Saturday, June 29, 2024

A00230 - Doris Allen, Analyst Who Saw the Tet Offensive Coming

 

Doris Allen, Analyst Who Saw the Tet Offensive Coming, Is Dead at 97

Her warning of a big buildup of enemy troops poised to attack South Vietnam in 1968 was ignored, a major U.S. Army intelligence failure during the war.

Listen to this article · 7:45 min Learn more
Doris I. Allen is sitting at a desk in an office and is wearing her Army uniform and black rimmed glasses.
Doris I. Allen in an undated photograph. She joined the U.S. Army’s Women’s Army Corps in 1950 and was the first woman to attend its prisoner of war interrogation course before she served in Vietnam in 1967.Credit...via Christina Brown Fisher

Doris Allen, an Army intelligence analyst during the Vietnam War whose warning about the impending attacks in early 1968 by North Vietnamese and Viet Cong forces that became known as the Tet offensive was ignored by higher-ups, died on June 11 in Oakland, Calif. She was 97.

Her death, in a hospital, was confirmed by Amy Stork, chief of public affairs for the Army Intelligence Center of Excellence.

Specialist Allen, who enlisted in the U.S. Army’s Women’s Army Corps in 1950, volunteered to serve in Vietnam in 1967, hoping to use her intelligence training to save lives. She had been the first woman to attend the Army’s prisoner of war interrogation course and worked for two years as the strategic intelligence analyst for Latin American affairs at Fort Bragg, N.C., now Fort Liberty.

Working from the Army Operations Center in Long Binh, South Vietnam, Specialist Allen developed intelligence in late 1967 that detected a buildup of at least 50,000 enemy troops, perhaps reinforced by Chinese soldiers, who were preparing to attack South Vietnamese targets. And she pinpointed when the operation would start: Jan. 31, 1968.

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

In an interview for the book “A Piece of My Heart: The Stories of 26 American Women Who Served in Vietnam” (1986), by Keith Walker, Specialist Allen recalled writing a report warning that “we’d better get our stuff together because this is what is facing us, this is going to happen and it’s going to happen on such and such a day, around such and such a time.”

She said she told an intelligence officer: “We need to disseminate this. It’s got to be told.”

But it wasn’t. She pushed for someone up the chain of command to take her report seriously, but no one did. On Jan. 30, 1968 — in line with what she predicted — the enemy surprised American and South Vietnamese military leaders with the size and scope of their attacks.

Image
Several bloodied and injured U.S. soldiers are being transported by an Army tank being used as a makeshift ambulance during the Tet Offensive in Vietnam in 1968.
Wounded U.S. soldiers aboard a makeshift ambulance weeks after the Tet Offensive started in Vietnam in 1968. Specialist Allen had warned the Army in late 1967 of a large-scale attack by the North on the South, even pinpointing when it would happen, but her intelligence went ignored.Credit...John Olson/Getty Images

U.S. and South Vietnamese forces sustained heavy losses early on before later repelling the attacks. It was a turning point in the war, further undermining American public support for it.

The Army’s refusal to take Specialist Allen’s analysis seriously suggested to her that she was viewed with prejudice, as a Black woman who was not an officer. She was one of about 700 women in the corps, known as WACs, serving in intelligence positions during the Vietnam era, and only 10 percent were Black.

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

In 1991, she told Newsday, “My credibility was like nothing: woman — Black woman, at that.”

In 2012, she told an Army publication: “I just recently came up with the reason they didn’t believe me — they weren’t prepared for me. They didn’t know how to look beyond the WAC, Black woman in military intelligence. I can’t blame them. I don’t feel bitter.”

Lori S. Stewart, a civilian military intelligence historian for the Army Intelligence Center of Excellence, said in an email that Specialist Allen’s analysis was not the only one that went unheeded.

“Both national and theater-level organizations believed an enemy offensive was likely sometime around the Tet holiday,” she wrote, but “too many conflicting reports and preconceptions led leaders to misread the enemy’s intentions.”

Regarding Specialist Allen, Mrs. Stewart added, “Like many other intelligence personnel in country, she was a diligent and observant intelligence analyst doing what she was supposed to do: evaluate the enemy’s intentions and capabilities.”

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

Specialist Allen was inducted into the Military Intelligence Corps Hall of Fame in 2009.

Image
Specialist Allen, in civilian clothes, receiving a framed certificate from an officer in a full dress olive green uniform.
Specialist Allen was inducted into the Military Intelligence Corps Hall of Fame in 2009. Maj. Gen. John Custer, commanding general of the U.S. Army Intelligence Center of Excellence, presided over the ceremony.Credit...U.S Army

Doris Ilda Allen was born on May 9, 1927, in El Paso to Richard and Stella (Davis) Allen. Her mother was a cook, and her father was a barber.

Ms. Allen graduated from Tuskegee Institute (now University) in 1949 with a bachelor’s degree in physical education. She taught at a high school in Greenwood, Miss., and enlisted in the Women’s Army Corps the next year.

After basic training, she auditioned for the WAC Band, playing trumpet. But she and two other Black woman were told afterward by a chief warrant officer that “they couldn’t have any Negroes in the band,” she recalled in “A Piece of My Heart.”

She served in a number of roles over the next dozen or so years: as an entertainment specialist, organizing soldiers shows; the editor of the military newspaper for the Army occupation forces in Japan during the Korean War; a broadcast specialist at Camp Stoneman, Calif., where her commanding officer was her sister, Jewel; a public information officer in Japan; and an information specialist at Fort Monmouth, N.J.

In the early 1960s, Specialist Allen learned French at the Defense Language Institute and completed her training in the prisoner of war interrogation course at Fort Holabird, Md. She completed interrogation and intelligence analyst courses at Fort Bragg.

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

After asking to go to South Vietnam, she arrived in October 1967 for the first of her three tours of duty there.

“I had so many skills, so much education and training being wasted in various posts around the country that I decided I wanted to make a difference in a high-action post like Vietnam,” she told Lavender Notes, a publication for older LGBTQ+ adults, in 2020.

She left no immediate survivors.

Image
Specialist Allen in Vietnam in an undated photo. She is wearing her Army uniform, a hat, black rimmed glasses and a watch.
Specialist Allen at the Women’s Army Corps barracks at Long Binh, Vietnam, in an undated photo. She left in 1970 after seeing a stolen enemy document with her name on a list of targets to kill.Credit...via Christina Brown Fisher

Specialist Allen’s Tet analysis was not the only warning of hers to go unheeded. She advised a colonel not to send a convoy to Song Be, in southern South Vietnam, because of a possible ambush, which occurred. Five flatbed trucks were blown up; three men were killed and 19 wounded.

But she was listened to when she warned in early 1969 that the North Vietnamese had placed scores of 122-millimeter rockets around the perimeter of the Long Binh operations center, northeast of Saigon, and that they were to be used in a major attack. She wrote a memo that led to an airstrike that destroyed the rockets.

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

Later that year, Specialist Allen learned that the North Vietnamese were planning to use 83-millimeter chemical mortars. She wrote a report that saved as many as 100 Marines, who had been instructed in her memo to avoid any contact with the mortars when they fell in their area; they later exploded. A grateful colonel sent a memo suggesting that whoever had written the report deserved the Legion of Merit.

Specialist Allen did not receive that decoration but did earn a Bronze Star with two oak clusters, among many awards. She left South Vietnam in 1970 after seeing a stolen enemy document with her name on a list of targets to kill.

After serving 10 more years in the Army she retired as a chief warrant officer.

By then she had received her master’s degree in counseling from Ball State University in Indiana in 1977. After her military service, she worked with a private investigator, Bruce Haskett, whom she had met when they were in counterintelligence. She earned a Ph.D. in clinical psychology from the Wright Institute in Berkeley, Calif., in 1986, and mentored young psychologists.

“She was incredibly savvy about people and had an innate ability to size people up quickly,” Mr. Haskett said in an interview. “She was the kind of person who could walk into a pit of vipers and have everybody eating out of her hands in 15 minutes.”

Monday, June 24, 2024

A00229 - Angeles Florez Peon, Spanish Civil War's Last Militiawoman

 

Ángeles Flórez Peón, Spanish Civil War’s Last Militiawoman, Dies at 105

She was revered as an essential guardian of the country’s memory of war and repression long after the Franco dictatorship.

Listen to this article · 7:00 min Learn more
She is sitting on a red leather armchair next to a cabinet with framed photos on it. She has brown hair and is wearing an olive-green dress, a pearl necklace, a gold ring and gold bracelets.
Ángeles Flórez Peón in 2016. Her political engagement with Spain began after her brother Antonio, a Communist, was taken prisoner by the republic’s Civil Guard.Credit...Daniel More, via El Comerico

Ángeles Flórez Peón was 17 when she braved mortar and artillery fire to bring food to her fellow Republican volunteers in the trenches of northern Spain during the Spanish Civil War.

At 18, she was a nurse tending to the wounded in the doomed effort to save Spain from a military takeover. Nationalist troops attacked the hospital where she worked, in coastal Asturias, and she was later arrested and sentenced to 15 years in a women’s prison — marked forever, she said, by the memory of seeing fellow inmates being taken out at night and shot.

Ms. Flórez Peón died on May 23 in a hospital in Gijón, Asturias. She was 105. The Spanish press, which first reported her death, called her the last remaining militiawoman of the Spanish Civil War.

Pedro Sánchez, Spain’s Socialist prime minister, paid tribute to her on social media, writing, “105 years of dignity, commitment and struggle for equality, liberty and social justice.”

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

Last year, in regional elections in Asturias, Ms. Flórez Peón, at 104, was the oldest Socialist candidate on the ballot.

After her death, the daily newspaper El País wrote, “Her life straddled an era of intense emotions, of hopes, grand illusions and joys, the irruption of war, repression, enormous suffering, punishment and exile.”

Ms. Flórez Peón was known as Maricuela, the name of her character in a play she was in when Gen. Francisco Franco began his military uprising against the Spanish Republic in 1936.

She was celebrated not so much for her relatively modest contribution to the long-ago fight for the Spanish Republic as for representing the living memory of that period, one that still scars and fascinates her country.

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

Ms. Flórez Peón was a last militant vestige of her country’s stillborn modernization under the Second Spanish Republic, an eight-year democratic interlude between monarch and dictatorship that, with its promise of gender equality, was crushed by Franco, leading to his nearly 40-year rule.

Image
A black-and-white photo of a young Ms. Flórez Peón is featured on the cover of “Memorias de Ángeles Flórez Peón: Maricuela.” She is wearing a flower-patterned dress and a pearl necklace and is sitting sideways but is looking straight at the camera. Her left arm is resting on her lap while her right arm and hand are propped under her chin.
Credit...Fundación José Barreiro

“I count myself one of the lucky ones,” she said in 2018 at a book festival gathering in Madrid to celebrate a volume of her memoirs. Recalling the prisoners who were shot during her four years in the dreaded Santurrarán women’s prison in Guipúzcoa, she said: “I saw them go to their deaths. That’s why I’m shedding tears. Because I can talk about this, and I’m alive.”

Image
They are seen in separate sepia-toned headshots. He is wearing a suit and tie with a white dress shirt, and she is wearing a dress, a pearl necklace and earrings.
Ms. Flórez Peón and her husband, Graciano Rozada Vallina. They married in 1946. The next year, escaping detention by Franco’s police, he fled to France, and she soon followed him there. Credit...Ángeles Flórez Peón, via El Comerico

Ms. Flórez Peón’s political engagement with her country began with the murder of her 29-year-old brother, Antonio, a Communist who took part in an Asturian miners’ strike and uprising in October 1934. He became one of the so-called martyrs of Carbayín, 24 young men who met a violent death after being taken prisoner by the shaky republic’s Civil Guard. Thousands were killed in subsequent weeks of repression against socialists, communists and anarchists — a bloody prelude to the civil war.

“His death marked my life,” she said in an interview in 2013. “When my brother was murdered, I realized I had to do something.”

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

She joined the Juventudes Socialistas Unificadas, or United Socialist Youth group, and when Franco’s military staged its coup in July 1936, she heard loudspeakers in the main square of her town, Pola de Siero, calling for volunteers “to go defend the republic,” she recalled.

Ms. Flórez Peón went to work in a restaurant kitchen, helping to cook for the hastily organized Republican volunteers on the front lines. When she brought them food, “shots surrounded us from all sides,” she recalled, “but we were young and were not afraid of anything.”

Image
She is sitting on a red leather couch as she holds a birthday cake with three lit numeral candles to indicate her age. She is wearing a green leaf-patterned blouse and a gold necklace and earrings.
Ms. Flórez Peón celebrated her 101st birthday in 2019. “I was lucky to get out alive,” she said of her incarceration during the Spanish Civil War. “In prison, they humiliated us and starved us.”Credit...Juan Carlos Tuero, via El Comerico

As the front line drew nearer, women were moved further back. Ms. Flórez Peón was recruited to work as a hospital nurse in a converted match factory in Gijón, on the Bay of Biscay.

She and one of her sisters were put in charge of a ward with 30 patients, mostly wounded Basque militiamen. That lasted some two months, until the fall of Asturias in October 1937. Then came her arrest, a 15-minute court-martial and prison.

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

“I was lucky to get out alive,” she told El País in 2016. “In prison, they humiliated us and starved us.”

Ángeles Flórez Peón was born on Nov. 17, 1918, in Blimea, Asturias, to José Flórez Llusia, a miner, and Restituta Peón Iglesias, a midwife. Her parents separated when she was 9, and at 12 she was sent out to mop floors to help support her family.

“There was so much misery,” she said in the 2013 interview. “I couldn’t go to school or do any studies.”

She later apprenticed as a dressmaker.

Her boyfriend during the war, Quintin Serrano, a police officer for the republic, was shot and killed while she was in prison. “He left me a ring, a bracelet, and a letter,” she said.

The war ended with the republic’s defeat in April 1939, but she remained in prison under the Franco regime until August 1941. After her release, she found work in a pharmacy.

ADVERTISEMENT

SKIP ADVERTISEMENT

In 1946, she married Graciano Rozada Vallina, a miner and Socialist militant who had been seized by Franco’s police while serving with Republican forces but who managed to escape and flee to France the next year. She soon joined him there, in Saint-Éloy-les-Mines, where they lived until his death in 2003. That year, after 56 years in exile, she returned to Gijón to bury his ashes.

She is survived by her two children, María Ángeles Rozada and José Antonio Rozada, two grandchildren and one great-grandson.

Ms. Flórez Peón, who in her 90s was described by El País as “petite, smiling, charming, and walking with a firm step,” was delighted to pose for selfies at the Madrid book festival, where she presented her memoirs, “Memorias de Ángeles Flórez Peón: Maricuela” published in 2009, and “Las Sorpresas de Maricuela” (“Surprises of Maricuela”), from 2013.

“She wrote her memoirs in France,” Mr. Rozada, her son, said. “It was during those years after we had grown up. I think she started at the end of the ’70s. We got her a typewriter, and she learned how to use it. She was a woman with a lot of energy, and she had a strong desire to write. She wrote pages and pages. She thought it was important to write the memoirs of those who had died, so that today’s youth could share the memory.”

Ms. Flórez Peón remained committed to socialism, gender equality and gay rights. Her son recalled, “She always said: ‘Be careful. If we’re not united, the extreme right will come back.’” And she remained proud of her role as an essential guardian of Spain’s memory after decades of state-imposed forgetting during the Franco years.

“A country without a memory is a country without a soul,” she said. “Spain was soulless. We can’t forget, and we can’t resent. Because if we did, we become like them.”