Upon setting off on the march, each guerrilla trainee was issued a backpack with food for three days and a little first-aid kit. The backpacks were no more than rubber bags with cloth flaps. Their equipment consisted of two sets of black civilian clothing, a pair of Ho Chi Minh sandals, a sweater, a hammock with a mosquito net, a camouflage waterproof cape for the rain, one rifle, a hundred cartridges, and two hand grenades. But upon reaching their destination at the training camp, they had to turn in everything they’d been issued. Pham Minh’s group was scheduled for only a short march, so they had not been given any heavy equipment.
The sound of two wooden blocks striking together rang out. Pham Minh got up from the ground, his chest completely soaked. Through the leaves the sky looked torn into palm-sized patches. The jungle air was like steam inside a pressure cooker. Because of the humid heat and the malaria-bearing mosquitoes, after five days of marching along the trail there had to be a two-day rest. Pham Minh looked about at his comrades as they got to their feet and back into line. Nobody spoke. They’d been instructed to march in silence.
Upon receiving a hand signal from the point, the unit leader sent back the message, quietly ordering “March.”
Once again they started walking down the trail that was about ten feet in width. Each of the three units in their group had been given five heavily loaded bicycles they were responsible for delivering to the next point. By transporting these supplies as they relocated, the trainees were fulfilling a dual role. They were also resupplying the rural guerrillas with artillery — rockets, mortar shells, grenades, and landmines. As long as this supply line remained intact, there would be attacks every night. For each bicycle, three men took turns pushing.
There was a unit of men, wearing outfits like their own, coming down the trail towards them from the opposite direction. Judging from their red neckerchiefs, they must have been new NLF recruits, either in training or having just completed indoctrination. They looked worn-out and exhausted. One of them was being carried on a stretcher. Sick with malaria, probably. Most likely they would leave him with the medics at one of the rest camps. But that was only possible on the trail, and if you came down with malaria after you’ve infiltrated the enemy zone, you were more likely to be left to die. Down in the forests and up in the skies overhead there were American search-and-destroy units scanning the terrain.
They had passed beyond the end of the main trail after the midday meal and were descending down the endless south slope of the mountains. Laos was across the ridge. Before them a vast jungle was spread out with no trace of human habitation. The second-phase Atwat school was hidden in a valley along a stream. Nothing of it was visible from the air, but as they approached they could see a rather spacious clearing and under the jungle canopy a row of barracks with earthen walls and roofs of thatched palm fronds. There was also a solid-looking brick building with olive green walls and a roof camouflaged with foliage from banana and palm trees. It might have once been a plantation run by the French. There were rows of rubber trees along the stream.
After roll call the group had a late-afternoon dinner. The food there was better than in basic training. They were served canned fish, pork broth, and rice. Here they had a hospital, a reading room, and even a few recreation facilities for table tennis and volleyball. The trainees were assigned bunks in the barracks and issued textbooks that they were to study over the next four weeks.
The last group had finished training and departed two days earlier. The only sleeping gear they were given to use with the bamboo bunks was a single sheet. The ten women in their group were quartered separately in the main barracks. All the instructors were middle-aged NLF veterans. A few of them had been liberation fighters in the old days with the Viet Minh movement against the French. The political commissar in charge of their indoctrination was a North Vietnamese army regular, a lieutenant.
They had one day of rest, when they could sleep and wash their clothes. Pham Minh lay down on his bunk and looked through the study texts. They consisted of a pamphlet entitled “Proclamation to Patriotic Youths,” taken from Mao Zedong’s Strategic Theory of Endurance, and a small booklet with excerpts from Liberation War and the People’s Army by Vo Nguyen Giap, August Revolution by Truong Chinh, and The Road to Revolution by Ho Chi Minh, as well as abridgements of the classic texts of Marx and Lenin.
A liberation war is a protracted struggle and a difficult war, and we must rely mainly upon ourselves. For we are politically strong but materially weak, while the enemy is politically weak but materially strong. Guerrilla warfare is an expedient that enables the people of a weak and under-equipped country to hold out against invaders who have the advantage of a higher grade of technology. If we consider revolution as a form of art, then its crucial content lies in generating a form of struggle that fits the political situation at each stage of the struggle. At the beginning, our main mission was political struggle and the armed struggle was secondary. Step by step, however, each has acquired equal importance until armed struggle at last has reached a level where it now plays a leading role in the revolution.
Do not attempt to achieve too many goals. Do not disrupt the existing social structure; instead, make use of it. Even if it is an organized cell of the enemy’s power, do not destroy but rather accept it. To combat a power that is too enormous and strong for us to destroy, make use of it by amorphous combinations. Then, if necessary, disintegrate its leadership and absorb the followers into the Front’s organizations.
While working in secret, use all conceivable means to undermine the enemy organization, but always remain outwardly rational concerning questions of power sharing with the enemy. Certain attitudes should not be displayed openly. Make a strict distinction between open and secret parts of our organization and minimize the traffic between the two. The important mission of the open division is to promote the support of the vast common mass, while the mission of the secret division is the accumulation and seizure of political power.
Do not hesitate to interpret the ideology of the revolution in any way deemed advantageous. Do not reveal the concept of the class struggle except to key cadres. If possible, avoid provoking animosity from anyone. In this way, the formation of opposition forces can be preempted in advance.
Bear in mind the circumstance that in Vietnam altruism is seldom encountered, and therefore combine the materialistic foundations of Communism with egocentric sentiments of democracy in an appropriate manner. Success or failure is all, victories, albeit minor, must be won through ideology, but the greater triumph must be won through nationalism. In the end we must prevail and be victorious not as Communists but as nationalists.
Use the countryside as the base for your struggle and later extend the struggle into the cities. In the country the political opportunities are greater and the risk smaller. Do not succumb to the temptations of city life. But forge an alliance between country and city by cultivating strong solidarity between peasants and workers.
Proceed with tasks from the small to the large, and from the particular to the general. Proceed from a small and safe region to liberate a larger district, and then expand the liberated zone further. Begin the struggle with a movement on a small scale, then escalate the struggle and seize command of power in the end.
Pham Minh gazed out at the stream and the grove of rubber trees. There was no gunfire and no sound of explosions. He heard the laughter of women playing volleyball. The foliage was quaking in the strong breeze sweeping down through the valley. The palm leaves on the roof flapped occasionally. For a moment he felt as though what he experienced at Atwat over the past month was not real. There were about twenty of them sharing the same living quarters, from all walks of life and with ages ranging from the early twenties to the mid-thirties. They knew each other by name, but were not allowed to discuss personal histories. All were healthy and had hearty appetites, and even before starting this second-phase political training, each of them had their own firm opinions about the problems besetting the Vietnamese people.