The Bitter End To A Bitter War

Twenty-five years ago this month, millions of Americans were struggling to cope with the most severe economic slump to afflict the country since the Great Depression.

A persistent inflation, which had reached double digits in 1974, continued to drive up the cost of food, fuel and other vital necessities. And to make matters worse, much worse, the sharp rise in prices hit consumers at a time when the labor force was sliding deeper and deeper into recession.

By the spring of 1975, the unemployment rate had soared to 9.2 percent, the highest since 1941.

And to go along with all the economic woes, the American people had more reason than ever before to mistrust their government leaders in Washington.

For one thing, there was the lingering stench of Watergate, the elaborate web of crimes and cover-ups, the exposures of which had transfixed viewers and readers through most of 1973 and '74.

Yes, it's true that by April 1975, eight months had passed since Richard Nixon's resignation from the presidency brought an abrupt end to his impeachment crisis. But many Americans were still reeling from the aftershocks of the most devastating political scandal in the nation's history.

In January Nixon's successor, Gerald Ford, appointed an eight-man commission to look into charges that the CIA had engaged in massive, illegal spying on U.S. citizens. According to the allegations, prime targets of the snooping had been antiwar activists and other political dissidents.

After several months of investigation, the commission, headed by Vice President Nelson Rockefeller, gathered enough evidence to conclude that throughout its 28-year history the CIA had been involved in conduct that was "plainly unlawful."

To many, the new disclosures reinforced the suspicion that the Watergate crimes -- far from being an aberration -- were part of a culture of illegality that seemed to pervade the corridors of power in Washington.

Still, as March faded into April that spring, there were plenty of pleasant diversions to distract us from economic fears and political disenchantment.

For the second time in three years, Hollywood's Academy Award ceremony was dominated by a movie that celebrated the values and achievements of a distinguished Italian-American family. The Godfather II was offered six Oscars it could not refuse.

In sports, the spotlight shone for the last time on the "Wizard of Westwood" - John Wooden - who, in his final game as coach of UCLA's basketball team, guided the Bruins to yet another NCAA championship. During Wooden's reign, UCLA won 10 national titles in 12 years, an astounding record that is unlikely ever to be approached.

And on the lush fairways in Augusta, Ga., Jack Nicklaus became the first golfer to win the Masters five times.

Another highlight was the official start of America's Bicentennial Celebration. It began with a re-enactment of the battles of Lexington and Concord on April 19, 200 years to the day after the first minutemen raised their muskets and - in Ralph Waldo Emerson's famous phrase -- "fired the shot heard round the world."

One thing that was not of major concern to most Americans when April began that year was the war in Vietnam.

For the better part of a decade, from the escalations of the early sixties to the gradual withdrawals of the early seventies, that war had been nothing less than a national obsession.

At the height of the U.S. military involvement in Vietnam, when thousands of young Americans were coming home in body bags, antiwar protesters from coast to coast took to the streets in angry demonstrations. Much of their rage was directed at President Lyndon Johnson with such chants as "Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?"

The country was more bitterly divided than at any time since the ordeal of our own Civil War.

The election of Richard Nixon in 1968 coincided with the start of peace talks in Paris, and the combination of a new president and diplomatic negotiations raised hopes that the long and frustrating war might soon be over.

But the peace talks soon became mired. The war dragged on and on trough Nixon's first term in the White House. Not until January 1973, more than four years after the peace talks began, did the two sides finally reach a cease-fire agreement that brought an end to the U.S. combat role in the Vietnam War.

Many did not want to face the long-range implications of a complete American withdrawal. For to do so, would lead us to the inescapable conclusion that an ultimate Communist victory was inevitable.

So, even though the war raged on intermittently through the early months of '75, its sundry battles received little attention in the U.S. media.

That was just fine with most of us. Now that Americans were no longer fighting and dying in Vietnam, we basically couldn't care less.

But then came a rush of events in April 1975 that revived our deepest concerns about that tragic war.

By the middle of April, a series of critical victories by Communist forces from the North had given them control of two-thirds of South Vietnam and they were now preparing for their final assault on Saigon. At the same time, the South Vietnamese Army was reported to be in full retreat.

On April 21, Nguyen Van Thieu resigned as president of South Vietnam, thereby removing the last vestige of political authority in Saigon. Nine days later, Communist troops swept into Saigon and seized control of the capital, which they would later rename Ho Chi Minh City.

By this time, of course, it was impossible to ignore what was happening in Vietnam. During the last days April, television news programs featured pictures of the last, frenzied evacuations, an unseemly spectacle that, in its way, served as a metaphor for the entire war.

Perhps no scene was more vivid -- or more disheartening -- than the one of Americans scrambling aboard a helicopter on the roof of the U.S. Embassy. In making their escape, they hurled gas grenades at desperate South Vietnamese who were frantically trying to join them on the flight to freedom.

The wrenching pictures of evacuation on that last day of April in 1975 underscored just how bitter and humiliating a defeat it was for the South Vietnamese and its principle ally, the United States.

In the days and weeks that followed, Americans had to reconcile themselves to the fact that for the first time in their long and proud history, they had lost a war -- a war they never should have committed themselves to in the first place.

All in all, it was not a happy time, that spring of 1975.