV would 

exercise operational control over the Marines through the commander of 

the MEB and the AFCC, that is the commander of 2d Air Division, would 

be the “coordinating authority” for all air matters including the use of the 

MEB’s associated Marine Air Wing. As such, Sharp complied with the 

recommendations of the Tactical Air Support Procedures Board instituted 

by his predecessor at CINCPAC Admiral Harry D. Felt in 1963. Felt’s 

then Assistant Chief of Staff for Operations, Marine General Keith B. 

McCutcheon, who was later to be I MAW’s first commander in Vietnam, 

had been the chairman of this board.54 

The 1963 Tactical Air Support Procedures Board’s report acknowledged 

that each service had air assets which were essential for the support of its 

mission and accepted that they would exercise individual command and 

control over them, though the Board deliberately excluded itself from 

any effort to resolve the debate between the Army and the USAF over the 

Army’s provision of its own close air support. However, the board added 

the proviso that these individual service efforts must be coordinated and the 

board decided that this coordinating authority would be exercised by one of 

the service component commanders.55 

Felt neither rejected nor endorsed the findings of the 1963 Board, but 

COMUSACV went beyond its recommendations by informing CINCPAC 

85 
that I MAW’s jet aircraft would be placed under the operational control 

of the AFCC—to be exercised through the TACS—though Westmoreland 

stressed that the Marines could expect support from their own aircraft in 

combat. Sharp, however, upheld the letter of the 1963 Board’s report by 

not approving the subordination of I MAW to the USAF and allowing the 

Marines to establish their own air control system: the Marine Air Command 

and Control System whose Tactical Air Direction Center was established at 

Da Nang in June 1965. This system was used by the Marines to allot their 

aircraft to individual missions and monitor the activity of all Marine aircraft. 

Thus, in that month, Westmoreland revised his directive for the control of 

his air assets by ordering that the commander of the III Marine Amphibious 

Force would exercise operational control of all Marine air power committed 

to Vietnam, except in the event of an emergency, when COMUSMACV 

reserved the right to order the AFCC to take-over operational control. The 

commander of III MAF was also instructed by Westmoreland to identify any 

Marine aircraft sorties that were surplus to the immediate requirements of III 

MAF so that they could be reallocated by 7th Air Force to other missions, 

including the support of forces other than the Marines.56 

The USAF argued that the existence of three competing air control 

systems in South Vietnam contravened the military principle of unity of 

command enshrined in the service’s doctrine of the centralization of air 

power under its own control. As we have seen, the Army opposed this view 

on the grounds that USAF doctrine was flawed for the purposes of close 

air support. By contrast, Army doctrine called for the decentralization of air 

resources. The Marines agreed with the Army. Their doctrine emphasized the 

concept of an “air-ground team” where their air power was closely integrated 

with the Marine ground forces and their close air support requirements. The 

Marines, therefore, resisted the notion of placing their own aircraft under the 

Air Force TACS that would likely involve their use in support of other nonMarine forces. They preferred to use their own air control system to control 

Marine aircraft in exclusive support of Marine ground forces. It may be 

argued that the 1963 CINCPAC Tactical Air Support Procedures Board did 

indirectly support the bringing of Marine aircraft into the TACS inasmuch 

as the MACV AFCC, as “coordinating authority” wished it, but as we have 

already seen, such a coordinating authority could not compel agreement. In 

the face of resistance from a subordinate agency, its only recourse was to 

refer the matter to a higher authority. 

This is precisely what occurred in 1965. 7th Air Force’s commander 

as the “coordinating authority” for air operations wanted to bring I MAW’s 

aircraft under his operational control through the TACS, but the USMC, as 

was its right, did not feel compelled to contravene its doctrine by accepting 

86 
this arrangement. Westmoreland, although commander of a “semispecified” 

command, was willing to accede to USAF wishes with regard to the Marines 

(though not to the Army), but CINCPAC, as the ultimate authority, supported 

the Marines. It should be noted that, as a Navy officer, Admiral Sharp might 

have been expected to be somewhat more sympathetic to their case. 

The matter did not, however, end there. The USAF continued to press 

for the bringing of as much of the Marine air effort as possible under its own 

operational control through the TACS. If he could not gain control of all 

Marine aircraft, Second Air Division’s commander General Moore decided 

to try for at least part of it by requesting that his command assume overall 

operational control of all air defense resources. 

MACV’s air defenses were never tested in any significant degree during 

the Vietnam War, but the command retained an air defense capability mainly 

as a result of the slight threat posed by the North Vietnamese Air Force’s 

IL-44 light bombers. These represented an “air force in being,” while they 

existed there was always the threat, however slight, that they might mount 

raids against MACV’s large and vulnerable installations in the south. In fact, 

the IL-44s never came south, but their existence forced MACV to maintain 

air defense forces of fighters and surface-to-air missiles. Part of these air 

defense forces were provided by the Marines, indeed, it will be recalled 

that the Marines’ original mission in 1965 was the defense of the Da Nang 

air base, and the first Marine unit to arrive in South Vietnam was a Hawk 

surface-to-air missile battery. 

Naturally, the Marines were no more enthusiastic about losing operational 

control of their air defense resources than they were of losing control of any 

other aspect of their air assets, and this was particularly true of actual air 

combat units. The Marine fighter squadrons in South Vietnam operated the 

F-4 Phantom aircraft and McCutcheon’s early rationale for refusing Moore’s 

overtures was that the F-4 was a multirole aircraft with a substantial attack 

role. It could not, therefore, be regarded exclusively as an air defense aircraft. 

Nevertheless, the Marines finally did compromise with the USAF. In August 

1965, they agreed that the overall responsibility for air defense should pass 

to 7th Air Force, including that for the Marines’ area of responsibility in the I, 

or northernmost, Corps Tactical Zone of South Vietnam, and the commander 

of I MAW would designate Marine air resources to be used by a USAF air 

defense commander.57 

Having gained a measure of control over a small aspect of Marine air 

operations, the USAF continued to argue that all Marine air resources should 

follow suit. Westmoreland gave them another opportunity to plead their 

case when he asked General Moore to examine the advantages that might 

87 
accrue from placing Marine air power under the control of 2d Air Division. 

General Moore responded by citing events during the recent ARVN/USMC 

combined operation HARVEST MOON, held between 8 and 18 December 

1965. This, he said, indicated that Marine air power should come under one 

commander and be controlled through the TACS.58 

According to Moore, and to a subsequent USAF Contemporary Historical 

Examination of Current Operations (CHECO) report on the operation, 

the Marines experienced an almost complete breakdown of air power 

coordination during HARVEST MOON. Despite requests for his admission, 

the USAF Air Liaison Officer with the ARVN 2d Division—one of the units 

involved in the operation—was excluded from the planning sessions held 

between III MAF and the ARVN I Corps.59 Orders for HARVEST MOON 

included the provision of US Marine Corps artillery and air support to both 

ARVN and Marine ground units, but they did not include USAF or VNAF 

support. 

Marine air support was to be coordinated by an airborne Direct Air 

Support Center with positive control of air strikes by ground forward 

observers and airborne Forward Air Controllers (FACs) in helicopters and 

Army light aircraft.60 Moore and the CHECO report claim that the Marines 

had difficulty coordinating air support for the operation. Apparently, Marine 

forward observers suffered from poor communications with the airborne 

Direct Air Support Center and USAF FACs “saved the day” by stepping 

in to control Marine air strikes and diverting USAF and Marine preplanned 

sorties to the support of the ARVN through the TACS. The Air Force FACS 

even warned retreating ground troops of Viet Cong ambushes visible from 

the air. Having taken a hand in directing the air support effort, USAF FACS 

controlling USMC aircraft found themselves subject to interruptions by other 

Marine aircraft making uncoordinated strikes.61 These sources even suggest 

that on the 10th, apparently as a result of the problems experienced with 

the Marine coordination of air support, the ARVN 2d Division commander 

announced that, henceforth, he would use only VNAF/USAF air support for 

the remainder of the operation.62 

Most of the evidence for Moore’s and the CHECO Report’s assessment 

of the Marine air performance during HARVEST MOON comes from 

USAF Air Liaison Officers (ALOs), a not necessarily entirely unbiased 

source. As might be expected, the tenor of ARVN and USMC after action 

reports—again, not necessarily entirely unbiased sources—is not completely 

in accord with those sources originating with the Air Force. The drafters of 

these reports professed themselves generally satisfied with the air support 

during the operation, whatever its source or controlling authority, and much 

88 
to the USAF’s chagrin, they do not even mention the role of USAF FAC 

aircraft. Perhaps most curiously, the ARVN decision to withdraw from the 

Marine air control system does not feature in the ARVN 2d Division’s after 

action report. 

The USAF found further support for its demands for single management 

of all air resources in subsequent Marine operations, including Operations 

HICKORY and NEUTRALIZE, both in 1967. In the wake of the former 

operation, the USAF’s Deputy Director of its Tactical Air Control Center, 

Colonel Hagemann, reiterated USAF recommendations that future joint 

operations should come under the command and control of the Air Force 

Component Commander.63 

There were serious deficiencies in the planning of the air support for 

Operation HICKORY. United States Marine and Air Force personnel who 

were to have key responsibilities for the control and coordination of air 

power during the operation were excluded from the briefing process and 

only learned about the operation from unoffi cial sources.64 Target materials 

prepared according to individual service procedures turned out to be 

incompatible and, in any case, some of these materials were not distributed 

in a timely manner.65 

The lack of coordination in the planning process manifested itself 

during the operation when there was confusion between the USAF and 

the USMC as to the exact border between their areas of responsibility.66 A 

further serious problem occurred with the introduction into the operation 

of a Marine helicopter borne special landing force from naval units off the 

coast. Originally, III MAF and the Navy had requested a carrier task group 

provide the necessary air support for the landing, but the Air Force insisted 

the Marines support the landing from their own air resources.67 Reluctantly, 

the Marines agreed, however, so secret was the planning of this phase of the 

operation that I MAW does not seem to have been informed of the actual 

timing of the landing. Major Allen C. Getz, Offi cer in Charge, Detachment 

Bravo, MAS reports that the first I MAW knew of the actual landing was at 

0730 on 18 May when, with the landing force already ashore, “they called 

us on the radio and requested emergency FAC and fixed-wing because they 

were in pretty deep trouble.”68 

Nor does it seem that USAF FACS were officially informed of the 

addition of an extra 100 US Navy sorties to their remit. These extra sorties 

merely contributed to an embarrassment de riches for the FACS, who were 

overloaded with too many sorties in too small an area.69 Colonel Hagemann 

opined that the main cause of the problem was the late inclusion of the Navy 

sorties in the operation. This left too little time for the timely dissemination 

89 
of target data to the Navy. As a consequence most of the Navy sorties 

were simply handed over to the control of USAF FACs, but the necessity 

of coordinating the carrier launch cycle with timing of USAF sorties does 

not seem to have been appreciated by the operation’s planners, leading to 

saturation of the airspace in the target area. According to Hagemann, most of 

the problems contributing to this saturation had been resolved after a day or 

so, suggesting that a better coordination effort might have preempted them 

altogether.70 

The USAF’s CHECO Report on Operation HICKORY implies that part 

of the difficulty with the Navy sorties emerged from the delays involved 

in 7th Air Force having to obtain CINCPAC’s approval for the use of the 

carrier air group from Task Force 77.71 In fact, it took some three days from 

the point where 7th Air Force decided to request the supplementing of its 

forces for the operation with a carrier air group to the point where the TACC 

learned the request had been approved. This was at 1645 on the afternoon of 

17 May with the operation due to begin the following morning.72 

Three USAF wings participated in the operation and, of course, there 

was no requirement for 7th Air Force to request these—its own resources— 

from CINCPAC through COMUSMACV. Clearly then, Navy aircraft would 

have been available more quickly had they been permanently under the 

operational control of the AFCC, in other words: under “single management” 

as the Air Force understood it. 

In the USAF view, some of the same command and control problems 

which had dogged Operation HICKORY re-emerged in Operation 

NEUTRALIZE, and for the same reasons: a duplication of air control 

systems and the lack of an interface between those two systems.73 Operation 

NEUTRALIZE was an intensive air campaign designed by 7th Air Force to 

suppress North Vietnamese artillery positions dug in just above the DMZ. 

During 1967, these positions had been bringing a series of Marine 175mm 

fire-bases in the I Corps region of South Vietnam under an increasingly 

heavy fire. The operation involved the pooling of III MAF, 7th Air Force and 

MACV intelligence resources; Marine, Navy and USAF fi ghter-bombers, 

and SAC B-52s took part.74 

The 7th Air Force Commander, General Momyer, was satisfi ed that 

the operation successfully “broke the siege of these northern bases . . . 

[and] relieved pressure on the northern two provinces,” but in his service’s 

estimation, NEUTRALIZE was also yet another confirmation of its longrunning argument for single management.75 The Marines, of course, felt 

that the preservation of their air-ground team was more important than 

any benefits the USAF perceived in single management and, interestingly 

90 
enough, a measure of Marine dissatisfaction with the operation was centered 

on the Air Force’s performance rather than any lack of coordination resulting 

from the existence of two air control systems in I Corps.76 

According to the US Air Force then, allied airpower suffered from 

particular control and coordination problems in the I Corps area, and the 

main reasons for this were the existence of two distinct “air forces” in the 

region: the Marines’ I MAW and the USAF’s 7th Air Force, both of which 

operated through different—and incompatible—air control systems. The 

situation was further complicated by the periodic use of aircraft from the 

Navy’s Task Force 77 in the area. These operated only at the request of 7th 

Air Force and through the Air Force air control system, but prior approval 

had to be obtained from CINCPAC before their use. Navy procedures, which 

differed from those of the Air Force, led to a lack of flexibility in the use 

of Navy aircraft and further coordination problems. Of course, the VNAF 

also operated in the area, but the South Vietnamese service was much more 

closely coordinated with the US Air Force and used the same air control 

system. What United States airpower needed in order to realize its full 

efficiency and potential, said the Air Force, was single management, under 

the control of the Air Force Component Commander. 

United States Air Force demands for single management of all air power 

resources derived from precedent in the Second World War and Korea. The 

validity of this precedent must be regarded as moot in the Army case. Army 

airmobile forces differed vastly in quality and purpose from their distant 

airborne ancestors; as we will see elsewhere, an argument can be made—and 

at least in the case of helicopters was eventually accepted by the Air Force 

in Vietnam—that Army organic airborne fire support performed a different, 

but compatible, role to that of the Air Force’s fighter-bombers, for which 

decentralization may have been an essential prerequisite. In any case, the 

Air Force was at a distinct disadvantage in pressing its claim to bring Army 

aviation under the TACS, because as only the coordinating authority for air 

operations it must first convince COMUSMACV, an Army general, of the 

rightness of its case, and Army doctrine maintained that its aviation assets 

were part of the ground forces, not therefore, air power resources per se. 

The Air Force case for bringing Marine air under its operational control 

was stronger, but still largely unsuccessful before 1968. During the Korean 

War, the Air Force gained control of Marine air power and in Vietnam, 

with the two services aircraft, plus those of the Navy, operating in I Corps, 

there obviously were coordination problems that the Air Force lost little 

opportunity to document. Clearly single management would reduce these 

problems, but of course it could only do so at the expense of Marine doctrinal 

91 
requirements—that is at the expense of the Marine air-ground team. Single 

management was clearly more responsive and efficient regarding the doctrinal 

inclinations of the Air Force, but this does not prove the doctrine correct. For 

their part, the Marines believed the preservation of their air-ground team 

more important than any advantages the Air Force thought likely to accrue 

from single management. 

Responsibility for the execution of United States military policy in the 

Second Indochina War was fragmented between CINCPAC and MACV; this 

fragmentation was reflected in a complex dispersal of command authority for 

air power resources committed to the war. The reasons for this phenomenon 

lay, in part, in the historical gestation of the command arrangements 

for the United States role in the conflict, and one factor here does seem 

to have been interservice rivalry within the US military establishment. 

While the Air Force was the major critic of this fragmentation of air 

resources, it actually contributed to the phenomenon in Vietnam. Its 

commanders desired a unified command for Vietnam in which the Air Force 

Component Commander would enjoy equal responsibility with his Army 

counterpart, but they also wanted to keep MACV subordinate to CINCPAC 

in order to retain tighter control over 7th and 8th Air Force resources for use 

in a strategic campaign against North Vietnam. The Air Force achieved the 

second of these objectives in that MACV remained a sub-unifi ed command 

subordinate to CINCPAC, but its efforts to achieve the first were less 

successful. 

Political factors served to reinforce the institutional pressures conspiring 

against MACV becoming either a theater or a combined command. The 

Joint Chiefs and President Johnson may also have been wary of making 

Westmoreland too powerful, lest he become a political liability in the way 

that General Douglas MacArthur had during the Korean War. 

Once committed to the war in Vietnam, both the US Army and Air Force 

sought to bend the senior command arrangements for US forces to conform 

more closely to their own doctrinal inclinations. These were invariably 

consistent with each service’s institutional advantage, but there is no evidence 

to suggest that the officers concerned did not believe sincerely in the validity 

of their own service’s particular doctrine. 

At their most extreme, the divergent doctrines of the Army and the Air 

Force pointed towards exclusionary command arrangements and strategies 

for the Vietnam War. Army counterinsurgency and airmobile theory pointed 

to a specified Army theater command with little or no place for an Air Force 

Component, while USAF doctrine argued that a strategic air campaign 

against North Vietnam, independent of MACV, was the most appropriate 

92 
solution to America’s Vietnam dilemma. Washington rejected both of these 

extremes, but carefully ensured that all services had an appreciable stake in 

the war. While this may have preserved the United States from whole-hearted 

endorsement of ill-conceived, and possibly disastrous military schemes, it 

clearly produced a command arrangement that was excessively bureaucratic, 

and a mediocre strategy that, as we know, was ultimately unsuccessful. 

Regarding the operational control of air power resources in the Vietnam 

War between 1960 and the beginning of 1968, again interservice rivalry 

emerged. The Army and the Air Force clashed over the best way to control 

Army aviation for doctrinal reasons; this was largely an argument about control 

rather than command, but it had potentially far-reaching consequences. The 

Air Force was not very interested in the contribution that helicopters or the 

low-performance Army fixed-wing aircraft were likely to make to the sum 

of the airpower equation in Vietnam; it believed them to have only limited 

application as tactical transports and weapons systems for close air support 

tasks, even in South Vietnam’s permissive air defense environment. The 

important point for the Air Force was to assert its responsibility, however 

indirect, for all air power assets. 

There were advantages and disadvantages to Air Force control of Army 

aircraft through the TACS. On the debit side, it would likely have reduced 

the responsiveness of armed Army aircraft to the requirements of ground 

troops because it would have required that the Army use the TACS request 

procedure for Army air support and this clearly did take longer than the 

Army’s decentralized system. It would also have meant that the Air Force 

officers operating the TACS, not the Army officers making the requests, 

would have had the choice of responding to pre-planned or immediate 

requests for support with either Army aircraft or Air Force fi ghter-bombers, 

and this brings us back to the question of which was the better or most 

appropriate weapon system for a given set of circumstances. The Army felt 

that it was often the helicopter or the slow-moving OV-1, either by virtue 

of their unique capabilities, or simply because they were organic to Army 

units, while the Air Force felt that these aircraft were rarely the appropriate 

weapon systems. On the credit side, control of Army aircraft through the 

TACS would likely have speeded the availability of fixed-wing air support, 

where this proved necessary, because it would have deprived the Army of the 

opportunity to try its own organic air support before it took recourse to the 

Air Force option. Also, it almost certainly would have improved air safety 

standards for both Army and Air Force aircraft, but lower safety standards 

was a price the Army was willing to pay for the easy availability of its own 

organic air support.77 

93 
More fundamentally, if in Vietnam, Army aircraft under the TACS were 

to be less responsive to the ground commander’s needs and, if there was 

no guarantee that Army aircraft, with their unique characteristics, would 

be provided by the TACS, in response to requests for sir support, then this 

called into question the very concept of having Army aircraft for close air 

support purposes and reopened the interservice doctrinal dispute about the 

basic right of the Army to operate armed aircraft, or at least aircraft armed 

for anything other than self defense. The Army successfully defended its 

organic aviation against this potential threat by never allowing it to come 

under the authority of the Air Force TACS. No doubt, the Army enjoyed 

a considerable advantage here in that in order to win the argument the Air 

Force must convince COMUSMACV, and COMUSMACV was an Army 

general. 

The Air Force also clashed with the Marines over their aviation arm. 

The Air Force wanted to bring Marine aircraft under its control through 

the TACS in the manner that 5th Air Force had controlled Marine aircraft 

during the Korean War, and the full realization of its objectives would have 

spelled the end of the Marine air-ground team in Vietnam. In some ways, 

this was a commendable objective. The Marines designed their air support 

system to supplement the firepower of their lightly armed formations during 

amphibious assaults, but by 1968, the Marines had been in I Corps for three 

years. The permanent availability of Army artillery support compensated 

for Marine deficiencies in this arm, yet the Marines continued to operate 

their air power as if conducting an amphibious assault. United States Air 

Force control of Marine aircraft through the TACS would undoubtedly have 

resulted in a more flexible and equitable use of Marine resources throughout 

I Corps in support of both Marine and the increasing number of Army units 

assembling in the region from the end of 1967. Undoubtedly, it would also 

have reduced the coordination problems that clearly existed between the two 

services as a result of their different doctrines and air control systems. 

However, it was also likely to reduce the amount and responsiveness 

of Marine aviation available to support Marine ground forces and as such 

could have had a severe impact on the unique nature of Marine air power 

as part of their air-ground team, and if there was to be no air-ground team 

what was the point in having a Marine air arm? The Marines might just as 

well have drawn their air support from the USAF which is, of course, just 

what the Air Force wanted them to do. The dispute between the USAF and 

the Marines in I Corps had, therefore, potentially far-reaching, institutional, 

consequences. It threatened the Marine air-ground team in Vietnam and thus 

the very existence of an organic Marine air arm. Consequently, the Marines 

also fought back. This debate was to reach its height during the Khe Sanh 

crisis of early 1968. 

94 
NOTES 

1. Department of Defense Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms 

(1979) quoted in John J. Lane Jr., Command and Control and Communications 

Structures in Southeast Asia (Maxwell AFB, AL, Air War College, 1981). 

2. Ronald H. Spector, Advice and Support, The Early Years of the US 

Army in Vietnam, 1941-1960 (New York, 1985), 110. 

3. See Ian Horwood, The United States and Indochina in the Truman 

Years, Unpublished MA thesis (University of Missouri-Columbia, 1993). 

4. Spector, op cit., 114-115. 

5. Earle H. Tilford, Setup: What the Air Force Did in Vietnam and Why 

(Maxwell AFB, AL, 1991), 62. 

6. Robert F. Futrell, The United State Air Force in Southeast Asia: The 

Advisory Years to 1965 (Washington, DC, Office of Air Force History, 1981), 79. 

7. Ibid., 79-80. 

8. In fact the Air Commandos had already fired some shots in anger 

during some early familiarization flights. Ibid., 80-82. 

9. US Government White Paper (February 1965), Marvin E. Gettleman, 

ed., Vietnam: History, Documents, and Opinions on a Major World Crisis 

(Greenwich, CT, 1965), 284-316. 

10. Plans and Policy Division, Office of the Chief of Information, 

“Analysis of Public Statements on Ten Selected Issues of Gen. W.C. 

Westmoreland” (July 1968), Box 1 & Memo for Rostow (24 October 1966), 

Box 12, Westmoreland v CBS Litigation Collection, US National Archives 

(hereinafter referred to as USNA) College Park, MD., RG 407. It should also 

be noted that, in 1967, Westmoreland was actually ordered by the Chairman of 

the JCS to make some positive public statements about the bombing. Wheeler to 

Westmoreland (March 1967), Westmoreland Papers, Box 13, Folder 363, USNA 

RG 319. 

11. Robert Thompson, “Lessons from the Vietnam War,” Report of a 

seminar held at the Royal United Services Institute, London, Westmoreland 

Papers, Box 3, Folder 77, 2. 

12. The name was changed due to the colonial connotations attached by the 

Vietnamese to the word “expeditionary,” a title that the French had given to their 

own forces during the First Indochina War. 

13. Keith B. McCutcheon, “Marine Aviation in Vietnam, 1962-1970,” US 

Naval Institute Proceedings, Naval Review 1971, 164. 

14. William W. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars (New York, 1980), 76­

77. 

15. See Edward Luttwak, The Pentagon and the Art of War (New York, 

1985), 24-27, 43, 86 & 272 for a discussion of the nature of the JCS. 

16. With the exception of the southernmost portion of North Vietnam, 

or Route Pack One, which was deemed to be an extension of the southern 

95 
battlefield on account of the fact that the North Vietnamese emplaced artillery 

there which was capable of firing into South Vietnam. 

17. William C. Westmoreland, A Soldier Reports (New York, 1980), 96. 

18. John Schlight, The United States Air Force in Southeast Asia, The War 

in South Vietnam, The Years of the Offensive: 1965-1968 (Washington, DC, 

Office of Air Force History, 1988), 10. 

19. Ibid, 10. 

20. US Government “White Paper” (February 1965), Gettleman, op cit., 

284-316. 

21. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars, 99-104. 

22. Ibid., 99-104. 

23. Westmoreland, op cit., 94. 

24. While perhaps not entirely in accord with the spirit of unified 

command, considerable precedent exists for this arrangement. During the 

Korean War General Douglas MacArthur acted as his own Army component 

commander in the technically unified FECOM. General Dwight D. Eisenhower 

reserved the same role for himself in the Second World War SHAEF. 

25. Schlight, op cit., 10-11. 

26. Rollen H. Anthis, MG (USAF), Interview (US Air Force Oral History 

Collection, 17 November 1969), US Air Force Historical Research Agency 

[hereinafter referred to as AFHRA], K239.0512-240, 42. 

27. Anthis to Zuckert (9 January 1963), & Anthis to Smart (25 November 

1963), Miscellaneous Correspondence, AFHRA, K526. 

28. Hunter Harris, Gen (USAF), Interview (8 February 1967), AFHRA, 

K239.0512-377, 19-20. 

29. Westmoreland, op cit., 95. 

30. Throckmorton to Westmoreland, (131822Z, November 1965), 

Westmoreland Papers, Box 12, Folder 358b, Message File COMUSMACV (1 

October-December 1965), USNA RG 319. 

31. Robert L. Gallucci, “United States Military Policy in Vietnam: A View 

from the Bureaucratic Perspective” (Ph.D. diss., Brandeis University, 1974), 

107. 

32. See J. Taylor Sink, Rethinking the Air Operations Center: Air Force 

Command and Control in Conventional War (Maxwell AFB, AL, 1994), 13-22. 

33. William W. Momyer, USAF Southeast Asia Monograph Series, Vol. III, 

Monograph 4, The Vietnamese Air Force, 1951-1975, An Analysis of its Role in 

Combat (Washington, DC, Office of Air Force History, 1985), 10. 

34. Ibid., 10. 

35. Lawrence J. Hickey, “Operation HICKORY – Special Report,” 

Contemporary Historical Examination of Current Operations [CHECO] Report 

(24 July 1967), AFHRA, K717.0413-18, 1. 

36. MACV Directive 34, “Air Operations Center” (18 August 1962), in 

2d Air Division, “Discussion of MACV Directives Relating to Control and 

Coordination of Air,” 18 August 1962-November 1963), AFHRA, K526.549-1. 

37. George S. Eckhardt, Vietnam Studies, Command and Control 

(Washington, DC, Department of the Army, 1974), 37-38. 

96 
38. Momyer, The Vietnamese Air Force, 4-8. 

39. 2d Air Division, “Discussion of MACV Directives Relating to Control 

and Coordination of Air.” 

40. MACV Directive 34, “Air Operations Center” (18 August 1962), 2d Air 

Div.,”Discussion of MACV Directives Relating to Control and Coordination of 

Air.” 

41. McCutcheon, “Marine Aviation in Vietnam,” 175. 

42. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars, 73-81. 

43. “Discussion of MACV Directives Relating to Control and Coordination 

of Air.” 

44. HQ 2d Air Division, “Final Report: Operational Test and Evaluation 

Vietnam TACS” (25 February, 1964), AFHRA, K526.45011-1. 

45. COMUSMACV to CINCPAC, “Air Support Arrangements in Vietnam” 

(17 February 1964), AFHRA, K526.45011-3, 1-7 &, 23. 

46. Ibid., 15, 18 & 22. 

47. Ibid., 7. 

48. Ibid., 7, 15, 18 & 22-24. 

49. HQ 2d Air Division, “Final Report: Operational Test and Evaluation 

Vietnam TACS,” iii-iv. 

50. Ibid., 21. 

51. Paul L. Bogen to Director JRATA, “Comments on the Final Report 

Operational Test and Evaluation TACS in RVN” (5 May 1964), AFHRA, 

K526.45011-2, 1-3. 

52. Corona Harvest Report, “Command and Control of Southeast Asia 

Air Operations, 1 January 1965-31 March 1968” (January 1973), AFHRA, 

K239.034-4, 25-27. 

53. Ibid., 27. 

54. The twelve-man board had included representatives from CINCPAC’s 

staff and the three Pacific Command component commands. McCutcheon, 

“Marine Aviation in Vietnam,” 174. 

55. CINCPAC Tactical Air support Procedures Board Report (December 

1963), McCutcheon Papers, US Marine Corps Historical Center, Washington, 

DC. 

56. McCutcheon, “Marine Aviation in Vietnam,” 175-176 & 178. 

57. Keith B. McCutcheon, LG. (USMC), Interview (22 April 1971), 

AFHRA, K239.0512-1164, 5 & McCutcheon, “Marine Aviation in Vietnam,” 

176. 

58. 2d Air Division to CINCPACAF (1 Feb 1966), Doc 6, Kenneth Sams, 

“Operation HARVEST MOON, 8-18 December 1965 – Special Report,” 

CHECO Report (3 March 1966), AFHRA, K717.0413-3, 1. 

59. 2d Air Div to CINCPACAF (1 February 1965), Doc. Sams, op cit., 1. 

60. Sams, op cit., 3-4. 

61. After Action Report, LIEN KIET 18 (HARVEST MOON), ALO 5th 

Regt. ARVN, n.d., Doc. 2, Sams, op cit. According to the ALO the US Army 

advisor with ARVN 1/5 said that “if it had not been for the [USAF] O-1Es the 

97 
VC would have over-run their position” on 9 December. [paraphrase by ALO] & 

Sams, op cit., 5-7. 

62. Sams, op cit., 2. This information furnished by I Corps ALO, but 

otherwise unconfirmed. 

63. Report, TACD [Hagemann] to 7th Air Force, Subject: “7th Air Force 

Participation in III MAF Operation HICKORY” (26 May 1967), Doc. 2, Hickey, 

op cit., 3 & Report, 26. 

64. Interview with Henly (7AF ALO with I MAW), (24 May 1967), 

Interview with Newell & Interview with Capt. H. Campbell [Tally Ho FAC], 

Hickey, op cit., Docs: 1, Item 2 (1), 4 (5) & 6 (1-2). 

65. Hickey, 6-12. 

66. Interview with Campbell (Tally Ho FAC); Interview with Newell & 

Letter TACD (Hagemann) to 7th Air Force, Subject: “7th Air Force Participation 

in III MAF Operation HICKORY” (20 May 1967), Hickey, op cit., Docs: 3 (1­

2), 4 (1-2) & 6 (2-4). 

67. Letter, TACD to 7th Air Force, Subject: “7th Air Force Participation in 

III MAF Operation HICKORY” (20 May 1967), Doc. 3, Hickey, op cit., 2. 

68. Interview with Getz, Item 1, p1 & Interview with Henly, Item 2, 3, Doc 

1, Hickey, op cit., Doc. 1, Items: 1 (1) & 2 (3). 

69. Interview with Maj. W. Newell (Operations Officer, Task Force Tally 

Ho), Interview with Campbell [Tally Ho FAC] & Message, 20 TASS to 7th Air 

Force, Subject: “Special Report - ABCCC Hillsboro Operations Activities, Tally 

Ho/Tiger Hound” (18 May 1967), Hickey, op cit., Docs.: 4 (3-4), 6 (4-5) & 7. 

70. Report, TACD [Hagemann] to 7th Air Force, Subject: “7th Air Force 

Participation in III MAF Operation HICKORY” (26 May 1967), Letter, TACD 

[Hagemann] to 7th Air Force, Subject: “7AF Participation in III MAF Operation 

Hickory” (20 May 1967), Hickey, op cit., Docs: 2 (3), 3 (3) & Report, 9 & 20­

24. 

71. Hickey, op cit., 7-9. 

72. Letter, TACD [Hagemann] to 7th Air Force, Subject: “7th Air Force 

Participation in III MAF Operation HICKORY” (20 May 1967), Hickey, op cit., 

Doc. 3, 1-2. 

73. “Command and Control of Southeast Asia Air Operations,” 25-27. 

74. COMUSMACV to Johnson [Acting CJCS] and Sharp [CINCPAC] (27 

September 1967), Westmoreland Papers, Box 13, Folder 365, Message File. 

75. Momyer, Air Power in Three Wars, 304-306. 

76. MG. John R. Chaison [USMC] has argued that the USAF’s sortie rate 

was poor by comparison with that of I MAW’s aircraft and that the NVA artillery 

may have been dispersed rather than destroyed. Interview (19 November 

1969), USMC Oral History Collection, US Marine Corps Historical Center, 

Washington, DC 

77. General Hamilton H. Howze, head of the 1962 Army Tactical Mobility 

Requirements Board may have summed up part of the Army’s attitude to 

aviation in describing flying with the service in the 1950s: “Our accident rate 

was terrible . . . We took prudent measures to lessen accidents, but deemed it 

98 
very unwise to decrease the accident rate by lessening our exposure . . . we 

were experimenting with low-level flight maneuvers and rough terrain landing 

and takeoff techniques which, when they went slightly awry, would roll up an 

aircraft. Of course, an Army helicopter might land and take off twenty times 

as often as an Air Force jet, habitually flirting with the tree tops: and it is wellknown that accidents occur at low altitudes.” “The Howze Board,” Army, Vol. 

24 (February 1974), 10-11. 

99 
100
CHAPTER 4 

TACTICAL AIRLIFT IN VIETNAM 

From a comprehensive standpoint, the possession 

of organic aviation has increased the combat potential 

of Army ground units tremendously. According to Army 

sources, organic aviation assets multiplied friendly 

troop numbers. A few commanders considered their 

units—with helicopters—could carry out operations 

with the same effect as ground units, as much as fifteen 

times as large, but without aviation. Others believed 

six or eight to one, was a more realistic fi gure.1 

After Vietnam, it is difficult to talk about tactical airlift as a discrete subject— 

at least in the context of the United States. This is because the seemingly 

clear distinction between tactical airlift and close air support operations was 

complicated in South Vietnam by the US Army’s introduction of airmobility. 

Fundamentally, airmobility could be described as a developed 

form of tactical airlift—or more correctly, a developed form of “assault 

airlift.” Although the subject of debate, the Air Force had borne primary 

responsibility for this role, but in the years between 1962 and 1964, the 

Army had won the right to develop extensive organic aviation resources to 

provide its soldiers with the new form of mobility. Thus, a burgeoning area 

of tactical airlift had become a major Army—not Air Force—responsibility. 

For its newfound airmobility, Army units relied not only on organic 

helicopters, but also on a fl eet of Army fixed-wing light tactical transport 

aircraft. While the Air Force could perhaps tolerate large numbers of 

Army utility helicopters, the existence of the Army’s CV-2 Caribou light 

tactical transport aircraft was a much harder pill to swallow as it seemed 

to compete very closely with the Air Force’s own tactical transport force. 

The picture was further complicated by the fact that airmobility brought in 

its train new requirements for close air support, especially in the assault phase 

of airmobile operations, and the Army sought to fill this vacuum with its own 

organic helicopter gunships and fixed-wing AV-1 Mohawk close air support 

aircraft. Eventually, in South Vietnam, the Army even hung guns on most of its 

utility and transport helicopters. Thus, close air support in Vietnam is inextricably 

entwined with airmobility which itself is a developed form of tactical airlift. 

101 
In the early 1960s, United States Army aviation consisted of both a 

helicopter program and an extensive fixed-wing aircraft program. The 

objectives of the latter went far beyond the light aircraft that the Army had 

traditionally used for artillery observation and liaison purposes. Despite the 

increasing significance of helicopters, there were no indications that rotarywing aircraft would entirely supplant fixed-wing aircraft in the Army aviation 

inventory for the foreseeable future. Important Army fi xed-wing aircraft 

projects continued in the shape of the O/AV-1 Mohawk surveillance/close 

support aircraft and the CV-2 Caribou light tactical transport. Both the Army 

helicopter and fixed-wing programs competed with the Air Force for key 

airpower roles and missions, but while the Army’s helicopters are still with 

us, the service’s ambitious fixed-wing program did not survive the decade. 

The Vietnam War forced the developmental pace of both airpower 

doctrine and technology. The resulting hothouse atmosphere exacerbated 

existing differences between the US armed services over airpower roles 

and missions. By 1966, the dispute between the Army and the Air Force 

had become so emotive that it began to attract the attention of both the 

Secretary of Defense and Congress. This led to a series of talks on roles 

and missions between the Air Force and Army Chiefs of Staff from which 

there emerged a formal agreement between the services on 6 April 1966. 

In subscribing to this agreement, Army Chief of Staff, General Harold 

K. Johnson, wished to end the threat posed by Air Force opposition to 

the Army aviation program in general and to its helicopters in particular. 

To achieve this central objective General Johnson felt it necessary to 

give up the service’s CV-2 fixed-wing light tactical transport to the Air 

Force, but he hoped to do so in such a way as to have some prospect of 

retaining the special capabilities of these, and any follow-on replacement 

aircraft, at the disposal of the Army. Johnson also wished to placate 

conservative Army officers by curtailing some of the more ambitious, 

and therefore inflammatory, expectations of Army aviation proponents, 

particularly in regards their demands for the increasingly capable fixedwing aircraft that so clearly impinged on Air Force roles and capabilities. 

As a result of the talks with his opposite number—Air Force General 

John P. McConnell—General Johnson achieved his objective of securing the 

Army’s helicopter program for the future at the expense of surrendering the 

Army’s CV-2 transports to the Air Force. For his part, General McConnell 

established the Air Force’s exclusive right to operate fi xed-wing tactical 

transport aircraft at the cost of renouncing any further claims to helicopters.2 

The Air Force, however, was to renege on its promise—implicit 

in the McConnell-Johnson Agreement—to retain within its inventory 

102 
light tactical transports, like the CV-2, for the support of the Army. The 

service also acted contrary to the spirit of the agreement by applying 

to it a strict interpretation that permitted continued Air Force criticism 

of the Army’s helicopter program. However, Air Force protests were 

ineffective in halting the expansion of the Army’s helicopter force. 

The expansion of the Army helicopter program after the Korean War had 

already led to clashes between the Air Force and the Army over the latter 

service’s organic aviation. In the Air Force’s view, the Army had adopted the 

helicopter, not so much because of its unique capabilities—which the Air Force 

did not rate highly—but because the very novelty of rotary-wing technology 

made the helicopter an anomaly for which service responsibility was not yet 

clearly defined. Thus, Air Force officers feared that the Army was attempting 

to usurp established Air Force roles and missions by the “back door.” 

Combat experience in Vietnam stimulated the Army’s development 

of the armed helicopter. As early as autumn 1962, the Army’s 

disingenuously named Utility Tactical Transport Company began to 

experiment with helicopter gunships in Vietnam. These helicopters 

undertook what can only be described as close air support missions, a role 

from which Army aircraft were clearly excluded by established policy.3 

The Utility Tactical Transport Company flew armed versions of the 

UH-1 Iroquois (Huey) helicopter, as did the Air Cavalry companies in the 

Army’s ROAD divisions and the Aerial Rocket Artillery of the Army’s new 

airmobile division, the 1st Air Cavalry. The early UH-1 gunship helicopters 

originally used by the US Army in Vietnam were actually conversions of a 

utility helicopter not originally intended for the armed role. However, on 7 

September 1965, the Bell Helicopter Company flew the first prototype of a 

helicopter specifically designed to provide close air support: the AH-1 Cobra. 

During the Howze Board’s deliberations, Bell proposed the idea of developing 

such an aircraft quickly by mating the UH-1’s engines and drive train with 

a completely new airframe optimized for air-to-ground combat. The Howze 

Board recommended development of the AH-1 despite the fact that the Army 

had no official requirement for a dedicated “attack” helicopter. In this event, 

Bell built the AH-1 prototype as a private venture. On 11 March 1966, the 

Army announced that it would purchase large numbers of the new helicopter, 

the AH-1 becoming operational with the Army in Vietnam in November 1967.4 

Vietnam experience also generated an Army desire to arm its troopcarrying helicopters, a development which Secretary McNamara sanctioned 

on 11 September 1965.5 As we have seen, the Army had employed 

“gunship” helicopters for some years, but doubtless, both the Army and 

the Department of Defense were reluctant to aggravate Air Force roles and 

103 
missions sensitivities by extending the principle of armed Army aircraft still 

further without a more clearly demonstrable justifi cation. This development 

coincided with the beginning of airmobile operations in Vietnam by wholly 

US Army units rather than ARVN units supported by US Army helicopters.6 

While the Air Force opposed these developments, it did not confi ne its 

complaints about Army aviation solely to the use of helicopters. Some of the 

most serious disputes involved Army fixed-wing aircraft. In December 1963, 

Director of Army Aviation, General John J. Tolson, briefed Air Force Chief of 

Staff General Thomas D. White on the Army’s aviation program. During the 

briefing White warned that an Army-Air Force clash might occur over two 

of the Army’s fixed-wing aircraft: the O/AV-1 and the CV-2, because of their 

considerable size. In fact, while both aircraft did exceed, by considerable 

margins, the weight limit established for Army aircraft by Secretary of Defense 

Charles E. Wilson’s 1956 Roles and Missions memorandum, such weight 

restrictions had been subject to exemptions since the 1952 Pace-Finletter 

Agreement. Secretary Wilson had already specifically exempted both the 

CV-2 and the OV-1 from the theoretical 5,000-pound weight limit on Army 

fixed-wing aircraft at the time of the White briefing.7

 Other Air Force officers 

at the White briefing also expressed concern about the Army’s testing of jet 

fixed-wing aircraft for deep surveillance. Army Chief of Staff General George 

H. Decker closed the discussion with the warning that pressure existed within 

the Army for the service’s seizure of exclusive control of certain aviation 

functions, though Decker insisted that he personally was not of this mind.8 

The origins of the Army’s O/AV-1 program lay in an Army requirement for 

a long-range reconnaissance aircraft. Existing Army light observation aircraft 

were insufficiently capable for the role and the Army therefore experimented 

with a series of possible contenders including Air Force trainers: the pistonengine T-28 Trojan and the jet-powered T-37 Dragonfly, the Navy A-4 

Skyhawk and the Italian G-91 jet light strike aircraft. The latter two aircraft 

were, incidentally, also theoretically capable of carrying nuclear weapons. 

The jet aircraft incurred strong opposition from the Air Force and 

the Army eventually settled on the OV-1, a turbo-prop powered followon proposal for the same role, developed in association with the Marine 

Corps. While the OV-1 was originally conceived only as a reconnaissance 

aircraft, the Marines insisted that the design incorporate machine guns and 

weapons hard-points. After the Marines pulled out of the program, it proved 

cheaper to fare over the hard-points than design them out of the airframe. 

Thus, the Army inherited an aircraft that could be armed quite easily and 

from the outset those OV-1s serving in Vietnam were equipped with 0.50 

caliber machine guns, though these were to be used for self defense only.9 

104 
There is little evidence that the Army adopted the OV-1 as a way 

of securing a close air support capability by the back door—though a 

few Army officers clearly were attracted by the aircraft’s potential as a 

weapons platform. However, the existence of the aircraft’s self defensive 

armament, its long loiter time and its ability to carry a variety of other 

stores became a source of considerable frustration among the ground 

commanders. It seemed clear to the ground troops that the OV-1s, going 

about their surveillance tasks overhead, offered a close air support 

capability that was potentially much more responsive than that provided 

by Air Force aircraft. Yet, they were only permitted to use their weapons 

in self defense. Given the aircraft’s considerable attributes, the increasing 

use of the OV-1 in the close air support role was probably inevitable.10 

The Howze Board also seized upon the OV-1’s ability to carry weapons 

and included 24 copies of an armed variant, the AV-1, along with 36 armed 

UH-1B helicopters as “Aerial Rocket Artillery” in its proposed Air Assault 

Division.11 These aircraft were duly included in the experimental 11th Air 

Assault Division (Provisional). In the Howze conception then, organic 

Army close air support was to be provided by both helicopters (UH-1s 

later to be supplemented by AH-1 Cobras) and fi xed-wing aircraft (AV-1s). 

Many Army helicopter enthusiasts, including General Howze, saw 

the armed AV-1 merely as an interim measure pending the development 

of more capable rotary-wing attack aircraft. However, it is likely that the 

Army would have persevered with fixed-wing aircraft for organic close air 

support had it not encountered such strong opposition from the Air Force. 

The development of a truly dedicated attack helicopter was always going 

to be a long way in the future and, as we have seen, the Howze Board 

argued that both the UH-1B and the AV-1 should be replaced by a projected 

Surveillance Attack (SA) aircraft to which a number of 1960s aircraft 

research programs might contribute, including the British P-1127 jet, fixedwing, vertical take-off and landing (VTOL) aircraft.12 This suggests that 

it is likely the SA, as envisaged in the Howze Report, would have been a 

fixed-wing aircraft, especially given that its projected maximum speed of 

mach 0.9 was well beyond the capability of projected helicopter designs. 

In 1960, the Rogers Board took the decision to move to an all-helicopter 

force for the light observation role, but this incurred considerable criticism 

from many Army aviation proponents who favored the higher performance, 

lower complexity and cheapness of fixed-wing aircraft compared with 

helicopters.13 Obviously, the O/AV-1 did not have the performance of the 

Air Force’s favored multirole jet fighter-bombers, but the Air Force itself 

invalidated this criticism to some extent by operating its own low-performance 

Second World War vintage aircraft in South Vietnam between 1961 and 1965. 

105 
While it is probably true that most Air Force jet pilots had little desire 

to fly the slow and awkward-looking, turbo-prop powered OV-1, a number 

of their colleagues did enthusiastically fly the similar Air Commando 

T-28 Trojans, A-26 Invaders and A-1 Skyraiders. Air Force Chief of 

Staff General Curtis E. LeMay, however, pushed for the introduction 

into South Vietnam of the more sophisticated aircraft in the service’s 

inventory.14 It seemed only logical, therefore, that if the OV-1 remained 

unopposed, it would only be a matter of time before the Army graduated 

to more sophisticated fixed-wing aircraft of its own. As we have seen, 

the Army had already tested a number high-performance jet aircraft for 

the role filled by the OV-1 and Army pilots were participating in a trinational evaluation squadron’s tests of the British P-1127 VTOL aircraft. 

The Air Force’s lack of its own requirement for an armed helicopter 

tended to focus the service’s animosity on the armed OV-1. Armed 

helicopters posed a threat to Air Force roles and mission, but in the short 

term, they seemed a lesser one than the O/AV-1 because their performance 

appeared so poor when compared with the Air Force’s jet fi ghter-bombers. 

The O/AV-1, however, not only duplicated, Air Force roles and capabilities, 

it was actually a rather close relative of the types of low-performance 

aircraft the Air Force was obliged to operate in Vietnam before 1965. 

Such was the level of Air Force animosity toward the armed O/ 

AV-1 that the Army eventually decided to delete the armed contingent 

from its new airmobile division for fear that these aircraft would 

jeopardize the Army’s entire airmobility program and none were sent 

to South Vietnam when the 1st Air Cavalry (Airmobile) became the first 

Army “ground” combat unit ordered to that country in July 1965.15 

Apart from the O/AV-1, the other Army fixed-wing aircraft that was 

singled out for special criticism by the Air Force at General White’s December 

1963 briefing was the CV-2 light tactical transport. Large quantities of 

CV-2s supported the Army’s effort in Vietnam and it was to these aircraft 

that Air Force attention turned following the deletion of the Army’s AV-1. 

Experience with airborne forces in the Second World War had alerted 

the Army to the vulnerability of its all-wooden gliders. The Army, therefore, 

developed an all-metal glider that metamorphosed into the C-122 powered 

assault transport. Further refinements led to the C-123 Provider. However, 

as part of the agreement creating the independent air force, the Army had 

to buy its aircraft through the new service. Having no requirement of its 

own for an assault transport, the Air Force over-developed the C-123 into 

a much heavier replacement for its C-119 Flying Boxcar.16 Consequently, 

the Army claimed that the C-123 was unsuitable for the small, minimally 

106 
prepared airstrips from which the Army intended it to operate. The Army 

decided, therefore, to purchase the already-developed DHC-4 Caribou 

transport from DeHavilland Canada which it re-designated the CV-2. 

The Army-Air Force dispute over the employment of fi xed-wing tactical 

airlift in Vietnam appeared to revolve around the relative performances of 

the two services’ transport aircraft. These primarily technical issues obscured 

the fact that the services were most seriously at variance on matters of 

fundamental doctrine. Both the Army and the Air Force found evidence in 

their Vietnam experience to support their contending cases, but they were 

both trying to achieve different objectives and, as a consequence, spoke 

different languages, precluding effective interservice communication. Only 

the threat of Congressional and Department of Defense intervention contrived 

to force the service chiefs to seek a resolution of their ongoing differences. 

The Air Force maintained that for maximum efficiency all intratheater 

airlift assets should be centralized under its own control. In Vietnam, the Air 

Force sought to do this through its tactical airlift system known as the Southeast 

Asia Airlift System (SEAAS) that supported airlift requirements in South 

Vietnam and Thailand with directly assigned C-123 aircraft. At the request 

of Military Assistance Command Vietnam (MACV), these were regularly 

augmented by numbers of heavier C-130 Hercules transports from outside 

South Vietnam. Among the tactical airlift system’s tasks was the direct support 

of the US Army in the field in what were known as “assault airlift” operations.17 

Certain that the Air Force would not provide all the airlift requirements 

necessary for the support of its airmobile forces in the fi eld, the Army 

supplemented Air Force tactical airlift support in Vietnam with its own CV2s operating outside Air Force control. In the Air Force’s view, however, the 

Army’s CV-2s could not supplement the SEAAS because they represented 

a second, and therefore, by definition competing, tactical airlift system. In 

truth, the Air Force believed the very concept of an “assault transport” to be 

inherently inefficient. Events in South Vietnam confirmed this view to the 

Air Force’s satisfaction. The Air Force complained, for example, that around 

70% of theater airlift capacity, including the Army CV-2s, was operating on 

an “on-call” basis.18 The Air Force, however, preferred to operate a regular 

airlift service based on planned forecasts and believed that this would most 

efficiently be achieved with the larger Air Force transports alone. The Army 

CV-2s were therefore surplus to requirements, and in the Air Force view, 

the existence of this separate Army fixed-wing transport force should be 

dispensed with on operational grounds, quite apart from the demarcation issue. 

Army officers, however, were much less interested in running a scheduled 

airlift service. They argued that the CV-2 fleet improved the Army’s tactical 

107 
flexibility. Because the CV-2s were organic aircraft outside the Air Force’s 

airlift system they were, therefore, at the exclusive disposal of the Army. Also, 

the CV-2’s excellent short-field performance meant that it could operate into 

shorter, more austere tactical airstrips than could the Air Force’s transports. 

Establishing meaningful comparative performance figures for 

transport aircraft is difficult because of the large number of variables 

involved. Broadly speaking, Air Force intratheater transports 

could carry larger maximum payloads than the Army’s CV-2s, 

but the latter aircraft had better short- and soft-field performance. 

An average mission payload for the C-123B was approximately 

11,000 pounds compared with 6,000 pounds for the CV-2. The take-off 

rolls for these payloads were 4,670 and 1,200 feet, respectively. The later 

C-123K model had a considerably improved short-fi eld performance 

as a result of the installation of auxiliary jet engines, though at 2,800 

feet, this was still a good deal more runway than the CV-2 required.19 Of 

course, the Air Force could improve short-field performance for individual 

missions by flying with reduced payloads. Despite the differences in 

the performance of both aircraft, Air Force officers claimed that the 

Army’s operation of the CV-2 was a contravention of earlier demarcation 

agreements and a duplication of roles already carried out by the C-123.20 

The Air Force accepted that the CV-2 had a better short-fi eld performance 

than any of its own transports, but it criticized the aircraft’s small payload and 

it also argued that in South Vietnam, the CV-2 rarely operated from airstrips 

that could not accommodate the C-123. The Air Force was, however, obliged 

to admit its reluctance to use its own C-130 transports from the numerous 

Army tactical airstrips of 1,500 feet or less. The Air Force objected to using 

these austere airfields because of safety considerations, a lack of suitably 

qualified pilots and because they took a serious toll of the C-130s in terms 

of structural and maintenance problems. Furthermore, the Air Force disliked 

the reduced C-130 payloads required by operation into these tactical strips 

because of the concomitant reduction in airlift efficiency. Nevertheless, the 

Air Force did make an effort to improve the short-field performance of its 

aircraft while at the same time pressing the Army to build longer strips in the 

3,000-foot class, into which the C-130 could operate more comfortably.21 

Naturally, Army sources disagreed with the Air Force’s contention that 

their CV-2s rarely operated from strips that could not accommodate the C123. Army General Robert R. Williams estimated that at any one time, the 

CV-2 could operate from approximately four times as many fields in South 

Vietnam as the Air Force C-130 medium tactical transport, and twice as many 

fields as the Air Force C-123. General Johnson believed that judging from 

108 
his own experience, when flying in C-123s, “there were quite a number” 

of very rough and short strips in Vietnam where the Air Force crews either 

would not or could not land, though Army CV-2s did operate from them.22 

Also, the Army saw the small load of the CV-2 as a positive advantage. 

It meant that an “adequate” payload for the CV-2 was actually quite small, 

whereas the Air Force was reluctant to fly a C-130 sortie unless it carried what 

the Air Force saw as its (much larger) adequate payload and there was also the 

prospect of an appreciable return payload. Even the Air Force’s readiness to 

operate with a less than adequate payload increased with smaller aircraft, making 

them more ready to fly such missions with the C-123 and even more so with 

the C-7 (as CV-2s in Air Force service were designated) than with the C-130. 

The Air Force argued that all transport aircraft, including those of the 

South Vietnamese Air Force (VNAF) and the USA’s “third country” allies, 

should be incorporated into the tactical airlift system, but the Army refused to 

participate. Only the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF), which incidentally 

also operated DHC-4s (CV-2s) in South Vietnam, joined the US Air Force 

in SEAAS. The number of RAAF aircraft was small; usually about three 

to six DHC-4s at any one time, but an Air Force report of 1967 found that 

since January 1966, the utilization rate of Army CV-2s was “slightly less” 

than that of RAAF CV-2s serving with the Air Force tactical airlift system.23 

The argument over service responsibility for tactical air transport 

became increasingly charged with the dispatch of the 1st Cavalry 

Division to Vietnam in 1965 because of the airmobile unit’s operational 

reliance on an aerial line-of-communications. In the face of mounting 

Congressional criticism, and with Secretary McNamara about to 

intervene, the argument threatened to spill over into other areas of dispute 

between the Army and the Air Force over aviation roles and missions.24 

Both the feuding services had much to lose. The Army had its 

airmobility program and the Air Force its tactical air support roles. 

Unwilling to risk so much, the Chiefs of Staff of the Air Force and the 

Army, Generals McConnell and Johnson, respectively, agreed to hold 

a series of closed talks. On 6 April 1966, they reached a compromise 

agreement, to be implemented by the beginning of the new year. 

Under the terms of this agreement, the Army would surrender its fleet 

of approximately 160 CV-2s, plus a few examples of the follow-on CV-7 

Buffalo, to the Air Force and abstain from any further employment of organic 

fixed-wing tactical transports. In return, the Air Force would renounce 

its claims to responsibility for all helicopters operating in the intratheater 

movement, fire support and supply of Army forces roles.25 The Air Force 

would continue to operate helicopters in the search and rescue and special air 

109 
warfare roles and for administrative purposes. General McConnell promised 

that the Air Force would retain the CV-2 and CV-7 in its inventory and 

consult with the Army regarding changes in the number of these aircraft and 

their replacement. He also agreed that, where necessary, the Air Force would 

attach light tactical transport aircraft to Army units below the army level.26 

Naturally, General Johnson’s decision to give up the CV-2 to the Air Force 

aroused severe criticism amongst the Army’s organic aviation proponents. For 

example, after Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara had expressed to 

General Johnson a reluctance to fund “two tactical air forces,” the Chief of Staff 

had sought the opinion of Army aviation specialist Colonel Delbert Bristol as 

to whether the Army really needed its own “air force.” Bristol’s attitude was 

not untypical within the Army aviation fraternity. He replied that he did not 

think the independent air force should have been created in the first place and 

that he believed the Army should have both its own tactical transport aircraft 

and its own close air support aircraft. Following the signing of the McConnellJohnson Agreement, Colonel Bristol went so far as to write a personal letter 

to McNamara in an effort to stop the CV-2 transfer to the Air Force, an 

action which led to calls from some quarters for the Colonel’s resignation.27 

General Johnson had two reasons for handing over the Army’s CV2s to the Air Force. First, the Army was already experiencing diffi culty in 

securing replacement CV-2s and Johnson believed that this was because 

the Office of the Secretary of Defense already accepted the Air Force’s 

view that its own C-130 Hercules transport aircraft could best fulfi ll the 

intratheater airlift requirements of both services. He therefore decided 

that it was better to trade the Army’s CV-2s in return for concessions 

from the Air Force regarding the Army’s use of the helicopter, rather 

than risk losing the CV-2 by Secretary McNamara’s executive decision. 

Johnson’s other reason for trading the CV-2, and one that he must 

have been much more reluctant to share with colleagues at the time, 

was to curtail the ambitions of those very people within the Army who 

complained so bitterly about its loss: the service’s aviation proponents. He 

subsequently acknowledged that the Army was “clearly . . . overlapping 

the role of the Air Force . . .” by procuring increasingly capable 

airplanes and it was this process that he sought to halt by surrendering 

the CV-2, at least as far as fixed-wing aircraft were concerned.28 

In negotiating about the future of the Army’s CV-2s with his opposite number, 

Air Force General McConnell sought to re-establish the principle that his service 

bore sole responsibility for the operation of fixed-wing aircraft. McConnell 

also desired to assert the basic Air Force tenet that all air power assets should 

be centralized under its control. In the Air Force’s view, all tactical transports 

110 
in Southeast Asia, including the CV-2, must be brought into the service’s 

tactical airlift system and flown by its own pilots and not those of the Army. 

The Air Force achieved the first of these objectives as the McConnellJohnson Agreement mandated the transfer of the CV-2s from the 

Army, effective from the beginning of 1967. It was less successful 

with its second objective in that the McConnell-Johnson Agreement 

was a compromise that preserved some vestige of dedicated support 

for the ground forces by Air Force CV-2s, now re-designated C-7s. 

Despite General McConnell’s promise to detach C-7s for dedicated 

use by Army units, however, the Commander of the 7th Air Force General 

William W. Momyer attempted to bring the aircraft into the tactical airlift 

system following their acquisition by the Air Force. This was a direct 

contravention of the McConnell-Johnson Agreement and only after 

Army protests was the Air Force obliged to accept a compromise form of 

“dedicated airlift.” Under this arrangement, the C-7s were concentrated 

in three fixed bases where they were under the nominal control of the 

tactical airlift system, but ground commands could request dedicated C-7 

support on a daily basis by specifying their mission requirements. 7th Air 

Force would then allot “dedicated” C-7s to be managed by the ground 

command concerned, subject to diversion in the event of MACV declared 

emergencies.29 US Army Divisional Headquarters; Headquarters US Army, 

Vietnam (USARV); the Special Forces and corps headquarters (including 

the Marines) were the main requestors of such dedicated airlift; with the 

supported forces usually receiving between five and ten aircraft daily. 

According to Johnson, these arrangements were “largely satisfactory to the 

Army, although there were some complaints.”30 Certainly, the C-7 utilization 

rate did increase after January 1967 and some ground commanders praised 

the Air Force’s use of the aircraft over that by the Army. However, other Army 

officers argued that not only had demands on the air transport system risen since 

1966, but the exclusive availability of the C-7 to the Army had actually fallen, 

leading to a compensatory increase in the utilization rate of the Army’s CH47 Chinook medium lift helicopters which were more expensive to operate.31 

Furthermore, the Army claimed that the transfer of the CV-2s to 

the Air Force proved that its own decentralized aviation system was 

inherently more efficient than the Air Force’s centralized one. According 

to the Army, it simply plugged its aircraft into its existing logistics 

system, whereas the centralized Air Force system involved a whole new 

logistical layer to accommodate the C-7s. The end result was that the 

Air Force required considerably more personnel to operate the same 

number of C-7s for the same mission than the Army. This naturally 

meant that the Air Force organization also required more senior officers.32 

111 
Support of ground forces by dedicated airlift elements remained 

deeply unpopular within the Air Force even after the McConnell-Johnson 

Agreement had given it a measure of official endorsement. Air Force 

officers never abandoned the long-term project of fully integrating the C7 force into the tactical airlift system. Immediately, the Air Force assumed 

overall responsibility for the C-7s, it allotted a few of the aircraft directly 

to the tactical airlift system and 7th Air Force officers, assisted, after 1968, 

by the withdrawal of Army units from South Vietnam, contrived gradually 

to increase this number.33 By mid-1971, C-7s operating wholly within the 

tactical airlift system were involved in more than 50% of the total number of 

missions flown by the aircraft. Thus, there was some truth in Army claims that 

the number of C-7s available for dedicated use by Army commands declined. 

While General Johnson may have been broadly happy with the 

performance of the C-7 in Air Force hands, he was much less so with the Air 

Force approach to the very principle of retaining afleet of light tactical transport 

aircraft for the dedicated support of ground units.34 Though he probably could 

have predicted as much, it proved no easier to secure C-7 replacements for 

attrition losses after the agreement than it had done before it. Nor did it prove 

possible to arrange for the replacement of the C-7 by a follow-on aircraft. 

The Air Force did keep a measure of faith with the Army in General 

McConnell’s promise to retain within its inventory light tactical transports 

for dedicated use by the ground forces, and by requesting replacement C7s and follow-on aircraft in the same class. Given Air Force opposition 

to the very concept of dedicated use, and 7th Air Force’s efforts in 

Vietnam to reduce the number of C-7s available for such operations, 

these requests were, however, never much more than half hearted. 

A joint US Army Vietnam-7th Air Force review of C-7 operations in 

support of the Army did propose an increase in C-7 numbers in April 1968. The 

review team included Army General Robert R. Williams and found the current 

C-7 force insufficient to allocate the number of available aircraft envisaged by 

priorities established in June 1967. Although the fleet was supposed to produce 

as many as 60 available aircraft per day, there were actually only 51.7 C-7s 

available per day in June 1967 and attrition had reduced this to 48.4 aircraft 

per day by February 1968. The reviewers noted that Air Force attempts to 

make the most efficient use of the remaining C-7s were contrary to the spirit 

of providing aircraft to the ground commanders for their dedicated use and 

recommended an increase in the number of C-7 squadrons from six to nine.35 

Generals Momyer and Westmoreland approved the review’s 

recommendations with the latter pointing out that demands for the C-7’s 

services, or those of some similar follow-on aircraft, were actually rising.36 

112 
McConnell responded by pointing out that it was unlikely funds for 

further C-7s would become available, though the Office of the Secretary 

of Defense had approved the procurement of additional C-130s. Beyond 

that, the Air Force was now concentrating its efforts on a Light Intratheater 

Transport (LIT) and McConnell told Momyer that he believed that the 

Air Force was pursuing the best course with regard to tactical airlift.37 

McConnell’s replacement as Air Force Chief of Staff, General John Ryan, 

wrote to Westmoreland, now Army Chief of Staff, in August 1969 expressing 

concern about the attrition to the dedicated airlift force, particularly as it affected 

Vietnam, but complained that the Air Force could not secure funds for more C7s from the Office of the Secretary of Defense. This was possibly because “the 

OSD staff has not recognized dedicated airlift as a special aspect of the tactical 

airlift mission.” If the Army wanted more dedicated airlift, said Ryan, it must 

support Air Force requests to OSD with a better justification for the role.38 

The Air Force had long regarded small tactical transports in the C7 class as inefficient. This view was reinforced by an Air Force Offi ce of 

Operational Analysis study in the summer of 1969 which showed that 75% 

of C-7 sorties in South Vietnam were still being flown between airfi elds of 

2,500 feet or longer. This suggested the Air Force claim that most of the 

work done by C-7s could be done more efficiently by C-123s and perhaps 

even C-130s remained valid.39 As the Air Force shifted more C-7s away 

from dedicated use missions in Southeast Asia, the requirement for aircraft 

of the same class declined ever further in the service’s list of priorities. 

The very existence of such an ambitious Army aviation program in the early 

1960s was, in itself, testimony to the intense rivalry between the Army and the 

Air Force over air roles and missions. This rivalry spilled over into the Vietnam 

War itself in the areas of close air support and tactical airlift. These particular 

disputes concealed the deeper fundamental doctrinal differences between the 

two services over centralized versus devolved control of airpower assets. 

In the early days of the war, the O/AV-1 was the main focus of Air 

Force animosity towards Army aviation. Clearly, some of the uses to which 

the Army put its OV-1 aircraft in Vietnam did impinge on roles that were 

officially the responsibility of the Air Force. This development persisted 

with the Army’s decision to use the AV-1 as Aerial Rocket Artillery in the 

airmobile divisions and the extent of Air Force opposition to the project 

convinced Army Chief of Staff General Johnson to abandon the armed AV-1 

as part of a compromise designed to preserve the Army’s airmobility program. 

However, when the Army removed the AV-1 from its inventory, Air 

Force attention shifted to the CV-2 light tactical transport. Eventually, 

the dispute between the two services over this particular aircraft 

113 
threatened aspects of the aviation programs the services were unprepared 

to risk. The Army’s entire organic airmobility program would surely 

founder without the helicopter, but it might survive the loss of fixedwing aircraft. General Johnson was, therefore, prepared to sacrifi ce the 

CV-2 for the principle of continued helicopter operation by the Army. 

For his part, Air Force Chief of Staff General McConnell sought to 

re-establish the principle that the Air Force, not the Army, had exclusive 

responsibility for the tactical airlift role. If successfully achieved, this 

would necessarily make the Air Force responsible for the CV-2 and its 

possible successors. General McConnell realized that the cost of such an 

agreement would be the Air Force’s renunciation of rotary-wing aircraft 

for most roles. Despite the severity of Air Force opposition to Army 

helicopters, this was, in some ways, relatively easy for an Air Force that 

had never been attracted to rotary-wing aircraft, and in any case, the battle 

against the general principle of Army helicopter operation had already been 

effectively lost in Vietnam. The resulting McConnell-Johnson Agreement 

of 1966 may have been, in part, prompted by the exigencies of combat in 

Vietnam, but the threat to individual service programs and budgets posed 

by the imminent prospect of Congressional and Department of Defense 

investigation loomed as large. Generals McConnell and Johnson were 

doubtless also eager to reach a decision before the issue came before 

the full Joint Chiefs, where the Navy and Marines would have a say. 

Not only did the Army surrender its CV-2 fleet to the Air Force, 

but it also found that the consultative role—regarding fi xed-wing light 

tactical transport aircraft—clearly specified in the McConnell-Johnson 

Agreement—was a dead letter. The Air Force, having secured control 

of the CV-2, was less than true to the spirit of the April 1966 agreement. 

It nibbled away at the “dedicated use,” tactical airlift fl eet, gradually 

absorbing the C-7s into its own tactical airlift system and allowing the 

light tactical transport role to languish, first by failing to provide attrition 

replacements and then by refusing to procure a follow-on aircraft. 

In truth, there was genuine Congressional and OSD reluctance to 

provide the funds necessary for additional light tactical transports, but in 

any case, the Air Force preferred to emphasize the C-130 medium tactical 

transport, the B-1 strategic bomber and fi ghter production. The Air Force 

abandoned development of the follow-on LIT tactical transport in 1970, 

and OSD rejection in 1971 of an Air Force request for four squadrons of an 

“interim STOL” transport effectively terminated the light tactical transport 

role in the service.40 The Air Force eventually handed over its few examples 

of the CV-7 Buffalo (C-8 in Air Force parlance) to the National Aeronautics 

114 
and Space Administration.41 Whatever the reason for the disappearance of 

the light tactical transport, most Air Force officers found its demise infinitely 

preferable to continued frustration over the Army’s handling of the aircraft. 

In part, these developments were driven by the military situation in 

South Vietnam itself. It was only the actual combat use in Vietnam of light 

tactical transports by the Army that had induced the Air Force to take any 

interest in the role in the first place, but after 1968, the United States was 

withdrawing from Southeast Asia, and with the war winding down, the 

requirement for this type of aircraft’s use in South Vietnam was declining 

along with budgetary support for new military aircraft projects. Nevertheless, 

an Army requirement for a new light tactical transport still existed. Even in 

the absence of war in Vietnam, and the failure to secure the interim STOL 

transport program can hardly have come as a bitter blow to an Air Force that 

never wholeheartedly embraced the light tactical transport role. Instead, 

the run down of the war provided the Air Force with a not unwelcome 

opportunity to concentrate on projects more closely attuned to its self image. 

Without the services of its own CV-2s, the Army in Vietnam was 

forced to rely on the Air Force centralized air transport system and this 

did not entirely meet its tactical needs. Consequently, the service was 

obliged to think increasingly in terms of rotary-wing aircraft for all its 

organic transport requirements. In this way, the McConnell-Johnson 

Agreement may be said to have produced an arbitrary “solution” to the 

interservice dispute over the tactical airlift role, causing the employment 

of helicopters in Army roles for which fixed-wing aircraft might have 

been better suited. As a further consequence of the McConnell-Johnson 

Agreement, the Army may have felt similarly inclined to use helicopters 

in close air support tasks for which fixed-wing aircraft might actually have 

been more suitable. Close air support forms the subject of the next chapter. 

115 
NOTES 

1. Ernie S. Montagliani, Army Aviation in RVN – A Case Study – Special 

Report (Contemporary Historical Evaluation of Current Operations [CHECO] 

Report, 11 July 1970), US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell 

AFB., AL. (hereinafter referred to as AFHRA), K717.0413-75, 61-62. 

2. Agreement Between Chief of Staff, U.S. Army, and Chief of Staff, U.S. 

Air Force, 6 April 1966, (The “McConnell-Johnson Agreement”), Miscellaneous 

Correspondence Box, AFHRA., K168.7085-33. 

3. George P. Seneff, LTG, Interview (1978), 36 & Robert R. Williams, 

LTG, Interview (1978), tape 1, transcript 8, Senior Officer Oral History 

Program, US Army Military History Institute (hereinafter referred to as MHI), 

Carlisle Barracks, PA. 

4. Williams, ibid., tape 1, transcript, 9. 

5. Richard G. Davis, The 31 Initiatives: A Study in Air Force-Army 

Cooperation (Washington, DC: Office of Air Force History, 1987), 21. 

6. The US Army 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile) went into action in the 

Ia Drang Valley in October 1965. 

7. Memorandum of Understanding Relating to Army Organic Aviation (4 

November 1952) [The “1952 Pace-Finletter Agreement”] & Memorandum by 

the Secretary of Defense for the Members of the Armed Forces Policy Council, 

Subject: “Clarification of Roles and Missions to Improve the Effectiveness 

of Operation of the Department of Defense” (26 November 1956), Richard I 

Wolf, The United States Air Force, Basic Documents on Roles and Missions 

(Washington, DC, Office of Air Force History, 1987), 243-245 & 293-301. The 

basic unloaded operating weight of the CV-2 was 18,260 pounds. The empty 

weight of the OV-1 was 9,937 pounds. John W. R. Taylor, ed., Janes’ All the 

World’s Aircraft, 1967-68 (New York, 1967). 

8. John J. Tolson, Vietnam Studies, Airmobility (Washington, DC: 

Department of the Army, 1973), 10-14. 

9. Williams, op cit., tape 2, transcript, 33 & 35. 

10. Tolson, op cit., 40-44; Glenn O. Goodhand, BG., Interview (1978) 

Senior Officer Oral History Program, MHI, tape 1, transcript 73 & Williams, op 

cit., tape 2, transcript, 53. 

11. US Army Tactical Mobility Requirements Board, Final Report 

(hereinafter referred to as the “Howze Report”), (20 August 1962), US Army 

Center of Military History, Washington, DC, 36. 

12. According to LTG. George P. Seneff (who had commanded the 11th 

Aviation Group during the 1964 Air assault Tests and the 1st Aviation Brigade 

in Vietnam), he and his colleagues saw the armed OV-1 as an interim measure 

until more capable helicopter gunships became available. Seneff, op cit., 24. 

24. Col. Delbert Bristol, a former Director of Army Aviation with Vietnam 

service, agrees that the armed OV-1 was an interim measure until the rotary116 
wing Advanced Aerial Fire Support System came along. Delbert Bristol, Col., 

Interview (1978), Senior Officer Oral History Program, MHI, tape 1, transcript, 

64. Hamilton H. Howze, Gen., Interview (1977), Senior Officer Oral History 

Program, MHI, tape 1, transcript, 3 & “Howze Report,” 62a. 

13. Goodhand, op cit., tape 1, transcript, 71-72. 

14. At a meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff on 5 December 1961 Gen. 

LeMay recommended the deployment of extensive US combat forces to South 

Vietnam including an Air Force tactical fighter squadron, an Air Force tactical 

bomber squadron and a Marine air wing. This was less than one month after the 

deployment of the Air Force Air Commandoes to Vietnam with their Second 

World War vintage aircraft. Robert F. Futrell, The United States Air Force in 

Southeast Asia, the Advisory Years to 1965 (Washington, DC: Offi ce of Air 

Force History, 1981), 90. In a 1972 interview, LeMay explained that he preferred 

high-performance aircraft to the types used by the Air Commandoes for close 

air support. Although he thought the Air Commando aircraft performed well he 

believed they were too vulnerable to anti-aircraft fire. Curtis E. LeMay, Gen. 

(USAF), Interview (8 June 1972) USAF Oral History Collection, AFHRA, 

K239.0512-592. 

15. Tolson, op cit., 62 & Seneff, op cit., 23. According to J.D. Coleman, 

this was the result of a deal struck between Secretary of Defense Robert S. 

McNamara and the Air Force. J.D. Coleman, Pleiku, The Dawn of Helicopter 

Warfare in Vietnam (New York, 1988), 31. 

16. This according to Gen. James Gavin. James Gavin, War and Peace in 

the Space Age (New York, 1958), 109-111. 

17. Bernell A. Whitaker & L.E. Paterson, “Assault Airlift Operations – Jan. 

1961-Jun. 1966,” CHECO Report (23 Feb. 1967), AFHRA, K717.0414-2, 66. 

18. Ibid. 

19. Source for aircraft performance figures: Ray L. Bowers, The United 

States Air Force in Southeast Asia, Tactical Airlift (Washington, DC: Offi ce of 

Air Force History, 1983), 34. 

20. The Air Force had actually prepared to drop the C-123 from its inventory 

before Vietnam. Only a request by the Office of the Secretary of Defense that the 

Air Force turn over its surplus C-123s to the Army for training purposes stimulated 

the service’s rediscovery of a requirement for the transports. It is possible that 

had things had been left entirely to the Air Force the service might even have 

abandoned tactical transport aircraft entirely. In the 1950s, economic considerations 

predisposed the Air Force towards ever-larger transport aircraft and it was, in fact, 

only Army pressure that ensured the survival of the C-130 programme. Williams, 

op cit., tape 1, transcript, 3. 

21. Whitaker & Paterson, op cit., 55-59 & 98-104. 

22. Harold K. Johnson, Gen., Interview (1972-1973), Senior Offi cer Oral 

History Program, MHI, Vol. III, Tape 12, transcript, 34. 

23. Whitaker & Paterson, op cit., 45 & 98-104. 

24. Douglas Kinnard, The War Managers (Hanover, NH., 1977), 60. 

117 
25. CV-7 was the US Army designation for the DeHavilland, Canada DHC5, a higher performance development of the Caribou. Despite a very successful 

evaluation the Army was obliged to cancel orders for the CV-7 after the delivery of 

only four aircraft. 

26. The “McConnell-Johnson Agreement.” 

27. “Two tactical air forces” are Bristol’s own words. Bristol, op cit., tape 

1, transcript, 56 & 60-61. 

28. Johnson, op cit., Vol. III, tape 12, transcript, 35-36. 

29. Bowers, op cit., 358-359. 

30. Johnson, op cit., Vol. III, tape 12, transcript, 36. 

31. Seneff, op cit., 33 & Kinnard, op cit, 17. 

32. This report came to the attention of Congress resulting in some 

criticism of the Army. Williams, op cit., 4-5. 

33. Bowers, op cit., 353 & 366-367. 

34. Johnson, op cit., tape 12, transcript, 36. 

35. Burl W. McLaughlin, BG (USAF) & Robert R. Williams, MG 

(USA), “Review of Air Force C-7A Operations in Support of the Army,” (18 

April 1968), Ryan Collection, Miscellaneous Correspondence Box, AFHRA, 

K168.7085-33. 

36. Westmoreland to Sharp (n.d). & Momyer to McConnell (3 May 1968), 

Ryan Collection, Miscellaneous correspondence Box, AFHRA, K168.7085-33 

37. McConnell to Momyer (1 June 1968), Miscellaneous Correspondence 

Box, AFHRA, K168.7085-33. 

38. Ryan to Westmoreland (1 August 1969), Ryan Collection, Miscellaneous 

Correspondence Box, AFHRA, K168.7085-33. 

39. Bowers, op cit, 525. 

40. Ibid., 650-651. 

41. Johnson complained to the House Armed Services Committee about the 

Air Force’s reluctance to buy more C-7s, or its more capable successor the C-8, 

to support the Army. John Schlight, The United States Air Force in Southeast 

Asia, The War in South Vietnam, The Years of the Offensive: 1965-1968 

(Washington, DC, 1988), 123-127, 237-239 & Tolson, op cit., 104-107. 

118 
CHAPTER 5 

CLOSE AIR SUPPORT IN VIETNAM 

They [Army officers] were reluctant to be drawn into 

a comparison of close air support (CAS) by USAF 

tactical fighters versus CFS [Close Fire Support] by 

the gunships, with statements to the effect that it was 

as if one were trying to compare ‘apples and oranges.’1 

As we have seen, the 1962 US Army Tactical Mobility Requirements 

(Howze) Board put forward the view that the Army should have exclusive 

responsibility for “special”—or “counterinsurgency”—operations, including 

any related aerial fire-support.2

 In doing so, the Board contributed to an 

ongoing debate between the United States armed services on this issue.3 

The Army claimed primacy in counterinsurgency operations, and as the war 

in South Vietnam appeared to fall into this category—at least until about 

1964 or 1965—this suggested to some Army officers that there was no 

requirement for an Air Force presence in the country. However, the Army 

did not formally win the argument because, as we have seen, the US Military 

Assistance Advisory Group Vietnam (MAAG Vietnam) and its successor the 

Military Assistance Command Vietnam (MACV) were constituted as unified 

commands in which all three services were theoretically equally represented. 

Nevertheless, the Army did dominate both MAAG Vietnam and MACV, 

and indeed, early United States participation in the Vietnam War was almost 

entirely an Army affair. 

However, while dedicated to the primacy of strategic air warfare, the 

senior Air Force leadership was unable to ignore the increasing emphasis of 

the Kennedy administration on “wars of national liberation.” The Air Force, 

therefore, sought to cash in on the Vietnam conflict’s growing potential for 

prestige and budgetary largesse by carving out a role for itself in Southeast 

Asia. Ideally, this would involve a strategic campaign against North Vietnam, 

but in 1961, in the absence of the necessary political will, the Air Force 

settled for a return to the tactical airpower business in South Vietnam, while 

keeping its strategic options open. 

Once the Air Force had secured the principle of its participation in 

Vietnam, the stage was set for a direct confrontation between the services as 

both deployed their own forces for close air support and tactical airlift. These 

separate air forces were the subject of acrimonious dispute, but—at least in 

the short term—it does not seem that the Army wished to supplant the Air 

119 
Force entirely in its traditional tactical roles. Rather, the Army wished to 

stake out an area of organic air support, both fixed- and rotary-wing, which 

would be more responsive to its needs than that provided by the Air Force, but 

which could be augmented by heavier Air Force assistance when required. 

Limited, though they may have been in the short term, there is no doubt 

that the Army aviation’s designs did impinge on formally established Air 

Force roles and missions, and they also ran counter to Air Force doctrine 

regarding the centralization of airpower assets under Air Force control. 

Thus, Army-Air Force technical arguments over the relative short-field 

performance of their respective tactical transports and the responsiveness of 

their respective close air support aircraft in South Vietnam disguised more 

fundamental doctrinal differences. 

The interservice debate between the Army and the Air Force over roles 

and missions became so bitter and so visible in South Vietnam that the service 

chiefs sought compromise so the dispute did not spiral out of control with 

consequent serious damage for both services’ aviation programs and budgets. 

Early attempts to reach such a compromise achieved only limited success 

because the doctrinal differences between the two services meant that they 

were trying to solve their problems without a common language. Indeed, 

the Army and the Air Force never resolved their basic doctrinal differences 

during the Vietnam period. However, they did eventually come to carve out 

discrete service aviation fiefdoms, support the parallel development of each 

other’s aviation programs (whether they overlapped or not) and develop 

practical working relationships for joint operations in the field. 

Only grudgingly did the Air Force come to accept the Army’s right to 

operate its own rotary-wing close air support. It finally did so under the 

formulation that this support was actually of a different kind to that provided 

by the Air Force with which it was actually compatible. 

The Air Force continually lost ground to the Army over the issue of 

the latter’s helicopters in Vietnam. First, the Air Force accepted the Army’s 

use of helicopters in the troop transport role; then it accepted the principle 

of helicopter escorts. Next, Air Force officers found themselves trying to 

prevent the expansion of the Army’s use of armed helicopters beyond the 

assault phase of airmobile operations. 

The 2d Air Division made a number of complaints to the commander of 

MACV, General Paul D. Harkins much like that of 26 July 1963 which cited 

three incidents where Army helicopters had operated “offensively.” The Air 

Force complained that this seemed an expansion of the Army’s directive on 

the use of armed helicopters “to include interdiction and close air support 

missions.” Furthermore, 2d Air Division surmised that requests for air 

120 
support were being met by Army aircraft rather than passed on to the Air 

Force. The General was unmoved; he referred 2d Air Division to the senior 

American advisors with the ARVN divisions through the medium of their 

Air Force Air Liaison Officers (ALOs) because, according to Harkins, the 

ground commander had ultimate responsibility in these matters.4

 Harkins’s 

replacement, General William C. Westmoreland, confi rms that American 

advisers with ARVN units preferred to request close air support from US 

Army helicopters because their response times were faster than those of US 

Air Force and Vietnamese Air Force aircraft.5 

This pattern persisted despite Air Force protests. Then, in the McConnellJohnson Agreement of 1966, the Air Force accepted the Army’s right to 

operate helicopters in the fire-support role. Towards the end of the decade, 

the Air Force was acknowledging the fact of the parallel employment of 

both its and the Army’s aircraft in close air support roles as a function of the 

different types of support performed by both services. 

The United States air effort in Vietnam was fought in two parallel 

campaigns: one over South Vietnam in support of the war on the ground and 

the other over the territory of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRV) 

in the north. Despite the backwardness of Vietnam, the DRV eventually 

confronted United States forces over the north with the most sophisticated 

air defenses ever encountered in battle up to that time. 

In contrast to this dense network of guns, missiles, radars, and jet 

interceptors, Communist air defenses in the South Vietnam were far more 

primitive. In the early days of American involvement in Vietnam, the Army 

frequently found itself with more aircraft in the country than the Air Force, 

while initially the Air Force exhibited more interest in applying its full 

strength to strategic air operations against the north rather than to tactical 

air operations in the south. This proved a very satisfactory situation for the 

Army and the service continued to cite the permissiveness of the air defense 

environment over the South Vietnam as a justification for the maintenance of 

its virtual monopoly of US airpower responsibilities in the country. 

By the end of 1961, there were more than 3,000 American advisors — 

mainly US Army personnel—in South Vietnam, including US Army Special 

Forces troops (Green Berets) and two US Army helicopter companies which 

provided the ARVN with a measure of airmobility, including the transport of 

troops directly into combat. The arrival of the helicopter companies meant 

that the US Army had, not for the last time, more aircraft in South Vietnam 

than the Air Force. 

However, despite his and his service’s traditional preoccupation with 

strategic air warfare, Air Force Chief of Staff, General Curtis E. LeMay, 

121 
had become increasingly concerned about the lack of Air Force capability 

in sub-limited wars as early as the mid-1950s. It was clear to LeMay that 

the Army’s virtual monopoly of the low-intensity confl ict in Vietnam 

might deprive the Air Force of valuable opportunities likely to accrue from 

significant participation in the war. Mindful of the emphasis on low-intensity 

warfare in the Kennedy administration’s policy of “flexible response,” it was 

at LeMay’s initiative that the Air Force began the development of a unit for 

the prosecution of counterinsurgency—or in Air Force parlance—”Special 

Air Warfare” operations.6 

Under the code name JUNGLE JIM, the 4400th Combat Crew Training 

Squadron was established in April 1961. Among the 4400 CCTS’s tasks were 

the development of counterinsurgency tactics and hardware and—as the 

name suggests—the training of third country air forces in these techniques. 

Despite its innocuous official designation, the 4400 CCTS was developed 

from the start with a combat role in mind, a fact indicated by its informal 

title: “Air Commandos.”7 

In a National Security Action Memorandum of May of 1961, the Kennedy 

administration asked the armed services to develop forces and techniques 

for the specific purpose of conducting counterinsurgency operations and the 

4400 CCTS seemed to fit the bill perfectly.8

 On 5 September 1961, Secretary 

of Defense Robert S. McNamara informed the armed services that he 

intended to establish an experimental counterinsurgency combat laboratory 

in South Vietnam. Clearly, the Air Force had developed the 4400 CCTS with 

the Vietnam conflict in mind and LeMay, naturally, recommended to Air 

Force Secretary Eugene M. Zuckert the deployment to Southeast Asia of 

a detachment of the Air Commandos. Zuckert, in turn, recommended this 

to McNamara. After the Joint Chiefs of Staff had agreed to the proposal, 

McNamara put it to Kennedy who approved the deployment on 11 October 

1961 of a detachment from the 4400 CCTS to Bien Hoa in South Vietnam 

under the code name FARM GATE.9 

LeMay, like most of his Air Force colleagues, believed that once the 

United States was committed to a conflict, the service should apply maximum 

force to it. However, in 1961, the United States was not quite wholeheartedly 

committed to the war in South Vietnam. Officially, the United States’ role 

remained advisory and President Kennedy reserved the right to withdraw 

from the confl ict if he judged the moment propitious. The nature of the Air 

Commandos’ equipment, and confusion about their mission, refl ected the 

ambiguity of the American relationship with South Vietnam at this stage of 

the war. 

122 
Sporting jaunty bush hats and carrying M-16 assault rifles onboard their 

aircraft, the Air Commandos were, by virtue of their selection and training, 

an elite unit, but their equipment was not at the cutting- edge of military 

aviation technology. It was selected with a view to ease of operation and 

maintenance under austere conditions by third -world air forces like that 

of South Vietnam, which the 4400 CCTS element was supposed to train. 

This fact also complied with the United States government’s reluctance to 

use jets in South Vietnam because the South Vietnamese Air Force (VNAF) 

was specifically forbidden to use them under the terms of the 1954 Geneva 

Agreement.10 Thus, the 4400 CCTS was equipped entirely with piston-engine 

aircraft: an armed version of the T-28 Trojan trainer, the Second World War 

vintage A-26 Invader attack aircraft and the C-47 Skytrain transport. Later, 

structural problems with the T-28s and A-26s necessitated their replacement 

by the more powerful piston-engine A-1 Skyraider that also served with the 

VNAF. The US Air Force hoped that these low-performance aircraft would 

not be unduly vulnerable in the primitive air defense environment found in 

low-intensity warfare. 

Despite an assertion by President Kennedy that FARM GATE was to 

fulfill an exclusively advisory and training role, the Air Commandos were soon 

engaged in clandestine combat missions. On 4 December 1961, Secretary of 

Defense, Robert S. McNamara, agreed to the use of Air Commando aircraft 

on combat missions provided at least one member of the crew was South 

Vietnamese.11 Thus, the 4400 CCTS joined the South Vietnamese Air Force 

in providing air support to the country’s ground forces (and their American 

advisors), and although their aircraft were painted with VNAF markings, the 

4400th became the first United States Air Force unit to fly combat missions 

in South Vietnam. 

As the only Air Force unit in South Vietnam equipped with attack aircraft, 

the 4400 CCTS was, technically, the only United States unit permitted by 

established policy to provide close air support to ground forces.12 However, 

the loss of a number of transport helicopters stimulated the US Army’s 

adoption of its own organic air support in Vietnam. As we have seen, as early 

as autumn 1962, the Army’s Utility Tactical Transport Company had begun 

to experiment with armed helicopters in Vietnam. Flying an armed version 

of the UH-1 Iroquois (Huey), the UTTC developed techniques for the escort 

of transport helicopters and the suppression of enemy fire in the landing 

zones. An Army Concept Team in Vietnam (ACTIV), established to study the 

application of the Army Tactical Mobility Requirements (Howze) Board’s 

Report on airmobility to Southeast Asia, undertook further experimentation 

with helicopter gunships in South Vietnam. 

123 
The existence of an independent Army close air support capability in 

Vietnam was to be a point of contention between the services throughout 

the war. Air Force officers believed it represented an inefficient duplication 

of their own service’s tactical air power and a contravention of their key 

doctrinal tenet of the centralization of all air power assets under Air Force 

control. Not surprisingly then, the appearance of Army helicopter gunships 

in South Vietnam led to early calls by the commander of the 2d Air Division, 

General Rollen H. Anthis, for the placing of Army helicopters under Air Force 

control. Anthis claimed this was not so much to dictate the manner of their 

use by the Army, but to provide better support for airmobile operations and 

increase coordination between Army helicopters and Air Force fixed-wing 

fighter-bombers. The Army refused, on the grounds that whatever Anthis’s 

real intentions, the practical effect of his proposal would be the loss of any 

advantages accruing from the organic nature of these Army aviation assets. 

The Commander of MACV (COMUSMACV), General Paul D. Harkins, did 

not uphold Anthis’s request, but in August 1962, he did direct the escort of all 

helicopter assaults by fixed-wing aircraft and ordered that enemy defenses 

be suppressed by concentrated air attack before any landings took place.13 

Obliged to recognize the Army’s new helicopter escort mission in 

Vietnam, the 2d Air Division sought to restrict it by continuing efforts to 

bring it under at least a limited form of Air Force control. Air Force officers 

argued that because of their lower approach speeds and altitudes, helicopters 

were more vulnerable than conventional fixed-wing paratroop transports, 

and fixed-wing air support was, therefore, even more important in airmobile 

than in airborne operations. They also argued that the crowded airspace over 

helicopter landing zones increased the requirement for centralized control. 

Consequently, on 27 December 1962, General Anthis announced that 

Air Force fixed-wing aircraft would guarantee the security of helicopter 

troop transports until one minute before touchdown, when responsibility 

would pass to the armed helicopters. Authority for the dispatch of the armed 

helicopters against targets en route to the landing zone would lie with the 

fi xed-wing pilots.14 This system corresponded closely with Second World 

War airborne practice where the Army Air Forces were responsible for the 

security of Army airborne troops until they were actually on the ground. 

Not surprisingly, the Army disagreed with the system, not least because it 

precluded helicopter assaults in the absence of fixed-wing fi ghter cover.15 

Air Force officers felt they had secured decisive proof of the urgent need 

for fi xed-wing air support of helicopter-borne assaults and better Army-Air 

Force coordination in the Battle of Ap Bac which took place in January 

1963. At Ap Bac the commander of the ARVN 7th Division and his US 

124 
Army adviser, Colonel John P. Vann, decided to go ahead with an airmobile 

assault in the absence of Air Force fixed-wing air support, using only Army 

helicopters to suppress the ground defenses. The result was the loss of 

five helicopters: the largest number shot down in a single action since the 

beginning of the war. A further nine helicopters were damaged. 

As a consequence of Ap Bac, the Commander in Chief, Pacific 

(CINCPAC) Admiral Harry D. Felt, issued a directive that fi xed-wing aircraft 

support all future helicopter-borne assaults.16 The commander of ACTIV, 

Army General Edward L. Rowny, however, argued that the introduction of 

armed helicopter escorts appeared to resolve the problem of greater helicopter 

vulnerability that had accompanied increasing National Liberation Front 

familiarity with rotary-wing aircraft.17 Ultimately, Felt’s and the previous 

directives to the same effect by Harkins and Anthis were honored more in 

the breach than in practice. 

The Army had already rejected the T-28 in favor of the OV-1 for the 

long-range reconnaissance role. Compared with this, and the other FARM 

GATE aircraft, the OV-1 did not have a significantly lower performance. 

Indeed, it out-performed the equivalent Air Force aircraft in terms of 

maneuverability and short take-off and landing (STOL) capability, the latter 

attribute being particularly prized by an Army which wished to closely 

integrate its supporting aircraft with its ground forces in the field.18 

Along with the Air Force, the Army also had participated in the 

multiservice, fixed-wing, light-armed reconnaissance aircraft (LARA) 

program, for which the T-28 had once again been a contender. This was a 

specialized form of fixed-wing aircraft for the helicopter escort and forward 

air control (FAC) missions, whose role sounds suspiciously similar to that 

envisioned for the Army’s armed OV-1s. 

Long after the demise of the FARM GATE program, some Air Force 

officers, mainly ALOs with the ground forces and Forward Air Controllers 

(FACs), continued to believe in the value of low-performance, fixed-wing 

aircraft for quick response fire support of ground troops in Vietnam.19 Air 

Force FACs and ALOs often argued that their own service’s responsiveness 

to requests for immediate air support could be speeded considerably by 

arming the low-performance FAC aircraft themselves. This was precisely 

the kind of aircraft the Army had been developing in the early 1960s, but, 

from 1965, the Army was precluded from using them itself by a Department 

of Defense directive forbidding the arming of its fi xed-wing aircraft. 

The Army had, with some slight justification, described its armed UH1s and AV-1s in the air assault divisions as artillery as they did compensate 

for a genuine artillery shortfall brought about by the need to make airmobile 

125 
formations air transportable. However, the Air Force saw this form of words 

as a subterfuge designed to obscure the fact that these aircraft impinged on a 

role which was, technically, an exclusive Air Force responsibility—close air 

support—and in which the Air Force had an existing capability. Furthermore, 

the Air Force also opposed both types of aircraft on the grounds that they 

lacked the performance of the Air Force’s fi xed-wing, high-performance, 

multirole jets although, as we have seen, the Air Force itself used lowerperformance aircraft during its early days in Vietnam. 

Meanwhile, the Air Force at last enjoyed some success in its long 

quest for the combat use in Vietnam of more sophisticated aircraft from 

its inventory. Never very enthusiastic about the low-performance aircraft 

operated by the FARM GATE detachment, Air Force leaders had long been 

eager to illustrate the conclusive results they thought could be achieved in 

South Vietnam with more modern aircraft. Attempts to equip both the VNAF 

and the FARM GATE detachment with an armed version of the T-37 jet 

trainer amounted to nothing because the Department of Defense believed the 

South Vietnamese not yet capable of maintaining jet aircraft and because of 

the limitations imposed upon the VNAF by the 1954 Geneva Agreement, but 

the NLF attacks on Pleiku in February 1965 prompted a change of heart.20 

Washington now authorized strikes by B-57 tactical jet bombers that had 

been based in South Vietnam since the previous August. From this point, 

US Air Force ground attack aircraft began to operate in their own national 

markings and the US government revealed for the first time that American 

aircrews were flying combat missions against the NLF. The requirement 

for a South Vietnamese crewmember on ground attack missions was also 

dropped. With the build up of US forces during 1965, higher performance 

multirole fighter-bombers followed the B-57s. 

The absence of a clearly discernible front dictated that all Air Force 

close air support in South Vietnam took place under the guidance of airborne 

FACs orbiting the targets in slow, light aircraft. This reduced the risk of 

friendly and civilian casualties as a result of inaccurate air strikes. Close air 

support missions in South Vietnam comprised two types: “preplanned” and 

“immediate.” As the name suggests, preplanned missions were scheduled a 

day in advance, in what were known as fragmentary orders to strike specific 

targets in general support of the ground campaign. They did not necessarily 

involve troops in contact with the enemy though they were often fl own in 

support of specific ground maneuvers or air assaults which might be expected 

to encounter enemy resistance. They might be directed against known or 

suspected enemy positions, or designed to seal off access routes. Between 

1965 and 1968, approximately 70% of 7th Air Force strength was committed 

to preplanned missions with about 300 such sorties being flown each day. 

126 
Immediate missions were flown in direct response to requests for 

assistance from ground troops who were actually in contact with the enemy, 

and these represented about 30% of the 7th Air Force effort between 1965 

and 1968. Naturally, the key issue for the troops on the ground was the 

responsiveness of the Air Force to these requests for immediate support. In 

1962, Air Force response times for immediate requests could be as long as 

90 minutes.21 However, the expansion of US Army forces in South Vietnam 

and the concomitant increase in requests for immediate air support led to 

improvements in the Air Force’s Tactical Air Control System, which were 

largely in place by 1966. The speed with which USAF aircraft could respond 

to immediate air requests was further facilitated by the development of jet 

bases within South Vietnam in 1965 and 1966, which brought virtually the 

entire country within 15 minutes jet fl ying time.22 

Apart from their obvious value to the supported ground forces, immediate 

missions were important in the light of the attritional strategy by which the 

United States pursued its war in Vietnam. Most operations, at least until 

1968, were designed to bring the communist forces to battle and immediate 

missions, by definition, involved the confirmed presence of enemy troops. 

Consequently, the Air Force was quite prepared to divert preplanned strikes, 

already in the air, to cover requests for immediate support. These diverts 

provided the quickest responses to requests for immediate support. From 

1966, diverts were usually over the target area about 20 minutes after the 

ground forces had requested assistance. 

If no preplanned strikes were available to divert, the Air Force would 

scramble pre-armed aircraft waiting on runway alert. An average of about 

40 fighter-bombers were held on runway alert each day between 1965 and 

1968 and these usually took about 40 minutes from request to arrival over 

the target.23 The reader will note that this is considerably longer than the 

maximum 15 minutes jet flying time from base to target in South Vietnam. 

The disparity is due to the operation of the Tactical Air Control System itself, 

by which requests for support were processed, targets approved and aircraft 

selected and launched. 

The Air Force believed that its close air support effort in Vietnam was a 

resounding success. A 1969 Air Force report on responses to immediate air 

requests found that: 

In the course of research for this report, no interview, 

discussion, letter, or message brought forth any 

documented evidence that the 7th Air Force Tactical 

Air Control System was remiss in providing immediate 

response to requests for air strikes. On the contrary, 

numerous reports attested to the speed and effectiveness 

127 
of tactical air . . . the evidence . . . indicated that the 

overriding “need to improve” has not been demonstrated.24 

Despite Air Force satisfaction with its close air support provision in 

Vietnam, evidence from Army sources and the Air Force’s own Air Liaison 

Officers and Forward Air Controllers suggests that the Air Force Tactical 

Air Control System was not always sufficiently responsive, at least as far 

as the demands of the United States’ attritional strategy in Vietnam were 

concerned. It was in these circumstances that the Army’s own tactical air 

support capability—composed entirely of armed helicopters after the 

McConnell-Johnson Agreement—came into its own. 

Even the Air Force thought its own response times could be improved if 

certain procedures were adopted, though these would involve trade-offs. One 

such procedure was airborne alert in which missions would be preplanned to 

deal with contingencies by loitering over an area until a target of opportunity 

presented itself. However, the report cautioned that this would not be a 

perfect solution as there could never be any guarantee that the airborne 

alert aircraft would be carrying the most appropriate weapon load for any 

targets encountered. It should be noted, however, that diverted preplans also 

sometimes resulted in aircraft striking targets with inappropriate ordnance 

loads.25 The implementation of an airborne alert system in Northern I Corps, 

after the introduction of Single Management in April 1968, did produce an 

average response time from immediate request to bombs on target of 15 

minutes for air alert aircraft.26 However, air alerts remained rare.27 

A variation on the airborne alert theme was the arming of the FAC 

aircraft themselves. Since the FAC aircraft were already over the target 

they could obviously respond much more quickly than either scrambled or 

diverted fighter-bombers to requests for immediate support from the ground. 

Air Force FACs and ALOs themselves frequently requested the arming of 

FAC aircraft in order to improve response times.28 This, of course, was rather 

similar to the arming of Army surveillance aircraft like the OV-1 Mohawk to 

which the Air Force had reacted so strongly. 

Certainly ground troops preferred aircraft that remained on station above 

them for long periods, ready to respond instantly to threats as and when they 

emerged. Thus, Lieutenant Colonel Frank G. Bell, the ARVN 24th Division 

ALO, reported that the Australian Canberra and the US Air Force B-57, with 

their extended loiter capabilities, were the aircraft most appreciated by both 

United States and ARVN troops.29 

The ability of supporting aircraft to loiter overhead was particularly 

valuable for the support of airmobile operations. In the absence of heavy 

weapons on the ground, airmobile troops were especially dependent on air 

128 
support to provide suppressive fires in the assault phase. Unlike preplanned 

air strikes, which did not necessarily arrive at the optimum time to provide 

timely support of airmobile assaults, loitering aircraft were able to fit in more 

effectively with the tempo of airmobile operations. Presumably this had been 

one of the attractions of the AV-1 armed Mohawk in the original Howze plan 

for airmobile divisions. In the absence of the AV-1, as one ALO wrote of 

airmobile operations in January 1969, “It is at this point that the helicopter 

gunship comes into its own.”30 

Most contacts with the enemy involved only a handful of their soldiers 

and the delay involved in requesting tactical air strikes often facilitated their 

withdrawal.31 Given the USA’s attritional strategy, speed was of the essence 

in engaging these fleeting targets and Army helicopter gunships proved a 

faster method of doing so than requesting Air Force tactical fi ghters. This 

was because the Army’s organic armed helicopters were at the exclusive 

disposal of the ground forces and because they tended to remain close to the 

supported units. In fact, Army commanders tended to find their own armed 

helicopters more responsive to most of their requirements than Air Force 

fighters. 

The Army was eager to establish its right to operate its own close air 

support aircraft, but it always accepted the continued importance of Air Force 

tactical airpower in South Vietnam. In Vietnam, the Army saw helicopter 

gunships merely as occupying one point in a spectrum of escalation from 

the infantry’s personal arms to Air Force tactical aircraft.32 Rather than 

competing, Army officers in Vietnam came to believe that helicopters and 

tactical aircraft actually complemented each other; or at least that until more 

sophisticated rotary-wing gunships became available helicopters could only 

supplant fixed-wing tactical aircraft up to a point. 

Westmoreland himself testified before a congressional committee that 

the projected Air Force A-X fixed-wing ground support aircraft and AH56 Army attack helicopter would be compatible. Though there would be 

some overlap between them, Westmoreland thought that this was true for all 

weapon systems and that in this case he believed the “overlap will be small 

and desirable . . .”33 

For its part, the Air Force pronounced itself satisfied with its own close 

air support performance during the Tet Offensive of 1968. However, the 

Air Force acknowledged it had experienced difficulty delivering air support 

to ground troops at night due to a shortage of AC-47 fi xed-wing gunships, 

which illuminated the targets for the service’s tactical fi ghters. This led, 

during the first week of the Tet Offensive, to ground troops having to wait 

from an hour to an hour and a half for the fulfillment of their requests for air 

129 
strikes at night. “It was extremely fortunate,” said an Air Force report “that 

the US Army Light Fire Teams flying UH-1s [helicopters] were able to fill 

this gap.” Controlled by Forward Air Controllers, these helicopters “were 

usually available in a few minutes . . . In the early days of the offensive, the 

TACS [Tactical Air Control System] FACs considered the [Army] Light Fire 

Teams more important to them in this type of situation than tactical fighters, 

particularly because of their almost immediate response time.”34 

While accepting the usefulness of the Army helicopter gunships at night, 

the Air Force observed that they did not, however, have the fi repower of Air 

Force fighters. This was true, but in many cases, the Army actually found 

the lightness of the armament of its gunships useful in that fire could be 

delivered more closely to friendly troops than the heavier ordinance carried 

by Air Force aircraft and that should heavier ordinance be required, the Air 

Force could always be called upon to deliver it: 

Thus, one of the most significant lessons learned during 

the Tet Offensive was the importance of combining 

the Army’s Light Fire Team capability with the tactical 

air capability and using the FAC as the catalyst.35 

An Army 101st Division (Airmobile) policy guide of 1969 reflected 

the Army’s preference for using its organic fire support capability over that 

of the Air Force by ordering that Air Force close air support should not be 

requested if organic support were available. Indeed, the policy guide warned 

that, compared with organic artillery and gunships, requests for immediate 

air strikes by the Air Force necessarily involved a delay.36 Nevertheless, the 

Army was not about to pass up the opportunity of utilizing the considerable 

firepower of Air Force tactical fighters when the occasion demanded. 

Considering the A Shau Valley campaign of December 1968 to May 

1969, in which the 101st Division was involved, Air Force sources recognized 

that “usually artillery and helicopter gunships responded appreciably faster 

than tactical air.”37 They also accepted that Army organic support was 

always likely to be faster than that provided by the Air Force, as the use of 

heavier weapons such as high-performance, multirole aircraft would require 

approval at higher echelons. Furthermore, according to a survey carried out 

in the summer of 1969, at the order of the Deputy Commanding General, 

II Field Force, Army artillery and helicopter gunships killed more enemy 

troops than Air Force tactical air strikes.38 

However, while the Air Force had, by 1969, come to accept that Army 

helicopter gunships provided effective and economical, on-call, direct fire 

support, it also insisted that the Army could not compete with the firepower 

of the Air Force’s own strike aircraft, nor the sophistication of its Tactical Air 

130 
Control and Forward Air Control systems. While the 101st Airborne Division 

had tended to use its organic fire support for brief, small-unit actions during 

the A Shau campaign, the Air Force noted that the heaviest ordinance carried 

by the Army gunships—the 2.75-inch rocket—was not particularly effective 

in penetrating thick jungle canopy, and the Army made much heavier use 

of Air Force close air support in static actions such as airmobile assaults, in 

defense of fire support bases and when assaulting bunker complexes.39 

Friction between the Air Force and the Army on the issue of armed 

helicopters in South Vietnam never entirely abated. Air Force opposition to 

the Army’s use of helicopter gunships in Vietnam centered on the failure 

of the Army to integrate its aircraft into the Air Force’s TACS, the high 

incidence of Army friendly fire incidents and the service’s conviction that 

helicopters were more vulnerable to enemy air defenses than Air Force 

fi ghter-bombers.40 Keeping Army gunships outside the Air Force TACS 

both guaranteed that the resource remained at the exclusive disposal of the 

Army and facilitated its responsiveness vis-à-vis Air Force fi ghter-bombers. 

The disadvantage was that it probably did also contribute to the number of 

friendly fire incidents though this was a price the Army leadership seems 

to have been willing to pay in order to retain an organic close air support 

capability.41 

The relative vulnerability of Army attack helicopters when compared 

with Air Force fi ghter-bombers remains a matter for debate. They probably 

were more vulnerable and continued Army acceptance of the need for Air 

Force tactical air support might be taken as an acceptance of this, suggesting 

that if the enemy were sufficiently well armed with antiaircraft weapons, the 

Army might rely entirely on the Air Force for support. However, Army plans 

for war with the Warsaw Pact on the European Central Front never excluded 

the helicopter. Instead, the Army developed increasingly sophisticated 

helicopters and ultra, low-level, “nap-of-the-earth” flying techniques to 

increase their survivability in severe air defense environments. 

Though ostensibly resulting from the controversy surrounding the 

Army’s use of the CV-2 fixed-wing tactical transport, the 1966 McConnellJohnson Agreement was actually much more far reaching. In abandoning 

the AV-1 and then signing the 1966 agreement, General Johnson also drew 

a line under some of the more ambitious projects of the Army’s aviation 

fraternity. Although it referred only to Army fixed-wing tactical transports, 

the agreement had the effect of exorcising once and for all the specter of 

high-performance Army jets that had so haunted the Air Force and, it seems, 

General Johnson himself. After April 1966, helicopters presented the only 

weapons platforms available to the Army. As such, the McConnell-Johnson 

131 
Agreement at last confirmed the fact that, with the establishment of the 

independent air force in 1947, the Army had lost the right to operate fixedwing aircraft, both transport and attack. 

Although clearly forbidden by existing policy, the Army’s operation of 

helicopters in the close air support role in South Vietnam was an established 

fact by 1966. The McConnell-Johnson Agreement acknowledged this fait 

accompli by recognizing the Army’s right to operate helicopters in this role. 

The 1966 agreement also provoked controversy regarding the Air 

Force’s own use of helicopters. Under the terms of the agreement, the 

Air Force could use its own helicopters for search and rescue and special 

warfare operations, but nobody thought to define special warfare operations. 

Predictably, in a pathetic mirror image of the Air Force complaints about the 

Army’s use of armed helicopters, General Johnson expressed disapproval 

when a number of helicopters from the Air Force’s 20th Helicopter Squadron, 

based at Nha Trang, fired on the enemy while operating in support of ground 

troops. The 1966 agreement was, therefore, amended to read that armed Air 

Force special air warfare helicopters would support Air Force units, other 

government agencies, and indigenous forces only when operating without 

Army advisers, or not under Army control.42 

That the interservice debate over the Army’s use of helicopter gunships 

continued after April 1966 reveals the paradoxical nature of the McConnellJohnson Agreement. On the one hand, the agreement eliminated one of two air 

forces competing for the tactical air transport role by eliminating the Army’s 

fixed-wing combat aircraft. On the other hand, the agreement resulted in the 

official sanction of two air forces competing for the close air support role. 

In some ways, this intensified the rivalry between the services with regard 

to the close air support mission. The Army continued to expand its close 

air support capability with increasingly sophisticated attack helicopters, the 

existence and development of which now seemed to be guaranteed by the 

McConnell-Johnson Agreement itself. 

Like the armed UH-1 variants before it, the AH-1 Cobra was still only 

an interim measure while the Army awaited the development of an attack 

helicopter from the ground up. The Army identified a requirement for such 

a helicopter in February 1965 when it began the process of defining what it 

called an Advanced Aerial Fire Support System. Contracts for the resulting 

AH-56 Cheyenne attack helicopter were issued in July 1966. 

The Air Force did not passively accept the Army’s attempt to secure this 

extremely sophisticated combat aircraft. Secretary of the Air Force Harold 

Brown attacked both the AH-1 and AH-56 programs on the grounds that 

since they seemed to be intended to fill the close air support role, and this 

132 
was already an Air Force responsibility, they should be evaluated against 

equivalent Air Force aircraft to avoid unnecessary duplication. The Air Force 

also objected to the AH-56 on the grounds that because it had stub-wings, in 

addition to its rotors, it was actually a compound aircraft and therefore not 

a helicopter at all! According to this view, the AH-56 contravened the Air 

Force’s monopoly of fixed-wing aircraft agreed by McConnell and Johnson 

in April 1966. 

General Johnson responded that the Air Force’s attack on the AH-56 itself 

contravened his agreement with General McConnell that, he felt, implied an 

undertaking from the Air Force to drop its opposition to the Army’s use of 

helicopter gunships. While this clearly was the spirit of the agreement to 

which the Army thought it had subscribed, the Air Force applied to it a strict 

interpretation with rather different results. The Air Force had promised only 

to drop its claim to sole responsibility for helicopters performing intratheatre 

movement, fire support and supply of Army forces. The McConnellJohnson Agreement said nothing about Air Force opposition to individual 

Army helicopter programs on the grounds that they duplicated roles already 

conducted by Air Force fi xed-wing aircraft. 

This may well have been part of the reason behind the Air Force’s 

abandonment, under the leadership of General McConnell, of its insistence 

on using multirole aircraft for close air support purposes. Determined to avoid 

the loss of any further territory to the Army, McConnell resolved to improve 

the Air Force’s own close air support service by procuring a specialized 

tactical attack aircraft. The Department of Defense approved the resulting 

A-X project in 1968, and such was the service’s haste that it selected an offthe-shelf model: the Navy’s A-7 Corsair—the Air Force version of which 

first flew in October 1972—as an interim aircraft to fill the gap until the A-X 

could come into service.43 

Thus, while the Army signed the McConnell-Johnson Agreement in 

order to secure its own organic close air support provided by helicopters, one 

of the effects of the agreement may have been to improve the quality of the 

provision of close air support provided by the Air Force with its fixed-wing 

aircraft, at least in the short term. 

As one of General Johnson’s main reasons for surrendering the CV-2s to 

the Air Force was to put an end to Air Force opposition to the Army’s helicopter 

program, some Army offi cers felt that continued Air Force criticisms about 

Army helicopter gunships proved that the agreement was fundamentally 

flawed.44 However, while Air Force attacks on the Army helicopter program 

did not abate, it has to be said that the Office of the Secretary of Defense 

rejected the Air Force’s position, and in 1968, it approved both the purchase 

133 
of 375 AH-56s for the Army and the development of the Air Force’s A-X 

close support aircraft. 

The AH-56 was in fact cancelled in 1969, but this was due to technical 

problems and the Army immediately announced a replacement program that 

finally bore fruit as the Army’s AH-64 Apache attack helicopter. The parallel 

AH-64 and A-X programs again came under scrutiny by Deputy Secretary 

of Defense David Packard who, in January 1970, called upon the secretaries 

of the Army and Air Force to provide rationales for the two aircraft. While 

the results implied continued disagreement on roles and missions between 

the services, the two secretaries were unable to agree that just one of the 

projected aircraft could conduct every mission under the general heading of 

combat air support. They, therefore decided that both aircraft should proceed 

to the prototype stage.45 

In Vietnam, both the Army and the Air Force criticized each other’s 

provision of close air support, or damned it with faint praise. The Army 

claimed that Air Force response times were too slow, while the Air Force 

claimed that Army helicopter gunships were vulnerable, inaccurate weapons 

platforms and lacked firepower compared to its own tactical fighters. 

However, the realities of combat gradually led to an acceptance by 

both services that each other’s close air support capability was there to stay. 

The services did eventually reach a practical working arrangement for joint 

operations in South Vietnam with the concept of different but compatible 

close air support performed by the Army’s helicopter gunships and the Air 

Force’s tactical fighters. 

By way of roughly contemporaneous examples, a 1971 Army report on 

air-delivered weapons distinguished between the close air support delivered 

by the Air Force’s fixed-wing aircraft and the close-in support delivered by 

the Army’s own armed helicopters, and an Air Force report of July 1970, on 

Army aviation in Vietnam, accepted that the acquisition “of organic aviation 

has increased the combat potential of Army ground units tremendously.”46 

A 1972 congressional subcommittee report on close air support found 

in Vietnam helicopters were “superior to fixed-wing aircraft for providing 

light, but sustained suppressive firepower in escort of other helicopters and 

in support of troop ships during landing operations.”47 As the report put it: 

The battlefield firepower contributed by armed 

helicopters is distinctly different from the firepower 

provided by fixed-wing aircraft, so calling both close air 

support may be in error in that it adds to the controversy 

. . . It appears that there is a place for both fi xed wing 

aircraft and attack helicopters on the battlefield, and that 

134 
interservice rivalry over this issue is counterproductive 

to the goal of providing the best possible firepower 

support for the soldier on the battlefield.48 

However, to many Air Force officers the notion of “different but 

compatible” close air support seemed little more than a sleight of hand device 

designed to rationalize the practical fact that both Air Force (fi xed-wing) and 

Army (rotary-wing) close air support capabilities existed in parallel. 

135 
NOTES 

1. Ernie S. Montagliani, Army Aviation in RVN - A Case Study (Special 

Report Contemporary Historical Examination of Current Operations [CHECO] 

Report 11July 1970), Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, AL., 

(hereinafter referred to as AFHRA), K717.0413-82, 49. 

2. Final report of the US Army Tactical Mobility Requirements Board, 

(hereinafter referred to as the “Howze Report”), (Fort Bragg, NC, 29 August 

1962), US Army Centre of Military History, Washington DC, 32. 

3. In a 1972 interview Air Force Chief of Staff General Curtis E. 

LeMay recounts the Joint Chiefs of Staff debating Army claims to exclusive 

responsibility for counterinsurgency operations. Curtis E. LeMay, GEN (USAF), 

(8 June 1972), AFHRA, K239.0512-592, transcript, 10-11 & William W. 

Momyer, USAF Southeast Asia Monograph Series, Vol. III, Monograph 4, The 

Vietnamese Air Force, 1951-1975: An Analysis of its Role in Combat (Washington, 

DC, Office of Air Force History, 1985), 4. 

4. John J. Tolson, Vietnam Studies, Airmobility (Washington, DC: 

Department of the Army, 1973), 32. 

5. William C. Westmoreland, A Soldier Reports (New York, 1976), 86-87. 

6. Robert F. Futrell, The United States Air Force in Southeast Asia, The 

Advisory Years To 1965, (Washington, DC: Office of Air Force History, 1981), 79 

& David J. Dean, The Air Force Role in Low-Intensity Conflict, (Maxwell AFB, 

AL: Air University, 1986), 87. 

7. William W. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars, (New York, 1980), 252­

253 & Futrell, op cit., 82. 

8. Dean, op cit., 88. 

9. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars, 253 & Futrell, op cit., 80. 

10. Under the terms of the agreement the VNAF was permitted to replace 

its equipment “on the basis of piece-for piece of the same type and with similar 

characteristics,” but it possessed no jet aircraft in 1954. William W. Momyer, 

The Vietnamese Air Force, 2 & Article 17, paragraphs a & b, “Agreement on 

the Cessation of Hostilities in Vietnam,” 20 July 1954, in Marvin E. Gettleman, 

ed., Vietnam: History, Documents and Opinions on a Major World Crisis 

(Greenwich, Conn., 1965), 143. 

11. In fact, the air commandos had already fired on the enemy during some 

early familiarization fl ights. Futrell, op cit., 80-82. 

12. George P. Seneff, LTG, Interview (1978), 36 & Robert R. Williams, 

LTG, Interview (1978), tape 1, transcript, 8, Senior Officer Oral History 

Program, US Army Military History Institute (hereinafter cited as MHI), Carlisle 

Barracks, PA. 

13. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars, 265. 

14. Ibid., 81. 

15. Tolson, op cit., 31. 

136 
16. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars, 256. 

17. Association of the US Army (AUSA), “Airmobility Symposium,” Army, 

Vol. 14 (December 1963), 67. 

18. This according to an Interview with Delbert Bristol, COL (USA), 

Senior Officer Oral History Program, MHI (1978), tape 1, transcript, 64. 

19. MAJ John R. Albright, USAF (Khanh Hoa Sector ALO) to HQ 7th Air 

Force (31 Jan. 1969) & LTC Frank G. Bell, USAF (ALO, 21st Inf. Div. [ARVN]) 

to HQ 7th Air Force (28 Jan. 1969), “Air Response to Immediate Air Requests 

in South Vietnam – Special Report” (CHECO Reports, Vol. 2, Supporting 

Documents, AFHRA, K717.0413-56.) 

20. Momyer, op cit., 250. 

21. Melvin F. Porter, “Air Response to Immediate Air Requests in South 

Vietnam,” (CHECO Report, 15 July 1969), AFHRA, K717.0413-56, 1:2. 

22. Ibid., 1:4-8 & 14-15. 

23. Ibid., 1: xi. 

24. Ibid., 1:19. 

25. Ibid., 1:22 & Bell to HQ 7th Air Force, (28 Jan. 1969), “Air Response to 

Immediate Air Requests in South Vietnam,” Vol. 2, Supporting Documents. 

26. LTC Charles H. Parsons (I Corps ARVN ALO) to 7th Air Force, (2 Feb. 

1969), “Air Response to Immediate Air Requests in South Vietnam,” Vol. 2, 

Supporting Docs. 

27. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars, 277-279. 

28. Bell to 7th Air Force (28 Jan. 1969); Albright to HQ 7th Air Force (31 Jan. 

1969) & discussion between MAJ Kracht (FAC, 199th Light Infantry Brigade) & 

Kenneth Sams (Project CHECO), (6 Feb 1969), “Air Response to Immediate Air 

Requests in South Vietnam,” Vol. 2, Supporting Docs. 

29. The B-57 was a developed version of the Canberra. 

30. Bell to HQ 7AF (28 Jan 69), “Air Response to Immediate Air Requests in 

South Vietnam,” Vol. 2, Supporting Docs. 

31. Bert B. Aton, “A Shau Valley Campaign – Dec. 1968-May 1969 

– Special Report,” CHECO Report (15 October 1969), AFHRA, K717.0413-75, 

30. 

32. Montagliani, op cit., 48-51. 

33. Westmoreland quoted in Ibid., 50. 

34. A.W. Thompson & C. William Thorndale, “Air Response to the Tet 

Offensive – 30 Jan.-29 Feb. 1968 – Special Report,” (CHECO Report 12 Aug. 

1968), AFHRA, K717.0413-32, 16. 

35. Ibid., 16-17. 

36. 101st Airborne Division policy guide quoted in Aton, op cit., 27. 

37. Ibid., 27. 

38. Ibid., 24-27. 

39. Ibid., 28-30 & 40. 

40. Montagliani, op cit., 45-46. 

41. Aton, op cit., 28-30. 

42. John Schlight, The United States Air Force in Southeast Asia, The War 

137 
in South Vietnam, The Years of the Offensive: 1965-1968 (Washington, DC: Office 

of Air Force History, 1988), 238-239 & GEN J.P. McConnell, USAF & Harold K. 

Johnson, USA, “Addendum to the Agreement of 6 April 1966 [“The McConnellJohnson Agreement”] Between the Chief of Staff, U.S. Army and the Chief of Staff, 

U.S. Air Force” (19 May 1967), Richard I. Wolf, The United States Air Force: 

Basic Documents on Roles and Missions (Washington, DC: Office of Air Force 

History, 1987), 384. 

43. The A-X later became the A-10 Thunderbolt. McConnell did have 

something of a tactical pedigree, having commanded the 3d Tactical Air Force 

during the Second World War and having served in Tactical Air Command after 

the war. However, he had also served ten years in Strategic Air Command. 

Richard G. Davis, The 31 Initiatives: A Study in Air Force – Army Cooperation 

(Washington, DC, Office of Air Force History, 1987), 19 & 21. 

44. Williams, op cit., tape 1, transcript, 6 & 7. 

45. Davis, op cit., 21-22. 

46. Montagliani, op cit., 61. See also USARV Air Delivered Weapons 

System Study Group, “Air Delivered Weapons Systems in Vietnam” (1 April 

1971), National Archives and Records Administration, RG 472, USARV 

Command Historian, History Source File, Box 1. 

47. Report of The Special Subcommittee on Close Air Support of the 

Preparedness Investigating Subcommittee of the Committee on Armed Services, 

United States Senate (Washington, DC, 1972), 16. 

48. Ibid., 18. 

138 
CHAPTER 6 

KHE SANH: INTERSERVICE RIVALRY

OR INTERSERVICE COOPERATION?

This [Khe Sanh] was not just a victory for airpower, but also a 

victory for interservice airpower cooperation.1

In the early months of 1968, the Marine combat base at Khe Sanh, 

in the northernmost, or I Corps military region of South Vietnam, was 

besieged by some 15,000 to 20,000 troops from three North Vietnamese 

Army (NVA) divisions.2

 Occurring simultaneously with the communist Tet 

Offensive throughout South Vietnam, the war in Southeast Asia seemed to 

be reaching a crescendo at Khe Sanh. 

A superficial resemblance between Khe Sanh and the decisive siege 

of Dien Bien Phu during the First Indochina War heightened the sense 

of urgency in 1968. Like Dien Bien Phu before it, Khe Sanh seemed a 

distant base, cut off from relief by ground forces and entirely dependent 

on a tenuous airborne line of communication for reinforcements, food and 

ammunition. As they had done at Dien Bien Phu, the Communists subjected 

the 6,000 US Marines and ARVN Rangers at Khe Sanh to a continual, and 

often intense, bombardment. Most ominously, the communists began to 

dig trenches around the base, apparently in preparation for the seemingly 

inevitable wave infantry assaults that had, ultimately, spelled defeat for 

the elite airborne forces of the French army at Dien Bien Phu and, indeed, 

had signaled the collapse of the entire French effort in the First Indochina 

War. The scenario seemed complete to the last detail with the appointment 

of the Communist victor of Dien Bien Phu, General Vo Nguyen Giap, as 

commander of the besieging NVA forces at Khe Sanh. 

Regardless of any considerations of the outpost’s real strategic value, 

the attention of both politicians and the media focused, myopically, on 

the fate of the garrison at Khe Sanh. The commander of the Military 

Assistance Command Vietnam (COMUSMACV), General William C. 

Westmoreland, encouraged this emphasis. While Westmoreland was well 

aware that Khe Sanh was, in itself, hardly worth expending any great 

effort to defend, he saw the siege as an opportunity to use the enormous 

firepower of his own forces to inflict a heavy price on the besieging NVA 

units. Here too, Khe Sanh appeared to resemble Dien Bien Phu for the 

French also envisaged their base as a “honey pot” against which the Viet 

139 
Minh would dash themselves to pieces, mounting futile infantry assaults 

in the face of overwhelming French fi repower. 

It was, then, with considerable fanfare, and no little relief, that after two 

months of bombardment, the siege of Khe Sanh was lifted in early April. 

The successful defense of the outpost was widely perceived in the United 

States as a resounding victory, and what was more, a resounding victory 

for airpower. As such, the siege of Khe Sanh highlighted the increasing 

importance of air power in the American way of war and demonstrated 

some of the new military aviation developments that were coming to 

fruition at the time of the siege. Khe Sanh also throws many of the main 

interservice aviation issues of the Vietnam era into sharp relief. 

The siege illustrates key aspects of the debate over tactical airlift 

that had arisen between the Air Force and the Army as a result of the 

development of the latter service’s airmobile concept in the early 1960s. 

However, there were no Army troops at Khe Sanh and the Army bore no 

responsibility for any aspect of the air supply effort in support of the base. 

That role fell to a combination of Air Force and Marine aircraft. Khe Sanh 

also provided a forum for the public exposition of ongoing arguments 

between the Marines and the Air Force over the centralization of tactical 

air power. This devolved into an unsightly squabble between the Air 

Force, the Marines and MACV that eventually demanded the attention of 

the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the highest reaches of government. As a result 

of non-operational, interservice political considerations, the Joint Chiefs 

were unable to agree to a definitive solution to the problem. Consequently, 

the Office of the Secretary of Defense imposed a short-term compromise 

solution on the services. 

THE SIEGE OF KHE SANH 

The village of Khe Sanh lay in Quang Tri Province, in the northwestern 

corner of South Vietnam, 16 kilometers from the Laotion border to the west 

and 25 kilometers from the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) between South 

and North Vietnam, to the north. Situated on a plateau in a plain of forest 

and dense undergrowth, the Khe Sanh combat base was dominated to the 

north and west by a series of hills, the possession of which was vital for 

the defense of the base. The base was linked by road to South Vietnamese 

Highway 9 that, in turn, joined Highway 1, the country’s main north-south 

route, near Dong Ha. 

Khe Sanh was originally a Special Forces base established to gather 

intelligence on communist forces moving into South Vietnam through 

the DMZ, or from Laos via the Ho Chi Minh Trail. In 1967, the base 

assumed greater importance against a background of evidence suggesting 

140 
an impending communist offensive would involve the movement of 

communist forces through the area. Consequently, units of the 3d Marine 

Amphibious Force (III MAF) took control of Khe Sanh while special 

forces moved to the nearby village of Lang Vei. As part of the expansion of 

the base carried out by the Marines, US Navy Seabee engineers extended 

and resurfaced the base’s runway—originally built by the French—with 

pierced steel planking to permit its re-supply and reinforcement by large 

fixed-wing transport aircraft. 

Airpower’s contribution to the defense of Khe Sanh comprised two 

main aspects: tactical airlift and close air support. At the beginning of the 

siege, Khe Sanh was effectively cut off from its main supply base at Da 

Nang by the loss of several bridges along Route 9 due to fl ooding and 

communist demolition. General Westmoreland rejected any early effort 

to reopen this line of communication by ground forces until weather 

conditions improved in the spring.3

 However, he decided that sufficient 

supplies could be airlifted to Khe Sanh for its defense by some five 

battalions or so of US Marine and ARVN Ranger troops. Denied re-supply 

by land, the defenders of Khe Sanh were to rely exclusively on their air 

line of communication. 

Dien Bien Phu had also relied exclusively on re-supply by air. The 

fall of the French garrison suggested that the earlier air supply effort had 

failed dismally, but the French logistics bases were further away from 

Dien Bien Phu than Da Nang was from Khe Sanh, and the more primitive 

French transport aircraft had suffered from much smaller load capacities 

than their American equivalents in 1968. Early in the French siege, the 

runway at Dien Bien Phu had become unusable. As the net of Viet Minh 

trenches around the base tightened, the airdrop technology of the French 

transport force had proved inadequate for the shrinking drop zone causing 

ever greater amounts of French supplies to fall into communist hands. 

While the runway at Khe Sanh also came under fire, and was eventually 

closed to the largest American tactical transport aircraft, the C-130, it was 

never closed entirely. Throughout the siege, Air Force and Marine transport 

aircraft were able to maintain the aerial highway to the base and supply 

it with the materials essential for its survival. The smaller C-123 and C-7 

transport aircraft continued to use the strip while the C-130s, using the 

latest methods of airborne extraction, continued to make accurate drops 

of materials to the garrison. It might be said, therefore, that the United 

States had the airlift technology required to make the defense of Khe Sanh 

practical in the way that the defense of Dien Bien Phu never was.4

 In the 

absence of relief on the ground, air supply became vital for the defense of 

Khe Sanh, as was the close air support effort expended in support of the 

base. 

141 
This took the form of an intensive operation codenamed NIAGARA. 

During the course of this effort, US air forces expended some 100,000 

tons (US) of air-delivered ordnance, providing Khe Sanh with the dubious 

distinction of being the most “bombed” place in history, to that date. 

While no serious attempt was ever made by the NVA to assault the base, 

United States military authorities attribute this to the success of Operation 

NIAGARA.5 

In December 1967, Marine patrols, sent out from Khe Sanh 

detected signs of a build up of communist forces in the vicinity of the 

base. Convinced that Khe Sanh would soon be under siege, General 

Westmoreland ordered his deputy for air, General William W. Momyer, to 

prepare for the coordinated use of all available air assets in defense of the 

base. The resulting plan for Operation NIAGARA, called for the placing 

of all the fixed-wing aircraft of the First Marine Air Wing (I MAW), less 

the command’s transport aircraft, under Momyer’s “single management,” 

a term lacking offi cial definition, but which both Momyer and the Marines 

were to interpret as operational control. 

Following a number of actions around the base, the siege of Khe Sanh 

proper opened on 21 January 1968 when the NVA assaulted the Marine 

outpost on Hill 861 and began a bombardment of the base itself that would 

continue at varying levels of intensity for the next two months. On that 

first day of bombardment, communist rounds ignited a conflagration in the 

base’s main ammunition dump causing the loss of most of its contents and 

highlighting the demands that the siege was likely to place on the base’s 

airborne line of communication. In response to the developing situation at 

Khe Sanh, Westmoreland ordered the execution of Operation NIAGARA, 

but was forbidden by the Commander in Chief Pacific (CINCPAC), 

Admiral Ulysses S. Grant Sharp, to proceed with the implementation of 

the single-management aspect of the plan.6 

The following day, representatives of 7th Air Force and III MAF met 

at Da Nang to establish procedures for the coordination of their air assets 

in defense of Khe Sanh. With all eyes riveted on the combat base, the 

Communists launched the Tet Offensive throughout South Vietnam on the 

night of 30-31 January, but attention reverted to the vicinity of Khe Sanh 

when, on 7 February, using tanks for the first time, NVA forces overran the 

nearby Special Forces compound at Lang Vei. 

After a month of bombardment during which Operation NIAGARA 

provided heavy air support to the base, including the use of B-52 heavy 

bombers, operating in a tactical role, General Westmoreland again 

requested that he be allowed to appoint General Momyer single manager 

142 
for air, and this time received Admiral Sharp’s approval on 2 March 1968. 

Due to go into operation on 10 March, full implementation of the initiative 

was held up until 21 March—after NVA forces had begun to withdraw 

from the vicinity of Khe Sanh. 

General Westmoreland now ordered Operation PEGASUS to relieve 

the garrison at Khe Sanh. Rather than mount a conventional ground drive, 

Westmoreland decided to use an airmobile division. While elements of 

the 3d Marine Division and engineers began to advance from Ca Lu along 

Route 9 towards the base units of the 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile) 

acted as a screening force, operating to the flanks of the Marines in terrain 

that would have been less accessible to conventional ground forces. The 

Cavalry were able to use their particular mobility attributes to leapfrog 

forward from landing zone to landing zone, establishing covering firebases 

into which artillery was flown by helicopter as the advance proceeded.7 

Beginning their advance on 1 April, these forces linked up with Khe 

Sanh’s defenders on 8 April, declaring Route 9 open some four days later.8 

No doubt the siege could have been lifted by conventional ground drive, 

but even though many of the Communist forces besieging Khe Sanh had 

withdrawn, the airmobile division’s role at Khe Sanh was significant, not 

only in lifting the siege, but also as the trigger for the implementation of 

single management. Having raised the siege of an outpost considered vital 

to the US national interest between January and March 1968, American 

forces abandoned the base at the end of June. 

TACTICAL AIRLIFT 

The tactical airlift effort at Khe Sanh highlighted the varying 

capabilities of the different types of transport aircraft servicing the base. 

It will be recalled that the C-130, with its large cargo capacity (15 tons), 

was the Air Force’s transport of choice while the C-7s (3 tons) were the 

old Army dedicated CV-2 Short Takeoff and Landing (STOL) transports 

that had been transferred to the Air Force as a result of the McConnellJohnson Agreement of 1966. The C-123 (5 tons) was an older intermediate 

aircraft, originally designed as an “assault transport” for support of Army 

airborne forces. At Khe Sanh, of course, the Air Force transports were 

not supporting the Army, but the Marines, who themselves operated some 

KC-130s which saw service during the siege.9 As we know, the Air Force 

favored the C-130 as the sole solution to its tactical transport requirements. 

It had never wanted the C-123, but these aircraft made up a large proportion 

of the transport fleet pending the opportunity to procure more C-130s, or 

a more advanced follow-on aircraft. We also saw that the Air Force had 

never wanted the C-7, but had agreed to operate the aircraft in order to 

retain its unique STOL abilities for the Army. 

143 
The Air Force, then, believed that C-130s were the best aircraft for the 

support of Khe Sanh, but the C-130 fleet would have to be supplemented 

by the smaller C-123s. Given the Army’s concerns about the vulnerability 

of long-prepared runways under fire, it presumably expected the C-7 to 

be particularly useful in the circumstances of Khe Sanh, but the aircraft’s 

relatively small payload meant that it could never play more than a minor 

role in the overall Khe Sanh air supply effort. Nevertheless, Khe Sanh 

presented an opportunity for the demonstration of what might be described 

as the Air Force and Army’s competing tactical airlift concepts under 

combat conditions. 

The heavy C-130s and C-123s were naturally much tougher on the 

runway at Khe Sanh—which was especially subject to damage due to the 

wet weather conditions in the area—than the lighter C-7s. During 1967, 

C-7s were the only aircraft able to fly into Khe Sanh for a time and the 

runway had to be repaired for further use by the bigger aircraft.10 During 

the siege itself, however, the small C-7s could not possibly hope to haul 

supplies suffi cient for five battalions into Khe Sanh and even the C-123 

proved unequal to the task. 

As at Dien Bien Phu, the communists sought to close Khe Sanh’s 

runway by positioning antiaircraft weapons around the approaches to 

the base, with some results. Damage to transports flying into the base 

in January and February led to MACV concerns that C-130s and C123s 

might have to be restricted to airdrops of supplies, while the runway could 

remain open only to the C-7, a smaller target which need remain exposed 

to enemy fire for less time than the big transports during its short take-off 

and landing runs. While the C-130 had a landing run of approximately 

2,000 feet, the C-123’s was only 1,400 feet. This meant that while the C123s could usually be slowed sufficiently and quickly enough to enable 

them to swing straight off the runway to the sandbagged unloading point, 

the C-130 often overshot the turn off forcing it to brave enemy fire as it 

taxied back down the runway. 

Up to 10 February, the Air Force had seven C-130s damaged flying 

into Khe Sanh. On 10 February, a Marine KC-130F, loaded with fuel 

was hit coming into land at Khe Sanh and was lost to fire on the ground 

with eight of those on board dying in, or as a result, of the conflagration. 

The next day, an Air Force C-130 was immobilized by fragments from 

a rocket that landed nearby. Hit again the following day, the aircraft 

was finally flown out on 13 February after temporary repairs had been 

completed. Consequently, General Momyer decided that the C-130s were 

too valuable and too vulnerable to continue landing at Khe Sanh and on 

144 
12 February 7th Air Force ceased flying C-130s into Khe Sanh, increasing 

C-123 flights in an unsuccessful effort to compensate. Marine KC-130s 

continued landing at Khe Sanh for a further 10 days before the commander 

of III MAF, Lieutenant General Robert E. Cushman Jr., issued a similar 

order. Momyer’s ban on C-130 landings at Khe Sanh continued until 25 

February when the Air Force resumed landing the big transports, but the 

loss of a C-123 while taking off on 1 March led General Momyer to once 

again discontinue the landings.11 

In the five days from 12 February, C-123s were able to deliver only a 

daily average of 48 tons of supplies to Khe Sanh compared with an actual 

average daily requirement of 235 tons (US).12 The C-123 simply did not 

have enough cargo capacity to supply the requirements of the base by 

itself, while the C-7, of course, had an even smaller cargo capacity. 7th Air 

Force, therefore, agreed with the Marines to begin supplying the base by 

airdrop from C-130s supplemented by C-123 and C-7 landings, the latter 

aircraft being confined to the most critical loads where safety of the cargo 

was of essence, such as passengers, medical evacuation cases, and other 

very fragile loads. 

C-130s conducted supply airdrops by two main systems: parachute 

container delivery and low-altitude cargo extraction. The former involved 

dropping supplies attached to wooden pallets into a drop zone just west of 

the base. Accuracy was guaranteed by using radar to guide the drops. The 

latter was really two systems: the first, and most common, Low Altitude 

Parachute Extraction System (LAPES) involved flying low along the Khe 

Sanh runway at an altitude of five feet with the cargo pallets being extracted 

by the opening of a trailing parachute attached to the pallet; the second, 

less successful, Ground Proximity Extraction System (GPES) involved 

actually touching down on the runway with the pallet being extracted 

by arrester hook and wire and the aircraft accelerating back into the air 

without ever having come to a stop. 

Helicopters proved the only possible medium of supply for the vital hill 

outposts around Khe Sanh. As we have seen, the Air Force only developed 

its own assault helicopter squadrons during the 1950s with great reluctance 

and the Army’s refusal to use them had come almost as something of a 

relief to Air Force officers with scant enthusiasm for rotary-wing aircraft. 

Not surprisingly, therefore, the Air Force raised no objection to the supply 

of the hill outposts by Marine CH-46 and CH-53 medium-lift helicopters. 

By the end of February, increasing ground fire here also, obliged the 

Marines to develop a flak suppression tactic called the “Super Gaggle” 

which involved the close coordination of Marine fi xed-wing jet fi ghter145 
bombers and helicopter gunships with the Marine helicopter transports.13 

Given Air Force reservations about the vulnerability of helicopters in the 

combat zone, it is unlikely that many of the service’s offi cers believed 

techniques like the “Super Gaggle” would remain a practical propositions 

in a high-intensity war against the Warsaw Pact in Western Europe. 

The Air Force then, supplemented by a number of Marine KC-130s, 

provided the vast majority of the fixed-wing supply assets for the Khe Sanh 

combat base. The Army had argued that the big C-130 transports would be 

unable to use the small, unprepared airstrips from which airmobile forces 

would operate. Khe Sanh’s was a more extensive runway than these, but as 

the Army had predicted, the Air Force—and soon after the Marines also— 

proved reluctant to risk the expensive C-130s and their crews in the face of 

heavy ground fire. The C-130’s long take-off and landing roll made it just 

too vulnerable. Only lighter STOL aircraft of the type favored by the Army 

for the support of its airmobile forces were able to get in and out of Khe 

Sanh within tolerable safety limits, but they could not deliver sufficient 

supplies. While the smaller aircraft performed a vital role, hauling priority 

and fragile cargo, it was still the C-130s that delivered the vast bulk of 

supplies to Khe Sanh via airdrops. It should be noted however, that even 

though these did not require actual landings in the conventional sense, 

even GPES and LAPES required the luxury of a long runway that was 

never closed by the communists at Khe Sanh. Though the air supply effort 

at Khe Sanh was a success and could not have been conducted by aircraft 

in the C-7 and C-123 classes alone, the siege pointed up the accuracy of 

some Army reservations about the C-130 and the value of STOL capability 

for fixed-wing transport aircraft. 

COMMAND AND CONTROL (SINGLE MANAGEMENT) 

While there was a reasonably amicable division of responsibilities 

between the Air Force and the Marines with respect to the air supply 

effort at Khe Sanh, the same cannot be said for the command relationship 

between the two services for the control of close air support in I Corps. 

The main issue of contention was the successive attempts to coordinate 

Air Force and Marine strike and reconnaissance aircraft that culminated in 

the introduction of the single manager system over Marine protests. 

Prior to 1968, the command arrangements under which United States 

air power operated in South Vietnam had their origins in the 1963 report 

of the CINCPAC Tactical Air Support Board chaired by Marine General 

Keith B. McCutcheon. This suggested that in a multiservice force, under 

the overall authority of CINCPAC, the force commander should delegate 

a “coordinating authority for tactical air operations.”14 Such an officer 

146 
would have the authority to compel subordinate service components to 

consult over air power matters, but not the authority to force compliance 

with any advice he might offer beyond this. In general, these arrangements 

found favor with the Army and the Navy, but not with an Air Force that, as 

we know, desired the centralization of all air assets, regardless of service 

of origin, under the operational control of the force’s air component 

commander who would, of course, normally be an Air Force offi cer. 

Successive Air Force commanders in Vietnam desired the realization of 

this doctrinal objective which, in its most extreme form, would involve 

the bringing under Air Force operational control of both Marine and Army 

(essentially rotary-wing) air assets, making the [Air Force] air component 

commander “single manager” for all air operations, though they never 

achieved this objective in its entirety.15 

Immediately, the 3d Marine Expeditionary Force—later renamed the 

3d Marine Amphibious Force (III MAF)—arrived in South Vietnam in 

1965. General Westmoreland attempted to assert his authority over its 

supporting First Marine Air Wing (I MAW) by bringing Marine jet aircraft 

under the single management of his air component commander. While 

neither the then CINCPAC, Admiral Harry D. Felt, or his replacement, 

Admiral Ulysses S. Grant Sharp, accepted the McCutcheon Board’s report 

in its entirety, they endorsed its “coordinating authority for tactical air 

operations” formula by ordering Westmoreland to settle for a compromise 

command arrangement for MACV air assets.16 Issued as MACV Directive 

95-4 in July 1965, this gave the commander of 7th Air Force “coordinating 

authority” over all air assets in South Vietnam, but retained operational 

control of all Marine aircraft under the III MAF. While I MAW was to give 

priority to the support of III MAF, any sorties additional to III MAF needs 

were to be made available, on a daily basis, to 7th Air Force. In practice, 

however, by January 1968, the Marines reported few additional sorties 

available to 7th Air Force.17 A June 1966 modification of MACV Directive 

95-4 provided for all available air assets to be brought, temporarily, 

under the Air Force Tactical Air Control System in the event of a “major 

emergency.” It was left to COMUSMACV to define what constituted such 

an emergency.18 Before 1968, therefore, the MACV air deputy controlled 

7th Air Force operations in support of the Army in I Corps, but he had only 

very limited control of I MAW aircraft. Obviously, this was inconsistent 

with the Air Force belief in the single management of air power. 

Single management of tactical air resources reemerged as an issue in I 

Corps because of the build up of non-Marine forces in the region. Until late 

1967, the vast majority of allied forces in I Corps were US Marines and 

so Westmoreland placed the region under the control of the Commanding 

147 
General of III MAF, but in response to increasing communist activity in 

the region, Westmoreland began to move additional Army units north. 

The first such unit was an Army brigade designated Task Force Oregon, 

under the command of Lieutenant General William J. Rossen which took 

up position at the southern end of III MAF’s area of responsibility in April 

1967. Task Force Oregon drew most of its air support from 7th Air Force, 

but this posed few problems as those aircraft, flying from their bases south 

of I Corps, did not impinge on the operational areas of Marine units, either 

in the air or on the ground. Later in the year, Task Force Oregon was 

expanded to form the Americal Division with a corresponding increase in 

area of responsibility, but again, this posed few problems as Marine units 

were drawn further north by increased fighting nearer the DMZ. 

In autumn 1967, Army units in I Corps were further increased by the 

addition of elements of the 1st Air Cavalry Division (Airmobile), initially 

positioned, again, to the south of the Marines. However, with communist 

activity increasing to the north, especially around Khe Sanh and Hue, the 

Army division was assigned to the operational control of III MAF on 21 

January 1968 and concentrated between the 3d Marine division to the north 

and the 1st Marine Division to the south.19 Third MAF’s order of battle 

was then further supplemented by yet another Army division: the 101st 

Airborne, the first elements of which arrived in I Corps on 13 February.20 

With the passing of the Army’s Air Cavalry to the operational control 

of III MAF, the argument for some kind of coordination of Marine and 

Air Force aircraft began to build. Thus, ironically, the extension of Marine 

operational responsibility to non-Marine ground units created a demand 

for the Marines to lose operational control of their own air units because 

of what appeared to be a reluctance on the part of the Marines to provide 

air support to these non-Marine ground units and because it created an 

increasing requirement for 7th Air Force involvement in the area. This led 

to an inevitable clash between the separate air control systems of the two 

services. 

With the number US divisions in I Corps increasing, Westmoreland now 

established a MACV forward headquarters subordinate to III MAF, under 

General Creighton Abrams at Phu Bai, to control the Army Air Cavalry 

and 101st Airborne Divisions, and the 3d Marine Division. This became 

Provisional Corps Vietnam under General Rossen, on 10 March.21 

The Army Air Cavalry Division, as now deployed in I Corps, found 

itself between two Marine divisions: the 3d Marines of Provisional Corps 

Vietnam to one flank and the First Marines to another. This provided 

the Army division’s commander, General Tolson, with an ideal vantage 

148 
point from which to compare Marine close air support with that normally 

provided by the Air Force to Army divisions. Tolson found that the 

Marines received more support from their 1st Marine Air Wing than Army 

divisions did from 7th Air Force and he made this point in situation reports 

to Westmoreland.22 

This is unsurprising as a higher level of close air support than that 

provided by the Air Force to the Army was a Marine doctrinal requirement. 

As the Marines’ primary mission was amphibious warfare, Marine divisions 

had less supporting artillery than those of their Army cousins. Preferring 

to expend their resources on fixed-wing aircraft, the Marines had also 

invested less heavily than the Army in helicopter gunships. Marine air 

power was, therefore, optimized to compensate for a relative shortfall in 

other types of firepower and closely integrated with Marine ground forces 

under the concept of the “air-ground team.” Indeed, Marine air had no 

other mission except the close air support of Marine ground units, whereas 

the Air Force had a whole series of missions to perform, including air 

superiority, interdiction, and strategic air warfare, and as we already know, 

close air support was not the Air Force’s first priority. In the Marine view, 

as ground-support specialists, Marine pilots were more proficient in the 

art than their Air Force cousins, and they believed their air control system, 

designed specifically for close air support, more suited to the task than that 

of the Air Force. Undoubtedly, few in the Air Force would have agreed. 

On 5 January 1968, General Westmoreland ordered the beginning 

of an airborne intelligence gathering campaign in support of Khe Sanh 

(NIAGARA I). General Momyer was to begin simultaneous planning for 

Operation NIAGARA proper (NIAGARA II). Operation NIAGARA owed 

its origins to Operation NEUTRALIZE of 1967. Mounted in defense of 

Con Thien, NEUTRALIZE had involved the coordination of all available 

air power assets—both tactical and strategic—with artillery and naval 

gunfire support. The same techniques, known as SLAM (for Seek, Locate, 

Annihilate and Monitor) were to be used in defense of Khe Sanh.23 

By January 1968, pressure was building for a revision of the command 

arrangements governing the control of air power in I Corps. More Army 

battalions necessitated increasing 7th Air Force activity to support them 

and as a result Marine combat sorties were declining as a percentage of 

the total flown in I Corps. Momyer told Westmoreland that the Marine 

arrangements for controlling air resources committed to Khe Sanh were 

inadequate and that centralized control was, therefore, essential.24 

On 17 January, therefore, Westmoreland informed Cushman that as a 

result of the increase in Army strength in I Corps, indications of impending 

149 
enemy offensive action and the concomitant requirement for him to be 

able to deploy his airpower in a more flexible manner, he was considering 

placing the operational control of I MAW under his deputy for air, “as a 

temporary measure to meet the current situation” and that, in order “to 

meet the threat in the Quang Tri-Thua Thien area” he had ordered Momyer 

to plan for the concentration of all available air resources, initially, in the 

defense of Khe Sanh (Operation NIAGARA II).25 Not surprisingly, General 

Cushman objected to such a proposal when he met with Westmoreland and 

Momyer to discuss the issue on the same day.26 

The Marines interpreted this measure as a repeat of the loss of 

operational control of their air assets to the Air Force that they had so 

bitterly opposed during the Korean War, a first step towards the formal 

centralization of air assets under Air Force control and the beginning of 

the end of the Marines’ air ground team. While the Marines regretted 

their experience at the hands of 5th Air Force during the Korean War, 

General Momyer made no secret of his belief that Khe Sanh presented an 

opportunity to return to the kind of arrangements for the command and 

control of tactical air resources that had obtained in Korea.27 

On 18 January 1968, following the ambush of a Marine patrol in the 

vicinity of Khe Sanh, General Westmoreland sent the following message 

to Sharp: 

The changing situation places a demand for greater 

organization and control of air resources and a premium 

on the need for rapid decision making. It is no longer 

feasible, nor prudent, to restrict the employment of the 

total tactical air resources to given areas. I feel the utmost 

need for a more flexible posture to shift my air effort where 

it can best be used in the coming battles. Consequently, 

I am proposing to give my Air Deputy operational 

control of the 1st Marine Air Wing, less the helicopters.28 

This was consistent with Westmoreland’s authority, under MACV 

Directive 95-4 of 1966, though Westmoreland argued that he had the 

authority simply by virtue of his position as commanding general of a 

unified fi eld command.29 

Against the background of escalating dispute between MACV, 

the Marines and the Air Force, Sharp was reluctant to change the 

command arrangements governing Marine air power in Vietnam. He told 

Westmoreland that the existing command arrangements seemed to “have 

worked well for nearly three years of combat,” and that his own objective 

was “to establish procedures which satisfy operational requirements, while 

150 
minimizing the interservice debate which has much newspaper appeal, but 

little in the way of constructive suggestions.” He refused to make any 

decision on single management until Westmoreland had re-examined 

Momyer and Cushman’s conflicting views on the matter.30 

A communist bombardment of Khe Sanh on 21 January prompted 

Westmoreland to order the implementation of NIAGARA II. Prevented, for 

the moment, from establishing actual single management, Westmoreland 

settled for greater coordination between the Air Force and the Marines. 

On 22 January, representatives of the 7th Air Force and the III Marine 

Amphibious Force met at Da Nang to discuss the issue and agreed to 

coordinate the Air Force Tactical Air Control System with the local Marine 

Direct Air Support Center at Khe Sanh through an Air Force Airborne 

Battlefield Command and Control Center (ABCCC) callsign HILLSBORO. 

As before, Marine aircraft would provide close air support to Marine units 

on the ground with surplus sorties being made available for 7th Air Force’s 

use. At their own insistence, the Marines would bear responsibility for air 

strikes in the immediate vicinity of the Khe Sanh combat base with the 

Air Force concentrating on deeper interdiction targets that might affect the 

tactical situation at Khe Sanh.31 

In the view of the commander of I MAW, General Norman J. Anderson, 

the Da Nang agreement constituted an acceptance by the Air Force that 

close air support of Marine ground forces was a job to be accomplished 

by the specialized members of the Marine air-ground team, while other 

air resources took on more distant targets, but although 7th Air Force 

representatives may have agreed to this arrangement at Khe Sanh, they 

did not agree with it as a matter of principle.32 Fundamentally, it placed 

limitations on the Air Force’s ability to shift and concentrate any and all 

air resources, including those of the Marines, anywhere within South 

Vietnam. Of course, the agreement reached at Da Nang concerned only 

the defense of Khe Sanh, not all of South Vietnam, or all of the Southeast 

Asian war zone, but even in regard to Khe Sanh, the agreement restricted 

the ability of the Air Force to shift resources throughout what it defi ned as 

the wider Khe Sanh battlefield encompassing Quang Tri and Thau Thien 

provinces, and including the immediate vicinity of the Khe Sanh combat 

base itself. 

While doctrinal considerations drove the Air Force’s campaign 

for single management, Westmoreland grew increasingly frustrated at 

Marine resistance to his initiatives and an apparent lack of any sense of 

urgency regarding Khe Sanh. On the same day as the Da Nang meeting, 

Westmoreland told the Chief of the General Staff General Earle Wheeler: 

151 
As you perhaps appreciate, the military professionalism 

of the Marines falls far short of the standards that 

should be demanded by our armed forces. Indeed, they 

are brave and proud, but their standards, tactics and 

lack of command supervision throughout their ranks 

requires improvement in the national interest . . . I would 

be less than frank if I did not say that I feel somewhat 

insecure with the situation in Quang Tri province . . . 33 

The Marines, however, were inclined to believe, with some 

justification, that the Air Force was “opportunistically” exploiting Khe 

Sanh as a mechanism by which to increase its control over Marine air 

assets as a precedent for the future. Marine suspicions in this respect were 

heightened by the expansion of the NIAGARA area of operations on 13 

and 14 February to encompass most of Quang Tri province and as far 

south as Hue in Thua Thien province. All tactical aircraft operating within 

this area had to report to ABCCC HILLSBORO for assignment to forward 

air controllers.34 

Marine protests over the expansion of the Operation NIAGARA area 

led to a further meeting on 17 February at III MAF headquarters in Da Nang 

between General Anderson and the 7th Air Force Deputy Chief of Staff 

Major General Gordon F. Blood to try to resolve the differences between 

the services on the issue. General Anderson assured General Blood of the 

Marines’ intention to cooperate with the Air Force, but stated his case that he 

could not see how the entire NIAGARA area could be associated with Khe 

Sanh. Furthermore, he argued that the arrangements would actually limit 

his ability to provide support for the Marines at the base. General Blood 

explained that 7th Air Force believed that air reconnaissance intelligence 

gathered from the entire NIAGARA area was relevant to Khe Sanh and 

that an interdiction effort throughout the area would also make a positive 

contribution to the defense of the base. At Da Nang, the two services had 

agreed that I MAW should be responsible for the defense of the immediate 

area around the Khe Sanh combat base, but now General Blood suggested 

that as most of the transport aircraft fl ying into Khe Sanh were Air Force 

aircraft, 7th Air Force should assume responsibility for flak-suppression 

missions in the vicinity of the base. Not surprisingly, Anderson objected, 

arguing that Khe Sanh was a Marine responsibility and that the Marines 

were already providing adequate support for the base and the transport 

aircraft servicing it.35 

The Air Force continued to press for full, single management on the 

grounds that the existence of two separate air control systems in I Corps 

caused serious coordination problems in the air defense of Khe Sanh. 

152 
According to one Air Force study, there was an uneven flow of aircraft 

over the target causing periodic congestion that was both dangerous and 

that sometimes necessitated the return of aircraft to their bases before they 

could attack targets. Transport aircraft sometimes flew through air strikes 

and sometimes B-52 strikes took place without the knowledge of other 

aircraft operating below their altitude.36 Sometimes, the Air Force claimed, 

Marine pilots attacked targets outside their assigned zones without checking 

in with the ABCCC.37 General Westmoreland decided to try for single 

management again and ordered the willing General Momyer to prepare the 

necessary plans in consultation with the reluctant General Cushman. Not 

surprisingly, General Momyer’s discussions on the issue with Generals 

Cushman and Anderson provoked further protest, but Westmoreland again 

proposed single management to Sharp on 26 February.38 

General Westmoreland’s immediate justification for his renewed 

request for single management did not, however, directly concern the 

coordination of aircraft at Khe Sanh. Rather, Westmoreland claimed that 

he was moved to request the system again as a result of the failure of the 

Marines to provide adequate air support for units of the Army’s First Air 

Cavalry division when it came under the operational control of III MAF at 

the end of January. During this period, Westmoreland personally instructed 

Generals Cushman and Anderson, at a meeting between all three, that he 

expected I MAW to provide the Army division’s air support. Yet, on a 

visit to the Commanding General of the Army division, General John J. 

Tolson’s headquarters, within the first couple of days after it had relocated 

to its position between the First and Third Marine Divisions, Westmoreland 

discovered that no contact had been established between the Air Cavalry 

and the Marines. Blaming the failure on the Marines, Westmoreland 

insisted that the incident necessitated prompt action to establish a single 

air control system in I Corps instead of the competing individual service 

systems which he described as a “dog’s breakfast.”39 

However, the Marines argued that while they had agreed to provide 

air support to the Air Cavalry, they understood it to be the Cavalry’s 

responsibility to establish the required communication nets with the 

division’s own resources. Cushman ordered Anderson to take action to 

resolve the problem and Marine communications specialists were then sent 

to the Army division.40 For what may have been perfectly logical reasons 

—possibly because of a lack of compatible communication equipment 

that had to be returned by previously supported Army units before it could 

be delivered to the Air Cavalry—it seems to have taken a further two 

or three days to establish the necessary communication nets, increasing 

Westmoreland’s frustration with the Marines.41 

153 
General Anderson of I MAW has stood this argument on its head 

by suggesting that single management was brought about not by the 

Marines’ failure, but by the Air Force’s failure to adequately support the 

Army’s First Cavalry Division. According to Anderson, once positioned in 

between two Marine divisions, General Tolson was able to observe that I 

MAW provided more air support to the Marine divisions than he received 

from 7th Air Force—a point that he made in situation reports to General 

Westmoreland. Therefore, Westmoreland took operational control of their 

aircraft away from the Marines to ensure that under the single management 

system increased Marine air support for Army units would make up for the 

inadequacy of Air Force support.42 

According to Anderson, the Air Force’s response to requests for better 

air support of the 1st Cavalry Division was to establish such a large area 

for Operation NIAGARA that it would bring not only all those aircraft 

operating in direct support of the Khe Sanh combat base, but also all 

those aircraft operating in support of the First Cavalry Division under the 

control of the Air Force’s Airborne Command and Control Center.43 This 

was, in Anderson’s view then, but a stepping stone towards full-blown 

single management and since the Army wanted better air support of Army 

ground units and single management seemed to be a way of achieving 

this aim, the Army—specifically General Westmoreland—was perfectly 

happy to press for single management. Equally, Westmoreland and his 

successor as COMUSMACV, General Creighton W. Abrams, were happy 

to maintain single management even after the emergency in I Corps had 

passed because, for them, better air support of Army units was the central 

issue behind the policy, not Khe Sanh. 

Anderson even goes so far as to suggest that it was this desire for 

improved air support that prompted Westmoreland to place the First Air 

Cavalry in between Marine divisions in the first place, thus precipitating a 

requirement for single-managed support for the Army division that would 

necessarily utilize Marine aircraft. Otherwise, it would have been more 

logical, says Anderson, to place the Army division on the flank of the 

Marines. That Westmoreland did not do this, said Anderson, must either 

be due to Westmoreland’s failure to understand the different capabilities 

and operating procedures of his subordinate forces, or a deliberate attempt 

to place the Air Force in a position where it would be obliged to introduce 

systems which would enable Army units to be provided with a similar 

level of air support to Marine units. 

Anderson may well have had a point that the extension of the Operation 

NIAGARA area was more due to Air Force doctrinal objectives than 

operational considerations. However, his argument that the Army used Khe 

154 
Sanh as an opportunity to improve air support for its units at the expense 

of the Marines seems to ignore Anderson’s own acceptance that the Air 

Cavalry incident served to crystallize Westmoreland’s decision to press 

ahead with single management, that a system to coordinate aircraft from 

many services in the immediate vicinity of Khe Sanh was necessary, that 

General Cushman had himself approved the deployment of the First Air 

Cavalry Division because the terrain suited light mobile forces, and that 

the Marines were also given the opportunity to consolidate their divisions 

in a separate corps from the Army divisions.44 In fact, the Army does seem 

to have enjoyed an improvement in the quality of its air support as a result 

of single management, but there seems little evidence that the Air Force 

was Westmoreland’s target. What does seem clear is that Westmoreland 

genuinely lost patience with the Marines and this prompted him, once 

more, to seek single management in February 1968. 

Anderson also, by implication, criticized what he saw as the selective 

unfairness of a single management system that singled out the more 

vulnerable Marines for treatment that was potentially fatal to their airground team while ignoring the Army because of its greater political 

clout. The point here is that single management did not include the Army’s 

helicopters. The Marine air control system did include both helicopters and 

fixed-wing aircraft and until the arrival of the Air Cavalry, with its large 

numbers of helicopters, in I Corp army rotary-wing aircraft in the region 

had conformed to the Marine system. The Air Cavalry’s armada of UH-1s 

swamped the Marine system, however, so that only the most general control 

could be maintained over these machines. Anderson argued that these 

machines were not included in single management because the Army and 

the Air Force had forged an unholy alliance with the McConnell-Johnson 

Agreement of 1966.45 To suggest that the Air Force was in bed with the 

Army is, of course, rather ironic since we know that the Air Force would 

have liked, not only to absorb the Army’s helicopters into its tactical air 

control system, but also into the Air Force itself where, presumably, their 

numbers would have been reduced. The McConnell-Johnson Agreement 

was, of course, a compromise designed, on the Air Force’s part, to preserve 

Air Force roles and mission, but every compromise involves losses and 

gains and the development of an Army helicopter force outside the Air 

Force’s air control system was clearly perceived as a loss within the 

service. 

As we have seen, the intensity of the fighting in I Corps sucked 

increasing numbers of Army units into the region. As the total number 

of allied units rose, it became necessary to bring in more Air Force (and 

155 
some Navy) air power to support the increased ground forces. This 

produced a situation in which two separate tactical air control systems 

were in operation in I Corps, leaving the way open for clashes between the 

Marines and the Air Force. Both services understood that the operation of 

two parallel systems was undesirable. The Air Force, doctrinally opposed 

to such an arrangement, sought to resolve it by the implementation of the 

single manager system. The Marines wanted the Air Force in I Corps to 

conform to their own procedures on the grounds that they had been solely 

responsible for the tactical zone for some time. 

Though doctrinally wedded to a more devolved tactical air control 

system, some Marines may even have desired the absorption of Air Force 

aircraft committed to the region into their own tactical air control system 

leading to a Marine single manager for I Corps who, presumably, would 

have been General Anderson.46 In a way, the Marines already had this 

when they enjoyed a virtual monopoly of air and ground forces in I Corps, 

but they began to lose it when the increase in Army ground forces led 

to a concomitant increase in 7th Air Force support for those units. The 

Marines themselves had sought the augmentation of their forces in I Corps 

with Army units because there were no more Marine units to be had, and 

in doing so, General Anderson and his predecessor at I MAW, General 

Keith B. McCutcheon, had considered simply factoring the Army units 

into their own air support system. This would have involved accepting 

responsibility for the air support of Army units—something the Marines 

never did. The idea was rejected on the grounds that it might suggest the 

Marines had spare air capacity, which they believed they did not, and that, 

according to General Anderson, “was likely to look like poaching an Air 

Force role.”47 Apart from the more obvious doctrinal justifi cation, another 

Air Force motive in seeking single management may have been the preempting of a loss of roles and missions to the Marines themselves, should 

III MAF try to obtain operational control of all air assets in I Corps, a 

region which the Marines had come to regard as their own special area of 

responsibility.48 

At last, Sharp approved Westmoreland’s proposal for a single manager 

on 2 March, with the modification that Marine requests for immediate 

air support should go directly to I MAW rather than through the 7th Air 

Force Tactical Air Control Center and the proviso that General Cushman 

retain the right of appeal above the level of MACV.49 Single management 

would undergo evaluation by CINCPAC over a 30-day period after initial 

implementation. 

156 
Under the original single management directive of 7 March, 

Westmoreland ordered I MAW to make its strike and reconnaissance 

aircraft available to the commander of 7th Air Force for what was termed 

“mission direction.”50 This was a new phrase without offi cial defi nition, but 

7th Air Force and III MAF/I MAW interpreted it as operational control. 

Before single management, the senior control agency for Marine 

air operations was the I MAW Tactical Air Direction Center (TADC) at 

I MAW headquarters, Camp Horn, Da Nang. Subordinate to the TADC 

were five Marine Direct Air Support Centers (DASCs) located at division 

level and below. (These Marine agencies are not to be confused with the 

USAF/VNAF Tactical Air Control System agencies of the same name 

that controlled Air Force tactical assets at the corps level.) Requests for 

preplanned air support missions were prepared by battalion commanders 

about a day in advance and sent up the chain of command to the division 

headquarters where a collocated DASC consolidated the requests. From 

there, the requests went to III MAF headquarters at Da Nang and thence to 

the collocated TADC where the details of the missions were fi nalized and 

orders dispatched to three Marine fixed-wing air groups for execution. The 

whole process took about 20 hours from request to the aircraft attacking the 

target.51 I MAW matched its available fighter-bomber sorties with requests 

for air support from Marine ground units and informed 7th Air Force, on a 

daily basis, of any surplus sorties. These excess sorties were then available 

for use by 7th Air Force for the support of non-Marine ground units or for 

missions outside South Vietnam.52 

Requests for immediate support by troops in contact with the enemy 

were sent from the ground unit concerned to the closest Marine DASC. If 

the request for support were approved, the Marine DASC could scramble 

ground alert aircraft of which a number, loaded with a variety of different 

ordinance configurations, were always on standby. This was the preferred 

Marine solution to immediate requests, but if necessary, the DASC could 

divert aircraft already on their way to preplanned targets in the area. 

The TADC at Da Nang monitored all Marine air operations and could 

divert aircraft from outside the DASC’s immediate region if required.53 In 

periods of particularly heavy fighting, the Marines might employ aircraft 

on airborne alert as a more responsive alternative to ground alert.54 

The Marine TADC was equivalent to the Air Force’s Direct Air 

Support Center (DASC) of which there was one in each Corps area. Thus, 

there were, effectively, two DASCs in I Corps: the USAF/VNAF IDASC 

and the marine TADC. As Air Force tactical air support doctrine called 

for the establishment of a DASC to support each Army Corps, a further 

157 
DASC—DASC VICTOR—subordinate to IDASC, was established at Phu 

Bai to support Provisional Corps Vietnam. Under single management, this 

arrangement was to be simplified by the merger of I DASC and the Marine 

TADC to form HORN DASC. Interestingly, while the Marines fought 

the centralization of their air power under Air Force control in the single 

management system, the VNAF also balked at the loss of operational 

control of its own air assets that it feared would result from the absorption 

of I DASC into HORN DASC. Consequently, I DASC remained operative 

for the direction of VNAF aircraft alongside DASC VICTOR and the new 

HORN DASC.55 

Under single management, the Marines had to adopt essentially the 

same system for preplanned air strikes as that operated by the Army. 

Requests for preplanned support were to proceed from battalion to the 

local Marine DASC, then to III MAF headquarters (via Provisional Corps 

Vietnam for the 3d Marine Division) from where they were to be sent to 7th 

Air Force headquarters at Than Son Nhut, Saigon and then to the 7th Air 

Force Tactical Air Control Center which allotted the available resources 

from both Air Force and Marine sources to approved targets. As far as 

possible, Marine aircraft were to support Marine ground units, but they 

could also be ordered to support non-Marine ground forces.56 Under the 

new system, I MAW no longer informed the 7th Air Force TACC of any 

sorties it deemed surplus to its immediate requirements, but was obliged 

to advise the TACC of its total capability on the basis of one sortie per 

aircraft, per day. The Air Force Tactical Air Control Center would also 

be able to divert preplanned Marine sorties and launch Marine ground 

alert aircraft for immediate support of troops in contact in the same way 

that it could for Air Force aircraft.57 Immediate requests for support under 

single management involved two additional stages after the local DASC: a 

Provisional Corps DASC (DASC VICTOR), followed by a I Corps DASC 

(IDASC). 

Apart from the immediate issue of losing a measure of control to the 

Air Force, the Marines objected to single management on the grounds that 

it was less responsive to the needs of the ground forces because the system 

was composed of a greater number of layers. There, undoubtedly, were more 

layers to single management and, in contrast with the earlier Marine system, 

it took much longer to implement, requiring Marine ground commanders 

to place their requests for air strikes about two days in advance rather 

than the one day that was previously required.58 Furthermore, adoption 

of the Air Force system involved a much greater reliance on preplanned 

and diverted missions than that of the Marines, thus sometimes depriving 

the original requestor of his air strikes, and increasing the problem of 

158 
diverted aircraft arriving over the target with inappropriate weapon loads. 

If missions were to be preplanned, then one might be forgiven for thinking 

they were important, but in Vietnam it seems that many missions were 

preplanned simply to provide an alert pool to fulfill immediate requests 

for support. According to Marine figures, only 5% of immediate requests 

for air support were met by diverted aircraft between 1 January and 10 

March—before the implementation of single management. In the week 

of 5-11 April 1968, after the implementation of single management, this 

figure had risen to 77% with the consequent loss of many preplanned air 

strikes. By illustration, on what the Marines believed to be the “typical” 

day of 20 April, of the 172 requests for preplanned air strikes by Marine 

ground commanders only 64 targets were approved by 7th Air Force and 

only 31 of these actually struck, as a result of diverting aircraft to fulfill 

immediate requests for support.59 

The Marines also feared that single management would result in the 

expenditure of an increasing number of I MAW sorties in support of the 

Army, thus reducing the aerial firepower available to the Marines on the 

ground. In fact, while the number of Marine sorties flown in support of 

the Army did increase, and the percentage of I MAW air strikes flown 

in support of III MAF did decrease, the actual number of I MAW sorties 

flown in support of III MAF did not decline appreciably. According to 

the Marines’ own figures, I MAW support for Army units averaged about 

1.1% of the total strike sorties flown prior to the implementation of single 

management.60 In March 1968, the month before single management was 

fully implemented, the number of I MAW sorties flown in support of Army 

units stood at 153 or 2.25% of the total flown, while I MAW sorties flown 

in support of Marine ground units stood at 6,030 or 88.9% of the total.61 

In the first month, after the implementation of single management, the 

number of I MAW sorties flown in support of the Marines had fallen to 

5,190 while Army support sorties had risen to 958.62 By the end of the 

year, I MAW sorties flown in support of the Army had risen to in excess 

of 20% of the total flown.63 However, I MAW had increased its sortie rate, 

thus maintaining a relatively steady number of sorties in support of Marine 

ground units despite this figure being a declining percentage of the total 

sorties flown. For example, while I MAW sorties in support of Marine 

ground forces declined to 77.6% of the total flown in May 1968, this figure 

still represented 6,088 sorties, more than I MAW had flown in support of 

Marine units in either March or April.64 

Though the number of Marine sorties flown in support of Marine 

ground forces remained roughly the same, the Marines were not happy 

with the extra strain the higher sortie rate imposed on planes and pilots. 

159 
Despite Marine reservations, this may simply represent a more effi cient use 

of the I MAW resource when applied to all allied services represented in I 

Corps. Single management involved at least the potential for the release of 

I MAW aircraft for purposes other than close air support. Interdiction and 

out-of-country air operations were part of MACV’s strategy on which Air 

Force air component commanders placed a high priority, but the Marines 

felt they should concentrate their own air assets on close support of III 

MAF in I Corps. Whatever one thinks of MACV’s strategy, this leaves the 

Marines open to the twin accusations that they concentrated only on their 

own private war in I Corps at the expense of the bigger picture and that in 

times of low-combat intensity Marine aviation assets were wasted by the 

Marine’s doctrinal insistence their aircraft be used exclusively for close 

air support tasks when they could have been employed on interdiction 

missions.65 

Despite the association of single management with Khe Sanh, the 

system was actually implemented too late to have much effect on the battle 

and continued long after the emergency represented by the siege and the 

Tet Offensive had passed. On 9 March, the Marines received a directive 

to implement single management on the following day, but they were able 

to delay compliance until 21 March, while the Marine and Air Force air 

control systems were integrated in I Corps.66 The first preplanned sorties 

did not begin until 22 March, only nine days before the end of Operation 

NIAGARA on the 31st.67 Training of Marine and Air Force personnel 

for joint operation of HORN DASC and DASC VICTOR was not finally 

completed until 1 April, the day after NIAGARA ended.68 Only one week 

later, the siege of Khe Sanh was lifted. Of course, implementation of single 

management back in January would probably have established the system 

by the time of Operation NIAGARA, but the evidence suggests that Khe 

Sanh was not Westmoreland’s only justification in establishing the system. 

We know General Westmoreland had requested something like single 

management as far back as 1965 and, once established, single management 

continued even into the post-Tet, US withdrawal period where a general 

decline in combat activity might be said to have reduced the requirement 

for the system still further.69 

On the assumption that if the system were shown to be faulty then it 

would be abandoned, the Marines were, if anything, even more critical 

of single management after it had been implemented than they had 

been before.70 Marine hopes that the departure of Westmoreland from 

South Vietnam might have this effect were dashed when his successor, 

General Abrams decided to continue with the system. However, while the 

Marines were unsuccessful in their ultimate objective of abolishing single 

160 
management, they did succeed in forcing extensive modifications to the 

system. 

Largely, as a result of Marine pressure, Westmoreland ordered a 

modification of single management as it affected preplanned close air 

support missions to go into effect on 30 May. This involved the division 

of Marine preplanned sorties into two groups. 30% of these Marine sorties 

were to continue to be handled on a daily basis under the existing single 

management procedures, but the other 70% were to be included in a new 

weekly fragmentary order. While, in theory, this involved 7th Air Force 

allotting mission information to Marine aircraft as much as a week in 

advance of the actual sorties, in practice, it amounted to handing back 

70% of Marine sorties for use in any way that the ground commanders 

to be supported saw fit.71 This was roughly the same percentage of 1st 

Marine Aircraft Wing sorties as were directly allotted Marine ground units 

before the introduction of single management.72 The remaining 30% of 

preplanned sorties would continue be allocated by 7th Air Force on a daily 

basis. 

Marine resistance to single management was probably reinforced by the 

fact that while heavy bomber operations were coordinated with the single 

management effort by Strategic Air Command (SAC), offi cers serving 

at 7th Air Force Headquarters, the B-52s, remained formally outside the 

system. There were a number of reasons for this seeming anomaly. As we 

have seen, the Air Force’s emphasis on strategic air warfare had led it to 

prioritize SAC over the Tactical Air Command. As the US government’s 

official position on the war in Vietnam placed the source of the South 

Vietnamese insurgency north of the DMZ, many Air Force offi cers believed 

that the best air strategy for the War would involve an intensive strategic air 

campaign against North Vietnam. In the Air Force’s view, the ROLLING 

THUNDER campaign against the North was not the realization of this 

strategy because it involved only a gradual increase in the application of 

air power on the assumption that there would come a point at which the 

North would withdraw from the war. In addition to the target limitations 

of ROLLING THUNDER, SAC’s B-52s were not employed over North 

Vietnam, though paradoxically, they were used in a tactical role over South 

Vietnam while Air Force and Navy tactical fighter-bombers carried the war 

to the North. Air Force commanders preferred to hold SAC’s aircraft apart 

from the rest of the Air Force’s operations in South Vietnam in readiness 

for their reversion to their primary strategic role in the event of a national 

emergency, or their employment in a campaign against the North which 

coincided more closely with the Air Force ideal—as finally happened in 

the LINEBACKER I and II campaigns of 1972. Some Air Force officers 

161 
appreciated that this intraservice division was hardly a positive example 

to those other services whose own air power assets the Air Force wished 

to include in single management. Admiral Sharp also subscribed to the Air 

Force view that an intensive strategic campaign against North Vietnam 

was likely to be decisive and he reinforced the exclusion of the B-52s from 

the single management system by insisting on retaining control of the air 

war over the North rather than placing it under the operational control of 

COMUSMACV. 

Shortly before the implementation of single management, Commandant 

of the Marine Corps, General Leonard Chapman, took III MAF’s case to the 

Joint Chiefs of Staff. The Marines argued that single management would 

result in increasing the response time of air support for Marine ground 

forces because of the additional levels of authority through which requests 

for air support would have to be processed. In the Marines’ view, this 

made single management wrong, but they also argued that in invoking the 

single management directive, Westmoreland had exceeded his authority 

by placing I MAW aircraft under Momyer’s control as this contravened 

the establishment of III MAF as an autonomous command. As the JCS 

itself had approved this arrangement in 1966, the Marines argued that only 

the JCS had the authority to change it.73 

The Chiefs found themselves divided on the issue of single 

management with the fracture conforming to perhaps predictable service 

lines—with one notable exception. Given the Air Force doctrine of the 

centralization of air assets under Air Force control and the fact that he had 

himself commanded 7th Air Force’s precursor in South Vietnam, the 2d 

Air Division, Air Force Chief of Staff General John P. McConnell could 

be relied upon to support Westmoreland’s appointment of his Air Force 

component commander as single manager. In fact, McConnell wanted to 

go further, telling the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Army General 

Earle Wheeler: 

Westy has now done something he should have done 

a long time ago. He should also, in my opinion, place 

Navy air into the same structure. Also, I consider that 

Westy has the authority to do what he has done.74 

Wheeler too, as an Army officer, predictably, supported the Army 

COMUSMACV. As part of the Navy, the Marines might also have expected 

to receive the support of the Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Thomas 

C. Moorer, and were not disappointed in this respect. After all, the next 

step might be, as McConnell had suggested, for Westmoreland to extend 

single management to include Navy aircraft as well.75 

162 
The Marines also received support from an unexpected quarter; Army 

Chief of Staff General Harold K. Johnson who cut across service lines to 

endorse the Marine case. At first sight, this might appear a rejection of the 

narrow parochialism of which the chiefs have sometimes been accused, 

but it seems reasonably clear that Johnson’s decision not to support 

Westmoreland was less motivated by the immediate operational concerns 

of the war in South Vietnam than by longer-term considerations. A public 

dispute with the Air Force over single management might prompt the latter 

service to demand a more extensive version of the system, which might 

include the Army’s helicopters that were so conspicuously absent from 

Westmoreland’s directives. Johnson’s sensitivity to this issue is suggested 

by his reaction to a proposal that the Army establish an aviation command 

in US Army Vietnam (MACV’s Army component): ". . . we should all 

recognize that the dispute over who flies and owns rotary-wing resources 

is far from dead. Continuing compartmentalization of [Army] aviation 

simply establishes a target for opponents of Army aviation to snipe at or to 

seize.”76 For his part, Westmoreland objected to what he saw as “parochial 

considerations’ impinging on his right as the commander to make on-thespot decisions and use resources on the basis of operational responsibilities, 

and he even considered resigning over the issue.77 

This is not to say, as General Anderson did, that the Army was in 

bed with the Air Force over single management. There seems little or no 

evidence of collusion between the two services on this issue, but General 

Johnson was being cautious lest Army opposition to single management 

cause the revisiting of the 1966 McConnell-Johnson Agreement, and the 

Air Force seems to have taken the view that as a result of that agreement, 

a line had been clearly drawn between fixed-wing aircraft, which were an 

Air Force responsibility, and rotary-wing aircraft, which were an Army 

responsibility. Thus, the very decision by the Army Chief of Staff not to 

challenge single management was itself rooted in another area of dispute 

between the services over airpower issues. 

Unable to reach a decision amongst the Chiefs, General Wheeler 

was obliged to pass the issue on to Secretary of Defense Clark Clifford, 

but he did so with the advice that Westmoreland’s justification of single 

management in the context of the emergency at Khe Sanh meant that the 

proposal must be regarded as a temporary arrangement designed to meet 

local circumstances, likely to be modified as those circumstances changed. 

Single management could not, therefore, be taken as a precedent for the 

formal centralization of air power across all services in the future. It was, 

as such, a temporary expedient that Deputy Secretary of Defense Paul 

Nitze approved single management on 15 May 1968. However, he ordered 

163 
that the system be subject to monthly evaluation and was quite specifi c that 

single management in this case should not be taken as a precedent for the 

centralized control of air operations in the future. General Westmoreland 

should “revert to normal command arrangements for III MAF when the 

tactical situation permits.”78 The debate on single management does not 

seem to have stopped with the office of the Secretary of Defense. General 

Cushman tried to take the issue to the very top and General Westmoreland 

reported that he did receive a telephone call from President Johnson asking 

him if he was “screwing the Marines.”79 

Despite the conclusion of NIAGARA, single management continued 

to receive the endorsement of the Office of the Secretary of Defense even 

after the end of the emergency at Khe Sanh that had, supposedly, formed 

its primary justification. Monthly evaluations of the single management 

system continued until September 1968 when General Wheeler reported 

to the Secretary of Defense that the system was working well and should 

be continued for as long as Westmoreland saw fit. Secretary Nitze agreed 

though General Chapman did not concur with Wheeler’s analysis. Indeed 

the Marines never ceased to criticize single management until the system 

finally became inoperative by default with the withdrawal of the Marines 

from South Vietnam by June 1971. 

However, the stridency of this criticism abated somewhat as 

the modifications to single management—the retention of exclusive 

arrangements for immediate requests for support by Marine ground troops 

in contact with the enemy, the return to Marine control of aircraft to meet 

specific requirements such as helicopter escort, the return of 70% of their 

available sorties for weekly allocation by the Marines themselves, plus 

the fact that the Marines were allowed to calculate their available aircraft 

on the basis of one sortie per aircraft when they could in fact produce 

more sorties than this—increasingly indicated that the Marines had not, in 

practice, lost operational control of their airpower to the single manager. 

In early 1970, General McCutcheon—a former commander of I MAW and 

Deputy Chief of Staff for Air at Marine Corps Headquarters—returned to 

South Vietnam as the new commander of III MAF. Though opposed to 

single management in principle, McCutcheon believed that the system, 

as it had evolved in South Vietnam, was not significantly less responsive 

to Marine requests for support than that of the Marines themselves, and 

it was actually more responsive to the needs of the Army. McCutcheon, 

therefore, seems to have adopted a cooler, more philosophical approach to 

single management than some of his predecessors at III MAF and I MAW, 

preferring to work within the system to ameliorate what the Marines saw 

as its worst features rather than rage against the system from without. 

164 
However, while McCutcheon believed that single management, as it 

developed in South Vietnam, did not take operational control of Marine 

aircraft away from the commander of III MAF, even he worried that it 

might be only the beginning of a process by which the Marines would lose 

such operational control in the future. If so, this would be a threat to the 

Marine air-ground team.80 In McCutcheon’s view, this threat was allayed, 

however, by a revision of MACV Directive 95-4 on air support in 1970. 

This defined the terms “mission direction” and “operational direction” 

used in the original single management directive as the authority of one 

commander to assign specific tasks to another commander, reaffi rming, at 

least in McCutcheon’s mind, “that operational control of Marine air would 

still be under the commanding general of III MAF who in turn would be 

under the operational control of MACV.” As a consequence, McCutcheon 

came to believe that perhaps the Marines “reacted a little too strongly, 

fearing that they [the Air Force] were going to grab operational control 

and we didn’t have as much to fear as we thought we did.”81 

If Khe Sanh was to be held, it had to be supplied, and General 

Westmoreland believed he had the capability to do so by air. While the 

Marines were eager to retain their responsibility for the close air support 

of Khe Sanh, they were perfectly willing for the Air Force to provide most 

of the tactical air transport aircraft to supply the combat base itself, and 

the Air Force was equally happy that the Marines provide the transport 

helicopters to supply the surrounding hill outposts. 

Khe Sanh provided an opportunity to test the competing views of the 

Army and the Air Force with regard to the use of fi xed-wing transport 

aircraft operating into forward bases under fire. Though the lighter C-7s 

and C-123s favored by the Army did fulfill a vital role hauling the most 

fragile loads into and out of Khe Sanh, they alone could not supply the 

base. The Air Force’s preferred C-130s were vital to the survival of Khe 

Sanh though the siege proved the value of a greater STOL capability than 

that possessed by the heavier Air Force transports. 

Ultimately, single management was implemented in South Vietnam. 

In a holistic sense, this was probably a better system for MACV than 

the arrangements for I Corps that had preceded it. Single management 

permitted COMUSMACV greater control over the use of his air assets 

than he had before the system was implemented. Whereas the Air Force 

had dictated the proportion of sorties flown inside and outside Vietnam, 

and within each Corps area, under single management, Westmoreland was 

able to do this.82 The system provided slightly more potential for the use of 

the excellent Marine aviation assets in pursuit of MACV’s overall strategy 

165 
for the war in South Vietnam rather than exclusively in pursuit of a limited 

Marine strategy for I Corps. The system also led to some improvement in 

air support for Army units without dramatically affecting the quality of air 

support received by Marine ground units. 

The Marines did suffer as a result of the introduction of single 

management. It certainly introduced more layers into the tactical air control 

system, making it somewhat less responsive to the needs of Marine ground 

units, and single management did rely more heavily on diverted aircraft 

to fulfill immediate requests for air support than the exclusive Marine 

system. While the Marines never ceased to criticize single management, 

compromise agreements with the Air Force did dramatically decrease 

the severity of its effects on I MAW. If one of the objectives of single 

management was to remove operational control of Marine aircraft from 

the Marines and give it to an air component single manager, the system fell 

far short of this ideal in practice. As we have seen, 70% of Marine sorties 

were reallocated back to I MAW on a weekly basis and the Wing continued 

to make its own decisions regarding the availability of air assets, releasing 

only sorties—not aircraft—to the single management system. In fact, the 

weekly apportionment of 70% of strikes to major ground commanders 

might be said to have constituted a decentralized system of the type favored 

by the Army and the Marines. In practice, then, the Marines never entirely 

lost operational control of their aircraft and the best the Air Force got was 

a combination of the Air Force and Marine systems rather than the system 

it really desired.83 While this may not have been the Air Force ideal, it 

may have been consistent with Westmoreland’s objectives.84 In fact, single 

management fell so far short of the Air Force ideal that on 22 June 1968, 

General McCutcheon was able to write to Major Charles J. Quilter who 

replaced General Anderson as commanding general of I MAW:

 . . . it is only us Marines who have noticed the 

diminution in effectiveness’ caused by single 

management and, in any case, this ‘diminution in 

effectiveness’ ‘isn’t very much now since they [the 

Air Force] incorporated all our suggested changes.85 

In fact, in the view of some Marines, the Air Force was too 

accommodating on the issue of single management. They believed that 

the Air Force was so willing to compromise with the Marines that the 

net effect was to defuse Marine arguments for the abandonment of the 

system.86 Writing of the 2 May 1968 review of single management, General 

Anderson noted: 

166 
The tenor of this discussion leads me to believe that the Air 

Force knows it is in some trouble on single management 

and is willing to modify the system in major respects to 

keep the system in force . . . I feel 7th Air Force will go to any 

length to maintain the air control and scheduling authority 

single management gives them, in such an atmosphere 

of accommodation we will be hard pressed to obtain a 

reversal of the decision to implement single management.87 

Both services applied doctrinally proscribed views to the circumstances 

of Khe Sanh, but doctrine is a device for application to operational 

circumstances. The Air Force consciously exploited the opportunity 

presented by the siege as a way of achieving its desired goal of single 

management—where this meant seizing operational control of Marine 

aircraft—but its officers sincerely believed that this would provide the 

best air support for MACV as a whole. The Marines believed that their 

own concept would provide the best support for the immediate defenders 

of Khe Sanh who were, of course, mostly Marines. General Westmoreland 

came to side with the Air Force view, not because he subscribed to Air 

Force doctrine per se, but because he became convinced that it would 

resolve what he saw as the MACV dilemmas of poor Marine air support 

for Army formations and poor coordination between Air Force and Marine 

aircraft in I Corps. 

Admiral Sharp’s inhibition of Westmoreland’s attempts to establish 

single management were, according to Sharp, due to the belief that there 

were not sufficient Army units in I Corps to justify the initiative and to 

minimize interservice dispute between the Air Force, Marines and MACV, 

but it may also have been due to other factors. As a Navy offi cer, Sharp 

might be expected to take the Marines’ part and he was, perhaps, also 

reluctant to allow Westmoreland to accrue too much power at CINCPAC’s 

expense. Sharp, whose tour as CINCPAC was up in July 1968, may not 

have wished to hand over to his successor, Admiral John C. McCain, 

an authority which was in any way diminished by Westmoreland’s 

assumption of greater control of 7th Air Force and Marine air power. 

Certainly the fact that Sharp could inhibit Westmoreland’s initiatives was 

due to the peculiar command arrangements which split the war into two 

halves, denying COMUSMACV the status of a full theater commander 

and retaining exclusive responsibility for the war over North Vietnam 

with CINCPAC. Ultimately, Sharp agreed to single management on the 

grounds that the number of Army units in I Corps now exceeded those of 

the Marines, but from his headquarters in distant Honolulu, he may also 

have become conscious of the political risks of continued dispute with 

167 
Westmoreland as the commander on the ground in Saigon. Once the single 

management directive was finally issued, it was not fully implemented 

until after the emergency at Khe Sanh had passed. There seems little doubt 

that the Marines dragged their feet over this, but the system would clearly 

have been in place in time for the beginning of the siege proper had Sharp 

acceded to Westmoreland’s earlier requests. 

Not only did the Marines drag their feet over the actual installation 

of the single management system, but they also took their criticisms to 

the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Department of Defense. In doing so, the 

Marines largely restricted themselves to channels of protest deliberately 

opened for them by Admiral Sharp. In the JCS, they found an unlikely ally 

in the shape of General Johnson who worried less about the immediate 

operational issues in South Vietnam than he did about the possibility that 

a public dispute with the Air Force might lead to a reassessment of the 

Army’s control of helicopters as secured under his 1966 agreement with 

Air Force Chief of Staff, General McConnell. This made it impossible 

for the Joint Chiefs to give a clear line on single management until 

Westmoreland himself became Army Chief of Staff, and involved the 

office of the Secretary of Defense, with its tendency towards bureaucratic 

compromise, in the issue. 

Westmoreland complained that the Marines made single management 

a doctrinal issue with the Joint Chiefs.88 Given that, ultimately, the system 

was so diluted that the Marines retained a good measure of operational 

control of their own aviation assets, their initial protests do appear to have 

had a hysterical quality, but in truth, single management was a doctrinal 

issue because its full implementation threatened the Marine air-ground 

team and the loss of the air-ground team threatened the amphibious warfare 

specialty that had formed the very raison d’etre of the Corps since the 

Second World War. That the Marines should oppose single management so 

vociferously was, therefore, inherent in the very existence of the Corps as 

a separate combined arms sub-service with its own air force. 

In South Vietnam, the Marines were engaged in a sustained land 

campaign rather than the limited duration amphibious operations envisaged 

in their primary mission. At the time of Khe Sanh, the Marines had been 

in South Vietnam for three years and they were able to benefi t from Army 

firebase support in addition to their own limited artillery assets.89 Thus, 

single management could be justified, as it indeed was, as a temporary 

expedient in the immediate circumstances of Vietnam with the implication 

that it need not set a precedent for the dismantling of the Marine airground team in future, a point that Deputy Secretary Nitze made when 

168 
he approved single management in 1968. However, the Marines worried 

that single management in Vietnam might still establish a precedent by 

which the Marine air-ground team would be lost in perpetuity—whatever 

the peculiarities of the immediate context—and there seems little doubt 

that this is what the Air Force hoped to achieve. The Marines countered 

the single management initiative with the argument that this was in itself 

an operational issue should the Marines be called upon to perform their 

primary amphibious mission in the Vietnamese context.90 The Marines 

had, in fact, launched no less than 43 minor amphibious operations in 

South Vietnam between 1965 and 1967 and expected to participate in any 

amphibious operations north of the DMZ under consideration by General 

Westmoreland, should these ever materialize.91 Thus, in the Marine view, 

the Marine air-ground team must be preserved, not only for the fulfillment 

of the Marine primary mission in the future, but also in the immediate 

context of Vietnam. 

Single management was also a doctrinal issue in the sense that, while 

it was technically a temporary expedient designed to meet immediate 

operational requirements, if fully implemented, it represented a temporary 

realization of Air Force doctrine regarding the centralization of air power 

assets. Regardless of its officially temporary status, single management 

was, as we have seen, actually a very open-ended arrangement, but despite 

its title, with its implication that there was now one tactical air control 

system, single management was not in fact the full realization of the Air 

Force concept as the Marines retained de facto operational control of much 

of their air power assets. This left the way clear for continued dispute after 

the Vietnam War.92 

169 
NOTES 

1. Dr Harold Brown, Sec of AF, Remarks before the Phoenix Chamber of 

Commerce (16 May 1968), Selected Statements on Vietnam by DoD and Other 

Administration Officials, 1 Jan-30 June 1968, Air Force Historical Research 

Agency (hereinafter referred to as AFHRA), Maxwell AFB., AL., K168.04-47. 

2. William W. Momyer, Airpower in Three Wars (New York, 1980), 306­

308. 

3. Roy L. Bowers, The United States Air Force in Southeast Asia, Tactical 

Airlift (Washington, DC: Office of Air Force History, 1983), 295-296. 

4. However, as the author of the USAF official history has pointed out, 

it was not really the failure of the French re-supply effort at Dien Bien Phu that 

caused the base to fall. In fact the weight of supplies delivered by air to the 

defenders of Dien Bien Phu was about the same as that brought overland by 

their more numerous attackers. Consequently, even if the French, in 1952, had 

possessed the airlift capability the United States enjoyed in 1968, they would 

still have suffered defeat at Dien Bien Phu. Ibid., 20. 

5. I MAW Command Chronology, March 1968, Marine Corps Historical 

Center (hereinafter referred to as MCHC), p. 2-2. American commentators have 

tended to place remarkable faith in largely anecdotal evidence that the survival 

of Khe Sanh was due to the success of US air power in spoiling Communist 

assault preparations and inflicting heavy casualties on a largely unseen enemy. 

In any case, the Air Force official historian John Schlight has pointed out that 

the air support of Khe Sanh may not have been without cost as it absorbed 

some 50% of the US air effort in South Vietnam for about two months. While 

there were sufficient air assets to service the requirements of both Khe Sanh 

and the Tet Offensive this left the communists “with a permissive environment 

in which to prepare for a second offensive in May.” John Schlight, The United 

States Air Force in Southeast Asia, The War in South Vietnam, The Years of the 

Offensive, 1965-1968 (Washington, DC: Office of Air Force History, 1988), 285. 

Contemporary commentators and historians, subsequently, have even questioned 

the seriousness of Communist intentions towards the base, suggesting that the 

siege was merely a ruse designed to lure allied forces away from the targets 

of the Tet offensive. It does, however, at least seem reasonably clear that the 

communists would have assaulted the base had they felt they could do so at little 

cost. 

6. Warren A Trest, “Khe Sanh (Operation NIAGARA), 22 January-31 

March 1968, Special Report” (13 September 1968), Contemporary Historical 

Examination of Current Operations (CHECO) Report, AFHRA, K717.0413-35, 

13 September 1968, 1:46. 

7. Bernard C. Nalty, Air Power and the Fight for Khe Sanh (Washington, 

DC: Office of Air Force History, 1986), 99. 

8. III MAF Command Chronology, April 1968, MCHC, 9. 

170 
9. The KC-130 was an in-flight refuelling tanker variant of the C-130 that 

could be rapidly reconfigured for conventional cargo haulage. 

10. Nalty, op cit, 8-9. 

11. Ibid, pp. 35-36 & 43-45; & Jack Shulimson et al, U.S. Marines in 

Vietnam, The Defi ning Year, 1968 (Washington, DC: History and Museums 

Division, Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps, 1997), 480-481. 

12. Bowers, op cit, 302-303. 

13. Nalty, op cit, 56. 

14. Report of CINCPAC Tactical Air Support Procedures Board (December 

1963), McCutcheon Papers, MCHC, 6:2. 

15. In a 1969 interview the commander of the 2d Air Division General 

Rollen H. Anthis said that he had desired the implementation of a single 

management system that would include not only Air Force and Marine assets, 

but also the Army’s helicopters. Rollen H. Anthis, Interview (17 November 

1969), U.S. Air Force Oral History Program, AFHRA, K239.0512-240, 46-47. 

16. Keith B. McCutcheon, “Marine Aviation in Vietnam, 1962-1970,” U.S. 

Naval Institute Proceedings, 1971, 135-136. 

17. Shulimson, op cit, 466. 

18. Schlight, op cit, 162 & The Pentagon Papers, Senator Gravel Edition, 

Boston: Beacon, 1971, Vol. 3, 2,200-2,201. 

19. III MAF Command Chronology (January 1968), MCHC, 8. 

20. Ibid. (February 1968), 8. 

21. Donald J. Mrozek, Air Power and the Ground War in Vietnam, Ideas 

and Actions (Maxwell A.F.B., AL, 1988), 42 & III MAF Command Chronology 

(March 1968), MCHC, 8. 

22. Norman J. Anderson, Draft Memo: “Single Management of Marine 

Fixed-Wing Air Assets in Southeast Asia” (12 March 1969), Anderson Papers, 

MCHC, 6-7. 

23. William C. Westmoreland, A Soldier Reports (New York, 1980), 266. 

24. Momyer, op cit, 109. 

25. Westmoreland to Sharp (21 January 1968) Westmoreland Papers, 

Message File, COMUSMACV (1-31 January 1968), Box 15, Folder 376, RG 

319, US National Archives, College Park, MD. (hereinafter referred to as 

USNA). 

26. Willard J. Webb, “The Single Manager for Air in Vietnam,” Joint Force 

Quarterly (Winter 1993-94), 91. 

27. Robert M. Burch, “Single Manager for Air in South Vietnam, MayDecember 1968” (18 March 1969) CHECO Report, AFHRA, K717.0413-39, 

Vol. 1, p. 5 & Anderson to Simmons (8 September 1983), Anderson Papers, 

MCHC, 4. 

28. Quoted in Momyer, op cit., 309. 

29. Ibid., 81-82 & 88-106. 

30. Sharp to Westmoreland (22 January 1968), Westmoreland Papers, Box 

15, Folder 376, Message File, COMUSMACV (1-31 January 1968). 

31. Schlight, op cit., 277-278. 

171 
32. Quoted in Nalty, op cit., 73. 

33. Westmoreland to Wheeler (22 January 1968), Westmoreland Papers, 

Box 15, Folder 376, Message File, COMUSMACV (1-31 January 1968). 

34. In a 1983 interview General Anderson was quite specific that he did 

not believe, “that the enlargement of the area for Operation NIAGARA was 

justified. It could have been enlarged in the direction of the enemy, but to 

enlarge it in reverse, in the direction of the base of the 1st Cavalry Division 

(Airmobile) in order to encompass their base and therefore to have 7th Air Force 

responsible for the coordination of all air operations that related to the Cavalry 

Division’s work - seemed to me to be opportunistically jumping on a situation in 

order to develop a rationale for its continuance, for continuing its control” [sic]. 

Norman J. Anderson, MG. (USMC), Interview (1983), USMC Oral History 

Collection, MCHC, 227. 

35. Anderson’s summation of the conference with Blood was that: “In 

all the...areas the divergence of opinion was clear. In none other than timesharing was there any meeting of minds.” Norman J. Anderson, Memo for the 

Record, Subj.: “Control of Air in the Defence of Khe Sanh” (17 February 1968), 

Anderson Papers, 4. 

36. John J. Sbrega, “Southeast Asia,” Benjamin F. Cooling, ed., Case 

Studies in the Development of Close Air Support (Washington, DC: Offi ce of Air 

Force History, 1990), 457. 

37. Schlight, op cit., 286. 

38. Shulimson, op cit., 491. 

39. Westmoreland, A Soldier Reports, 450. 

40. Anderson to Simmons (8 September 1983), Anderson Papers, 4. 

41. Stephen J. McNamara, Air Power’s Gordian Knot: Centralized Versus 

Organic Control (Maxwell A.F.B., AL., 1994), 117, n.51. 

42. Anderson may have simply been producing a “counter rationale” with 

which to combat Air Force pressure for the continuance of single management. 

Anderson, “Single Management of Marine Corps Fixed-Wing Air Assets in 

Southeast Asia,” 1-2. 

43. Ibid., 6-7 & Anderson, Interview, 193. 

44. Anderson, “Single Management of Marine Corps Fixed-Wing Air 

Assets in Southeast Asia,” 13-14. 

45. Anderson, Interview, 197-198 & Anderson, Memo for the Record, 

Subj.: “Control of Air Defence of Khe Sanh,” (17 February 1968), Anderson 

Papers, 3. 

46. Anderson, Interview, 195. 

47. Anderson, “Single Management of Marine Fixed-Wing Air Assets in 

Southeast Asia,” 10. 

48. According to General McCutcheon, as the fighting at Khe Sanh 

escalated, message traffic between 7th Air Force and Pacifi c Air Force 

headquarters, read by the Marines, suggests this. McCutcheon, Keith B., 

Interview (1971), AFHRA, K239.0512-1164, 8-9. 

49. Nalty, op cit., 77 & Sbrega, op cit., 457. 

172 
50. I MAW Command Chronology (March 1968), 2-2. 

51. Shulimson, op cit., 467-469. 

52. McCutcheon, “Marine Aviation in Vietnam,” 137. 

53. Sbrega, op cit., 460. 

54. Shulimson, op cit., 469-470. 

55. John J. Lane Jr., The Air War in Indochina, Vol.1, Monograph 1, 

Command and Control and Communications Structures in Southeast Asia 

(Maxwell A.F.B., AL: Air War College, 1981), 83-85. 

56. Webb, op cit., 93. 

57. Nalty, op cit., 78-79. 

58. Shulimson, op cit., 498. 

59. Sbrega, op cit., pp. 460-461. In a memo on the 2 May 1968 review 

of single management, General Anderson noted that: “It seemed agreed by 

all, including General Momyer, that preplanning merely results in placing a 

certain amount of air effort airborne and available for any use a specifi c ground 

commander may wish.” Norman J Anderson, Memo for the Record, Subj.: 

“Single Management of Strike and Reconnaissance Assets” (n.d.), Anderson 

Papers, 3. 

60. I MAW Command Chronology (October 1968), 8. 

61. Ibid. (March 1968), 2-3. 

62. Ibid. (April 1968), 2-2. 

63. The figure stood at 26.4% in November 1968. Ibid. (November 1968), 

p. 8 & (December 1968), 9. 

64. Ibid, (May 1968), 2-2. 

65. William W. Momyer, Memo for Frank M. Batha, Subj. “Airpower in 

the Vietnam War” (27 October 1981), MCHC. 

66. Anderson, Interview, 216. 

67. Cushman to Westmoreland, Memo: “Single Management of Strike and 

Reconnaissance Assets, Summary of the Situation as of 31 March,” Anderson 

Papers. 

68. Robert F. Futrell, Ideas, Concepts, Doctrine: Basic Thinking in the 

United States Air Force, 1961-1984 (Maxwell A.F.B., AL., 1989), 285. 

69. Sbrega, op cit., 463. 

70. Anderson, Interview, 201. On 2 May 1968, at a meeting at the 

headquarters of Provisional Corps Vietnam to review single management after 

one month’s operation, General Momyer said that the purpose of the meeting 

was to correct any flaws in single management. General Anderson subsequently 

noted that he saw the purpose of the meeting as to decide whether single 

management should continue. Anderson, “Single Management of Strike and 

Reconnaissance Assets,” 1-3. 

71. Shulimson, op cit., p. 507. 

72. Anderson, “Single Management of Marine Corps Fixed-Wing Air 

Assets in Southeast Asia,” 8-9. 

73. Web, op cit., 94. 

74. McConnell to Wheeler (4 March 1968), quoted in ibid, 93. 

173 
75. Shulimson, op cit., 495. 

76. Johnson to Beach (CINCUSARPAC), Subj.: “Activation of an Aviation 

command in USARV,” (062130Z Jun.), Westmoreland Papers, Box 13, Folder 

364, Message File, COMUSMACV, 1 April-30 June 1967. 

77. Westmoreland, A Soldier Reports, 451-452. 

78. Nitze quoted in Futrell, op cit., 284. 

79. Sbrega, op cit., 462; Shulimson, op cit. 495 & Westmoreland, A Soldier 

Reports, 452-453. 

80. McCutcheon, op cit., 137-138. 

81. McCutcheon, Interview, 6-7. 

82. Ibid., 9-10. 

83. Stephen J. McNamara, op cit, 112. 

84. Westmoreland said that he wanted a system for MACV that would 

combine the best features of the Air Force and Marine house systems. Orr Kelly, 

“Dispute Over Khe Sanh Lingers On,” Washington Star (11 January 1972). 

85. Shulimson, op cit., 512. 

86. Anderson, Interview, 201 & Anderson, “Single Management of Strike 

and Reconnaissance Assets,” 1-3. 

87. Anderson, “Single Management of Strike and Reconnaissance Assets,” 

4. 

88. Westmoreland, A Soldier Reports, 451. 

89. At Khe Sanh the Marines received artillery support from sixteen Army 

175mm guns situated fourteen miles away at Camp Carrol. 

90. Anderson, Interview, 196-197. 

91. Sbrega, op cit., 459. 

92. Joseph H. Moore, Interview (22 November 1969), AFHRA, 

K239.0512-241, 20. 

174 
CONCLUSION 

This study has shown that there was rivalry and dispute between the 

armed services of the United States over various facets of the military 

application of airpower during the Vietnam period. The consequences of 

interservice rivalry over airpower issues in Vietnam are difficult to gauge 

with certainty, but these disputes did have significant strategic, operational 

and tactical consequences for the pursuit of United States national policy 

in Southeast Asia. 

At the most fundamental level, the services disagreed about the theater-level command arrangements by which the United States conducted 

the Vietnam War. As a result of unresolved doctrinal differences between 

the Army and the Air Force, the United States developed complex theaterlevel command arrangements for the war in Southeast Asia where command authority was fragmented between the Commander in Chief Pacific 

(CINCPAC) and the commanding general of Military Assistance Command Vietnam (COMUSMACV). Unchecked by a unified theater command on the supreme headquarters model, this fragmentation of command 

authority was reflected in a similar dispersal of responsibility for air power resources committed to the Vietnam War. The result was that General 

Westmoreland did not have overall control of all the air assets committed 

to Southeast Asia, or even to South Vietnam itself. Westmoreland could 

not, therefore, use all these air assets exactly as he saw fit. 

Westmoreland complained about his lack of authority for those 7th 

Air Force aircraft based in Thailand and, even though the Marines in I 

Corps did operate under his official command authority, the Khe Sanh 

record illustrates Westmoreland’s mounting frustration with the absence 

of their aircraft from the Air Force Tactical Air Control System (TACS) 

under the control of his air deputy General Momyer.1 The problem of fragmented control of air assets in Southeast Asia, with its detrimental effect 

on Westmoreland’s ability to deploy those assets with maximum flexibility in South Vietnam, was insurmountable because it stemmed from the 

lack of unity of command. It would likely have been greatly alleviated 

had General Westmoreland been appointed a Southeast Asia theater commander, but this was impossible under the political circumstances of the 

time and place. 

At the theater command level, the services proved resistant to learning 

the lessons of Vietnam; they did not confront the fragmented theater command issue that had so dogged them in Southeast Asia until forced to do 

175 
so by Congressional criticism of their parochialism in the mid-1980s. The 

resulting Goldwater-Nichols Department of Defense Reorganization Act 

of 1986 provided the authority for theater commanders to organize their 

commands as they saw fit and order subordinate commands to execute assigned tasks without interference from the individual services.2

 Thus, the 

United States appointed Army General H. Norman Shwartzkopf as a unified theater commander for the country’s next major conflict against Iraq 

in the Gulf War of 1991. 

Prior to Vietnam, the Air Force believed strongly in the centralized 

control of all air assets under an Air Force officer who would report directly to the theater commander. The fragmented command arrangements 

established for Southeast Asia, with their concomitant division of responsibility for airpower assets, served only to reinforce the Air Force’s view 

in this respect and the service got its way in the Gulf where the Air Force 

component commander General Charles A. Horner was made Joint Force 

Air Component Commander (JFACC) with the theoretical authority to direct US Air Force, US Navy, US Marine Corps, and allied air assets—but 

not Army aircraft—in the Gulf theater. 

As might be expected, there is a close relationship between the command arrangements adopted by the United States for the prosecution of 

its war in Southeast Asia and the strategic direction of the war. The US 

government and the Department of Defense’s strategy was dictated not 

only by operational circumstances on the ground, but also by political considerations and interservice rivalry in which airpower played a key role. 

Concomitant with the decision to fragment command authority between 

CINCPAC and Military Assistance Command Vietnam (MACV) was the 

decision not to give priority either to the Army strategy of a land war 

supported by tactical airpower or the Air Force strategy of a strategic air 

campaign against North Vietnam with a holding land campaign in South 

Vietnam. This may have been a wise course, but it left successive US 

administrations open to the accusation that instead of pursuing one strategy decisively they pursued both halfheartedly. Certainly, the Air Force 

continually argued that although there was an air war over North Vietnam, 

the Air Force was not allowed to pursue that war with the vigor required 

to defeat North Vietnam and thus, win the Vietnam War overall. Army 

criticisms were perhaps slightly more muted, but the view of many Army 

officers that it was forced to fight the war “with one hand tied behind its 

back” is well known. 

In fact, the preferred Air Force strategy of a strategic air campaign 

against North Vietnam was almost certainly folly in the context of time, 

176 
place and national objectives. In the mid-60s, despite some improvements 

in accuracy, the manned bomber remained a relatively imprecise instrument largely dependent on unguided munitions and, despite claims to the 

contrary, there was little evidence in the historical record to suggest that 

strategic air operations might be decisive. For example, the deep interdiction STRANGLE II bombing campaign in Korea had not yielded the hoped 

for, decisive results.3 Although strategic bombing clearly had significant 

effects in terms of tying up scarce enemy resources in the Second World 

War, North Vietnam’s undeveloped nature made it particularly impervious 

to strategic air warfare.4

 Even if US airpower had forced North Vietnam 

to withdraw its support for the National Liberation Front in the south, it 

would still have retained the option to reengage at a later date once the 

United States had withdrawn. 

Since the Vietnam War, the United States has tended to use its airpower in lieu of ground forces, but as the decisions to commit US forces 

to both a ground war in South Vietnam and an air war over North Vietnam 

were taken virtually simultaneously, the air campaign could not fulfill this 

proxy role in Vietnam, casting further doubt on the necessity for a strategic 

air campaign in the first place. It might be argued that the air war against 

North Vietnam, as it actually developed, was really more of a deep interdiction campaign than the strategic knock-out blow envisaged by early Air 

Force targeting plans. And although it and subsidiary operations against 

the Ho Chi Minh trail in Laos were unsuccessful in the sense that they 

never actually reduced North Vietnamese infiltration into South Vietnam, 

they must have at least limited the increases in North Vietnamese infiltration. While there may be some truth in this, the guerrilla war in South 

Vietnam was largely self-supporting and did not place great demands on 

the North for supplies and troops during much of the course of ROLLING 

THUNDER.5 

In Vietnam, the sensitivity among the services regarding ultimate responsibility for roles and missions that had emerged as a result of the service unification dispute of the late 1940s manifested itself in a series of 

demarcation disputes. This was particularly true regarding those between 

the Army and the Air Force over responsibility for close air support (CAS) 

and tactical airlift. In the absence of political approval for a strategic air 

campaign against North Vietnam, the Air Force was not about to pass up 

any other opportunities for participation in the war. It therefore settled 

for a tactical campaign in South Vietnam. While some sort of strategic 

campaign against the North did eventually emerge, the tactical air war 

continued in the South. Though not philosophically inclined towards tactical air operations, the Air Force set about them with a will in the hope of 

177 
monopolizing the tactical air war, or at least securing overall control of 

all air support assets through the Air Force Tactical Air Control System 

(TACS). 

The Korean War had revealed a continuing requirement for tactical air 

operations and thus showed the Air Force’s excessive emphasis on Strategic Air Command (SAC) at the expense of Tactical Air Command (TAC) 

to have been in error. However, as a result of its inherent bias toward 

strategic air warfare, the Air Force chose to ignore the tactical airpower 

lessons of Korea and once again abandoned the tactical air doctrine it had 

first developed during the Second World War. Thus, the Air Force had to 

relearn tactical air techniques for a third time in Southeast Asia. This clearly had a detrimental effect on the combat efficiency of tactical airpower 

in South Vietnam during the learning process and contributed to the very 

long delay between requests for CAS and the arrival of aircraft over the 

target in the early days of US Air Force involvement in the war. 

While it may have been back in the tactical airpower business in South 

Vietnam, the Air Force remained disinclined to provide close air support in 

the manner desired by the Army. The Air Force wanted a centralized system while the Army wanted a decentralized one and the Army argued that 

the centralized system that emerged (TACS) was insufficiently responsive to its battlefield needs, particularly in the context of South Vietnam 

where contacts between opposing ground forces were usually so short that 

requests for immediate support were likely to arrive over the target after 

the resulting combat had concluded. However, the war in South Vietnam 

represented the first opportunity for the Army to fill the perceived gap 

between the demands of its ground forces and the close air support provided by the Air Force—through the TACS—with its own combat aircraft 

and so the two competing tactical air support systems clashed. Again, this 

dispute had detrimental consequences for the combat efficiency of tactical 

airpower in Vietnam. As the Air Force was not prepared to fill the kind of 

close air support role offered by Army aircraft, its efforts to deny this capability to the Army were simply obstructive and cost the Army some of the 

enhanced combat efficiency likely to accrue from its organic air assets. 

With the withdrawal of the AV-1 Mohawk from the Army’s airmobile division and the compromise ushered in by the McConnell-Johnson 

Agreement, the Air Force succeeded in destroying the Army’s fixed-wing 

combat aircraft programs in Vietnam. It did so, not as a result of operational concerns on the South Vietnamese battlefield, but because it did not 

want the Army to have its own close air support aircraft in contravention 

of existing formal roles and missions agreements, and because it simply 

178 
was fundamentally opposed to organic Army aircraft. This was a policy 

driven by political and doctrinal considerations, but it was not entirely 

devoid of an operational dimension. Air Force officers genuinely believed 

that the centralization of air assets under Air Force control constituted 

the most efficient basis for the provision of support to the Army’s ground 

forces under any circumstances and saw no reason to believe that Vietnam 

constituted a special case in this respect. 

The Air Force was successful in preventing the dispatch of Army AV1 attack aircraft to Vietnam and in curtailing the use of its OV-1 sister 

aircraft in its subsidiary close support role. However, the Air Force lost 

the argument with the Army over helicopters. While the Army expressed 

broad satisfaction with the close air support it received from the Air 

Force in Vietnam, it still sought alternative organic air support, mainly 

through the medium of helicopter gunships. Army supplementation and 

even substitution of Air Force close air support by its own helicopters was 

bitterly opposed by the Air Force until the Air Force appeared to concede 

the debate in the 1966 McConnell-Johnson Agreement. While both services 

declared the agreement a compromise, the fact is that it confirmed the Air 

Force’s loss of formal exclusive responsibility for the close air support 

mission and its weary acceptance that the Army’s gunship helicopters 

were there to stay. 

Though the Air Force still opposed individual Army attack helicopter programs, these continued to receive approval from the Secretary of 

Defense, and in Vietnam, the Air Force increasingly came to accept the 

Army’s own justification of its helicopter gunships as performing a different and supplemental role to that of Air Force attack aircraft. Although the 

Air Force as an institution refused to accept it, in the context of the Vietnam period this ad hoc arrangement actually represented a natural division 

of tactical airpower responsibilities between the services with the Army 

concentrating on immediate close air support and the Air Force concentrating on preplanned sorties, particularly interdiction. This suggests that 

centralization was desirable up to a point, or rather down to a point, beyond which the Army would have best provided its own immediate close 

air support requirements probably with helicopters, but also with specialist intermediate performance close air support aircraft in the AV-1 or A-1 

Skyraider class and, ultimately, with the projected A-X jet aircraft. If such 

an arrangement had been implemented, it would have been necessary for 

the Department of Defense to police it in order to avoid either service 

impinging on the different, but complimentary tactical capabilities of the 

other. The Howze Report shows that the Air Force had a point when suggesting that the Army’s adoption of its own fixed-wing tactical air capabil179 
ity might be the thin end of a wedge that would lead to the development 

of another air force in direct competition with the USAF and that postVietnam developments up to and including the 1991 Gulf War against Iraq 

have tended to bear this out. 

The particular manner by which the US armed services came to control their tactical airpower in Vietnam had important consequences for its 

actual application. The Army successfully carved out a form of organic air 

support—provided by helicopter gunships. This was clearly more responsive to the Army’s immediate needs than the close air support provided 

by Air Force tactical fighters through the TACS, but it did not fulfill the 

Army’s need for heavier aerial fire support. The Air Force had damaged 

the Army’s capabilities in this respect by denying it the use of fixed-wing 

aircraft—which would have been more survivable and packed a heavier 

punch—while at the same time making it clear that it would not provide 

this kind of support in a dedicated and sufficiently timely manner for the 

Army’s purposes. The Air Force’s attitude to dedicated close air support 

encouraged Army reluctance to call for air support through the TACS until 

after organic sources had been tried. This meant that the Army sometimes 

used its helicopter gunships where heavier Air Force firepower was a more 

appropriate first course, with a consequent cost in combat efficiency. Also, 

Air Force officers rationalized their own objections to Army airpower by 

arguing that retention of an organic Army close air support capability outside the TACS meant that it was not then available for deployment by the 

TACS for missions beyond the remit of the Army corps commanders to 

whom the Army gunships were allotted. However, there is no evidence 

that this was ever a significant disadvantage in Vietnam, where the short 

range and relatively low speed of Army aircraft would probably have limited their usefulness in this respect, both in the eyes of Air Force officers 

coordinating the TACS, and in fact. 

Even before the Vietnam War ended, the Army sought to fill this organic firepower gap with more capable attack helicopters; first, with the 

AH-56 Cheyenne and then, following the cancellation of that program, 

with the AH-64 Apache. The latter aircraft proved itself a formidable machine in the Gulf War, again raising the issue of the presence of Army attack helicopters outside the Air Force tactical air control system. This suggests that, by the Gulf War, increasingly capable Army attack helicopters 

were becoming the equivalent of Army fixed-wing combat aircraft, thus 

reopening the dispute between the Army and the Air Force over organic 

airpower. If the Army’s aircraft were to be placed under the control of the 

JFACC, as the Air Force wished, this again would raise the question: why 

have an Army air arm at all? In addition, why have helicopters at all when 

180 
the Air Force continues to believe multirole fixed-wing jets both more 

capable and more flexible?6 

One of the factors driving the explosion in the Army’s employment of 

helicopters in Vietnam was the introduction of airmobile formations and 

techniques. The model of airmobility used by the Army in Vietnam was a 

unilateral one developed from the deliberations of the 1962 Howze Board 

and the subsequent 11th Air Assault division tests. Naturally, Secretary 

of Defense Robert S. McNamara bore the ultimate responsibility for the 

commissioning of the Howze Board’s report, but he did so at the urging of 

a few Army aviation enthusiasts who had obtained positions of significant 

influence in the Office of the Secretary of Defense. There, Army Colonels 

Robert R. Williams and Edwin L. Powell were able to realize their own 

minority views through the medium of the Secretary of Defense. 

Both McNamara and the army aviation proponents embarked upon the 

airmobility project out of the sincere expectation that this would improve 

Army mobility and thus lead to an increase in the operational efficiency of 

the US armed forces in general. It never occurred to McNamara that there 

was any need for an official competition between Army and Air Force concepts for increasing Army mobility. Presumably, the secretary expected— 

if he thought about it at all, and the chances are that he did not—the Army 

Board to make the best use of all aviation resources for improving Army 

mobility regardless of their service of origin. However, given the origins 

of the Howze Board with Colonels Williams and Powell, their selection of 

its key members, including the chairman, and the Army’s recent air support experience at the hands of the Air Force, which seemed to suggest that 

the latter service could not, or would not, provide adequate support for the 

new airmobile formations unless somehow forced to by the Department of 

Defense, the Army concept was always likely to be very parochial. 

The Air Force claimed that the Howze concept involved the Army 

straying into roles and missions formally reserved for the Air Force. This, 

it certainly did in the areas of tactical airlift and close air support. Such 

objections were, however, based on dogma rather than real operational 

considerations as the very nature of these roles was undergoing a revolutionary transformation under the impact of airmobility, with which the 

Air Force was out of step. Under the influence of airmobility doctrine, 

a real requirement had emerged for aircraft in the AV-1 and CV-2 class. 

As the service primarily responsible for airpower, it was the Air Force’s 

responsibility to respond to the new requirements and operate these new 

types of aircraft in a manner satisfactory to the Army, or move over and let 

the Army do it. Of course, the Army had developed these aircraft without 

181 
reference to the Air Force, but it was perfectly clear that even if it had 

been consulted, the Air Force would have been entirely opposed to both of 

them, and the missions they were designed to accomplish. 

Air Force protests against Army airmobility did pay off to some extent, however, with the Army’s loss of its fixed-wing aircraft—first with 

the AV-1, and then with the CV-2—in the McConnell-Johnson Agreement. 

The Air Force had never approved of the concept of the light tactical ‘assault transport,’ or dedicated use by the Army of such aircraft. Having 

gained control of the Army’s light tactical transport fleet, it allowed both 

ideas to wither on the vine. 

The wisdom, or lack thereof, of the Air Force’s neglect of CV-2/C-7 

class aircraft is indicated by events at Khe Sanh in 1968. The siege of 

the Marine combat base represented an opportunity for a demonstration 

of what might be described as both the Army’s and the Air Force’s competing tactical airlift concepts under combat conditions. As the Army had 

predicted, the Air Force, and soon after the Marines, proved reluctant to 

risk their heavy C-130 Hercules tactical transports in the face of heavy 

ground fire at Khe Sanh because their long take off runs made them too 

vulnerable. Only lighter short takeoff and landing (STOL) aircraft of the 

type favored by the Army for the support of its airmobile forces were able 

to get in and out of Khe Sanh with tolerable safety, but they could not 

deliver sufficient supplies. Instead, C-130s delivered the bulk of supplies 

by airdrop, but even this required the luxury of a long runway that the 

communists never closed at Khe Sanh. Though the air supply effort at Khe 

Sanh was a success, and could not have been conducted by aircraft in the 

C-7 and C-123 classes alone, the siege pointed to the accuracy of some 

Army reservations about the C-130 and the value of STOL capabilities for 

fixed-wing transport aircraft. 

Khe Sanh, therefore, proved the value of both the Air Force’s favored 

tactical transport aircraft class, represented by the C-130, and the Army’s 

favored tactical transport aircraft class, represented by the C-7. However, 

the Air Force was not interested in the latter class of aircraft. The Air Force 

wanted to run a scheduled freight haulage service, and against this criterion, the small C-7 could never be as efficient as the C-130. The C-7 did, 

however, possess some very important attributes for airmobile warfare. 

It could get in and out of very small strips which were inaccessible to the 

C-130, thus providing accurate delivery of priority loads to ground forces 

and the potential for wounded and other personnel extraction from the 

combat zone. 

Thus, the technical inefficiency of small C-7 loads was a price worth 

paying for its greater flexibility—and therefore, greater combat efficien182 
cy—in airmobile operations. Since, as it turns out, the Air Force proved 

it could not be trusted to retain aircraft in the C-7 class in its inventory, it 

would have been better had the Army been able to hang on to these aircraft. 

Once again, this was rivalry pure and simple. The Air Force did not want 

to operate aircraft in the C-7 class, but at the same time, it was intent on 

denying them to the Army. The transfer of the CV-2s, to the Air Force, may 

have increased the technical efficiency of the Air Force transport system, 

but it reduced the combat efficiency of the aircraft with respect to Army 

airmobility in the context of Vietnam, and cost the Army any prospect of 

this kind of tactical airlift in the years after Vietnam, when the Air Force 

had abandoned the type. 

At the level of the operational control of US airpower resources in 

Vietnam, the interservice debate centered on Air Force efforts to bring the 

airpower assets of the other services under the TACS. The Army and the 

Marine Corps fought back in an effort to retain the responsiveness of their 

organic airpower and increase the tactical flexibility of their own formations. This response was, however, at the expense of the bigger picture in 

which tactical air resources might be redeployed out of their immediate 

area by the Air Force single manager. It seems clear here that more than 

abstract theoretical doctrine was at stake. Realization of Air Force objectives would have had serious consequences for Army and Marine Corps 

organic aviation. Absorption of Army aircraft into the Air Force TACS 

would have called into question the point of having Army aircraft at all, 

and absolute single management of Marine aircraft by COMUSMACV, 

exercised through his air deputy, would have spelled the end of the Marine 

air-ground team in Vietnam, setting a dangerous precedent for the survival of this concept beyond the war. However, the Army was successful 

in keeping its air resources outside the TACS, and while a form of single 

management was applied to the Marines, this was so attenuated that it 

probably never had long-term effect on either the Corps or the Air Force. 

Incompatible doctrine drove the dispute between the Air Force and 

the Marines over the use of their airpower resources in I Corps. This involved operational considerations in the sense that both services believed 

that their own doctrine offered the most efficient use of their respective 

airpower resources. This might have been partially justifiable in the case 

of the Marines while the First Marine Air Wing (I MAW) supported only 

Marine ground forces, but by late 1967 there were many non-Marine formations in I Corps. Marine air doctrine prescribed Marine air support 

for Army formations that was inferior to that for Marine ground forces, 

and there was poor coordination of Marine and Air Force air power in I 

Corps. This encouraged Westmoreland to accept the Air Force argument 

183 
that single management was necessary, and the system did go some way 

towards improving the air support service provided by the Marines for 

Army units. 

Single management could have been in place at the beginning of the 

siege of Khe Sanh had Westmoreland’s early representations to this effect 

been heeded, but for reasons of interservice rivalry, the Marines deliberately dragged their feet over this issue. Implementation of the system was 

also obstructed as a consequence of the fragmented command arrangements at the theater level, which were themselves, at least partly, the result 

of interservice rivalry. The existence of continued interservice rivalry over 

the issue of single management led to the dilution of the concept in practice, limiting the ability of the Air Force single manager for air to deploy 

his forces with maximum flexibility. 

In fact, the imposition of single management at the time of the siege of 

Khe Sanh had negligible impact on the Air Force-Marine relationship regarding the command and control of Marine tactical air assets and, therefore, negligible operational consequences in Vietnam. Adoption of a single 

management directive with real teeth would have resulted in a considerable improvement in the flexibility with which the Air Force single manager could have tailored the employment of Marine airpower to the needs 

of the ground forces through the TACS, but it would also have meant some 

further decline in the responsiveness of Marine airpower to the demands 

of Marine ground units. In fact, while they did suffer some diminution of 

responsiveness, the Marines admitted that this was minimal because they 

did not actually lose de facto operational control of their aircraft. 

If it had been applied rigorously, single management would have 

meant a greater diminution of the combat efficiency of Marine tactical 

airpower in support of the Corps’ ground forces in Vietnam, but Marine 

high-performance aircraft could have made a much greater contribution 

to the TACS under genuine single management. As single management 

of Marine aircraft operating through the TACS would have enhanced the 

combat efficiency of tactical airpower operating in support of all US units 

in I Corps—not just the Marine ground forces—then Air Force aircraft 

might just as well have done the job. This represents an argument for the 

disbandment of the Corps’ air arm, perhaps with the exception of intermediate performance specialist tactical aircraft along the lines of those 

already suggested for the Army. This would solve some of the problems 

inherent in the Marine Corps’ anomalous position as a kind of all-arms 

‘imperial guard,’ which serves only to complicate the command and control picture and compound the problems of interservice rivalry, but such a 

solution was politically impossible in 1968 and remains so. 

184 
The Gulf War revealed that despite the Goldwater-Nichols Act, the 

fundamental disagreement between the Air Force and the Marines over 

single management had still not been resolved. The Marines continued to 

believe that single management by the Air Force could not be sufficiently 

responsive to their requirements on the battlefield, and they never accepted the authority of the JFACC, who they referred to only as ‘joint force air 

coordinator’ in message traffic.7

 Both the Marines and the Army found the 

JFACC system unwieldy and complained about the length of time required 

to generate the daily Air Tasking Order, which included all preplanned 

missions. This meant that requests for preplanned air strikes could not be 

fulfilled until 48 hours after the original request. Consequently, while at 

the beginning of the war, the Marines released some 50% of their air sorties to the JFACC, from the second day of the campaign they began the 

steady reduction of this percentage until, by the end, they were running an 

independent air war, concentrating almost exclusively on their preferred 

air tasks of CAS and battlefield air interdiction (BAI). Although General 

Horner could have tried to overrule the Marines, he chose to avoid a Vietnam-type clash with them over the issue.8 

Army-Air Force-Marine arguments over the relative short-field performances of their respective tactical transport aircraft and the responsiveness of their respective close air support aircraft in South Vietnam 

were manifestations of more fundamental doctrinal differences between 

the services regarding centralized versus organic control of airpower. The 

interservice disputes between the services over roles and missions were 

sometimes so bitter and so visible in Vietnam that the service chiefs sought 

compromise lest they spiral out of control, with consequent serious damage for the various service aviation programs, and even—in at least one 

case—for the survival of one of the services. Early attempts to reach such 

compromises achieved only limited success because of the extent of the 

doctrinal gulf between the services. Indeed, the services never resolved 

their basic doctrinal differences during the Vietnam period. 

Clearly, the interservice rivalry and resulting operational difficulties 

that occurred in Vietnam might have been alleviated by shared doctrine between the services, but this was never a realistic option during the Vietnam 

period and, despite the fact that the United States was eventually defeated, 

the communist enemy never seemed to provide a sufficiently pressing 

emergency to alter the fundamental political considerations that underlay 

interservice rivalry at the level of the service chiefs. Instead they wrestled, 

as best they could, with a series of technological and doctrinal developments that did not permit of any neat solution beyond the mediocrity of 

bureaucratic compromise. Ultimately, pressing practical concerns obliged 

185 
the services to hammer out ad hoc compromise arrangements by which 

they established discrete service aviation fiefdoms, supported the parallel 

development of each other’s aviation programs (whether they overlapped 

or not), and developed practical working relationships for joint operations 

in the field. The fundamental problems, however, remained unresolved. 

While the enemy in Vietnam never seemed to provide sufficient justification for joint doctrinal development while the war was in progress, there 

were some indications that actual defeat in Southeast Asia might have done 

so. Army and Air Force post-Vietnam public pronouncements suggested 

an acknowledgement of the detrimental effects on the combat efficiency 

of tactical airpower brought about by interservice dispute. Whether or not 

the Army had sought to usurp Air Force roles in Vietnam, the development 

of post-Vietnam Army doctrine asserted the vital importance of Air Force 

support for the ground forces. The Army’s 1976 ‘Active Defense’ doctrine 

declared that it could not ‘win the land battle without the Air Force.’ The 

importance of the Air Force in Army doctrine was sustained in the move 

to the Army’s new ‘AirLand Battle’ doctrine in 1982.9 

In return, in a 1981 joint position paper, the Air Force expressed a 

willingness to adopt NATO-style tactical air support doctrine, as favored 

by the Army. This involved a combination of CAS and a British-inspired 

version of Battlefield Air Interdiction (BAI) where the Air Force would 

fly interdiction missions closer to the front lines than it would otherwise 

have preferred. The Air Force also accepted that its allocation of sorties 

between CAS and BAI would be dependent on the development of intelligence at the Army corps.10 

In May 1984, the Army and Air Force chiefs of staff appeared to usher 

in a new era of interservice cooperation when they signed a memorandum 

of agreement on ‘US Army-US Air Force Joint Force Development Process.’ Attached to the memorandum were 31 initiatives for action and so 

the document soon became known as ‘The 31 Initiatives.’ The agreement 

was drafted with a view to increasing the cost efficiency of combined air 

and land forces. Amongst the initiatives, number 21 called for the Army 

and the Air Force to develop procedures for the coordination of BAI with 

the ground forces and number 24 reaffirmed ‘the Air Force mission of providing fixed-wing air CAS to the Army.’ ‘The 31 Initiatives’ also called for 

the Army and the Air Force to ‘establish specific service responsibilities 

for manned aircraft systems’ (initiative 26a) and ‘procedures for developing coordinated joint positions on new aircraft starts prior to program 

initiation’ (Initiative 26b).11 

186 
While the above suggests Army recognition of tactical air support as 

an Air Force role and Air Force acceptance of the responsibility, including CAS and ‘shallow’ BAI, the Air Force never actually renounced its 

fundamental commitment to a strategic nuclear doctrine, as represented in 

post-Vietnam versions of its basic doctrine manual AFM1-1.12 In the late 

1980s, and in the planning for the DESERT STORM air campaign against 

Iraq in the Gulf War, the Air Force began to formulate new techniques 

and procedures by which a decisive conventional air campaign might be 

conducted independently of a ground campaign, and although a ground 

offensive remained essential in the Gulf, the Air Force largely achieved 

this objective against Iraq. Subsequently, it may possibly be said to have 

achieved similar successes in Kosovo, and most recently in Afghanistan. 

The air campaign in the Gulf was a strategic campaign aimed at destroying Iraq’s war making and war running potential, proceeding in a 

series of phases only the fourth and final one of which was designed to 

support the ground forces once the ground war began. Thus, while the 

post-Vietnam Air Force claimed to have accepted the importance of CAS, 

this suggests that the support of ground forces really remained quite low 

on its list of priorities. 

An indication of just how low support of ground forces might come in 

the Air Force scheme is indicated by the fate of the specialist ground support aircraft. The A-X ground attack aircraft project, under discussion during the last years of the Vietnam War, did result in an operational aircraft: 

the A-10 Thunderbolt II. While this might be interpreted as a declaration 

of Air Force intent to support the Army in the manner to which it aspired, 

and despite a successful combat record in the Persian Gulf, the Air Force 

has, at the time of writing, never implemented a program to replace the A10 and has now transferred its surviving A-10s to the Air National Guard 

and Air Force Reserve.13 

Similarly, while post-Vietnam Army doctrine accepted, as indeed the 

Army always had, that close air support was an Air Force mission, one 

should remember that the Army retained its tactical air support capability with its gunship helicopters and continued to develop the attack helicopter. The Army AirLand Battle doctrine emphasized ‘deep’ operations 

including the interdiction of enemy second echelon formations before they 

actually came into contact with friendly troops. It therefore required the 

Army’s AH-64s not only to provide ‘close-in’ air support, but also to operate up to 70 kilometres behind enemy lines. Such operations would have 

to be coordinated with Air Force fixed-wing aircraft flying BAI missions 

which themselves had now taken on greater importance in Army minds. 

187 
While the Army and the Air Force did work on the development of 

tactical procedures for cooperation between their various forces in the 

deep operations called for by AirLand Battle doctrine, they continued to 

disagree over command authority for BAI missions. The Air Force wanted 

to control these missions at theater level with the Army having a say only 

in the allocation of close air support, whereas AirLand Battle Doctrine 

suggested that the Army should have a say in interdiction at sub-theater 

command levels.14 

The two services were also unable to find a definitive solution to the 

problem of establishing the Fire Support Coordination Line (FSCL) behind which the Air Force is required to coordinate its operations with the 

ground forces. Traditionally, this had been set at the extreme range limit 

of conventional artillery—about 30 kilometers. The AirLand Battle Doctrine and the increased range of Army weapon systems, including missiles 

and helicopters, rendered a 30-kilometer FSCL illogical from the Army 

point of view, but extension beyond this limit suggested Army targeting 

interference in what had previously been an exclusive Air Force zone of 

responsibility. The establishment of the FSCL was to prove controversial 

during the ground campaign of the Gulf War.15 

As it had in Vietnam, the Army pronounced itself generally satisfied 

with the support it received from the Air Force in the Gulf. Certainly, relations between the two services were much better during DESERT STORM 

than they had been in Southeast Asia. Much of this can be put down to the 

fact that the Army had no fixed-wing aircraft in the Gulf over which to 

clash with the Air Force. However, the “100-hour war” also demonstrated 

the persistence of serious differences between the services over airpower 

issues. The Army and the Air Force disagreed over the control of Army 

attack helicopters in their deep strike role, the Army complained at the Air 

Force’s failure to strike many of its proposed interdiction targets, the Air 

Force questioned the deep penetration of Army airmobile forces behind 

enemy lines into a part of the battlefield that the Air Force had previously 

presumed to be its exclusive responsibility and without what it saw as appropriate coordination, and we have already seen how the Marines continued to oppose single management of its air resources by the Air Force in 

the Gulf.16 Given the persistence of these differences between the services 

over airpower issues at the time of the Gulf War, a longer land campaign 

and a more powerful enemy could easily have tested the seemingly harmonious relations between them to destruction. 

Interservice rivalry over airpower issues during the Vietnam period 

occurred largely because each service genuinely believed that the indepen188 
dent development of doctrine and equipment that suited its own immediate 

concerns was the best way to serve the interests of the United States— 

though it has to be said that the services were also motivated by the simple 

desire to accumulate or retain resources and authority. In the case of the 

Army and the Air Force, and perhaps also the Navy, this attitude was motivated by an absolute certainty that they should have a preeminent role 

in any future conflict. Taken in isolation, one can appreciate the merit of 

individual service doctrines, but they were often mutually incompatible 

on the South Vietnamese battlefield. They were also largely inapplicable 

to the actual circumstances of Vietnam because they were tailored primarily for high-intensity conflict with the Soviet Union and its satellites. The 

services found it hard to resolve these doctrinal differences in Vietnam for 

fear that to do so would involve the sacrifice of individual service precepts 

thought vital for war with the Soviet Union. Thus, the services found Vietnam insufficiently important to justify fundamental change.17 

The Gulf War showed that many of the interservice airpower disputes 

of the Vietnam period still lingered at least some 15 years later, and that 

they were potentially more serious than ever as a result of the Army’s deep 

battle doctrine and the increased range of Army weapon systems, including 

its attack helicopters. The persistence of the doctrinal differences between 

the services over airpower issues at the time of the Gulf War is rooted in 

the fact that both during and after Vietnam the services tended to see the 

war as an anomaly with no lessons for the future—or at least they found 

it psychologically attractive to regard it as such. They returned, therefore, 

to their pre-Vietnam emphasis on war with the Soviet Union. The ‘Evil 

Empire’ has now been removed from the military equation, but there is no 

reason to believe that each service has discarded the sense of its own preeminence that contributed so much to interservice dispute over airpower 

issues during the Vietnam period. Only in the absence of this certainty can 

the services make a genuine attempt at formulating joint doctrine. 

189 
NOTES 

1. John Schlight, The United States Air Force in Southeast Asia, The War 

in South Vietnam, The Years of the Offensive: 1965-1968 (Washington, D.C., Office of Air Force History, 1988), p. 29. 

2. Stephen J. McNamara, Air Power’s Gordian Knot: Centralized Versus 

Organic Control (Maxwell AFB, AL, Air University, 1994), p. 122. 

3. Richard P. Hallion, ‘Battlefield Air Support: A Retrospective Assessment,’ Airpower Journal (Spring 1990), www.airpower.maxwell.af.mil/airchronicles/apj/2spr90.html, 27 November 2001, p.4. 

4. Robert A. Pape, Jr., ‘Coercive Air Power in the Vietnam War,’ International Security (Fall 1990), pp. 124-125. 

5. Ibid., pp. 126-128. 

6. McNamara, op cit., pp. 129-130. 

7. Quoted in Ibid., p. 124. 

8. Ibid., pp. 127-128. 

9. Quoted in Harold R. Winton, ‘Partnership and Tension: The Army and 

the Air Force between Vietnam and Desert Shield,’ Parameters (Spring 1996), 

www.army.mil/usawc/parameters/96spring/winton.html, 27 November 2001, pp. 

3 & 7. 

10. Ibid., p. 10. 

11. Gen John A. Wickham, Jr. (Army Chief of Staff) & Gen Charles A. 

Gabriel (US Air Force Chief of Staff), Memorandum of Agreement on US 

Army-US Air Force Joint Force Development Process [‘The 31 Initiatives’], 22 

May 1984, Richard G. Davies, The 31 Initiatives: A Study in Air Force-Army 

Cooperation (Washington, DC, Office of Air Force History, 1987), pp. 105-115. 

12. Kurt A. Chichowski, Doctrine Matures Through A Storm: An Analysis 

of the New Air Force Manual 1-1 (Maxwell AFB, AL, Thesis, School of Advanced Airpower Studies, Air University, June 1993), pp. 11-12. 

13. Hallion, op cit., p. 8; Winton op cit., p. 13 & McNamara, op cit, p. 144. 

14. Winton, op cit, p. 9. 

15. Ibid., p. 12. 

16. We have already seen the difficulties between the services engendered 

by the development of Army airmobile forces, but to some extent the issue of 

the actual use of these forces on the ground in Vietnam was hidden by the fact 

that there were no front lines behind which the airmobile forces could penetrate 

in that conflict. In the Gulf, Army airmobile forces of divisional size performed 

deep penetration operations up to 150 miles in the enemy’s rear and thus trespassed, without any real coordination, on Air Force territory. McNanara, op cit., 

p. 129. 

17. For example, see Andrew F. Krepinevich, Jr., The Army and Vietnam 

(Baltimore, 1986) for an exposition of the view that the US Army in Vietnam 

remained fixated on fighting a high intensity war in Europe. 

190 
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From the very beginnings of military aviation, armies and navies 

have argued as to how the new assets should be used, how they 

should be developed and which service should control them. This 

was certainly the case in the United States. 

The development of the Army’s “airmobility”concept, along with its 

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Combat Studies Institute Press 

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas