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Some Under the Ground. There are the tall, serious Americans. At Saigon's Tan Son Nhut Airport, a line of UH-1B "Huey" choppers, cigar-chomping U.S. Army pilots at the controls, shatters the morning calm with a roar of cranked-up motors and the whip-whip-whip of whirling rotors. In Quang Due province, the local American adviser, a Negro captain, jounces along a red-dust path in his familiar Jeep, packing a .45 on his hip and speaking Vietnamese with a Basin Street beat. In a sandbagged patrol base in Binh Duong province, a U.S. captain sprawls...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: South Viet Nam: Toward the Showdown? | 8/7/1964 | See Source »

...capital's doorstep. One night last week they opened a barrage on the army post of Vinhloc, only five miles west of the city. The crump of guerrilla mortars and government artillery shook buildings at Tan Son Nhut Airport on the city's edge, and flares dropped from patrol planes were clearly visible from downtown Saigon...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: South Viet Nam: Toward the Showdown? | 8/7/1964 | See Source »

Hundreds of nervous cops jammed Saigon's Tan Son Nhut airport as a U.S. Air Force jetliner swept in under fighter escort. As the plane swung sharply to a halt, out stepped the new U.S. ambassador, General Maxwell D. Taylor, fresh in shining sharkskin and a bright resolve. The Viet Cong had sworn to kill him, and indeed a terrorist carrying a homemade grenade in a loaf of bread had been captured just yards from the U.S. embassy the day before. But Max Taylor figured to stick around a while -at least until after the U.S. election...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: South Viet Nam: No Time Limit | 7/17/1964 | See Source »

...mean everybody. It was the glossiest audience you could imagine. Everyone was tan and nifty, and half of them seemed to have put their evening clothes on over their bathing suits. I alone saw Dina Merrill, Carroll Baker, Lauren Bacall, Hume Cronyn, Red Buttons, Bea Lillie, Lee Remick, Montgomery Clift, and Kitty Carlisle with a man I didn't recognize, but I heard someone say it was Alan Jay Lerner. Carol Channing was there in a white stovepipe hat two feet high and an enormous pair of wrap-around sunglasses that would embarrass a Greyhound bus driver. I learned...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Readings: Something to Write Home About | 7/3/1964 | See Source »

...away from home after lifting 15 francs from his mother's purse. He was tired of doing his homework (his last assignment: to conjugate the verb rire, to laugh), and when he left his parents' house on Paris' middle-class Rue de Naples, he was wearing a tan corduroy jacket and carrying a Bugs Bunny comic book. He had a spot of mercurochrome on one leg ("I can no longer remember which," the killer apologized in a phone call to Agence France-Presse). The boy's jacket, added the strangler, could be found along highway N306 "just before Chatillon going...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: World: Un Bonjour de L'Etrangleur | 6/19/1964 | See Source »

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