 The people of ancient Vietnam called their land the Quiet South. The bronze guns of Hue, the old capital of Vietnam, stood watch for nearly five centuries over a people concerned with literature and art. The Vietnamese generated their traditions and lived comfortably in what has always been the rice bowl of Asia. The Quiet South is no longer its valley's thunder with artillery. It's lush forests and battlefields, and its people, without peace for more than a quarter of a century, are engaged in the struggle to build a better life. Communist troops have made it impossible for the people of South Vietnam to do so in peace. The United States has promised its support to the South Vietnamese, and every day Americans die in battle as part of this commitment. But another part of the struggle in Vietnam calls for a new society to be built on the ruins of one of the oldest civilizations in the world. To achieve that goal, the unique program of self-help is reaching into every corner of the South Vietnamese existence. This is the story of a social revolution and what it means to the people of South Vietnam. One is placed dramatically before us every day in the headlines. Its weapons are machine guns and helicopters, and its battlefields are forests and rice paddies. Weapons for the other Vietnam are being shipped out of this port today. They are the unspectacular things of everyday living, rice and soap, fertilizer and fishnet, blackboards and books, antibiotics and bandages. The battlefields of this other war are the 10,000 villages where four out of five South Vietnamese live. As part of a careful campaign to win these people away from their government, the Viet Cong used terror, extortion and assassination. The intent is clear to paralyze the government's capacity to act, to create a vacuum in the countryside that the communists can fill. And it is in these villages that the Viet Cong has established a base of power. As President Johnson has said, until the peoples of the villages and farms of that unhappy country know that they personally count, that they are cared about, that their future is their own, only then will we know that real victory is possible. To achieve this victory, South Vietnam is embarked on a program of social revolution. The United States is helping through the Agency for International Development, AID. Dedicated Americans and other free men, often at the risk of their lives, are at work in the villages helping to develop leadership and fostering new attitudes. When peace finally comes to Vietnam, it will not find a nation emptied of skills and resources. Despite the ordeal of war, Vietnam is building for the future. For thousands of years, men have roamed the warm waters of the fabled South China Sea in search of the fish that comprise an important part of the Vietnamese food supply. And through the centuries, the shared dangers and the unbroken rhythm of hard work forged the Vietnamese fishermen into strong, independent men. They live out their lives aboard their junk, as did their fathers. Suspicious of change and wary of land-based governments. Nguyen Pom Loc is such a man. He and his family have a working partnership that spans three generations. Every member has an assigned role. For many years, like all traditional fisher families, their entire existence revolved around their junk. The floating universe whose fortunes were determined by the weight of the fish caught in their nets. A universe that had little to do with the laws that governed the land. Today, Loc and his family have come to an acceptance of the government programs that have made important changes in their way of living. Because the government proved that it cared about their problems. This proof was given in terms that the fishermen could understand. More fish. To Loc, a better catch means more fish for his family to eat. More fish to barter in the marketplace for rice, vegetables, clothes and other necessities of living. And occasionally it even means that a few fish are left over to exchange for tobacco or soap. The small luxuries of Loc's existence. AID and the government of Vietnam have motorized more than 10,000 of South Vietnam's 57,000 fishing junks. The resulting greater mobility has enabled the fishermen to travel beyond their traditional fishing grounds and to increase their catch by 400%. Bigger catches have meant an important increase in Vietnamese fish consumption and the development of wider markets. Loc's fish yield has been increased two-and-one-half times with the use of nylon nets purchased by fishing cooperatives with government aid. Impervious to rot, they free him from the labor of constant mending and they are lighter and easier to handle. Increased fish yields have begun an entire cycle of development. To combat new problems of storage, transport and marketing The government of South Vietnam with United States technical assistance has begun construction of better landing facilities, ice plants and fish processing plants. And many more are needed. An increased fish supply means greater strength for South Vietnam as a nation and is an important step toward creating a self-sufficient economy. But these are really secondary goals. The greatest success is in terms of people. Lock and thousands like him are no longer easy prey for Viet Cong infiltration. They have been given a promise that helps them to resist. And a new note has been added to the ancient rhythm of their existence. Hope. Le T. Hong is a rice farmer. He too has found new hope. Traditionally when the streams which honeycomb his fields were full and could supply enough water harvests were rich and life was good for Hong. But when the rivers were dry or the soil was worked out he and other farmers had to scrabble for a living. But now working under the protection of government troops Hong has been harvesting bumper crops from his fertilized fields despite the hungry Viet Cong shadow government that would extort taxes of up to 40% of the rice yield. Hong and his family are typical of two thirds of the population of Vietnam and the produce from farms like his accounts for about one half of the total national output. Fertilizer from the United States has enabled Hong to grow more rice. Government troops protect him while he harvests it. And with new pesticides he is able to wage a war of his own against the insect enemies that farmers all over the world must fight. Many of the methods still employed by Hong are primitive but increased production is the first step toward progress for him and thousands of other South Vietnamese farmers. With new fertilizers and improved irrigation South Vietnam has doubled its production of rice since 1954 and rice was the principal export of Vietnam until the Viet Cong's disruption of the rice trade. The benefits that richer harvests have brought to Hong are characteristic of the human results achieved by the programs in which the Agency for International Development is involved results that cannot be effectively measured in statistics. For the first time in the history of Hong's family one of his sons will be able to attend school and discover new horizons and in the middle of August when the harvest is complete and the festival of the titular spirit is at hand Hong can venerate his ancestors with greater honor than ever before by offering richer gifts. His own life is somehow enriched. The 800,000 Vietnamese mountaineers or mountaineers life has always meant an unending struggle to survive. These Stone Age people wandered the Vietnamese highlands finding whatever food they could. Occasionally some of them farmed patches of rice but when the land was exhausted or when no other food was available they subsisted on berries or roots. More than 150,000 of the mountaineers who fled from Viet Cong pressure have been resettled by the government of South Vietnam. In experimental agricultural stations such as Dauri Co they are finding their way out of the darkness of primitive existence. But more important to the future of the mountaineers is the training they are receiving in new techniques of animal husbandry and agriculture. American civilians from the International Voluntary Service and other organizations work side by side with the mountaineers to instruct agricultural cadres, skeleton forces of trained farmers who will take new knowledge back to their own tribesmen when peace is brought to Vietnam. For mountaineer children schools have been established to teach the rudiments of living in a 20th century world. This American and others working in AID programs are trained for their service in Vietnam and are highly skilled specialists. Some of the Americans are farmers and the solutions they offer their students are realistic practical answers to problems shared by farmers all over the world. The response of the mountaineers who have traditionally rejected all outsiders has been warm and positive. AID to the mountaineers has strengthened traditions of democratic action that have their roots in community decisions about community projects. And the same people who once sacrificed their buffalo to placate angry spirits have become one of South Vietnam's new human resources. In another mountain village medical cadres are being trained in health and sanitation. Two needs that have kept the mountaineer out of the mainstream of civilization. Ha Bru is one of a specially picked group of young mountaineers who are given practical and classroom training in treating many simple melodies that if neglected can lead to more serious illness. To instruct Ha Bru in basic medical techniques important cultural foundations must be laid in the classroom. Acceptance of the relationship between bacteria, infection and fever is a significant hurdle for youngsters brought up to believe that fevers are caused when fires are kindled by evil spirits. The young mountaineers have learned their lessons well. Ha Bru and many others will be able to qualify for government aid to study medicine. But for their elders and for children who may never leave the mountains the impact of these first encounters with the 20th century will make profound changes in their patterns of living. The skeleton of a new nation is education and community development. Modern methods of farming and medical techniques flesh out the skeleton. But the muscle power of a nation and its ability to survive also depend upon its industrial development. Ten years ago South Vietnam had little manufacturing and only the bare foundations for industry. Today more than 700 new or rehabilitated factories and present mills are engaged in the manufacture of cement, electronics, plastics, textiles and glassware. These new industrial developments have brought important social changes to South Vietnam. In this traditionally agricultural nation where class distinctions exist between men and women and between landowner and farm worker a new middle class of skilled industrial workers has begun to emerge. In their hands the modernization of Vietnam assigns eager support. Many of South Vietnam's new industries have already begun to make important contributions to the national economy and have provided work for thousands. By the use of AID supplied machinery, technical assistance and American cotton the local textile industry can now supply 90% of Vietnam's cotton textile needs 10 million dollar annual savings in United States assistance funds. Saigon has been called the Paris of the Orient. It is a city that is a cultural crossroads, a meeting place of East and West. Boulevards and busy streets give it an appearance of well-tended prosperity but beneath the surface there is constant tension. Vietnam terrorists may suddenly explode a bomb on any crowded street or in any shop. The back streets of Saigon are another world, a world where life is reduced to basic elements. But even here there are young women and men who hope for a new way of living. 18-year-old Hiep is a scholarship student at the Saigon Normal School. He is part of what has been called South Vietnam's greatest success story. The government drive to raise the educational level of its people. Hiep's monthly $3 government allowance is an important supplement to the meager income earned by his mother in her tiny candy store. Every year in four normal schools built and equipped with United States assistance, more than 1,000 young Vietnamese men and women are trained as elementary school teachers. In order to maintain the high academic average required at the normal school, Hiep must study long hours and face keen competition in both phases of his training, classroom instruction where he learns educational theories new to the Vietnamese and practice teaching at one of several nearby elementary schools. The Vietnamese are hungry for education. The classroom where Hiep teaches is one of 5,000 classrooms built by the government and people of South Vietnam in the past three years. These books are some of the 9 million textbooks supplied by United States aid, a number that will reach 14 million by 1967. But the communists know well that books and classrooms are only tools. They must be put to work by people. For Hiep and other young Vietnamese, a teaching certificate is often a death warrant. Each year, Viet Cong terrorists systematically assassinate hundreds of provincial school teachers flown in by a United States helicopter by the fulfillment of a promise made by the chief of the district to one of its 34 hamlets. And to the people of the hamlet, the blackboards are more than just new equipment for their new school. They are an important reinforcement to their emerging sense of national unity. A government that can remember blackboards for village schools is not the kind of government that Viet Cong propagandists can easily depict as indifferent or ineffective. Captain Cai is chief of Tan Vinh district in the Mekong Delta. With him is one of the hundreds of dedicated AID field representatives serving throughout Vietnam. A 27-year-old American, Bob Chrysler. Captain Cai is responsible for the civil administration and safety of almost 75,000 people, split up into 34 hamlets, each with its own problems and community ambitions. I can give Cai information and suggestions, but the decisions about when and how to implement projects like installing new generators are made by Cai and the village leaders. A new generator can mean an awful lot to these people. This is farming country and all the daylight hours are needed to get the work done. But electricity will give the villagers a new life. It'll give them the chance to visit with each other after dark. It also gives the village night security against the Viet Cong. Hundreds of generators have been installed throughout towns and villages in South Vietnam as part of an AID-supported rural electrification program. Other village self-help projects have supplied important supplementary food sources for rural South Vietnamese. Village fish ponds have been stocked with more than 30 million fingerlings to help bolster protein-deficient diets. All of these diverse activities are being integrated into a national program of rural construction which has begun to change the face of South Vietnam. In teams drawn from rural areas are returning to the villages. These cadres are concerned with security.