Laos: Green Confusion

All last week Laos’ torpid, dusty administrative capital of Vientiane swarmed with crowds—but not in panic. Along the banks of the slow-moving Mekong River there were foot races, boxing and wrestling matches. At night the temple courtyards were filled with slim girls dancing to haunting flute music. A torchlight parade wound through the city, and everyone agreed that the most magnificent floats were those of the Royal Laotian Army.

In their march past before King Savang Vatthana and pro-Western Premier Boun Oum. the armed forces looked trim and efficient. But foreigners were warned not to leave the capital because their protection could not be guaranteed. Most of the government troops on duty in the field had been pulled back to Vientiane to celebrate the eleventh anniversary of the founding of the Laotian army.

Guns from the North. While Vientiane danced and paraded, most of northern Laos was in the hands of the Communist Pathet Lao rebels (see map). Lean, well-conditioned guerrilla bands slipped like shadows through the green jungle, re peatedly outflanking the roa’dbound Laotian army. The rebels were backed up by Soviet artillery and munitions fed into the northern Plaine des Jarres by airlift and truck convoy from Hanoi, capital of Communist North Viet Nam. Hanoi also supplied gun crews, and each Pathet Lao company was stiffened with a cadre of from 10 to 15 North Vietnamese.

With the northeast securely in Communist hands, two Pathet Lao columns moved on the royal capital of Luang-prabang. routed government forces at Phou Khoun and drove to within 15 miles of the city. In central Laos the town of Kamkeut, which lies astride the strategic road running to Viet Nam, fell to the advancing Reds. Vientiane itself was closely ringed by six Pathet Lao companies which ambushed convoys and sent patrols ranging as far as a U.S. compound barely three miles from the center of the city.

Peasants & Politicians. Virtually all of northern Laos that remained under government control was the Mekong River valley—and that was fast going. General Phoumi Nosavan and most of the members of Premier Boun Oum’s Cabinet flew their wives and children downriver to the relative safety of Phoumi’s southern headquarters in Savannakhet. Chinese merchants and those Laotians who could afford it sent their families across the Mekong into Thailand. In the villages surrounding Vientiane, peasants resignedly dug foxholes. Said one: “This war is not our business.” The one thing the peasants clearly wanted was to see the last of all soldiers, native or foreign.

Deposed Premier Souvanna Phouma, who had fled the whole affair, last week showed up in New Delhi to present