This is the second of three letters my father posted to my mother after we left Saigon on April 3, 1975. In it he mentions letters that he’d received from my mother since our departure which meant the mail was traveling surprisingly fast at that time. It is hard to imagine, these days, the long “radio silences” that had to be endured by people who had no high-speed communications. Even phone calls at that time and in those circumstances were rarely made.
My parents relied on letters like this one, which certainly must have felt like not-quite-enough at that time. But thankfully, for us, we have them now.
16 April
Dear Nance,
Where do I begin?? The last two weeks are so filled with action you would never believe it. I have just received your second and third letters and understand your concern. We are going along day by day, doing what must be done and preparing for “tomorrow.”
I could write volumes about the last days—the bombing of the palace, the Bien Hoa shoot out, Xuan Loc and all---but that must wait until later.
Tomorrow Bowman, Chanh, Gass, Tinh, and I are flying in a small plane to an offshore island to assess the possibility of relocating. We lost everything in MR I [Military Region One], and I don’t intend to have that reoccur here. I am ahead of the whole station in doing my own thing and intend to keep it that way. I still hope we have time. Naturally, more and more people are coming to me to get their relatives on the evac list. It is sort of heartbreaking to say I will do what I can but I cannot promise. I would half of Vietnam on it if I opened up completely.
Duffy [our pet poodle] and Viking [our friend’s German shepherd] are due to be shipped to you on 22 April via Pan Am with a transfer to SF. I hope this gets to you before they do—but no matter. Neither realizes that the other is not a female so be prepared for some sex fun when you greet them.
I hope our household goods—together with those of the others—leave on a ship that is sailing tomorrow. As far as I have been able to find out from logs it will be aboard. We may be horrendously overweight, but who cares?
Hal, Ed, and I are sitting here discussing tomorrow’s activities and all our problems. Ed has come over after curfew to discuss some very important problems. He will stay with us tonight.
It is now 11 pm and I must hit the sack. Tomorrow will be another big day as all the last days have been, and Jones and Bowman are giving me a hard time on all the things I am trying to say (Jones suggested I say this).
Give all my best to the kids and to Rab and mom [my mother’s father and mother]. I will try to get a letter off to Moth [his mother] when I get back.
Greatest Love,
Jim
There is one additional letter written from the ship, the American Challenger, just five days after the Fall of Saigon. I will reprint each letter on the day it was sent, and then by May 5, I will have reached a conclusion to this section of “Stories of Vietnam.”
This Substack newsletter offers a historical and personal glimpse into the Vietnam Era, a history worth preserving and sharing. If you agree, please support my efforts by liking, commenting, or sharing.
I am the author of the nonfiction book, For the Love of Vietnam: a war, a family, a CIA official, and the best evacuation story ever heard, which combines the history of the Vietnam War with tales from my family’s lives including how we resided in Saigon in 1974-75 as the North Vietnamese Army was making its way toward the city, and how, at the eleventh hour, my father, a CIA official, coordinated the rescue of over 1,000 South Vietnamese—the staff and families of “House Seven.”
I continue to publish current and retrospective “Stories of Vietnam” here on Substack, adding layers to my own stories and featuring other voices, including those of Vietnam veterans and Vietnam refugees. I reside in the Capital District of New York.
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.