XIX. "A PRESIDENTIAL ORDER"

A grim-faced t1arine security guard admitted our small

convoy to the Embassy Compound. Word of the two dead marines

at Tan Son Nhut had already reached the Embassy. Outside

the gate, a small group of anxious Vietnamese had already

gathered. The drone of a chain saw pierced the air as

several people felled a large tree in the parking lot. Some­

one was obviously anticipating use of the lot as a helicopter

landing zone. Inside the Embasssy building, tight-lipped

American civilians were preparing to depart. Many walked

around in a daze, their faces registering disbelief at what

was happening. In the Political-Military Affairs office,

Colonel Madison received new orders. The "highest authority"

had decreed that all Americans must evacuate,including our

team and the Ambassador himself. There would be no official

American presence in Saigon at the conclusion of "Operation

Frequent Wind," the code name for the impending evacuation.

We also learned that Washington had finally directed the

implementation of "Option IV," a helicopter extraction. The

335

Ambassador had resisted this step throughout the morning.

Deeply conscious of his personal commitment to the thousands

of Vietnamese who desired to flee the Communists, he knew

that the C-130 fixed-wing shuttle was the best way to move

large numbers of people, The difficulty was that the condi­

tion of the runways at Tan Son Nhut rendered them unsafe for

fixed-wing operations. General Smith had recommended dis­

continuance of the C-130 shuttle when he learned that the run­

ways were cluttered with jettisoned VNAF ordnance. Only after

satisfying himself by a personal inspection that Tan Son Nhut

was too risky for continued operations did Ambassador Martin

accept General Smith's recommendation and call for Option IV.

Relieved of the burden of planning for a "last redoubt,"

we conducted a reconnaissance of the Embassy Compound. What

we saw convinced us that we faced a complex and dangerous

situation. To begin with, both the Embassy and the adjacent

combined recreation compound (CRA) were already packed with

people. Virtually every building in the CRA area was jammed

with humanity. Looting was in progress in the CRA restaurant,

where employees had surrendered to the mob. Several American

civilians had pulled slabs of beef out of the locker and were

hacking off pieces to cook over the kitchen burners. More

336

disturbing was the problem of the club's abundant stock of

unsecured liquor. The drinks were on the house, and the crowd

was taking full advantage of the situation. Colonel Summers

and I risked our popularity when we located the padlocks on

a nearby shelf and locked up the liquor cabinets. The last

thing we needed was a drunken mob.

Silver Air America Hueys began landing on the Embassy

roof to deposit Vietnamese and Americans who had been picked

up at various locations throughout the city. As the choppers

landed, the occupants of the numerous small buildings gathered

in the courtyard by the swimming pool, their eyes on the roof­

top pad. Only then did we realize the magnitude of our pro­

blem. At least 1,000 persons were camped within the walls of

the compound. The crowd was a mixture of Americans, Vietnamese,

Korean diplomats, and a sprinkling of other "Third Country

nationals. " Most of them seemed in good spirits considering

the circumstances, but, when they saw the helicopters, the smarter

ones began to stake out their claims to places near the gate.

Beyond the narrow gate, the Marines had almost completed the

preparation of the landing zone. Two Americans voluntarily

gave me their pistols, which was not a bad idea. We located

a cardboard box and circulated through the crowd to collect

337

weapons.

Our reconnaissance completed, we returned to the PoLMil

office, where tensions had escalated. Phones were ringing

off the hook as Americans and Vietnamese alike called to re­

port that they had assembled at the various staging areas.

All wanted to know where the buses or helicopters were. Down

in the CRA parking lot sat several buses. Someone began a

vain search for the drivers and then for any volunteers who

knew how to drive a bus. A bitter telephone exchange was under

way between one agency chief and an employee in a safe site.

The employee had reported as instructed to a villa, along

with dozens of Vietnamese employees. Now he was demanding

pick up. "You'll have to make your way to the Embassy _

that's all I can tell you," shouted the frustrated American

as he hung up. Moments later, after a frantic and unsuccessful

search for a way to have his people picked up, he solved his

dilemma by boarding a helicopter for a flight to the safety

of the fleet. The haunting phone calls from Embassy employees

stranded throughout the city continued all day. long past

the point where it was possible to send anyone to pick up the

callers.

The plan to evacuate the Embassy called for the movement

338

of most employees by bus to Tan Son Nhut. This was the reason

for the pre-positioned buses in the CRA parking lot. Only

key America~ _affers were supposed to depart by helicopter

off the Embassy roof. Overall, the plan envisioned that

not more than 300 persons would require evacuation from the

Embassy. No one anticipated that the Embassy would be occu­

pied by more than 2,000 persons demanding evacuation. By the

time our team arrived, Embassy staffers clearly needed assist­

ance in what had unexpectedly turned into a major military

evacuation. We monitored disturbing radio transmissions from

buses that were attempting to make the rounds of the safe

sites. One terrified voice reported that mobs of desperate

and angry Saigonese were beating on the doors of his stranded

bus. Even if we had had buses to move everyone to Tan Son Nhut

and the safety of the DAD's landing zones, it had become clear

that the convoys would probably be intercepted before they

could complete their run. The surface movement plan was in

trouble almost from the beginning. The only way to evacuate

the growing crowd in the courtyard was by a heavy-lift heli­

copter extraction. Sensing this dilemma, Colonel Madison

placed the services of our small team at the disposal of

Deputy Chief of Mission Wolfgang Lehmann. Lehmann promptly

339

LTC Harry Summers, who made a trip to Hanoi on 25 April 1975 as the North Vietnamese Army completed its encirclement of Saigon. Photo taken in the US Embassy parking lot on 29 April.

The main gate of the US Embassy at noon on 29 April. The press reported that the Embassy was surrounded by "thousands of panicky Vietnamese."

340

asked the colonel to take charge of the evacuation. The

senior Marine officer in the compound, Major Kean, would con­

trol his security guards and direct the landing of the heli­

copters. Our group would organize and marshall the evacuees

and load them on the helicopters.

We had a formidable task. By late afternoon, the crowd

had grown to well over 2,000, and people were still arriving.

During the day, eight busloads of evacuees abandoned attempts

to reach the DAO after encountering impassable conditions

near Tan Son Nhut. The entire city of Saigon appeared to be

disintegrating into anarchy. The buses finally disgorged

their people at the Embassy after a long and traumatic ride,

and their shaken passengers became our responsibility. Until

early afternoon, Air America helicopters continued to shuttle

passengers to the Embassy, all of whom would ultimately re­

quire transportation to the carriers off the coast of Vung

Tau. Throughout the day, a steady flow of Americans, allied

diplomats, and Vietnamese desiring evacuation converged on

the Embassy gates. Some carried luggage; others children,

and even pets. The Vietnamese among them waved papers to

support their claims for evacuation. The overwhelmed Marines

did their best to admit the Americans. They admitted very

341

few Vietnamese. There were numerous incidents of rough

treatment as people were hoisted over the wall -.- or forced

off.

The Marine guards were under strict orders to secure

the landing zone. This meant above all that they had to

prevent the Embassy from being overrun by panicky mobs

a condition that would have forced the shutdown of the

landing zone. We could not afford to have the Embassy

evacuation deteriorate into a repeat of the Danang or Nha

Trang debacles. The potential for such a loss of control

was ever-present during those last hours. In their efforts

to comply with these orders, our young and frightened Marines

resorted to the use of force to secure the walls, as several

historic photographs graphically testify. The use of force

was regrettable, but the Marines' determined performance of

duty prevented the Embassy landing zone from being overrun

by panicky Saigonese. Had this happened, no one would have

escaped. Until late afternoon, when we received three

platoons of reinforcements from the DAO area, a number of

wall-jumpers had joined the anxious crowds in the compound.

After the arrival of the marine reinforcements, the walls

were secure. We were then able to concentrate on preparing

342

the landing zone, reassuring the restless crowd, and marshall­

ing them into groups for loading when the helicopter flow

commenced.

One of Colonel Madison's first problems was with Embassy

staffers who balked at his order to remove several antenna

guy wires that were obstructing the flyaway at the head of

the landing zone. Although helicopters were en route,

Embassy personnel insisted that such alterations would

require permission. Aware that the wires posed dangerous

obstructions to safe operations, the Colonel brushed aside

their objections and ordered a marine to climb the towers and

cut the offending wires. If one helicopter had hit an obstacle

and crashed, our tight landing zone would have been permanently

closed.

The chain-link fence between the CRA compound and the park­

ing lot enabled us to control access to the main landing zone,

but it also posed problems. The fence and the firehouse effec­

tively isolated the waiting crowd from events in the Embassy

courtyard and parking lot. They could not see that we had

removed trees, parked sedans on the perimeter (their headlights

to be used to illuminate the LZ),and painted a large "Htl on

the asphalt. But they could see the continuous arrivals and

departures of the Air America Hueys on the rooftop pad, and

this sight produced mounting fear. R umors swept the crowd

that the Ambassador and his staff were leaving and that the

remaining evacuees were being abandoned. By mid-afternoon,

conditions in the compound had begun to deteriorate as our

impatient charges concluded that they were being left behind.

The marines experienced growing difficulties with the unruly

mob, many of whom were angry American contractors demanding

their "right" to evacuation. Colonel Summers observed the

increasingly volatile situation and entered the compound.

Assisted by Reverend Tom Stebbins, a local missionary

who spoke Vietnamese, the colonel circulated through the CRA

compound in an effort to control the grOWing fear. His mes­

sage was that everyone would be evacuated and that the order

of priority was Americans and their dependents first, followed

by Third Country nationals and Vietnamese. Once the crowds

received these assurances from an h' aut or~tative source, the

tension relaxed and the situation became manageable. In the

Embassy compound proper, Bill Herron and I repeated the same

message to the groups of evacuees that we had marshalled in

a courtyard next to the makeshift landing zone.

Our major problem from the beginning was the restraint

of the mounting panic caused by the painfully slow arrival

of the evacuation helicopters into our tight landing zone.

This difficulty was not shared by our colleagues at the DAO,

where almost 5,000 persons were evacuated in a smoothly

h I di zones that General executed extraction from t e an ng

Smith's planners had prepared during the month. The first

h d I d d a t Tan Son Nhut at 3:00 pm, and big Marine chopper a an e

the evacuation had proceeded like a "piece of cake" to use

General Smith's words. l Prior planning had paid off at the

Defense Attache Office. This was not so at the Embassy, where

h decl ining morale of the nearly 3,000 we struggled against t e

souls who were depending on us to get them to the fleet.

of the early lifts that did land in the Embassy were the

Most

CH-46

type, into which we could onLY cram fifty persons, and then

only if they abandoned their luggage. When a pair of Huey

h · and several Navy fighters appeared Cobra helicopter guns ~ps

overhead, a cheer went up from the crowd. In the "on-deck

circle," some evacuees knelt and prayed before boarding the

helicopters. To speed up the departures, we decided to operate

two landing zones simultaneously. Even though the Embassy

warned t hat the rooftop pad was not designed to engineer

l ·f helicopters, we had to take this risk, accommodate heavy- ~ t

Reinforcements arrive. Marines scramble from a CH-53 that landed in the Embassy compound late in the afternoon of the 29th of April.

Tension in the Embassy. Some eva-'>.1.le.es .knelt and prayed before boarding the helicopters.

346

Aerial view of the US Embassy Compound, Saigon, 1975.

A CH-1t6 inches ing zone in the

its US

way downward into the Embassy parking lot.

tight land-

Evacuees rush to board the waiting helicopter. No one had to be urged a second time to board.

and Colonel Madison therefore directed that we admit a large

number of persons from the CRA holding area and usher them

into the six-story Embassy stairwell. As the CH-46 choppers

alighted on the rooftop pad, these people were funneled up

the final flight of stairs to the roof and extracted. At

the same time, we continued to use the landing zone in the

parking lot below. It was an efficient system, marred only

by the interminable delays between aircraft. It seemed that

hours would pass with no action, and then suddenly we would

be swamped with aircraft allarriving at the same time.

As darkness approached, we heard rumors from the fleet

that the evacuation might be discontinued until the following

morning. A light rain had begun to fall and flying conditions

had deteriorated. Fortunately, someone made the wise decision

to keep on flying in spite of the heightened risk. It would

have been difficult, if not impossible, to control the situa­

tion had we been faced with such a delay. An alert Embassy

staffer produced a 35 mm slide projector, which we mounted on

the roof overlooking the landing zone. As the big birds began

their harrowing vertical descents, a marine turned on the pro­

jector and bathed the LZ in a rectangle of white light.

Some of the marine pilots had experienced difficulties

in locating the Embassy during the day. To guide them,

349

Major Kean and his men had been forced to pop colored smoke

grenades on several occasions. Since Kean and his small

command group had a radio, we assumed that he was in contact

with the pilots. Only after nightfall did we learn that this

assumption was incorrect. Kean had neither the frequency

nor the call signs to communicate with the pilots. Incredu­

lous, I hustled inside and sought out George Hanushevsky, a

former DAO communications technician who worked in the Embassy

Communications Center. George used the capabilities of his

console to get us the frequency and call sign of theDAO

Evacuation Control Center, which was controlling the aircraft.

Back in the parking lot, I set up a radio and established

contact with the DAO. Only then did we learn the reason

for the sputtering flow of helicopters to the Embassy. I

passed the word that the DAO expected to complete evacuation

by midnight. after which we would receive priority for the

lift helicopters. Until then, we could only sit tight and

use the time to insure that all evacuees abandoned their

luggage. The voice from Tan Son Nhut had emphasized that

the lifts would take people only M- no suitcases.

Fortunately. conditions outside the'Embassy had settled

down considerably as darkness descended on the city. Apart

350

from occasional gunfire from undisciplined ARVN troops around

the city (not directed at us), downtown Saigon was relatively

quiet and the streets around the Embassy had begun to return

to normal. We were not besieged by thousands of panic~stricken

Saigonese as some journalistic accounts have suggested. The

North Vietnamese armored thrust that ended at the Presidential

Palace a few blocks away did not commence until midnight.

Nonetheless, in the minds of those controlling the evacuation,

the impression had taken hold that we did not have control of

Us situation. Ultimately, this erroneous impression would

contribute to a tragic development.

We began to encounter serious difficulties around midnight.

For almost an hour, no helicopters arrived. The giant CH-53s

were refueling at sea after emptying out the DAD More than

1,000 people were still penned up in the CRA compound behind

the chain-link fence. Interpreting the long lull in the

arrival of choppers as proof that they were being abandoned,

the crowd began to panic. Pressure mounted against the fence.

At the gate, two young marines held their own, but tempers

were getting short. If the gate gave, controlled admission

of the evacuees to the landing zone would have been impossible.

The marine guards began fending the desperate people away from

the gate with their rifle butts, which didn't help a bit.

:;52

The situation quickly went from bad to worse as rumors again

swept through the apprehensive crowd. "The North Vietnamese

have given us until midnight to get out, then they are going

to start shooting at the evacuation ships." Hence the panic.

Everyone tried to be among the first fifty through the tiny,

four-foot gate.

"Open the gate and let me in." I ordered one of the

marines.

"Sir, you can't go in there," he replied, still fending

off the people who were pushing at the overloaded gate.

"Just open the gate. We've got to get them under control

or no one else will get out."

The marine cracked the gate and cursed at the frightened

crowd to back off. With a battery-powered bullhorn, I forced

my way into the crowd.

"Xin quy vi, im lang lai! 1m lang Lai dil" (Ladies and

gentlemen, please be quietI Be quietI) I repeated these

words over and over, urging them to "Xep hang hai di. i,

(Form a double file line!) No response. No one wanted any­

thing to do with it.

"Don't worry. You will all be evacuated. Dung 10. I'm

in here with you, and I'll be on the last helicopter. No one

:;5:;

is abandoning you. In a little while, the helicopters will

begin arriving again. But you must cooperate. Throwaway all

suitcases and form a double line. You people right here back

away from the gate so we can open it."

No one listened. More shoving and maneuvering towards

the gate followed. Those in front began to use their suit­

cases as battering rams. I could feel the panic spreading,

and the sinking sensation that we were about to see a replay

of Danang swept over me. A few meters away, an American with

a Vietnamese wife collapsed of a heart attack. Someone carried

him to the main compound for departure on the next lift, and

I tried again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please be quietI If you don't listen

to me, no one will go, including me. You must listen! All of

you will get to go. Please! Form a double line and throwaway

your suitcases. Line up in family groups. The helicopters will

take only people -- not suitcases. Khong ai se be bo lai!" (No

one will be left behindl).

Still no results. Everyone wanted the real estate next to

the gate. A diminutive Vietnamese in a white shirt tugged on

my arm.

"Excuse me, sir, I am interpreter here in the Embassy. The

Vietnamese all want to cooperate, but these people (he gestured

toward the crowd closest to the gate) are Koreans and have

pushed our p~ople out of the way. I will try to help you

with our people, but you must do something about the Koreans."

Sheepishly, I realized he was right. The gate was "held" by

a phalanx of taller, flat-faced Koreans. "God I Almost four

years over here and they still all look alike!" I tried

English.

"Is there a Korean officer here please?"

In a moment, a Korean naval officer shoved his way to the

front.

"Look, sir, you've got to discipline your people. No shov­

ing - back off from the gate, and get them in a double linel

Please I They don't understand me. You may use the bullhorn

if you wish. Tell them that I'm in here and wouldn't be here

if the evacuation were really over. No one will leave me

behind I But they must cooperatel"

The Korean nodded, "Our people have disciplined themselves,

but the Vietnamese began pushing. We will cooperate with you

now." He rejected the offer of the bullhorn and faded away.

Reinforcements finally arrived. Colonel Summers and Bill

Herron, observing my plight, waded into the crowd and bailed

~55

me out. We linked arms at the gate and physicalJ;y assaulted

the closest people into retreating. Then, magically, the

Koreans formed a double line on the left, followed promptly

by the Vietnamese on the right. My arms ached (Later, I

discovered that my legs were black and blue from being

battered by suitcases.). But, for the first time, the

crowds were quiet and the situation was under control. We

moved everyone through the gate into the main Embassy compound

and directed them up the stairway that led to the roof of

the fire station overlooking the parking lot. Now they

could see the ongoing departures if we would only get some

helicopters. We also got an accurate count; 1,100 souls

remained. When the last family had passed through the gate,

I spotted several people picking through the debris on the

far side of the pool.

"Di khong?" (Are you going?)

"Da khong. 0 la;." (No' I t i ) On f 4 , Sl-r. we re s ay ng. e amily.

Tempted by the chance to loot the mountain of abandoned suit-

cases perhaps? Or more frightened of leaving Vietnam than of

the advancing Communists? No time for discussion. We sealed

the gate and thereby reduced the size of the remaining American­

held real estate in Vietnam by fifty percent. Now the marines

356

had only the Embassy wall proper to guard. It was almost

2:00 am.

Once inside the Embassy compound, the evacuees cooperated

fully. even when we directed them to discard their remaining

luggage. We continued to reassure them that we would leave

last and that Ambassador Martin himself had stated his inten-

tion to remain until all Vietnamese employees were safely

evacuated.

As the chopper flow resumed, several groups moved into

the Embassy stairwell and departed on CH-46 "Sea Knight"

choppers from the rooftop pad. In the parking lot, other

groups boarded giant CH-53s for their ride to the carriers

of "Task Force 75," on station thirty minutes away on the

South China Sea.

By 3:00 am, the chopper flow had become a near traffic

jam. We worked frantically to hustle the evacuees onto

the CH-53s, which had begun landing and departing almost

f th A German Priest who spoke Vietnamese on top 0 one ano er.

joined the Embassy firemen in volunteering to remain until

the last lift. "I'll go when you go," he insisted as he

circulated among the refugees, repeating our assurances

that no one would be left behind. Six lifts cleared out all

357

but 420 of our charges. No more Americans remained.

Ambassador Martin appeared in the parking lot, accom­

panied by his marine bodyguard. He looked completely exhausted

as he surveyed our situation. Before disappearing into the

Embassy, he directed Colonel Madison to assemble all remain­

ing evacuees in the parking lot and obtain an accurate head

count.

At 4:15 am, Colonel Madison informed Mr. Lehmann that

six more lifts would complete the evacuation. Lehmann replied

that there would be no more heavy-lift birds. The evacuation

was over. Colonel Madison stood on our promise and insisted

that we would leave on the final lift only after all evacuees

under our care had been extracted. Lehmann relented. The

birds would be provided. Colonel Madison relayed tre word to

us, and we once again reassured the remaining evacuees that

we would depart together. A few minutes later, we received

further reassurance from Ambassador Martin's Special Assistant,

Brunson MCKinley, who came out of the Embassy to tell Colonel

Summers that the necessary lifts would be provided.

Shortly thereafter, Major Kean appeared and informed

Colonel Madison that no additional helicopters would be avail­

able except for the lifts required to extract us and the

358

marine guards. Nearby, the 420 remaining evacuees sat in

eight disciplined groups, their eyes searching the sky for

the helicopters that we had promised them over and over.

Colonel Madison reacted angrily. "We were promised the six

birds to get these people out. I'll take this up with the

Ambassador or his deputy."

Pointing to a CH-46 that had just lifted off the Embassy

roof, the marine replied, "You can't sir, they just left."

Colonel Madison calmly announced our intention to remain

until everyone was evacuated as promised. The marine coun­

tered: the cancellation of all further lifts was by presidential

order. He would not "risk the safety" of his men any longer.

With this announcement, we realized that we were finished.

A quick conference followed. No one wanted to abandon the

remaining Vietnamese, but a presidential order? Maybe the

North Vietnamese have entered the city, or perhaps they've

begun to shoot at the evacuation helicopters. One thing was

certain. No marines, no more helicopters. No US helicopter

would land on an unsecured landing zone. Colonel Madison

then made the most painful decision of his career. We must

leave in spite of our repeated assurances to the remaining

Vietnamese that we would depart only after they were safe.

359

The colonel ordered me to remain with the refugees While

the others made discreet preparations to transfer our gear

to the roof. Sitting on the trunk deck of a sedan, I manned

the radio and glanced skyward -- sick inside at the impending

betrayal. I contemplated staying but rejected this course

as fruitless. (You won't get them out anyway, and you'll be

branded as a defector -- or at best as one who disobeyed a

presidential order.)

A CH-46 alighted on the roof and quickly departed, and I

wondered whether I was supposed to be on board. The refugees

squatting closest to me glanced anxiously up at the departing

bird. I reassured them that a "big helicopter" was on its

way to pick them up. I gazed skyward, looking for a heli­

copter that I knew would never come. Minutes later, I excused

myself to go to the bathroom and slipped into the back door of

the Embassy.

In the foyer, my glance fell on the bronze plaque dedicated

to the marines and military policemen who died defending the

Embassy during the 1968 Tet Offensive. Earlier inthe day, I

had received permission to take it with us ratherthan leave it

for the Communists or the looters. I had even removed it from

the wall with a crowbar. Now, the heavy plaque lay on the

:;60

floor, almost obscured by a carpet of rubble. Books, Viet­

namese piaster notes, abandoned pistol belts, canteens, holsters,

attache cases, and mountains of shredded documents-- the debris

was strewn everywhere, all materialized in the brief twenty­

four hours since Communist rockets and artillery had set the

final drama in motion. Disgusted at what I was about to do ,

I cancelled my plans to rescue the plaque. ("Those guys would

rollover in their graves if they could see what's happening

now! ")

I made a quick dash up the stairs and glanced into the

political-military affairs office, but the others were gone.

The Embassy was still and empty. I ran up the roof, stumbling

on the litter in the stairwell that had just corridored hun­

dreds to freedom. A CH-4b had just landed, and I encountered

two of our NCOs at the head of the stairs. The others had all

left on the previous lift. We were it. Gunnery Sergeant Ernie

Pace boarded the helicopter, followed by Specialist Bill Bell.

Bell was so exhausted from fighting the crowds that he crawled

up the ramp of Ehe helicopter. I scrambled aboard, and the

aircraft lifted off a minute later carrying only the three of

us and one stray marine guard.

As the chopper banked, I caught a final glimpse of the

:;61

illuminated parking lot. The remaining refugees were still

squatting in disciplined groups and I spotted the Embassy

firemen. still in their yellow coats and helmets; their

families were waiting for them on one of the carriers. Al­

though I couldn't see him, I knew that the German priest was

down there too, probably continuing to relay our reassurances

to the trusting evacuees. Also seated among the unlucky

group were more than a dozen diplomats of the South Korean

Embassy. It had not yet dawned on anyone that they were

among the victims of the final betrayal. It was 5:30 am,

30 April, and outside the Embassy walls, the streets of

Saigon were quiet and empty.

We sat silently. The helicopter's turbines were deafening

with the ramp partly open, but it was a blessing. If I had

tried to talk, I would have cried. I know of no word in any

language that can describe the sense of shame that swept over

me during that flight.

"Light at the end of the tunnel" The USS Coral Sea picked up hundreds of refugees.

A Marine CH-53 lands on the USS Okinawa on the morning of 30 April 1975.

363

Colonel Jack Madison talks with Marine Sergeant Ken Maloney on the hangar deck of the Okinawa •

." ¢

With Colonel Madison and LTC Summers On the Okinawa, 30 April 1975. No smiles.

XX. "THE RICE OF THE US NAVY"

Aboard the U.S.S. Okinawa, an angry Colonel Madison sought

out the helicopter squadron commander to learn why the evacu­

ation had suddenly ended. The marine officer, Lieutenant

Colonel J~ Bolton, confessed that he and his fellow heavy­

lift commanders had been completely unaware that six more

CH-53 sorties would have completed the Embassy extraction.

Colonel Bolton explained apologetically that the heavy-lift

commanders had believed that they were dealing with a "bottom­

less pit" at the Embassy. Because of this conviction, they

had generated pressure to terminate the evacuation. Bolton

explained that some of the marine aviators had already flown

more than eighteen hours without a break. The impression

had spread throughout the fleet that the headstrong Ambassador

Martin was trying to evacuate the entire population of Saigon

through the Embassy conduit. Heartsick at the news of the

abandoned Vietnamese, Colonel Bolton told Colonel Madison

that he and the other commanders would never have pressured

for termination if they had known the true situation. The

365

news that they had failed to make a clean sweep of the Em­

bassy was not well-received by the aviators, who had performed

heroically only to be robbed of complete success by a communi-

cations breakdown.

Much later, at Subic Bay, Ge~eral Carey explained to me

that he had the same impression of the Embassy situation as

the marine aViators.* At the time of the critical decision

to halt the Embassy evacuations, he believed that "We had

to shut off that flow or we'd probably still be there."

He, too, had been deeply disappointed when he learned how

close we had come to a flawless extraction from the Embassy.

Air Force Lieutenant Colonels Art Laehr and Jack Hilgen-

berg manned the Evacuation Control Center at the DAO. From

their account of the Embassy situation, one can reconstruct

at least part of President Ford's reason for ordering the

untimely halt to the Embassy operation:

One of the things that kept the Evacuation Con~rol Center busy was the situation at the Embassy. There were approximately 1,000 persons at the Embassy on the morning of the 29th. During the day, an additional 1,000 plus would come aboard. It was ironic that no matter how many people the helicopters hauled out of the Embassy, the estimate of evacuees was always 2,000. How long that would have continued is any­one's guess. The Commander-in-Chief, Pacific and Nakhon Phanom kept calling for updates on the Embassy situa tion, and it was always the. same - - 2,000 to go.

* BG Richard Carey, commander of the Marine Ground Security Force during the evacuation.

This caused considerable concern with the evacuation control personnel outside the country, but the Defense AttacheOffice had no way to verify the figure. At 19:30 that evening, the US Embassy was still reporting 2,000 to go. Everyone in the Evacuation Control Center believed that if the evacuation had continyed for days, the estimate would have remained 2,000.

-------------------------------------------------------------On board the Okinawa, our reunited team was understandably

bitter at what we had just been forced to do. Near the end

of our emotional and physical endurance, we blamed Ambassador

Martin, Minister Lehmann, President Ford, and several other

actors in the drama for the unconscionable breach of faith

in the Embassy courtyard. In the emotion of the moment, it

was small comfort that we had successfully evacuated more

than 2,000 persons scant hours before NVA tanks had entered

Saigon. We could not -_ and still cannot -- fully understand

why accurate reports of conditions in the Embassy parking lot

did not make it out of the Embassy. Both the Ambassador and

Minister Lehmann had toured the landing ~one as late as 4:00 am

and observed the empty staging areas as well as the remaining

refugees we had marshalled in the parking lot. In fact,

Ambassador Martin made his surprise appearance in the parking

lot at that time because of his sincere concern that no one

would be left behind. It was he who had directed us to

assemble the remaining evacuees in the parking lot and obtain

a firm head count. In retrospect, I have little doubt that

the Ambassador strained himself almost to the breaking point

in his efforts to fulfill his personal commitment to his

Vietnamese employees. Why then did he suddenly depart and

leave us no choice but to abandon our unfortunate charges?

The answer lies in the presidential order that directed him

to board the helicopter "Lady Ace 09" and depart the Embassy.

That order was based on an inaccurate impression of the situa-

tion at the Embassy -- the apparent result of vague and

confused reporting by persons inside the Embassy building

during the actual helilift operations. Once Ambassador Martin

had departed the Embassy, no one else remained who shared his

firm commitment to a complete evacuation of everyone in the

compound. No one, that is, except Colonel Madison and the

rest of our small group, and we had no way to communicate

with the fleet. (Even if we had established communications,

it is doubtful whether anyone would have believed our situa-

tion report.) We had been victimized by a tragic communica­I

tions bre4kdown,the cost of which was the fate of 420 human

beings.

--------------------------------------------------------------

368

The Navy billeted us in the sick bay of the Okinawa,

where we shared cramped accommodations with several hundred

refugees, most of whom we had rushed onto helicopters only

hours earlier. I spotted several familiar faces and sensed

that we were welcome emong this group of Vietnamese. The

bunks were three tiers high; there was no privacy. On one

side of me, a Vietnamese woman nursed her child, and across the

bay, a gaggle of Vietnamese adults and children were spell-

bound by their first look at color television on the ship's

closed circuit system.

The PA system crackled. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is

Captain Moore speaking. I would like to welcome you aboard

the U.S.S. Okinawa, and assure you that my crew and I will do

everything possible to make your brief stay on the Okinawa

as pleasant as possible under the circumstances. I'm sorry

for the cramped accommodations, but we will do our best to

take care of you."

A hastily recruited interpreter assisted the captain, who

then continued, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have just received

word that the North Vietnamese have entered Saigon. President

Minh has broadcast an appeal to all Republic of Vietnam armed

forces to lay down their arms. I am sorry to bring you this

bad news; but I feel you want to keep track of events as

they occur. We will keep you posted of any further develop­

ments. Only a few of the refugees understood the surrender

bulletin. The interpreter spoke for a moment and told every­

one that the ordeal was finally over.

The Vietnamese wept quietly. Some held one another,

while others tearfully repeated the news to the elderly who

hadn't heard the announcement. Almost all of them had lost

immediate relatives in the panic and confusion of the last

days. A middle-aged woman grabbed my arm. Her husband sat

on a bunk, sobbing uncontrollably. "This is the second time

the US Navy has rescued us from the Communists," she began

in a pronounced North Vietnamese accent. "In 1954, we were

students in Hanoi. When the French withdrew and the Communists

took over, an American ship took us from Haiphong to Saigon.

We took nothing but the shirts on our backs. My husband and

I worked as common laborers at first. We saved our money and

put him through the university. He became alawyer in Saigon.

Now it's all lost. All we have is our clothes, and now we

must again eat the rice of the US Navy~ She broke down as

her husband held up an Air Vietnam shoulder bag the results

of twenty years' work. The sense of pathos and tragedy aboard

370

the Okinawa that morning was overwhelming.

Still angry and frustrated at our role in the abandonment

of the Vietnamese in the Embassy courtyard, Colonel Summers

and I gave an interview to a Scripps~Howard journalist.

Sitting on the edge of our bunks in the sick bay, we des­

cribed how we were promised the helicopters to complete the

evacuation and then ordered to abandon the very people to

whom we had repeatedly promised evacuation. As I described

the last few minutes, tears of shame welled out of my eyes.

371

XXI. WHO LOST VIETNAM?

Americans tend to be poor losers, and this American is

no exception. Several years elapsed before I could look

objectively at the events described in these chapters.

During that time, I wasted considerable emotion in a pOint-

less vendetta to fix the blame for what we had done

as instruments of our Government. It was impossible to

purge my mind of ,that final betrayal in the Embassy court-

yard, We had given our word to those people, just as our

country had pledged to assist their government; and, like

our Government, we had failed to keep a solemn commitment,

I had spent almost four years of my life in an endeavor that

ended in the shabbiest of political sellouts and a humiliat-

ing retreat under fire, and I needed someone to hold respon-

sible for my frustration. Chief among the targets of my

wrath was Henry Kissinger, who, after all, had negotiated

the Paris Agreement that had led us to the roof of the Embassy

and South Vietnam to unconditional surrender and subjugation,

Next came the US Congress, particularly the coalition of

372

liberal "doves" whose hands had thrust the fiscal dagger

into South Vietnam's back. President Thieu appeared high

on my list for his failure to institute domestic reforms

that might have made his government more acceptable to the

Vietnamese and to the American people. Finally, I held

Ambassador Graham Martin responsible for what I perceived

as his contributions to the alienation of both the press and

the Congress and his rigid control over reporting from the

US mission in Saigon. Ironically, I seemed to blame almost

he most ,obv1'ous villains, the North Viet­everyone except t

namese themselves.

As time passed, I began to realize that nothing could be

gained from emotional finger-pointing, and I embarked on a

reassessment of the entire drama. Not surprisingly the main

actors in the drama did not emerge from this inquiry as either

clear-cut heroes or villains. Dr, Kissinger, for example,

grappled with the difficult art of the possible when he nego-

The f lawed results of his efforts tiated the Paris Agreement.

reflected our eternal dilemma in Vietnam -- if the Communists

One can argue ad infinitum whether didn't lose, they won,

. gu1'lty of naivete or cynicism in Paris, Dr, Kiss1nger was

I ' h h t Pres1'dent Nixon and the American but he did accomp 1S w a

373

people demanded of him. I personally do not believe that

he extracted the best possible agreement from the North

Vietnamese,even considering the political constraints of

1972. But, if it is true that the terms of the Paris Agree­

ment were advantageous to Hanoi, it is equally true that

the newly elected US Congress was fully prepared to vote

for a unilateral end to American involvement in Vietnam in

1973. It was frustrating to live in Saigon and observe the

gradual undoing of the South Vietnamese under the aegis of

a stillborn cease-fire, but the congressional alternative

was a unilateral American withdrawal with no cease-fire --

a guaranteed prescription for a South Vietnamese defeat.

Dr. Kissinger's dilemma in Paris was how to reach a negotiat­

ed settlement before Congress served up South Vietnam to

Hanoi on a silver platter. At least, the Paris Agreement

offered a slim possibility for the survival of our ally.

It is considerably more difficult to rationalize the

congressional role in the loss of Vietnam. The reductions in

military assistance dealt a devastating blow to ARVN morale

and operation capabilities and unquestionably contributed to

President Thieu's political bankruptcy. Overt congressional

hostility to South Vietnam most certainly encouraged Hanoi to

pursue final victory with greater confidence. As one commen­

tator aptly observed in December 1974: "For all its political

defects, South Vietnam will not be overcome by political means.

If North Vietnam wins in the end, it will be thanks to its

military strength and, above all, the constancy of its foreign

backers. ,,1 Still, one wonders what would have happened if

Congress had continued to underwrite the South Vietnamese

cause. Even if the Saigon government had been blessed with

adequate aid, how much longer could it have withstood Hanoi's

relentless attacks? My feeling is that North Vietnam had the

capability to outlast Saigon just as it had outlasted Washing­

ton from 1965 to 1972. Hence, as shameful as the abandonment

of our ally was, I believe that continued aid would have merely

delayed the inevitable at a great cost in human lives. Both

militarily and politically, Saigon was on the short end of

a losing equation. Militarily, the war-weary ARVN had to

defend South Vietnam's vast territory and its long lines of

communication against an enemy that could achieve local

superiority at virtually any place of his choosing. Politi­

cally, the leaders in Hanoi had undisputed control of a popu-

lation that believed in a nationalistic cause, whereas

President Thieu's government suffered from internal contra-

375

,

dictions and the traditional distrust of the South Vietnamese

peasantry of any central government.

Presiden t Thieu unquestionably failed his people by his

unwillingness to move forcefully against corruption and by

his ill-timed decision to evacuate the Central High.lands

under North Vietnamese military pressure. Curiously enough,

this latter failure caused most South Vietnamese military

men to turn against Thieu. As one former officer explained

to me, "The idea of red 1 . ep oy~ng our army had merit, but only

if it had been done on our own initiative, not as a reaction

to an NVA offensive. President Thieu's poor timing communi­

cated the wrong message to many of our soldiers and thereby

contributed to the panic." Another former officer's comments

testify to the bitterness that has survived the passage of

time:

You have asked me about Mr. Thieu. At this time four years and a half after the fall of South Vi~t~ nam, we would be wise to forget him. Moreover, I am not really qualified to answer this question. The only thought the Vietnamese had in mind all their life was that Mr. Thieu had been an efficient and obedient collaborator of the US Government, he had done a good job fo r the US and a very poor one for his country and countrymen. He used all means, good and bad, to maintain his throne, with the total support of the US Government, so, as a President, he should recog­nize his responsibility in the loss of South Vietnam and should ~ot blame it on anyone: the American "imperialists"? His collaborators? His soldiers

376

and countrymen? He should remember what happened under his reign, be aware of the misery and humilia­tion that his countrymen, soldiers, comrades and collaborators are suffering under the communist regime; and if he is a man of honor and conscience, having the dignity of a General and Chief of State, he should commit suicide or at least become mad. The Vietnam­ese people don't have any means to remind him about that, and I hope that these lines, written by one of his soldiers, will be printed in your book so that bYzchance, he can have the opportunity to read them.

I am no apologist for President Thieu's performance as

the leader of his people, but I believe the United States over-

reacted to the corruption and the authoritarian character of his

government. Furthermore, I still have difficulty in accepting

the fact that we condemned Thieu and the South Vietnamese for

crimes of which other American allies were guilty. In some

cases, dramatically confirmed by Watergate and subsequent

events, the hand that pointed the accusing finger was not clean.

I recall a front-page editorial in one of Saigon's sixteen

daily newspapers during mid-1974. The writer boldly attacked

President Thieu as a dictator and accused him of denying freedom

of the pressl The story was one of a series in a vitriolic

public debate over Thieu's dictatorial policies, a debate that

could never have transpired if Thieu had been a full-blown

dictator. Political life in Saigon may not have been as

open as ,life in Washington and London,.but it was certainly

377

preferable to Hanoi-style communism. Colonel Harry Summers

said it better than anyone: "If the American people insisted

that South Vietnam be a liberal democracy as a precondition

for aid, then what we should have done was declare a Viet-

namese Magna Charta and wait 750 years. That's how long it

took us." Regrettably, the American people never grasped

the wisdom of these words. In its search for reasons to end

American involvement in an unpopular war, Congress demanded

of the South Vietnamese something that the United States had

been unable to accomplish. South Vietnam thus suffered what

one commentator has called "death by a thousand cuts ... 3 The

citizens of Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) now read only a single,

government-controlled newspaper; Chi Hoa prison is filled with

political prisoners: and corrupt Communist cadre demand $2,000

in gold for an exit visa from Vietnamese who desire to join

their relatives overseas. Ironically, South Vietnam under the

Communists would be fertile hunting ground for the Ramsey

Clarks, the Jane Fondas, and the Bella Abzugs.

Finally, it is difficult to imagine any time in the history

of our country when an American ambassador faced difficulties

of the magnitude inherited by Graham Martin in Saigon. His

was a classic "mission impossible." Tasked to oversee the

378

completion of his country's extrication from Vietnam with

dignity without jeopardizing South Vietnam's security, Am­

bassador Martin did not have the means to accomplish what was

expected of him. Instead, he confronted an increasingly hos­

tile US Congress, a largely cynical press corps, and a dis-

integrating South Vietnamese economy. The South Vietnamese

military faced a determined North Vietnamese Army that had

been given a badly needed breather and the strategic advan-

tage by the imperfect Paris Agreement. Under these circum-

stances, Ambassador Martin's influence on the outcome could

only have been marginal at best. His strident exchanges

with Congress and the press probably did little to help South

Vietnam's cause, but Congress and the media would probably

have seen things no differently had he taken a less dogmatic

stance.

The tight control over public relations exercised by the

Martin Embassy and its sensitivity to any reporting that con­

flicted with the "official" version of events must be seen in

the context of the struggle for continued military assistance

for the South Vietnamese. Support for our efforts in Vietnam

was so shaky in Washington that the Embassy lived in daily

fear of providing the oPPosition (Congress and the liberal press,

379

not the North Vietnamese) with any ammunition that might be

used against its cause. The Embassy thus preferred to for-

ward or release a single, "authoritative" version of the situa­

tion in the belief that multiple interpretations of events

could only work to Saigon's disadvantage by creating confusion

in Washington. I recall one occasion when the Consul General

in Military Region IV severely criticized the DAO Weekly

Wrap-Up report because it had predicted hostilities in an

area where the Embassy's official assessment had forecast no

activity. The thrust of the Consul General's objection was

that such conflicting reporting only created confusion. His

suggestion to resolve the problem was that all future DAO pre­

dictions should be cleared with him to insure accuracy.

This solution would have eliminated the problem of conflict­

ing5sessments, but it would have subjected the conclusions

of a trained intelligence analyst to the veto of a foreign

service officer. It was not implemented, and DAO intelligence

reporting remained independent and uncensored throughout the

cease-fire.

Although the single-minded approach of the Martin Em­

bassy caused some bitterness and controversy, I do not believe

a different atmosphere would have altered the outcome of the

:s80

war. A more disturbing matter, it seems to me, was the

political impasse in Washington and the defensive mentality

in the Saigon Embassy that resulted from this impasse. When

an American Ambassador charged with executing his country's

policy finds himself caught in a cross-fire between the Presi-

dent and the Congress, and Congress holds the trump card in

the form of appropriations, then the policy process has broken

down. One could argue convincingly that South Vietnam was a

victim of the constitutional battle between a resurgent Con-

gress and the "Imperial Presidency."

My experience in Saigon indicated that a serious weakness

of the US mission was its overall failure to understand the

friendly situation. Ironically, we understood the enemy

better than we understood our own ally during the period of

the cease-fire and collapse. An effective military operations

plan must be grounded in a comprehension of both the friendly

and the enemy situation. Our mission in Saigon had a firmer

grasp of North Vietnamese capabilities and intentions than

of the South Vietnamese capacity to sustain the battle. In

describing the state of the South Vietnamese body politic

during this period, General Cao Van Vien used these terms:

Finally, after many years of continuous war, South Vietnam had edged toward political and

economic bankruptcy. National unity no longer existed. No one was able to rally the people behind the national cause, which, because of bad and self­serving leadership, became increasingly dubious. Riddled by corruption, and sometimes ineptitude and dereliction, the government hardly responded to the needs of a public who had gradually lost confi­dence in it. Despite rosy plans and projects, the national economy continued its course down­ward and appeared doomed short of a miracle. Under these conditions, the South Vietnamese social fabric gradually disintegrated, influenced in part by mistrust, divisiveness, uncertainty and defeatism until the whole nation appeared to some to resemble a rotten fruit ready to fall at the first passing breeze. 4

General Vien's blunt assessment of South Vietnamese society

differs substantially from the overly-optimistic views held by

key members of the US mission during 1974 and 1975. Long

after defeatism had infected the ranks of the war-weary

South Vietnamese,our senior analysts failed to recognize

its symptoms. This was one of the major reasons for the wide-

spread surprise at the "sudden disintegration" of the South

* Vietnamese military in 1975.

During the crucial turning point in 1974, the members of

the US mission most sensitive to South Vietnamese vulnera-

bilities tended to be those relatively few people who spoke

*In fact, even though the Communists' assessment of South Vietnamese society was frequently off the mark, it was more accurate than our own by 1974.

Vietnamese and who had served as advisors during the war.

Of more than sixty American military officers in Saigon,

very few spoke any Vietnamese; almost no one was fluent in

the language. And the situation in the Embassy was not

much better. We had trained thousands of Vietnamese lin-

guists during a decade of involvement in Vietnam, many of

whom had served as advisors in the countryside during

the war, yet our personnel systems failed to staff the

US mission with genuine expertise. Many members of the

mission were actually serving their first tour in Vietnam,

but they became "experts" by virtue of their positions.

Among my acquaintances in Saigon were German linguists,

Latin American experts, Indonesian and Arabic specialists,

and Chinese linguists. Few members of our mission had the

background and qualifications to enable them to understand

Vietnam in the way required to serve effectively. (Ambassador

Martin himself had never served in Vietnam; Minister Lehmann

was likewise a newcomer who had spent much of his career in

Europe.) When I conducted a study aimed at reorganizing the

DAO intelligence apparatus for General Smith, one of the senior

civilians in the intelligence branch admitted that none of his

civilian collectors and analysts spoke Vietnamese fluently.

•

"They don't need it," he argued. "We have excellent inter-

preters." Little wonder that we consistently underestimated

the enemy's determination and failed to understand South

Vietnamese society as it sought to cope with the corrosive

internal effects of the insurgency, the assaults of the North

Vietnamese Army, and the damages caused by the "invasion"

of a well-intentioned but clumsy American military. We were

blinded by a near terminal case of linguistic-cultural myopia

that contributed significantly to our difficulties in grasp-

ing the nuances of either the friendly or the enemy situation.

Not surprisingly, the operational concept that flowed from

such a blurred perception was no better than its assumptions.

In the words of one unidentified pundit, "It was easy to see

the light at the end of the tunnel when we were backing into

it."

In spite of our many blunders and inadequacies, the insur-

gency in the south had been crippled by 1972. On e of the

lessons of Vietnam should be that insurgencies can be defeated,

but this truth has been overshadowed by the victory of the

North Vietnamese Army in 1975. In fact, even though the Thieu

government failed to eliminate many of the grievances that

the Vietcong had exploited for years, the pacification program

was remarkably effective in restoring security to much of

the countryside by the time of the American withdrawal.

Ultimately, Hanoi was forced to mount two massive conven-

tional invasions of the south to support the faltering in-

surgents. Convincing evidence of Vietcong weakness by

1975 was the need to establish North Vietnamese '~ilitary

11anagement Committees" to impose martial law on "liberated"

South Vietnam. "Provisional Revolutionary Government" cadre

were simply too few in number to manage the government

bureaucracy. Hanoi was even forced to call upon former

civil servants of the Thieu regime to keep the wheels of

* government turning.

Unfortunately for the South Vietnamese, crippling the

insurgency did not equate to winning the war -- a truth that

has been lost on many an armchair strategist. For this

reason, it has become fashionable to argue that the war was

*If our Vietnam experience proved that insurgencies can be defeated, it also demonstrated that one does not have the luxury of wasting several years in search of the correct combination for victory. For it is true that the elusive nature of the insurgency denied us the quick victory that the American . people require of their military. Since the protracted confl~ct that resulted ultimately led to our withdrawal and the defeat of the South Vietnamese, my North Vietnamese Communist friends would no doubt argue that the insurgency served its function quite effectively.

all but won by 1972. After all, had we not decimated the

insurgency in the south, and was not Hanoi on its knees from

fierce and effective strategic bombing? Proponents of this

theory argue that the United States proceeded to throwaway

its victory at the conference table in Paris. It is a com-

pelling argument -- almost as compelling as the theory that

we could have won the war by 1967 if the United States mili-

tary had been allowed to pursue a strategy of total victory

(usually defined as unrestrained bombing, and denial of sanc-

tuaries, and an Inchon-like invasion of North Vietnam). "If

only the policitians hadn't meddledl" is the watchword of

those who advance this thesis.

Both theories appeal to our national inclination to

assume that American ingenuity can handle any task with suf-

ficient commitment of resources and the time to force reality

to conform to our notions. Neither theory addresses how a

mere military defeat could somehow convince the North Viet-

namese communists to abandon their protracted military-poli-

tical struggle to end foreign influence in Vietnam and to re-

unite its two parts. If we had followed this prescription

for victory (even assuming that the Chinese would have allowed

us to occupy North Vietnam without reacting), what would have

been our strategy after establishing a headquarters in Hanoi?

Presumabl~we would have made some attempt to create a united,

non-communist Vietnam, but what of the deposed Communists?

History suggests that their mostly likely reaction would have

been to repeat the cycle that led to Dien Bien Phu in 1954.

... 11 from sanctuaries in Laos and China,and Operating 1.n1.t1.a y

then expanding into the mountains of the Tay Bac region, the

insurgency would have begun anew its campaign to seize power.

Armed with the legacy of Ho Chi Minh, backed by faithful

allies, and blessed with favorable terrain, would the Commun­

ists have allowed a temporary military defeat to force abandon-

? And, 1.·f confronted with a renewed pro­ment of Ho's dream

tracted conflict, could the United States have avoided the

same kind of domestic discontent that had confronted Mendes

France, Lyndon Johnson, and Richard Nixon?

If we have learned anything from our Vietnam experience,

we should understand that the application of military power

unsupported by adequate political consensus and resolve is

insufficient to insure victory. Our military forces cannot

operate in a political vacuum, for we are a consensus-oriented

society served rather than dominated by our military forces.

The violation of this principle can only lead to the worst

form of pyrrhic victory an army that wins virtually every

military battle only to lose the highly political act that

we call war. Thus, when reminded that his army had not

defeated the United States Army on the battlefield, a North

Vietnamese officer was able to reply, "That may be so, but

it's also irrelevant."

FOOTNOTES

CHAPTER IV

1. Van Tien Dung, "Great Spring Victory," FBSI-APA-76-110, 7 June 1974, Vol IV, No 110, Supplmenet 38, p. 15.

2. Letter dated 19 November 1973. Author's personal papers.

CHAPTER V

1. Frank Snepp, Decent Interval, (New York: Random House, 1977), p. 131.

CHAPTER VI

1. "Restoring Peace in Vietnam," Basic Documents On End­ing The War and Restoring Peace I~ Yietnam, US Information---­Service, 1973, p. 64.

CHAPTER VII

1. Tom Wolfe, Mauve Gloves & Madmen, Clutter & Vine, (Farrar Strauss and Giroux, 1976)~ p. 21 ------

CHAPTER IX

1. Thong Nhat, Number 237, 23 March 1974, p. 5.

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid.

4. Ibid.

CHAPTER X

1. Charles J. Timmes, t1G, "Vietnam Summary: Military Operation After The Cease-Fire Agreement," Military Review, Vol LVI, No.8, August 1976, p. 68.

FOOTNOTES (CONTINUED)

CHAPTER X

2. This account was provided to me by MG Murray in a letter dated 14 liarch 1980.

3. Dung, pp. 1-2.

4. Ibid., p. 5.

5. Ibid.

6. Lawson, Anthony B., "Survey of the Economic Situation of RVNAF Personnel, Phase III, " report by the DAO Special Studies Section, pp. 2-17.

7. Ibid.

8. Ibid-=.., p. 7.

9. Ibid. , p. 3.

10. Ibid. , p. 5.

11. Ibid..

12. Ibid.

13. Ibid. , p. 6.

14. Ibid. , p. 5.

15. Henry Kissinger, White House Years, Little, Brown and Company, (Boston, Toronto, 1979), p. 1462. It is also worthy of note that the Nixon promise was reiterated in writing by President Ford shortly after the Nixon resignation.

16. Dung, p. 5.

17. Ibid., p. 3.

18. Ibid.

390

FOOTNOTES (CONTINUED)

CHAPTER XI

1. Quoted in, "Vietnam: From Cease-Fire to tion," by Col. W. E. Le Gro, p. 128. (Work to be by U.S. Government Printing Office in 1980-1981). permission.

2. New York Times, August 9, 1974, p. 26.

Capitu1a­published

Used with

3. Quoted from a letter dated October 18, 1979 from MG Murray to author.

4. Chicago Daily News, September 17, 1974, p. 4.

5. Dung, p. 3.

CHAPTER XII

1. Le Gro, p. 207.

2. Cao Van Vien, "The Final Collapse," unpublished manu­script, p. 68. (To be published by the US Army Center for Military History.) Quoted with permission.

3. "History, US Delegation, Four Party Joint Military Team: 31 March 1973 - 30 April 1975," p. 17.

4. Much of the account of the Congressional Delegation's encounter with the Communists is taken from the report which I submitted to the Embassy on 4 March detailing the events of the two sessions.

5. "South Vietnam, The Struggle," March 17, 1975, p. 6.

6. Vien, p. 88.

7. Ibid., p. 89.

CHAPTER XIII

1. Le Gro, p. 222.

391

FOOTNOTES (CONTINUED)

CHAPTER XIII

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid. , p. 224.

4. Dung, p. 10.

5. Le Gro, p. 217.

6. Ibid. , p. 224.

7. Dung, pp. 62-63.

CHAPTER XIV

1. Major General Homer D. Smith, "The Final Forty-Five Days of Vietnam," an unpublished paper. Used with MG Smith's permission, p. 10.

2. "Stars and Stripes," 4 April 1975, p. 3. MG Smith points out that Lawson's indictment of Al Francis, the MR-l Consul General, was not completely fair. The general recalls that Francis did "everything possible to get as many folks out as he could. He didn't lose control - the VN public authori­titS did. ff

3. Interview between author and Mr. Lawson, 14 January 1980.

4. "Saigon Post," March 22,1975, p. 1.

5. FBIS, 200424Z, April 1975, p. 3.

6. "Saigon Post," April 3, 1975, p. 3.

CHAPTER XV

1. FBIS, 200825Z April 1975, pp. 1-3.

2. FBIS, 19l546Z April 1975, p. 2. (Emphasis supplied by author).

i ~

t I . , ,

t~ f

.1

FOOTNOTES (CONTINUED)

CHAPTER XV

3. FBIS, 190936Z April 197, p. 2.

4. FBIS, 2l04l4Z April 1975, p. 2.

CHAPTER XVII

1. "Saigon Post," 21 April 1975, p. 1.

2. FBIS, 03l400Z April 1975, p. 3.

3. FBIS, 211220Z April 1975.

4. FBIS, 211400Z April 1975, p. ? .

5. Dung, Volume II, p. 76.

6. Ibid. , p. 77.

7. FPJMT, Memorandum For Record, 27 April 1975, "Saigon­Hanoi Liaison Flight, 25 April 1975, pp. 2-4.

8. Vien, p. 200.

CHAPTER XVIII

1. Smith, p. 6.

CHAPTER XIX

1. Letter from MG Smith to author dated 21 January

1980.

CHAPTER XX

1. "Last Flight From Saigon," Thomas G. Tobin, Lt. Colonel, USAF, Arthur E. Laehr, Lt. Colonel, USAF, John F. Hilgenberg, Lt. Colonel, USAF, USAF Southeast Asia Monograph Series, Volume IV, Monograph 6, p. 106.

FOOTNOTES (CONTINUED)

CHAPTER XXI

1. "The Economist," December 28,1975, p. 11.

2. These words were quoted froQ a letter to the author from a former South Vietnamese field grade officer who prefers to remain anonymous.

3. "The Economist," p. 11.

4. Vien. p. 205.

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