Author: woodpainter

Waiting. Not with Beckett. Just waiting.

The phone woke me at 5:00 A.M. Tuesday, April 29, 1975

woodpainter

[Martindale continued]

Tuesday, April 29, 1975

         The phone woke me at 5:00 A.M. but stopped ringing before I could reach it. Outside, it sounded like the all-clear siren was going off. The radio, as had been the case for a week or so, had nothing but music on it. I called Bill Austin and asked if he had called me. He said he had and that I must have been sleeping pretty soundly as there had been a firefight going on since 4:00 A.M. and the west side of Saigon was all lit up by fires. He asked me to come to his apartment in a little while as we were on a sort of semi-alert for bus driving. I shaved, ate a light breakfast and took my packed brief case to Austin’s apartment–all set to go. He had a good view to the West from his apartment all right, and fire was at tree-top level, seemingly only 5 miles or so away. Shelling was going on, and by timing sight and sound of explosions Al Dominguez, who was there also, estimated the shells landing about two miles away. One other man from our building, I don’t remember his name, was with us for a while also. He was with the Mission Warden’s Office and left about 7:00 A.M. to go to work. While he was there we heard bits of news from his walkie-talkie radio. We heard about two Marines being killed in front of the DAO compound and he had already heard about Tan Son Nhut being shelled, and that it was closed.

         I felt better when it became light. We had some coffee and watched planes flying around near Tan Son Nhut. These were almost all small planes. Helicopters were scurrying about not far from our apartment building at 123 Doan Thi Diem, which is pretty close to the Presidential palace. We had been watching a C-119 for about an hour and had figured it must be a South Vietnamese spotter plane. It circled near Tan Son Nhut airport and a bit south, near where the fires were. Then we saw a ball of fire and a plane gradually circling downward. Dominguez got to his movie camera rather quickly and filmed most of it. We weren’t sure it was the C-119, but it appeared that one of the twin booms came off and then the plane just cartwheeled straight down.

         By this time I didn’t think we would be driving busses anywhere. The plan was to follow a Mission Warden escort in a convoy, on  a predetermined route, picking up passengers to take to Tan Son Nhut Airport for air evacuation. And it was to be at night during curfew hours, when there wouldn’t be many people around. Despite a 24-hour curfew, if we were evacuating during daytime there would be a lot of Vietnamese out. Since it was daytime, and Tan Son Nhut airport was closed, I didn’t think we would be going anywhere. One of the scheduled helicopter pick-up points was the roof of our apartment building. While I was in Bill’s apartment, Herb Sultan called to find if we were being evacuated. We had not been alerted yet, although we three potential bus drivers were on stand-by alert. Sultan wanted to know if he could take a suitcase and another bag out with him. Austin told him that we would be restricted to one small bag that would fit under an airplane seat. Sultan kept insisting that he had a lot of important papers. Bill said the instructions he had received read one small bag per person.

         I went back to my apartment. Mai, my cook, came in earlier than usual, at about 7:30 a.m. She had been up since 4:00 a.m. and I had seen her earlier, near the guards downstairs. She was smiling, as usual, and didn’t appear to be scared. I called Bill Rice and told him that I might be going out to drive a bus anytime, as we were on alert. He hadn’t heard anything from his building warden but said he was going to pack a bag. I tried to read a book, but someone was on the phone or at the door every 15 minutes. Likewise when I was dozing off to sleep in my chair, John Henson was locked out of his apartment. His maid had left and locked the front glass door with the keys inside. I let John try my keys, including extras I found in my apartment, on all his locks. John had conjunctivitis and acted as though he were a bit sick. After awhile we broke the glass and I reached inside and unlocked his door. Then later he came down to leave his canary for my cook and said he was being medically evacuated.

         It must have been around 9:00 a.m. that Bill Rice called to say that the Ambassador wasn’t calling for an evacuation but said that anyone who wanted to leave could do so that day, that he thought things would quieten down, and that he thought the Communists were just using pressure tactics. They sure were!! I asked him if any of our people wanted to go and he said that no one had said so. I told him that I would stay also. Meanwhile, Bill Ward had called  and jokingly asked about his curfew pass. I told him that if he wanted it he could come and get it. He called later and said he was leaving. I called Al Dominguez and asked how he would like a bloody Mary. He declined and said he thought that he would be leaving. Sultan also called me and talked about taking baggage out. I told him I wasn’t a warden but I was taking a brief case. I also had a call from Mr. Trong, Director of DGBFA, who was concerned about getting his family out. I told him that we were not even on evacuation alert. He gave me his phone number and said that he had also called Wade Jones.

         I think I could have relaxed if the phone or door bell one wasn’t ringing every 15 minutes. I was pretty wound up so had a bloody Mary (my first) and felt much better. About 10:00 Bill Rice called and said that Paul Kostamo and I were to go to Clark Field, Philippines and stay there in a holding action. In case things got worse we would be out; and if everything were settled so there was no general evacuation we would come back. he was to pick us up and take us to the Embassy for evacuation. My suitcases were all too big so I decided to just take the brief case with a change of underwear, socks, a shirt and papers I wanted to keep. I wore my best remaining suit.

         Bill and Paul came by before 10:30. I told Mai that I expected to be back and to keep everything in order. I had already paid her through May. I said that if everyone left then she could have everything I had left in the apartment. I left the radio, book on the table, a good supply of liquor, golf clubs, Poloroid camera and everything else as it had always been in the apartment. My car was parked downstairs.

         We went by USAID I and parked, while Paul went to get his things from the Guest House. Mr. Ba and Mr. Minh, of dollar accounts, were near the door but no one could get in. They asked if there was an evacuation and we told them that there was not at that time. Bill dropped us off at the Embassy vehicle entrance. Few people were around. We went through the grounds and over to CRA. Men were cutting down shrubbery and even a tree, in back of the Embassy, preparing a helicopter landing area.

         When we went into the CRA restaurant, we were told that a complete evacuation had been called. It was almost 11:00 a.m. There weren’t too many people there at that time but the crowd was building. Paul and I joined others at a table near the entrance and drank a couple of cold beers that were on the table. Pretty soon I saw Kim, one of the Vietnamese waitresses at CRA. She was quite agitated as she didn’t know whether to leave or not. Her mother wouldn’t leave and was sick. Kim’s two older sisters, who were married, were staying but Kim thought she should stay and care for her mother. She took me to the kitchen to meet others of her family who were leaving, two or three brothers and sisters I believe. For a couple of hours Kim kept wringing her hands and I believe finally decided to leave after she had seen her mother again and was told by her to leave.

         The CRA restaurant soon became crowded with Americans, Vietnamese, Koreans, and I don’t know who else. Quite a crowd was building outside near the swimming pool also. Finally a couple of Americans guarded the door to keep more Vietnamese from coming inside the restaurant. We were inside from about 11:00 a.m. until 4:00 p.m. A group of fellows started cooking steaks for everyone that wanted any. There was a large supply of wine which we also sampled. Beer had long since run out. I saw a man who must have weighed 300 pounds, with the largest pile of ice cream I think I have ever seen on a table. That must have kept him busy  for 30 minutes.

         At 4:00 p.m. we went outside where a line was forming around the swimming pool after being funnelled through a gate on the shallow end of the pool. Bill Rice had come back about an hour after dropping off Paul Kostamo and me. After he came in and saw that so many had brought Vietnamese in, he went over to check in the control room about going out to get some of our locals if any were still around USAID I. He was told he shouldn’t leave the compound as he might not be able to get back in. So we had no warning about the evacuation so we could round up some of our key employees, especially the ones whose families had gone on ahead.

         I think the first helicopters came into the Embassy grounds shortly after 4:00 p.m., although at least a couple of smaller ones had been on the roof top earlier. When we got into the line, we were told to take out any guns we might have. Bill Rice gave up a 45 cal. pistol and I donated a 22 cal. pistol. They were both dropped into the swimming pool. During 20 months in Saigon I never did go into that swimming pool, but my gun did. It wasn’t a very good one anyhow.

         The line was funnelled through a gate, and the remaining people were in a mas in front of the CRA patio. The great majority of the hundreds of people there were Vietnamese. A barrier about waist high was placed along the side next to the Embassy compound and behind it was a wall of husky Americans, shoulder to shoulder, to keep back any rush toward the gate to the Embassy. A little later marines manned this line but the crowd was quite orderly.

         Then the helicopters started coming in, some stopping at the Embassy’s two pads, and others going to DAO, 259, 35 A Ben Chuong and possibly other locations. Some of the early helicopters brought in more marines and they were a comforting sight. They looked and acted like they meant business. Most guarded the gate and walks to keep unauthorized Vietnamese from coming in. Everyone that was inside was being taken out on helicopters. No check could be made of personnel. Marines also helped Americans come over the walls. After we had been in line a couple of hours and were wondering where Dick McClure and Clarence Combs were, lo and behold, here came Combs, hobbling and looking like he had been through a wringer, which he had. He had toured the city on a bus driven by Wade Jones, probably my replacement. He had lost his and McClure’s baggage fighting his way through crowds from the Embassy tennis courts, a few blocks to the CRA entrance. Then somehow he made it to the top of the gate, probably at least 20 feet high (Clarence said 30 feet, and he was up there). When he jumped, or was swept over, he suffered two breaks in the instep of each foot (discovered by x-ray on board ship two days later).

         During all this time we could hear shelling or rocketing, and close at home there was small-arms firing. It sounded like shotguns and I guessed that marines or Mission warden personnel were firing over the heads of the crowd outside. Helicopters were all over th skies, coming in and going out. Fighters from the Enterprise were up high, flying cover. And finally we saw some sleek helicopter gunships. The line seemed to move mighty slow. I found later that outside groups. such as families of  National Policemen, got in somehow and were taken out so th evacuation wouldn’t be interfered with by South Vietnamese police and military. I know one time 4 or 5 large helicopters came and went, and no one went through the Embassy gate during that period. I guess we were all a bit tense, hoping that the marines could hold back the crowd outside.

         I was in line a little over 4 hours. A number of us from USAID were more or less in one group. When we neared the gate, we were taken together through the grounds and up the stairs to the roof of the Embassy. The helicopter never cut its engines. We rushed up to last short flight of stairs across the pad and clambered aboard. It was dark on the roof and darker yet inside the helicopter. It held 20 or 22 passengers–a marine helicopter. Two or three passengers hesitated in the darkness as they entered. A marine, who was all business, threw them half the length of the copter onto seats. It wouldn’t have taken two minutes to load. Then we were off and I felt better than I had all day. It was 8:20 p.m.

         On the way out we could see bright fires up north. It looked to be about the distance and direction to Bien Hoa [?]. It was large enough to have been half the city. I had wanted to be evacuated during daylight in order to see what size crowds were outside and to get a final view of the city–also to see how large the Navy force was offshore. It must have been quite large as there were plenty of lights below, all the way to our ship, the USS Midway (an aircraft carrier) which  we reached at 9:30 p.m. After we landed we were moved quickly below where we were given a quick medical check (my blood pressure, normally 120-90, was 160-110) were registered and taken to quarters that had been vacated by sailors. They were air conditioned and quite compact: three tiers of bunks with 48 people in a section. At this time anything looked good to us. I guess we ate at about midnight or 12:30 a.m. I was so tired I washed up but didn’t shower. After I lay down I couldn’t sleep. So I took a shower at about 2:00 a.m. and then was off to sleep. It had been a long day.

Monday, April 28, 1975

woodpainter

[Martindale, continued]

Monday, April 28, 1975

         We proceeded pretty well on schedule and moved out of the bowling alley to an area next to the gym, probably around 4:30 A.M. I should say about one-half of our group did. I had made arrangements with the people at the processing gate to stage our people in this area, in the order that their names appeared on the manifests, so the processing could proceed in an orderly manner. When I notified our people in the bowling alley to get ready to go to the staging area, this excited another group into action. The group scheduled directly ahead of us, unknown to me, was also in the bowling area. They hadn’t been told to get ready and consisted of only about 40 employees of the American radio station. They moved out very quickly into part of our staging area. So I moved only one-half of our people, and left the others in the bowling alley in two groups.

         Our people waited very patiently in the staging area as, first daylight, then sunrise, came. If  I had not already known them, I would have had to admire them then. We had all been up since the early morning before, and God only knows how much sleep they had that night, with the excitement of getting ready to leave their country. But here, as the sun came up, 65 and 70-year-olds seemed to have more energy than I had; and I knew they had sat up all night, seemingly as tense and nervous as could be.

         At this point I should state that, of all the people processed, it seemed that USAID had a very low percentage, considering the number of people in the country from various organizations. That is, other than SAAFO personnel. SAAFO people were a breed apart, and though ordinarily shown as AID personnel, they reported primarily through the Special Assistant to the Ambassador for Field Operations, hence the initials SAAFO. These Vietnamese weren’t even AID employees after June 30, 1974 (although we still paid them and supervised them) but were nominally GVN employees. Vietnamese personnel of DAO contractors, such as P, A and E, were being evacuated. And on the last day a lot of voluntary agency local personnel were evacuated. I don’t know as AID contractors’ local employees were ever evacuated, and a lot of our own direct-hire Vietnamese never got the chance. And so many others were secretly evacuated; supposedly many GVN officials’ families, and those of high ranking military officers had to be, in order for us to be able to safely evacuate our people. I know the night our people were waiting in the bowling alley, at about 10:00 P.M., I saw two U.S. government officials that I knew, who said they had just brought in 600 people. It was so secret they couldn’t tell me who they were. But they didn’t wait anywhere near 16 hours. And the next night they were to send out 600 more.

         At about 6:30 A.M. we were next in line for processing, when a halt was called. I was told that we would hold until 8:00 o’clock, I told our people to relax until 8. Some bought coffee and bread from the soldiers through the adjoining fence. Some of these warriors had been on duty all night, hawking their wares through the fence. They had samples of newspapers, cigarette packages, etc. stuck to the fence. Up until about 2:00 A.M. there was a virtual army of Military moonlighters manning the fences. Come daybreak, there was also an army pushing bread and coffee. I accepted some French bread from some of our people. After a while, shortly before 7:30 A.M., I went to the men’s room in the gymnasium. I came out about 7:30 and found that our people had been called to go in for processing. It didn’t go as smoothly as I thought it would. I had told our people that we would start processing at 8:00 A.M. (as I  had been told). So when I came out, they were not in their proper order, and, at first, there was a bit of confusion. and now there was new Defense Attache Office (DAO) man at the gate, a civilian who had either been a top sergeant or had nurtured delusions of being a top sergeant. His yelling and cursing at the Vietnamese created more disorder. I had designated a Vietnamese to be in charge of each of our four groups. By having each of them line their people up and bringing them into the gate in their regular turn, we finally convinced “Napoleon” that we could organize them better than he could.

         As our 300 some-odd USAID employees were processed through, our 89 Controller Office personnel dwindled to 86. Chi’s mother decided at the last moment that she couldn’t leave her country. And another employee, who was also the second wife of the USAID Director’s driver, tried to get her sister through with her. Her sister was over the age limit of 20 but somehow she had gotten onto a bus. When the count was made at the gate (there they only checked numbers of people) of “employee and one other,” the sister also breezed inn. “Napoleon” was alert enough to count three people when there should have been two, although the employee’s baby was quite small. So she had a choice of going with her baby only or not at all. I guess her sister had been taking care of the baby because the employee elected to stay behind with her baby. I vowed to see that all  three were put on a later manifest, now that I knew how the system worked.

         I followed our employees through the baggage-checking process and the body searching. I wanted to see how the entire operation worked. There was no check on baggage weight, although we had religiously told our people that they would be allowed 20 kilos per adult and 10 kilos for others. And they were well below those limits. Some were apprehensive about the body searching. After being paid accrued leave and severance pay in greenbacks, and being allowed to convert up to $2,000 worth of piasters into U.S. currency (although many would have preferred dollar checks), some employees had a few thousand dollars on their bodies. Some had sold all of their property (houses, automobiles, Hondas, etc.) and had converted the piaster proceeds into gold and jewelry, at unfavorable rates. But even these Vietnamese, or most of them, probably didn’t have as much wealth as the U.S. newspaper reporter, who made headlines by reporting on the wealthy Vietnamese refugees, has just in the equity on his home. They had to carry what they could out with them. Apparently the American guards were concerned primarily about anyone carrying firearms. The solder who checked them was a very personable, outgoing type, who did a great deal to ease the tension among these people who had been waiting in the processing area for more than 16 hours. I saw more smiles in ten minutes there than I had during the entire 16 hours. Of course, they were near the end of the line too. Hien, our ex-receptionist, ex-secretary, was so happy after she got through the metal detector. She said the detector went “rrr, rrr” and the sergeant asked her what she had on her person. She told him she had some jewelry and she was passed on through.

         I wanted to see our people through to the airplane but the sergeants overruled the Navy Lt. Commander, who had given me permission. They cited anti-hijack regulations. So I saw them all aboard the busses  at 9:20 A.M. headed for the airplanes. I don’t think they were delayed further because they had been held up awaiting busses. It seemed a shortage of drivers had developed, as drivers were getting out also. I felt glad for our employees but was very sad, knowing I would probably not see a one of them again. Parting with some close friends such as Hien and Cam Van was especially hard. I was so choked up I couldn’t say goodbye to them as I was turned back at the gate, but could only wave goodbye.

         During my tour through the processing cycle I found that no check was made of the relationship and age requirements when employees and their families boarded the busses. Bus monitors should have made this check but did not have time. And an American couldn’t have made heads or tails of the Vietnamese names, not to mention the second and third wives and their children. The employees could have held to the original number of family members they had reported, and we would never have know the difference. Then when the manifests were turned in, the number of persons listed was allowed to go through the gates. The employee’s name was called plus, say, 4 others. Five people were counted as they went through the gate and were as good as in Guam. We were given the rules and put the fear of God into our employees. And I think we did right; otherwise, fewer of our employees could have gone. But I don’t know how many others did likewise.

         After I saw our people off I went home, took a shower and grabbed two hours of sleep and a snack and then back to the rat race. I found that another list of 120 had been prepared and the people were being processed. Based on our money exchange experience, Bill Rice got permission for USAID to make the  exchange for its employees and to accept piasters, with dollar checks to be sent ot the employees on Guam, or wherever they went. A list of personnel turning in piasters was kept, and I  don’t know whether the employees were given receipts on the spot or not.

         We had the usual rush of employees seeking us out and citing their particular problems. Vietnamese officials sought out anyone they knew in the U.S. Mission for help. Colonel Vuu, a very knowledgeable Accounting major, with an MBA from Syracuse University was getting out of the military on April 30th and was looking for help. Mr. Truong, Director General of DGBFA who had been of so much assistance to us, and had probably done more for the U.S. Government than any of our own employees, was seeking help. He was most vulnerable in case he couldn’t get out. All we could do in such cases was refer these people to the Director’s Office, as we were only authorized to make arrangements for our own people and their families. But these were also good friends and we had to take the time, which we didn’t really have, to talk to them. I don’t know whether Col. Vuu got out or not but I’m pretty sure Mr. Truong did not. But again, I’m not sure, as some of these people surprise you with their ingenuity.

         I was surprised that afternoon to find that Mr. Au  was on the job. I found that he had told Paul Kostamo that his family had gone out in the group that I had shepherded. I told Paul, who was not aware of the case, that Mr. Au must have decided that there was more money around to be stolen. And then I found that he had been helping to count the money that was turned in for payment by dollar checks. I told Bill Rice that he was on the job, so we called him into the office. He told me that his family had gone out, and then we told him that we knew better because Bill Rice was monitor of the bus that his family was supposed to board and that I had stayed with the group all night and had a list of all the people that boarded the plane. We told him that everything would be O.K. if he just brought $2,000 the next day to turn back in. He made some lame excuse about his son being in an accident, but we told him we still expected the money the next day. I bet Bill 1000 piasters that he would never come back to work again. I guess I won the bet because the next morning there was a 24-hour alert and before the day was over we had all left Vietnam.

         I went to CRA to eat but found they were serving only sandwiches. Then I drove to the Guest House in the USAID I compound. While waiting to be served, and while sipping on a cold beer, at about 6:30 P.M. all hell broke loose. That was when the U.S.-built planes hit Tan Son Nhut airport, but we didn’t know that then. We heard all kinds of shooting outside. Our waitress became so agitated that she was literally jumping up and down and running around between tables. We made her go into the kitchen as she was making everyone more edgy and nervous. People were running around out in the lobby and the firing outside sounded as though it was in our compound. I fully expected someone to rush through the door firing a gun at any time.

         In time things quieted down, our waitress reappeared and served us and we left. I took Bill Ward home to 259, and he lent me his curfew pass in case I didn’t make it home before curfew. When I got home I found that a 24-hour curfew was in effect.

         At about 9:00 P.M. I went to Bill Austin’s apartment to see if there was an alert for evacuation. Bill was our building warden. While I was there he received a call from the Mission Warden’s Office wanting three drivers to go to Tan Son Nhut to drive busses back to our apartment. It seemed all the drivers deserted when the shooting started at the Air base. Bill asked me if I was a bus driver, I said I’d never driven one in my life. He told the Mission Warden he had one volunteer right there in his apartment.

         A little later Bill Austin, Al Dominguez and I were taken out to pick up some busses. There were probably 8 or 10 other drivers there also. We picked up the busses in front of  the DAO headquarters where 5 or 6 hours later rockets hit, killing 2 marines and destroying some other vehicles. After learning where the various gears were, I was able to drive alright. I was more afraid of possible trouble from the ARVN or National Police than anything else and at one check point the did come on board and check for passengers. With the tension of driving around during curfew, going through road blocks, etc. I found that my clothes were almost all entirely wet with perspiration when I reached home. I called Jennie in Bangkok before going to bed somewhere around 1:00 A.M.

Sunday, April 27, 1975

woodpainter

[Martindale, continued]

Sunday, April 27, 1975

         On Sunday morning there was a meeting of Americans to learn the rules for taking the USAID people to the evacuation center at Tan Son Nhut airport. I was going to stay with them until they left for the airplane. Bill Rice escorted one bus load to the airport. Ron Pollock had ADFA people; Dr. Bill Oldham was with Public Health and ADLD people; and Bob McCandless escorted ADPROG and ADEPP people. There was a total of 305 people to report to USAID II at 2:00 P.M. Sunday, including 123 from ADFM. We worked in the Office all morning as usual and then met at 2:00 P.M., as scheduled. Only 89 ADFM people boarded the busses. I had been told by a Vietnamese employee that morning that some employees, who had not intended to leave, put their names down so they could convert $2,000 worth of piasters to dollars. I was told of 3 employees in this category: Mr. Au (who had supposedly changed his mind about leaving); Mrs. Kim Hong (dollar accounts); and Miss An (dollar accounts). By turning in 1, 510,000 piasters they could get $2,000 in cash, which they could convert on the black market to 9 million piasters (4,500 to 1). None of the three I had been warned about showed up at the busses. As a result of people not showing up, 30 other people of ours were deprived of the chance of getting out.

         The busses were 30 minutes late. One scene I’ll never forget was that of tall Bill Rice escorting a small old Vietnamese woman with short hair through the gate. She was crying uncontrollably. I asked Bill who he had there and he said “she wants to see her family.” Those not leaving were not supposed to enter the area but it was so heartbreaking to see this little old woman crying that Bill took her in with him. I believe she was Mr. Phuoc’s (analysis branch)_ mother.

         After loading, our bus went to Tan Son Nhut, reaching the processing area at 4:00-4:30 P.M. After loading my bus, one of the men coordinating the loading asked if he could put 4 or 5 more people on our bus. I don’t remember whether he said they were related to Americans, or had American passports, or what, but he gave some such reason. I told him they could board our bus but I wouldn’t put them on my manifest. I didn’t hear any more from him and never saw them.

         On the way to the airport, my bus was the last one in a five-bus convoy and did not have diplomatic license plates. We also lagged a bit behind the others. The National Police had set up two check points just outside the main entrance to Tan Son Nhut. They stopped my bus at each one–the other four busses were not stopped. They seemed to pick out the more prosperous-looking Vietnamese where the husband was within draft age. At the first stop they took Mat’s husband and Mrs. Luong’s husband off. Mat and her husband returned last year from 4 years in American Universities. He was draft-exempted and worked for Esso. Mrs. Luong’s husband worked for NBVN (National Bank). The police pretended to be questioning their draft status and took them back to their jeep. I followed them and asked the name of the top man in the jeep. He got excited and started yelling about Americans, how they were no good and should all get out. As he appeared to be having trouble controlling himself, and had a gun, as soon as I safely could I discreetly high-tailed it back to the bus, an waited for them to leave with their prisoners. In the meantime, Mat and Mrs. Luong were very agitated and were constantly traipsing between the bus and the jeep. To my surprise, a few minutes later the two men came back to the bus. Later that night Mr. Luong told me that the three National Police in the jeep were: (1) the driver; (2) the boss, who was yelling; and (3) another man who was sweet-talking them into parting with some gold.

         About 50 yards up the road we were stopped again by more National Police. This time they got Chi’s husband (Chi and her husband also had returned last August from four years in American Universities); Mr. Phuoc (analysis branch); and again Mrs. Luong’s husband and son. They thought the son was 17 years old but, as shown on his papers, he will be 17 in September. They had to send for another boss to figure out his age. At this point I was so disgusted I made a few intemperate remarks to all and sundry on the buss to the effect that they should consider themselves very fortunate to be getting out of a country run by such as these and that I regretted very much that we had spent millions of dollars training the National Police, who apparently were devoted primarily to stealing from their own people but still hadn’t even learned to add. They all seemed to agree. But I didn’t make the mistake of antagonizing the police again. I even gave the chief a cigar and we were finally on our way. That night I learned that it had cost Chi and Mat 100,000 piasters worth, or one million piasters worth, of gold (after the last week’s happenings I just don’t remember which, although I believe it was the lesser amount) and Mrs. Luong’s family twice as much. At the last exchange rate of 755 to 1, that would be $130 (or $1,300) for Chi and Mat, and twice as much for Mrs. Luong. I don’t think Phuoc had to pay, whether because his family knew President Huong I don’t know. The next day after a SAAFO man had heard about this incident, and called me, he was furious because he said the National Police had been paid off, beforehand, to avoid this happening at those check points.

         Our people were sent to the bowling alley to wait. Our 300, plus baggage, took up 3 lanes, so there were at least 1000 people there. The air conditioners were working but it was still hot, and the bright lights blazed away all night. I went over to the gymnasium to register and it took two hours to get registered on the flight schedule. We figured that if the boarding continued at the recent pace, our people would leave the bowling alley at about 4:00 A.M. and be processed for boarding at 6:00 A.M.

         When I went into the gymnasium, I found that Miss Nhe, one of our single cashiers who wanted to go out first at any cost had beat me there. One of the Americans, who was working there, took me aside and told me that Miss Nhe’s roommate was his best friend, and asked if I would put her on my manifest. I told him that I couldn’t and gave the excuse that a lot of people knew the number and names of those on my manifest.

Sunday, April 26, 1975

woodpainter

[Martindale, continued]

Saturday, April 26, 1975

         On Saturday our 5 Americans got together and started getting names of people to evacuate. As different crises came up, people left to handle them. I was finally working alone, which was actually faster even though I was continually diverted. We told our employees that if ineligible people were included, such as overage children, we had been told that the entire family would not be allowed to leave. As a result, when making up the list on Saturday,  I found that families were much smaller than had been indicated. Mr. Huu’s small children, brothers and sisters, it turned out, were all over 20 years old. He was really crying when he admitted it, but probably only because they couldn’t go. A lady employee had listed a 53 year old brother. What started out as more than 120 watered down to less than 90. Then I took more names and finally ended up with 123. We found late Saturday that this group would not leave until the next day. We told the employees to convert money if they wished and to alert their families.

Monday, April 21 through Friday, April 25

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[Martindale continued]

Monday, April 21 through Friday, April 25

         Starting Monday morning every day was hectic, especially with our reduced American staff. To take Mary Viszneki’s place as secretary was Hiem (Miss) who had been our receptionist. As Chuck Yeomans had left his secretary, Miss Thao, didn’t know what her job would be. She was happy to become receptionist. We still had our entire Vietnamese staff of about 90 and continued some operations just to keep them all busy. Some of us were wondering, out loud, why we couldn’t start evacuating some locals, even if it proved to be temporary. Probably arrangements hadn’t been made with the Government to let them leave without passports. We had too many to operate efficiently with our small American staff but we weren’t about to put anyone out of a job at this time. And we were spread quite thin for supervision. McClure headed our Local Currency Branch, Analysis Branch and whatever could be done in Budget. Clarence Combs headed Dollar Accounting. Paul Kostamo was in charge of the Voucher Examination Branch and the Cashier, Claims and Payroll Branch. Bill Rice and I supervised overall but, due to the shortage of personnel, we worked in any branch that had a most urgent crisis. For instance, Kostamo might be tied up in a Cashier crisis when I got something concerning a voucher payment. I would take it to a local in Voucher Examination Branch to get it done. That works alright when you have a few pretty good key locals. We were down to where we could supervise, and nothing more–too much was going on and we had too few Americans. No time left to plan an orderly closing of the Mission. Contractors had to be paid off as of yesterday to avoid rioting by their employees, USAID and SAAFO employees were in town from Regions I and II, and everyone had problems. Anytime you left your office, someone was waiting to stop you. Usually it was something you could do nothing about and, more often than not, something that you did not even know about. You could only sympathize and truthfully say you did not know, or had no authority to do anything. Of course, it was difficult to do any work under these conditions. Late in the week, I had to close my office door to do the most urgent work and even, in a couple of cases, to lock the door. Many people, including some of our local employees, were becoming frantic. The 8:00 P.M. curfew meant the restaurants, including the Guest House and CRA (Combined Recreation Association), closed at 7:00 P.M. Since you had to stay at home for several hours you wanted to eat out, usually with co-workers discussing the day’s events. Besides we didn’t have time to go to the Commissary or PX to get food, although our cooks could get things in the local market. But after going to work at 7:00 A.M. and working through lunch, with everything a crisis, I craved a couple of martinis and something to eat in peace, especially the martinis. And the CRA served good martinis. Then after going home and reading the paper, I soon went to sleep. I was quite tired every night and slept well.

         I was Charlie Brooks’ agent after he left on Friday, April 18th, with only a few hours notice. I did take an hour and a half on April 21st to let his cook into his apartment to clean out all the food. And he seemed to have enough for a family of six. At that time I thought to myself that there wouldn’t be a food shortage in Saigon for a long time as Americans’ food supplies were just entering the market. Then another day at noon I packed his air freight and intended to take it (about 130 or 140 pounds) to Shipping, after I got a copy of his orders from Personnel Office. I never had the time.

         Before Chuck Yeomans left, he handled his air freight and packed his household effects. They just had to be picked up and he had made an appointment for Marion Patten’s crew to put them into a lift van at 4:00 P.M. Monday. At noon, Monday, I saw Pat and he was running behind schedule but would phone me. By Wednesday, as I hadn’t received a call, I called him and he set the time for 4:00 P.M. that day. Then he called and said he would meet me at Yeomans’ apartment a little before 4:00. I planned to leave the office at 3:30 P.M. But five minutes before that time something came up that I couldn’t avoid. So I sent Mr. Rice’s driver, Tien, to the apartment at 196 Hong Thap Tu [?] with the keys to Yeomans’ apartment (Clarence Combs had since moved into it) and his packing list.

         What had come up was that we were authorized to tell all of our locals that they were to be evacuated if they wanted and could be accompanied by their spouses, both sets of parents, sons under 17 years of age, daughters under 21 (both only if unmarried) and unmarried brothers and sisters of the employees and their spouses in the same age brackets as their children. They were to let us know the next morning if they wanted to be evacuated and the numbers of family members to accompany. We tried to warn them that some of them might be better off by staying and they should seriously consider this decision. From this point on my time was primarily spent on this, at least whenever I could break away from other distractions.

         I believe it was about this time, maybe even on Monday or Tuesday, that the locals were paid all accumulated leave, severance pay, tet bonus, etc., in dollars (not by check). On Thursday, after we got the information from employees on numbers to be evacuated, we told them that those employees to be evacuated could exchange up to $2,000 worth of piasters with the Disbursing Office (USDO) and be paid by a dollar check. We also asked certain key employees to stay on and help us to continue operating. We told them that their families would be evacuated first and the employees would be evacuated when we were. Most wanted to go as soon as possible. Some of our top employees such as Mr. Ba, the two Mr. Minhs, Mr. Luat and Mr. Tiep agreed to stay. Even they had reservations, some even mentioning Nha Trang where all Americans got out, leaving some Vietnamese employees behind. We told them that if they sent their families on ahead, they could wait in Guam and then the employees would go out with the last of us–that it would be easier at that time without their families.

         In CCP Mr. Minh would send his family ahead and he could handle payrolls. Mr. Au and his family were not leaving, so he could handle claims and supervise the cashiers. We had 4 or 5 cashiers from Saigon, most of them single, two others who had come down from Danang, and one from Nha Trang. We told them it was imperative that we retain at least two cashiers, and hopefully three. No one volunteered and finally only the two from Danang agreed to stay, one of whom was married, with a family, and who had lost relatives in the fighting for Danang. However, she did keep her family with her. Miss Minh, the CCP secretary, said she wanted to go, along with her family, as she had a fiance in West Germany. I was a bit disgusted with the group in CCP and let them know it.

         Mr. Huu, who was now the highest ranking employee in Voucher Examination (VEB [?]), was needed but he asked to leave. After he explained with tears in his eyes, that he had no family except for 3 children and 3 brothers and sisters, all within the authorized age limits, he had to go with them to take care of them. I agreed and said it was better he went than to let those little kids go on ahead.

         On Friday the Embassy found that the mob scene for converting piasters at the USDO was unmanageable, so then only those in the process of leaving could convert. Roy Young told me that Lovie Davis, Personnel, or I should give him a note, authorizing those leaving to convert. On the first day, I sent him lists of ADFM people, but on later days it all funnelled through Lovie Davis. They were also getting dollars, not checks.

         Friday night, families of key employees, and Mrs. Combs, met at an assembly area (USAID II) at 6:30. At Tan Son Nhut airport they waited in an old barracks area and did not leave until 1:00 A.M. Sunday (over 30 hours of waiting).

         Late Friday we were told we could evacuate 120 people, including family members, from ADFM the next day.

Saturday Night, April 19

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[Martindale, continued]

Saturday Night, April 19

         We had a small get-together for drinks and food at Bill Rice’s apartment, starting at 5:00 P.M. due to the 8:00 P.M. curfew. Dave Lockhart brought letters, addressed to various Americans, from either the Director or the Ambassador. Rice left and delivered those addressed to Americans in Financial ManagementOffice (ADFM). These were to all remaining Americans in ADFM, except the 5 who were to remain (Rice, Martindale, Kostamo, Combs and McClure). All, except for Phil Radcliffe had been notified already, and were planning to leave soon anyway. This letter was notifying them to leave by Tuesday, April 22nd.

         Yeomansleft on Sunday, Mary Viszneki on Monday, Carbonel on Wednesday. Jack Murphy wasdue to leave Saturday, then Sunday, but I don’t believe he left before Monday.Phil Radcliffe and his wife, Richie (Ambassador Martin’s wife’s socialsecretary), left Thursday, April 24th. We had been reduced from 18 to 5Americans in about two weeks.

Martindale, Short Intro

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Thomas Kinton Martindale (1921-2000) was born in Tennessee. He flew “The Hump” in the Army Air Corps during WWII. The GI Bill helped put him through the University of Michigan and there he took a bachelor’s and master’s in accounting and secured his CPA. After some accounting jobs in the mid-west, he joined the U.S. State Department’s Agency for International Development (USAID) where he worked until retirement. He was controller in the mission in Saigon and was there as South Vietnam collapsed under the advance of the North. Martindale remained in Saigon until the last day and participated in evacuation efforts.

In following posts, I will transcribe notes about the final days, notes that he wrote for his family, notes that are now archived and of interest to more than his family alone.