Reflections on April 30, 1975 by Kirk Hazlett
The Air Force C-130 Hercules cargo aircraft took off from Clark Air Base, Republic of the Philippines, in the early morning hours of April 30, 1975, enroute to Tan Son Nhut Air Base on the outskirts of Saigon. It was on a mission for which I had no prior experience to draw on. I sat quietly, wondering just what I had gotten myself into but confident that my choice was the right one.
I was on my way back to Vietnam in the hopes that…somehow…I would be able to make my way to Cholon to find and bring my Chinese wife’s family out of the rapidly-deteriorating environment and to safety ultimately in the United States. The effort was the result of several weeks of coordination both with senior officers at Clark and with my wife’s family. Dozens of quick phone calls gave us the assurance that this effort was somehow possible.
There was little idle conversation on the airplane as we made our way westward. I sat and reflected on my first meeting with my soon-to-be relatives in 1971 and the obvious close bond that my wife had with her family. I was grateful for this chance to help them in their efforts to escape the inevitable downfall of their adopted home country.
Suddenly I was aware of someone standing in front of me…the plane’s pilot. The look on his face told me immediately that something had gone wrong.
He quietly asked, “Sergeant, were you going back to Saigon to get your wife’s family?”
I responded, equally quietly, “Yes, sir, I am.”
His next words are permanently etched into my memory: “I’m sorry. We’re turning back. Saigon has fallen.”
I sat fighting a bout of nausea as the words "Saigon has fallen" sunk in. I thought of my relatives and wondered how this was going to affect them. And I feverishly wracked my brain: “How do I tell Margaret that her family members are now trapped in communist-held Vietnam?”
When we landed back at Clark Air Base, I went to my car and drove for what seemed like a lifetime (we lived off-base…a journey of about two miles in actuality) mentally preparing to deliver the worst news I had ever been forced to deliver.
As I drove slowly into our garage, I saw my wife standing at the door. The look on her face told me she knew.
I got out, rushed to her and held her tight, whispering these words: "I am so sorry."
Two years laters my tour of duty at Clark Air Base was completed, and we returned to the United States and an assignment at Langley Air Force Base in Virginia. We had no way of communicating with Margaret's family, but held on to the optimistic belief that someday, somehow, they would be successful in their attempt to leave Vietnam.
Then, in 1980 we received a collect phone call. My father-in-law was calling, from California, to say that the family had finally been able to escape as refugees and that all were now in the United States…safe…and free.
Editor's note: Kirk Hazlett, a Curry College professor in Boston and consummate public relations professional, contributed recollections from his Vietnam War experience to the blog for "Escape from Saigon - a Novel" set during the final 30 days of the Vietnam War. Dick Pirozzolo
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