Stormchasers: The Hurricane Hunters and Their Fateful Flight into Hurricane Janet
David M. Toomey. New York: W. W. Norton, 2002. 314 pp. Photos. Bib, Index. $25.95.
Reviewed by Commander Edward P. Stafford, U.S. Navy (Retired)
When one picks up this book and reads the descriptive material on the dust jacket, two questions pop into mind: how do you write 300 pages about a single hurricane reconnaissance flight with a duration of possibly less than four hours, and how do you describe the details of the flight, the observations, actions, and reactions of the crew when there were no survivors to record or relate them?
The answer to the first question becomes evident with a look at the table of contents. The narrative of the flight, by a hurricane-hunting Navy P2V Neptune from Guantanamo Bay in September 1955. comes in short bursts of prose interspersed with long, well-researched and informative chapters on related matters—i.e., biographies of the crewmen, the history of hurricanes, and the long effort to understand them and provide warnings. This is interesting stuff, which taught me—with 11 low-level hurricane penetrations in my logbook—more than a thing or two about storms and weather.
Question two is not as easy to answer. The obvious literary parallel in substance and treatment is the well-known The Perfect Storm (New York: W. W. Norton, 1997) by Sebastian Junger, in which a ship is lost with all hands. In the foreword to that book, the author admits to having "written as complete an account as possible of something that never can be fully known ... sticking strictly to the facts, but in as wide-ranging a way as possible." It seems that David Toomey also has done exactly that, and he declares his work to be nonfiction. Although I have been educated to believe the inclusion of any fictive element turns a work into fiction, one notices that Professor Toomey teaches, among other subjects, "creative nonfiction," and it is into that new genre that both books fall.
That kind of literary leniency is essential, since without it there would be no story—history records only that the aircraft concerned took off, made routine position and weather reports, transmitted a final message ("Commencing penetration"), and vanished. Yet the actions of the doomed crewmen, the effects of the storm on the aircraft and the men inside, and their views of the storm and sea are realistic, reasonable, and believable, based presumably on interviews with experienced crewmen—including a member of this very crew who was bumped at the last moment to make room for a reporter.
As in The Perfect Storm, this fictive but likely interplay between man and nature is the heart of the story, and for the most part it works well. The incident itself has an inherent drama, and the author presents it in clear, expository detail.
If there are flaws in the telling they are relatively minor and derive from the fact that the author's extensive knowledge of his subject apparently comes entirely from written sources and interviews. Hands-on, seat-of-the-pants experience would have told him, for example, that south by southwest is not 120° but 240°, that nonbreaking seas do not come on board, that an aircraft does not accelerate in a bank, and that an aircraft ditching in a storm would not skid across the seas but would slam into a wall of water.
If there is a lesson to be learned or a moral drawn from Stormchasers, it is as stated in the epilogue. "Before the establishment of hurricane reconnaissance," Toomey writes, "for every $10 million in property damage in the United States, about four hundred people lost their lives. By the late 1950s the second number was reduced to four."
A corollary to that lesson relates to the skill and courage of the aircrews who fly into storms and share a profound personal satisfaction from the knowledge that they put their lives at risk not to destroy or kill but to protect and save.
Commander Stafford was operations officer of Patrol Squadron 23, “The Hurricane Hunters,” from 1950 to 1952.
The Twenty-five Year Century: A South Vietnamese General Remembers the Indochina War to the Fall of Saigon
Lam Quang Thi. Denton, TX: University of North Texas Press, 2002. 423 pp. Photos. Gloss. Notes. $32.95.
Reviewed by Colonel John Grider Miller, U.S. Marine Corps (Retired)
The late and highly esteemed Vietnam War historian Douglas Pike once described the task of getting to the bottom of things in Vietnam as comparable to peeling an onion. Layer after layer might come off, he said, but it is practically impossible to reach an identifiable core. In The Twenty-five Year Century (referring to a century of change compressed into the years 1950-75), Lieutenant General Lam Quang Thi of the Army of the Republic of South Vietnam (ARVN) peels the onion in a way that few, if any, Western writers ever could begin to imagine.
Thi—who along with his brother Tho were the only brother team to rise to three-star rank in the ARVN—came from landed gentry, in Bac Lieu Province in the Mekong Delta. Weathering changes in family fortunes, Thi received a top-drawer education and rose swiftly through the ranks of a wartime army. (In 1965, 1 was a 30-year-old captain, proud to be commanding a Marine rifle company in combat; General Thi, only three years older, was commanding an ARVN infantry division.) His rapid rise and relative youth placed a hold on his career before he could become a corps-level commander, and he was given command of the Military Academy at Da Lat. There, anticipating his nation's long-term needs, he converted Da Lat from a two-year training school to a four-year academy, which began to reverse the cult of the (all-seeing, all-knowing) commander, and replaced it with leaders who tried to satisfy the needs of their soldiers.
Thi left Da Lat in mid-April 1972 to become the deputy commander of I Corps in the midst of the North Vietnamese Easter Offensive. From this point on, his narrative is a stunning portrayal of the gradual collapse of South Vietnam over the following three years, replete with tales of heroism, treachery, and political intrigue and corruption. The first casualty was Lieutenant General Hoang Xuan Lam, This boss. Although Thi was in a choice spot to "fleet up" to I Corps command, he knew that would never happen as long as President Nguyen Van Thieu remained in power. Thi was apolitical, and Thieu distrusted just about all of his generals who had not rallied openly to his side in his continuing power struggle with Vice President Nguyen Cao Ky. By April 1975 this situation had deteriorated to the point where Thieu felt the need to place several generals, including Thi, under house arrest.
Dwindling support from the United States further aggravated the situation during the final three years of South Vietnam. Thi believes the level of U.S. air, gunfire, and logistical support provided during the 1972 Easter Offensive—had they been continued indefinitely—would have enabled South Vietnamese forces to defend their homeland successfully. Instead, the United States not only withdrew its direct support, but also helped broker a truce in Paris that left a sizeable North Vietnamese contingent in the south. Then, it winked at repeated and massive violations of the stay-in-place provisions as the military balance shifted steadily in favor of the North Vietnamese. Thi faults President Richard Nixon for failing to keep his promise to challenge any truce violations, but acknowledges that Nixon's power was diminishing by then, under the pressure of the Watergate scandal.
This book is clearly written but suffers from too many irritating grammatical errors, which probably crept in during translation from Vietnamese to English. The author also misidentifies Lieutenant General Le Nguyen Khang, Commandant of the South Vietnamese Marine Corps, as the field commander of the Marine Division. It was the Assistant Commandant, Colonel Bui The Lan, who took the Marines to the field as a full division in 1971, and he was the only Marine to serve as that division's commander in the field.
Despite these relatively minor flaws, this is a must-read book. Lam Quang Thi has provided a powerful and detailed map of a road to disaster, which should be particularly enlightening to Americans who got off the bus before it went off the cliff.
Colonel Miller, a former advisor to the South Vietnamese Marines, is the author of two books about the advisory effort in Vietnam, The Bridge at Dong Ha (1989) and The Co-vans (2000), both by the Naval Institute Press.
Victory on the Potomac: The Goldwater-Nichols Act Unifies the Pentagon
James R. Locher Ill. College Station, TX: Texas A&M University Press, 2002. 524 pp. $34.95.
Reviewed by General Edward C. Meyer, U.S. Army (Retired)
Up front, it is important to understand I was an active participant in the debate to change the relationships among those involved in military decision making. I served a tour on the Joint Staff and spent ten years on the Army Staff, closely involved with how national security evolved and how it was implemented. While still Chief of Staff of the Army, I wrote an article for Armed Forces Journal proposing changes. On retirement I continued to speak out on the need for change.
But this book is not about me. Nor is it really about individuals—although some truly are legendary. Victory on the Potomac provides a superb insight into how the system works in the marble, stone, and cement battlefields of Washington. For anyone interested in Congress, the Department of Defense, or the White House, this book provides a unique view into details not revealed in textbooks or biographies. Here the old adage, "You don't want to watch sausage being made," is belied. Jim Locher, by detailing every event that occurred and the actions of every player, describes how our government works. While at times it might seem like the author's autobiography, it highlights the interrelationships within Congress. Too many senior service members failed (and still fail) to understand the way the system works and were unable to influence the outcomes of important budgetary issues affecting their departments.
The senior leadership of the Navy Department maintained the firm belief the system was not broken, and argued forcefully against changing it. The Army and Air Force believed some modifications were needed. Chairman of the Joint Chiefs General David C. Jones, just prior to his retirement, led the charge, while Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger argued against major alterations.
The author chronicles each of the players in this battle quite accurately. He also explains how the service differences affected the activities in Congress. One of the most important decisions was to enroll Senator Barry Goldwater (R-AZ) and Representative Bill Nichols (D-AL) to sponsor the bill in its final form. Senator Goldwater and Congressman Nichols were distinguished veterans who had the respect of their cohorts in Congress. They also had the respect of the military. Senator Sam Nunn (D-GA) also sponsored the bill. His efforts on behalf of the military and the nation were well-known throughout Washington.
The battles continued for several years. The detailed presentation of each engagement provides enormous wisdom for those who always have wondered how decisions are made in Washington. It truly was a victory on the Potomac. The proof was the Gulf War, a war in which the roles of the commanders in the field, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the Secretary of Defense, and the President were tested. The system worked superbly.
Jim Locher has provided a crucial exploration of the challenges of change. This book should make the participants of future battles within our defense establishment more knowledgeable about how the system works so they can be the masters of change—and not its victims.
General Meyer served as Chief of Staff of the Army from 1979 to 1983.