The Vietnam War is one of the most unique wars ever fought by the Unites States. It was never officially declared a war. It had neither an official beginning nor an official end. It was fought over 10,000 miles away in a virtually unknown country. The enemy and the allies looked exactly alike. It matched some of the best-trained soldiers in the world against a militia of untrained farmers. Many US soldiers left for the war confused and returned home insane.
March 16, 1968, is a date to be remembered. On this day, Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 20th Infantry, under the leadership of 24-year-old 2nd Lt. William L. Calley Jr. became responsible for the execution of over 500 Vietnamese civilians, mostly old men, women and children. This atrocity, now known as the My Lai Massacre, opened the eyes of many to the realities of war. The US soldiers were ordered to systematically murder every inhabitant in this small South Vietnamese hamlet on the suspicion of the harbouring of Vietcong soldiers. No signs of Vietcong inhabitants were found in this village. Was the massacre necessarily, or was it simply an outlet for the built up anger and frustration towards the Vietnamese?
The objective of the American military mission was clear: Search and destroy the My Lai (pronounced, somewhat ironically, “me lie”) hamlet. What wasn’t clear was what had to be done with any civilians who might be encountered there. On March 16, Captain Ernest Medina ordered Charlie Company, a unit of the US Eleventh Light Infantry Brigade, into combat. The 150 soldiers stormed into the hamlet and four hours later more than 500 civilians — unarmed women, children and old men — were dead. Not a single enemy soldier was encountered and the only American casualty was a soldier who shot himself in the foot. It was a massacre that would haunt the conscience of the US Army and the American people.
When the US soldiers pushed into the hamlet, they expected fierce combat with a Vietcong battalion believed to be hiding there. For three months the American unit had been in no major battle but had suffered a lot of casualties from snipers, mines and booby traps. The soldiers were ready to prove themselves, ready to exact revenge on the enemy. When they met no resistance and no Vietcong soldiers there, Calley then ordered the slaughter of the civilians.
People were rounded up into ditches and machine-gunned — any survivors trying to escape were immediately shot. Some of the dead were mutilated by having “C Company” carved into their chests; some were disemboweled. And Charlie soldiers raped many young girls.
The cover-up of the massacre began immediately. Reports on the My Lai operation stated that it was a stunning combat victory against a Vietcong stronghold. Stars and Stripes, the army newspaper, ran a feature story applauding the courage of the American soldiers who had risked their lives. Even General William Westmoreland sent a personal congratulatory note to Charlie Company. An initial investigation into My Lai was swift and definitive: My Lai was a combat operation in which 20 civilians had accidentally been killed.
Too many soldiers knew what had really happened at My Lai. One of them was Ronald Ridenhour, a Vietnam veteran who was not at My Lai but had heard about the operation from several of his friends who had served in Charlie Company. A year after the massacre, Ridenhour wrote a letter about the atrocity and sent it to congressman Morris Udall. He also sent a copy of the letter to 30 other prominent officials, including President Richard Nixon. Reaction to the letter was quick and Westmoreland ordered immediate inquiry.
Two separate investigations uncovered the horror of My Lai. The soldiers of Charlie Company were extensively interviewed. An army photographer, who had been at My Lai, produced pictures of the carnage. In addition, it was learned that other army units, at My Khe and Co Luy, had also killed hundreds of civilians. Details of the investigations were leaked to the press and My Lai was on the front pages of American newspapers.
Eighty soldiers were initially under investigation for the My Lai massacre. Twenty-five officers and enlisted men, including Lt. Calley and his superior officer Capt. Medina, were eventually charged with crimes. Only six cases were ever tried. In some cases the evidence was overwhelming — some of the defendants admitted killing the civilians. But only one soldier, William Calley, was found guilty of murder.
The court martial of Lt. Calley began on November 17, 1970. For more than four months, witness after witness came forward to testify before a six-officer jury — all six officers had been in combat and five had served in Vietnam. Calley’s defence was straightforward: he had simply followed orders given to him by Captain Medina. As he testified: “I was ordered to go in there and destroy the enemy. That was my job that day. That was the mission I was given. I did not sit down and think in terms of men, women and children. They were all classified the same.”
Did Captain Medina, at a briefing given the day before My Lai, explicitly order Charlie Company to kill any civilians encountered? Testimony at the court martial failed to answer the question. Some soldiers said Medina made it clear that the villagers should be killed, but other soldiers disagreed. Yet another group claimed that Medina didn’t exactly say that civilians should die, but he implied it.
When the prosecutor made his final summation to the jury, he quoted what Abraham Lincoln said to the troops he commanded during the American Civil War: “Men who take up arms against one another in public do not cease on this account to be moral human beings, responsible to one another and to God.”
And they sentenced only one man — the unit’s commander, William Calley. He was sentenced to life in prison with hard labour, but Richard Nixon commuted the sentence.
The images and the story of My Lai represented a major turning point in public attitude towards Vietnam. In addition to their horror at the actual massacre, the handling of the prosecutions revolted Americans from nearly every part of the political spectrum.
Not only did Calley serve as the scapegoat for the actions of his unit, but his punishment too didn’t remotely fit the magnitude of the crime. The US Army tried to downplay the event, continuing to underestimate the casualties and the violence for years afterward.
