 This village was a battlefield in the Republic of Vietnam. Until recently, its people lived under the domination of communist guerrillas. Vietnamese forces, assisted by United States Marines, drove out the guerrillas with force of arms. But not without loss of Vietnamese and American lives. This particular battle, in this particular war, was won. In the sense that this piece of ground is again controlled by friendly forces. In another sense, the battle for this village has just begun. For in the final victory, it will not be who holds the ground, but who holds the allegiance of the people that win this war. These are the real victims of war. The farmer, the fisherman. For them, the war is a nightmare that never ends, and the faces of the people reflect this suffering. From these villages, the Viet Cong impressed the young men into service, confiscated the rice crops and medical supplies, leaving hunger and disease as payment. But today, peace and security are no longer empty communist promises, but guarantees from the latest entries in the war, the United States Marine Corps. These newcomers are destroying the myth that communist Viet Cong cannot be defeated on the field of battle. And on yet another battlefield, these same Americans are fighting for the trust and confidence of the people caught up in a war within a war. For the tortured people of this tortured land, the first American friendship comes in a can, a can of rations, in the outstretched hand of a big friendly Marine. For wars have traditionally produced, scarred, naked children, and friendly Marines. In this humane battle for survival, there is little time for rest. Our friendship and help is available now. Friendship that comes in a bottle, pills that are needed now, as are the other miracles of modern medicine from a friendly nation. Friendship comes in the sensitive hands of the Navy doctor, who with native translators treat pneumonia with modern techniques instead of herbs on the victim's chest. For the Vietnamese peasant, this foreign doctor with his bag full of strange looking medicines is indeed a new experience. The children are usually first to accept the American doctors and corpsmen. Curious at first, sometimes frightened. Soon they come in droves. Their wounds and hurts are as varied as their faces, scratches, cuts, bruises, infections. No hurt is too small to be overlooked. Vietnam is a rugged country, even for these rugged people, taught by hard knocks to cope with their environment. A simple scratch, uncleaned and untreated, can result in a crippled, twisted limb, a diet of rice and fish, and sometimes very little of that, depending on the catch of a harvest, leads to malnutrition, bad teeth, or no teeth at all. This war within a war is somewhat new to these battle-ready Leathernecks. There are few textbook answers. Americans are writing a manual for problems as complex as human nature itself. Often it's frustrating. The results slow in showing. Marines are learning to wage this new kind of war, and it is paying off. Friendship is a trailer load of dolls for little orphan girls, assigned by fate of war to spend their youth in an orphanage. Happiness is the face of each little girl, as she peaks cautiously at what is probably her first doll. Happiness is the face of a young American, as he hands the orphan this un-greened of treasure. These children have lived with war their entire lives. These gifts bring simple happiness. A happiness which comes in many small, simple ways. A common borrowed soap, and a bucket of clean water, drawn from a well, dug by Marines. Just a little water and a little soap can prevent much of the common sickness, long believed to be the fortunes of life. Friendship is the fingers of a Marine rifleman, teaching a new friend to count. This American is speaking words of English to youth flares, hungry for learning, hungry for a friend. Friendship is friendship in any language. Today, Marines patrol the same waterways that were once crowded with sandpans, loaded with fresh produce for the local markets. River traffic is no longer safe for either farmer or tradesman. There is now only the suspenseful silence of deserted farms and villages, where even the animals have been butchered or stolen. These sounds of life have been replaced by a constant threat, which lurks unseen from the riverbank, a patient enemy waiting an opportunity to strike from ambush, disappear, and strike again in another location. This threat requires constant vigilance and the ability to strike back quickly and accurately. These Marines on river patrol are ready to challenge the authority of the Viet Cong, wherever and whenever they strike. Marines penetrate dark jungle trails, patrol every rice paddy in swamp to keep the land secure. Over terrain such as this, it can truly be called a walking man's war. Good news travels fast in Vietnam. It travels in ever widening circles, spreading rapidly from village to village, stories of available rice for hungry stomachs, and medical aid for ill and injured children sweep the countryside. Soon, the desire for these necessities and for an end to a life of privation outweigh the fear of communist reprisal. At this point, the village officials make contact and request protection for the move into a friendly area. The move is often hectic, but the decision of what to take poses little problem. Well, the Viet Cong has left them nothing of value. The Marines have provided amphibious tractors and men to ride shotgun on a long, arduous journey down the many miles of hostile waterways. At Journey's End, a safe area for the traveler and his family, a new home, and with it, an opportunity for a better way of life. Mao Tse Tung writes that the people are the water in which the partisan fish swim. But as this great body of water begins to recede, the gorilla, like the fish, must strangle and die. Each friend we make in these war-torn villages of the Vietnamese countryside shrinks that body of water, the old man who just waits patiently, hopefully. The mother who sees her child free of disease and with a full stomach, the little girls with their first dolls. These and thousands of others are no longer drops of water in that communist sea. Many of these people are now our friends. Their friendship and help are vital for the final victory in Vietnam. United States Marines believe this and have pledged their all-out systems to defeat hunger, fear, and disease. The war within a war.