Measuring Success by Counting Corpses
Editor's Note: This post was originally written by Mr. Richardson for his blog, History Here and Now. It has been edited and reposted here in collaboration with Mr. Richardson.
Re-watching the Ken Burns documentary The Vietnam War prompted me to re-examine what I learned about the war in school and from personal reading. As the narrator explained, there was no discernible way to measure success in the traditional aspects of moving the front, taking territory, or even fighting conventional forces. What made fighting in Vietnam different from previous wars involving the United States was the departure from traditional strategies such as holding a front line. Instead, combat over the hearts and minds, a psychological approach, was the tactic employed by both the Vietnamese and the United States (this was exacerbated for the U.S. by the problematic identification of a friendly population and hostile forces). Search-and-destroy was the most direct way to achieve results by actively seeking out the enemy. Therefore, it became necessary to find ways of producing progress on the battlefield and showing the public that the United States was winning the war against the Communists. The Military Assistance Command in Vietnam (MACV) relied heavily on a statistic that shaped the military’s definition of success: body count.
A central objective for the U.S. Armed Forces was not to invade and destroy North Vietnam, but to prevent South Vietnam from capitulating to Communism. Therefore, it became difficult for MACV to accurately assess their situation on whether they were winning the war. If they were invading North Vietnam, capturing towns, destroying methods of resupply, and decapitation strikes would be listed objectives. This wasn’t the case though. Lt. Col. James Willbanks, reveals that notion very simply:
“The problem with the war . . . are the metrics. It is a situation where if you can’t count what’s important, you make what you can count important. So in this particular case what you could count was dead enemy bodies.”
General Westmoreland and other commanders adopted an attrition strategy in defeating the Việt Cộng and the North Vietnamese, whereby if they killed more enemy soldiers than could be replaced [crossover point] then Communist forces would cease their attacks. Officers often pressured soldiers to deliver on their body counts, but lacked discrepancy when determining who was friendly or hostile (Christian Appy, Working Class War: American Combat Soldiers and Vietnam, UNC Press, UNC-Chapel Hill, pg. 8). What came from this though were additional tactics that fomented exaggerated body counts: free-fire zones and search and destroy missions. Soldiers were ordered to shoot at anything that moved. They surrounded themselves with reminders that killing was the main objective: score sheets, tallying boxes, chalkboards, etc. (Appy, pg. 144) Because it was difficult to tell the difference between an enemy combatant and a friendly civilian (since many guerrillas did not wear uniforms) U.S. servicemen were sometimes less than positive about differentiating who was friendly or not. Discriminatory firepower was not necessarily in good practice as it was easier to shoot rather than ask questions [see Strategic Lessons Learned in Vietnam by the BDM Corporation]. MACV wanted results and since body count was the only way, they needed bodies. So bodies were what they got.
Vietnam War historian Christian Appy points to search-and-destroy missions as the main strategy in defeating Việt Cộng and North Vietnamese soldiers. The attrition strategy was central to American operations in South Vietnam (Appy, pg. 156). Accompanying this strategy was the body count measure of progress. Large-scale search-and-destroy missions resulted in huge numbers of refugees that were displaced by the resulting destruction, only to return home in a now designated free-fire zone. Free-fire zones were any designated spaces where any unidentified persons were considered hostile and soldiers could shoot at anyone after a specific curfew. This practice resulted in thousands of unarmed civilians being killed, but classified as enemy combatants killed in action.
The widespread practice of tagging every dead Vietnamese as ‘Enemy Killed in Action’ grossly inflated the measure of progress, undermining the very thing that MACV and the United States used to justify their purpose in southeast Asia. These numbers of enemy killed in action were inflated occasionally to placate superior officers at headquarters in order to demonstrate the progress being made. Field commanders and officers knew their figures were wildly inaccurate.
One infamous operation highlights the deadly cost of relying on body count to measure progress: Operation Speedy Express. For six months in the Mekong Delta, the U.S. Army 9th Infantry Division relentlessly pursued the Việt Cộng night and day. At the operation’s conclusion, Major General Julian Ewell proudly announced that the 9th Division inflicted almost 11,000 enemy deaths while only losing 242 U.S. servicemen, a kill ratio of nearly 45 to 1; nowhere else had this ratio been achieved in South Vietnam. An internal report from the Army Inspector General would later reveal that more than half of the reported casualties were actually unarmed civilians. No one was held accountable and in fact, Ewell, the ‘Butcher of the Delta’ received another star on his lapels and was promoted to lieutenant general.
For all the impressive statistical figures and metrics that MACV produced, numbers did not tell the entire story of the Vietnam War. Military historian Lewis Sorley condemns the application of body counts and claims that practice alone undermined any prospect of securing South Vietnam’s independence:
“Body count may have been the most corrupt – and corrupting – measure of progress in the whole mess. Certainly the consensus of senior Army leaders, the generals who commanded in Vietnam, strongly indicates that it was.”
The complexity of the conflict between the North and South that encompassed the people’s struggle could not be reduced to a statistic. Another scene in Ken Burns’ Vietnam documentary summed up this conundrum perfectly: Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara received thousands of reports and metrics on the war and wanted everything to be quantified (Stanley Karnow, Vietnam: A History, Viking Press, NY pg. 254) He asked an aide to come and look at the numbers and hear his feedback. The aide replied that something was missing. McNamara asked what it was. The aide said ‘the thoughts and feelings of the South Vietnamese people.’ The Vietnam War was driven by numbers, but unraveled by the predilection for killing and trying to make sense of it all.
Appy, Christian, Working Class War: American Combat Soldiers and Vietnam, UNC Press, UNC-Chapel Hill, 1993.
Karnow, Stanley, Vietnam: A History, New York, NY, Viking Press, 1983.
Sorley, Lewis, A Better War: The Unexamined Victories and Final Tragedy of America’s Last Years in Vietnam, Orlando: Houghton Mifflin, 1999.
Strategic Lessons Learned in Vietnam by the BDM Corporation, Volume VII ‘The Soldier’, 1981
Meet the Guest Blogger
Thomas Richardson is a technician with the National Personnel Records Center, a division of the National Archives and Records Administration. Having grown up around historic sites and visiting museums everywhere, Thomas developed a strong passion for history. After graduating with his BA in History from the University of Arkansas, he spent time studying history at the University of St. Andrews, and then received his MA in History from Emporia State University. His emphasis was on cultural and public history, whereby he completed an oral history project on Scottish-Americans. Thomas has spent the past five years working at NARA and he especially enjoys helping veterans in researching their information. In his downtime, he enjoys reading the history of the Vietnam War, Prohibition, the American Civil War, and lots of science fiction and Indiana Jones novels.