[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.
