Memories Of The Fall Of Saigon
Twenty-five years ago, on April 30, 1975, the last Americans were evacuated from Vietnam. Then, and now, there were many conflicting opinions about our presence in Vietnam. CBSNews.com wants to hear from you - telling us where you were when Saigon fell and how you felt about it, then and today.
I graduated from high school in 1969, without plans for the future. I knew that Uncle Sam had plans for me if I didn't. My Dad had been a Marine Corps Drill Instructor in the early days of World War II and then was an island hopper throughout the south pacific campaign. He had been on Iwo Jima, Guadalcanal, Saipan, Tinan, and various other islands. In April of 1944 on the 7th day of the invasion of Okinawa, he was severely wounded. After recovering from his wounds and upon his discharge he was the first person to join the Wyoming National Guard, following the war.
My best friend and I had both drawn low numbers in the lottery of 1969 and were surely due to be drafted. He joined the Guard and wanted me to go in with him. The day he asked my Dad if he approved, is a day I will long remember. He came out of his chair like a rocket, went nose to nose with my friend and shouted, "the day my son joins the Guard to keep from going to Vietnam there will be a bigger war in this living room than there is in Vietnam." I somehow knew he would not approve. Later that night I asked my Dad, "should I join the Marines?" Dad said he didn't expect me to join the Marines or Army, but he thought I should join the Air Force or Navy and try to learn something other than being a foot soldier. I tried and there was a waiting list for both branches. I took my chances on the draft. I went to college one semester and had a student deferment. After one semester, I dropped out and was immediately 1-A. I was called for my pre-induction physical and passed with flying colors. I checked the roster in the local selective service office every week from then on. Seeing that I would surely go by the end of 1970, I was prepared. Some call it lucky and some a blessing -- I was not drafted. Missed it by one person. Today I wish I had been drafted. Friends of mine were dying and coming home wounded and I was not doing my part. Still bothers me today.
In April of 1975 I still had friends over there. One was a helicopter pilot. I was running a local hardware store in my hometown of approximately 2,500. We knew each other here, like family and we all hurt for each other. I remember having one of the display TV's on and watching the news as it unfolded -- Saigon falling to the north and Marines trying to keep people from entering the Embassy. We had never lost a war, and it was obvious we were losing this one. I went to talk with my Dad that evening and with a lump in my throat, told him how I felt about not having one my part. He told me that he feared that we did not have a plan to win and that he feared that I would join out of pride and patriotism, as he had taught me growing up. He told me that he understood how I felt and assured me that I would still have felt as helpless today had I gone.
On April 4th this year I stood at the grave of a great man, whom I called Dad and knew that he could not encourage me because he cared enough to love his son. Too many lives were lost for nothing. I was not a protester, but I still blame our government for the loss of lives in Vietnam and for their failure to develop a plan to win that war.
Jerry G. Orr
Wheatland, WY
I clearly remember that day -- April 30, 1975. I was in my first year of college. I had so many dreams for when I would graduate. That morning, Saigon collapsed. Our allied American soldiers pulled out. There was chaos everywhere.
We had a feeling that we were going to loose everything: our freedom, our religion, our belongings. I could see from my parents' eyes signs of stress and hopelessness. They were worried for our future. Our lives had been turned upside down by this war.
So many lives had been lost –- both American and Vietnamese. We had lost so much, that even after 25 years it still hurts. I was lucky enough to jump on a boat and get out of Vietnam.
Today, I live in the USA, and I promise to work to make sure that we never have another war like that again. Our children and our grand children should never have to go through what we did. Twenty-five years later the war is still in the back of my mind.
Minh Nguyen
Though I was only six at the time Saigon fell, I remember when it happened.
Having had an uncle who died in Vietnam in 1966, I had heard quite a bit about the war. I never knew my Uncle Bob but I remember the sadness that fell over the room every time his name or the Vietnam War was mentioned. I remember watching the telecasts of the evacuations. People crying, children crying. So many children.
It was not long afterward that my neighborhood became a home to many of the families and children that had been evacuated. Many of the kids were my age and were enrolled in my school. None of them spoke any English. They all wore ill-fitting clothes. And I will never forget the frightened look in their eyes. I was lucky enough to have two sisters by the names of Chi and Kun (I think that's how their names were spelled) enrolled in my class. Though we could not communicate verbally at first, sign language, however crude, worked. It turned out that Chi and Kun were living in the apartment building across from our duplex. I walked home with them that first day and every day after that. We became fast frieds and I even have pictures of them at my 7th birthday party.
They moved away after about a year. I never knew what happened to them. I don't even remember their last name. But I know that because of the fall of Saigon and their safe escape, I was able to make two, as well as many other, new friends.
If anyone reading this happens to know of Chi and Kun who once lived in
Pomona, CA back in 1975-76 please contact me at Mood2bein@aol.com.
Chrissy Lojero
Pomona, Ca.
In 1975, I was a fairly new second lieutenant at Shepard A.F.B. in Wichita Falls, Texas. My duty was teaching South Vietnam air cadets to fly jets. My first class had graduated only a few weeks earlier and had returned home to South Vietnam. They had mixed emotions returning to a situation they knew was not as bright as the Americans thought. Down, deep inside, I think they knew the truth. We were perhaps trying to convince ourselves that everything would work out all right. I remember they left with feelings of pride in their latest accomplishment and honored to return home to aid their country in a meaningful way, diluted with feelings of fear of defeat, or worse.
As that fateful day in April neared, the current class of cadets, the last one we would ever see, was approaching their own graduation. They were receiving word from family members and friends back home and were getting very nervous about what they might face when they graduated and returned to Vietnam. For the last few months, some members of their class, as well as others who preceded them, had given in to their fear and deserted. To our knowledge, these deserters went over the border into Canada to ensure their government could not get them back. I'm sure they got these ideas from the American draft dodgers so plentiful back in those days.
As if the approaching graduation was not increasing the tension among the new pilots, news was coming in every day about former students who had either attempted to escape the on-coming North Viet Cong and failed, or in some cases had succeeded. We heard horror stories of how as many as 6 or 7 people would cram themselves into the cockpit of an A-37 Dragonfly and try to take off, only to find the aircraft could not get airborne in time to avoid a fiery crash at the end of the runway. Other stories related similar activities. One of our former students contacted us after he escaped the country and told us about another former student, who had gotten airborne but ran out of fuel and crashed. He hadn't had time to get a parachute.
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As the Viet Cong neared Saigon and the evacuation began in earnest, I had not heard anything about either of these men and was beginning to worry. Finally, on the day before the fall, I heard that Van had made it out of Viet Nam by jumping on the open ramp of an overloaded C-130 as it took off from one of the air bases. He literally had to hang on for dear life as the aircraft gained altitude until someone could pull him in. Apparently many could not hang on as the aircraft climbed and fell to their death.
I received a letter from Van a few weeks later from Paris, France. He had made his way there and was attempting to get into a college and wanted to get some evidence of his pilot training academic record. The really sad part of the letter was his account of his escape and the fact that he had to leave his new bride and family behind. That was the last time I ever heard from him. I never did hear from Hu but from the rumors we heard, many of the military loyal to South Vietnam were killed.
A few days after the fall of Saigon, we had the last graduation for South Vietnam air cadets at Shepard A.F.B. It was a sad occasion to say the least. The commander of the cadets, a colonel in the South Vietnam Air Force, gave a moving speech about how they would go back home someday and re-take their country from the Communist Viet Cong. In reality, none of these students returned home. Most of them were sponsored by instructors or local families in Wichita Falls and stayed in the area.
I supported then, and I continue to support now, the principles on the Vietnam war. But that doesn't make the sadness of the fall or that graduation fade.
Gary Jackson
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I was a member of the 173rd Airborne. I was not there at the fall of Saigon, however I watched it on TV and my heart was pounding because I knew what those people woulbe going through.
You can't describe the fear in words. We just pulled out and the government made a "slight" attempt for the media to make it look like we were concerned for all those people. I was young and dumb -- 19 years old -- and thought I was fighting for freedom for the South Vietnamese people!
We would spend 4 weeks in the boonies (jungle) and then come in for 2 or 3 days in the rear (base camp). Unlike the few movies about Vietnam, we were not all baby killers and dope heads -- at least in the unit I was in. I don't know much about what has happened over there in the 30 years since I was there, but I will say and believe this -- some of us gave all we had to give the people of South Vietnam a chance. Little did we know that our own government did not want us to win! Thus, the fall of Saigon was meant to happen -- at least in my viewpoint.
H. R. Armstrong
Infantry Rifleman
173rd ABN (SEP)
Vietnam 1968/1969
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I participated in Operation Frequent Wind in April of 1975 (the evacuation of Saigon). Things prior to, during, and following the fall of Saigon were hectic. The sights, sounds, smells, and general memories of that time are yet a jumble in my mind, but the things that stands out in my mind the most as to how I was feeling at the time and were shame, anger and rage.
To this very day I feel nothing but shame and anger at having been in this operation. And by how the U.S. stood by and allowed a place where American youth bled the ground red from the time I was 10 years old until I was 23, to merely fold-up and collapse like a badly put together house of cards.
I also think of Marines like Thomas Staples, John Andrella, and Juan Sanchez. Soldiers like Vincent LaRoccha, and Robert Perry. Sailors like Milo Hamby, Bill Gunkle, and Stephen Jarvis. How much would these men have offered to the world were their lives not "wasted" in this war. For some of them, that life ended with a name being etched on a wall. And for others, the battles to fight scars and wounds still continue.
Twenty-five years may have passed since Operation Frequent Wind, yet I feel the same way now about it as I did then.
Never let an event like this happen again...NEVER.
Keith M. Bean
Hospital Corpsman 1st Class (SW)
United States Navy (1970-1982)
I was only 5 in 1975 but I still remember how much the war upset my parents, neighbors, and people on TV. I remember sitting in the living room, watching the news each night, hearing about "our boys" that were dying. My mother would talk about her brother who was on a ship somewhere loading artillery onto planes, and how worried she was about him. She would cry when others spoke badly bout the American G.I.'s and at the horrible treatment they received when they came home.
At the dinner table that night with tears in her eyes, mom said, "Saigon fell today, they evacuated the American Embassy." We all bowed our heads and prayed for the safe return of all our boys and thanked the Lord for what we had been given.
Susan S.
I am currently on active duty in the U.S. Navy. I was nineteen and had been in the Navy for 2 years when we evacuated the American Embassy in Saigon during Operation Frequent Wind.
During the evacuation my time on the USS Midway was divided between cooking and helping feed the crew and refugees. I also helped take some refuges from the South Vietnamese helos up on the flight deck.
The Midway processed and fed over 7,000 evacuees. South Vietnamese officials came on board with their entourages and several large cases reported to contain large amounts of American money. (Thank you very much Uncle Sam.)
The Midway also salvaged 45 UH-1 Hueys and Cobras (of these, 2 were Air America aircraft, complete with bullet holes), 3 CH-47s and one fixed wing Cessna 01. (I haven't seen the 01 Birddog since then, but it's at NAS Pensacola Naval Air Museum, a gift from the Midway's crew.)
The landing of the Cessna was an emotional event for the Midway crew. In it was a South Vietnamese Colonel and his family. After some excellent flying and a lot of luck he made his intentions known -- he wanted to land on the Midway. He almost had to land in the water because of all the aircraft on deck. The CO, Captain L.C. Chambers, made a very gutsy decision to push some of the salvaged Hueys over the side to make room. The Vietnamese Colonel then landed with little room to spare and no gas. He and his family are now living in the America and are U.S. citizens.
After that we sailed to Thailand and Cambodia and picked up 105 South Vietnamese Air Force A-37s and F-5s and delivered them to the Naval Station Guam. The South Vietnamese pilots flew them there to escape the Communist take-over of Saigon. While we were loading the aircraft on board by helo, one broke its carrying sling and went in the water (it looked like a big lawn dart). We found out later the North Vietnamese were raising hell saying we "stole" these aircraft from them and they wanted them back. Go figure.
Lannie Hargis
MSCM(SS/SW), U.S. Navy
Read more letters in PART 1.