Concerning Điện Biên Phủ: Reading The Last Valley – Extended Quotes

A page from the kindle edition of my book.

Here are some choice passages from The Last Valley that reflect how the book addresses general military history while telling the story of fighting in the First Indochina War.   The first extended quote deals with the technical and existential nature of artillery on the battlefield at  Điện Biên Phủ.  

“Depending on their distance, speed and angle, shells tunnelling through the air make slightly different noises, so a heavy barrage weaves itself into a bewildering cacophony of sounds; but the rushing always ends the same way, with a thunderclap detonation – sscchhiiiii... boom!  Hollywood’s microphones fail to convey either the sharpness or the loudness of battlefield explosions; and the visual effects normally used to simulate shellfire – with plastic bags of petrol and aluminum silicate –are equally misleading. In reality the eye usually registers a shellburst as an instantaneous orange-yellow flash inside a dark, leaping fountain of mixed smoke and pulverized earth, sometimes studded and fringed with large pieces of slower-moving debris. The bigger, heavier chunks of earth and stones thrown up by the explosion fall near by first; the smaller debris, blown much higher, comes pattering and clinking down for a considerable time afterwards and over a wider area.

“The instantaneous pressure wave from the explosion moves outwards at supersonic speed –this is the expanding ring effect seen fleetingly in, for example, aerial footage showing the explosion of ‘sticks’ of bombs. It is followed after a slight but appreciable interval by a blast wind –the bulk flow of hot gases, fragments and ground debris away from the explosion. People in the target area experience the pressure wave as a sharp squeezing sensation in the chest, and its shock is also felt through the ground underfoot; this shuddering of the earth is powerful enough to make those sheltering in trenches fear (justifiably) that they are about to be buried alive, and those who are lying flat feel themselves being shrugged violently into the air. These sensations are accompanied by stupefying noise, and under heavy and persistent fire all the physical senses are overwhelmed. Completely impotent to affect their chances of survival, soldiers find sustained shelling and mortaring the worst ordeal of battle; those experiencing it often become temporarily unhinged, losing all muscular control (including of the bladder and sphincter) and the capacity for any rational thought beyond ‘Oh please God no...’” (pp. 371 – 372)

The French flew a few tanks into Điện Biên Phủ as part of their prodigious airlift build-up for the strongpoints.  This second quotation concerns the effect of tanks upon infantry morale.

“At about 10am, Lieutenant Préaud’s three Chaffees from Isabelle –‘Ratisbonne’, ‘Neumach’ and ‘Auerstaedt’ –came up in support of 6th Colonial at a bad moment when a mortar barrage had exposed them to a counter-attack; and at around noon Warrant Officer Carette’s tanks –‘Mulhouse’, ‘Bazeilles’ and ‘Douaumont’ – blasted a path into Ban Ban for 8th Shock. The mentions of tank support risk becoming routine, but the intervention of the Chaffees made a crucial difference in this and many other actions at Dien Bien Phu.

“The natural reaction of infantrymen in combat is to be comforted by the presence of tanks. Apart from the supporting fire of a heavy cannon and three machine guns against dangerous enemy positions, their general air of massive, ponderous power is a boost to confidence. The unsilenced roar of the slow-revving engine, the peculiar rumbling squeak of the tracks, the whiplash crack when the heavy gun fires, the stink of diesel and cordite, the heat radiating from the exhausts – all combine to create an impression of invulnerability. However, experienced soldiers are all too conscious of the drawbacks of getting too close to tanks. They are conspicuously valuable targets that draw heavy enemy fire; moreover, their drivers have very poor visibility, particularly at short distances, and infantry are rightly nervous of being crushed by the tracks."  (Page 448)

Finally, an extended quote on the physics of various wounds caused by infantry ammunition.  

“The bullets fired from most rifles and machine guns at Dien Bien Phu were of 7.5mm –7.92mm calibre, equivalent to the British 0.303in and US 0.30in which were standard in both World Wars. The bullet is a cylinder tapering to a smooth point at the tip, about the size of a very short pencil stub, say an inch and a half long; but at about 1oz it weighs noticeably in the palm of the hand, because its core is of lead, skinned with a smooth copper or nickel alloy –the ‘full metal jacket’. When fired, it leaves the muzzle of the rifle at a speed of at least 1,700 mph. Because its base is heavier than its tip, the bullet would naturally turn around in mid-air, but the spiral rifling grooves in the barrel impart a spin which keeps it flying point first in a straight line until it hits something.  When it does, the stabilizing effect of the spin disappears; and when it hits human flesh it can behave in a number of ways, transferring more or less of its energy and doing more or less damage depending upon speed, angle, the type of tissue it encounters, and other variables.

“The ‘million dollar’ wound (as suffered by Hollywood heroes) is caused by a high velocity military bullet, undistorted and still encased in its metal skin, which passes straight through relatively elastic muscle tissue and out the other side, making a pencil-thin tunnel and leaving a star-shaped exit wound only about three-quarters of an inch across. However, the size of the tunnel caused by the bullet’s passage varies due to yawing. For roughly the first 6in of its journey the fully jacketed bullet continues point first, and this may well be enough to take it out the far side; but because the heavier base of the bullet still wants to be at the front, after that distance it begins to turn around or cartwheel. When this tumbling reaches 90˚ the bullet is travelling sideways, thus enlarging the tunnel to more than an inch across. By the time it has travelled through tissue for about 15in it is moving base first, and the tunnel resumes its original width. Irrespective of the distance travelled inside the body, however, a bullet which hits major bones may break up; the metal jacket and soft lead core separate into irregular pieces, each of which travels on in unpredictable directions –as do the pieces of broken bone. In such cases the exit wound may be up to 5in across. Limb wounds which shatter the long bones can cause massive damage, particularly to the legs, where splintered bones threaten major blood vessels. Even a ‘clean’ penetration of the heart, liver or major blood vessels is usually fatal, and brain damage normally has devastating results even when the victim survives: apart from yawing and bone strikes, the amount of damage a bullet causes depends upon another effect known as cavitation.

“Imagine a tennis ball, drilled through the centre and sliding freely along a pencil-thin rod. The rod is the tunnel made by the bullet – the ‘permanent cavity’; the ball is the ‘temporary cavity’ caused all around that path by a brief but powerful shock wave following immediately behind the bullet. The tissue stretches away from the bullet’s track, making a travelling cavity up to 7in across, which then collapses inwards again (the vacuum effect may also suck dirt through the entry wound into the bullet track). Some organs, such as the liver, can rarely survive this process; others, such as the lung, are less affected.

“In muscle the crushed tissue of the permanent cavity and the stretched tissue of the temporary cavity are both, in effect, pulped, with their blood supply through minor vessels disrupted; if left untreated the flesh will rot (necrotize), producing an ideal breeding ground for bacteria. The surgical treatment therefore involves debridement –the cutting away of the dead tissue and of a margin of healthy tissue around it; this is more or less radical depending upon individual circumstances, and the correct timing and degree of debridement are matters of professional discussion among trauma surgeons. In the best case, new healthy tissue will grow inwards all around the debrided wound. In the worst case, sepsis will occur – gangrene – and the patient’s prospects become seriously worrying." (pp. 534 – 535)

These are the types of “grunt level” insights to be found in The Last Valley.  Unlike so many battle narratives, Martin Windrow does not get bogged down in this sort of detail.  Rather, it is used sparingly to communicate the reality of strategy and tactics on the ground.  The book's primary focus remains at the operational level, using strategy, politics, tactics, fighting conditions, and the shock and struggle of battle to give the reader a good understanding of every facet of the campaign without losing sight of the decisions and their consequences made by generals on both sides.  A remarkable achievement in military history.