Pessimism descends like a monsoon rain
The first chapter of the final months in Saigon
As we’ve already heard from two other authors, Carl Robinson and Karen Kaiser, January was a difficult month in Saigon in 1975. This chapter, January 1975, is excerpted from my 2023 publication, For the Love of Vietnam: a war, a family, a CIA official, and the best evacuation story never heard.
It’s a blend of the personal experiences of my family and the historical circumstances of the time and this passage might be found quite similar to the two recent posts about this same month but for the parasailing at the beginning and the optimistic purchase of a washer-dryer set at the end.
Chapter: January 1975
While the Phuoc Long fight was being waged and lost, our family was still on vacation in Thailand, for that “much-needed” holiday at the sea’s edge. The only near-death experiences there were when the older boys got to go parasailing and Mike descended too quickly and got dunked in the warm waters and Chris went too far, scraping the fluttering edges of the palm trees on the descent.
Like a parasailer just skimming the trees, the U.S. Embassy in Saigon considered the loss of Phuoc Long to be a near miss and nothing of consequence. So it was that we were allowed to return to Saigon when our vacation ended in early January 1975. Ultimately, despite the heightened military action by the North, U.S. Ambassador Graham Martin wanted everyone, both in Vietnam and in D.C., to believe that things were not as bad as they seemed.
Conversely, CIA Station Chief Tom Polgar was beginning to send mixed messages to Washington that were couched in terms of Armageddon. Both “spins” were meant to convince policymakers that Vietnam was deserving of attention and support.
One message was a reassurance that all was well while the other was a bugling call to immediate action. The emotionally laden but contradictory messages began to wear down any meager support that had been lingering.
The Ford administration still publicly held to its position that America had a moral responsibility to South Vietnam, but Congress was questioning what a few hundred million dollars in funds could do in a vacuum when billions had not made a difference when Vietnam had been fully staffed by American forces.
The scales were beginning to fall from South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu’s eyes: he could not ignore the fact that the capture of Phuoc Long had not inspired any U.S. response. Neither Martin’s reassurances nor Polgar’s dire warnings were gaining any traction where it counted, and he could not shake the feeling that there would be no return from the disintegrating path he found himself on.
Even those most strategically poised to bolster aid were unresponsive. On January 7th, shortly after the siege at Phuoc Long, Kissinger called an emergency meeting of his crisis management team. It was there that CIA Director William Colby reminded everyone that the National Intelligence Estimate had ruled out a general offensive in 1975 and therefore there was no further call to action. He would later admit that it was he who had set the upbeat tone of the military activity forecast.
“Yes,” he said sadly, “I was responsible for the judgment that nothing significant would happen until 1976.”
These mixed messages filtered down into our daily lives. Upon returning from our holiday, we found out that two CIA men had been killed in Saigon, one by a mine in his house and another aboard a plane—way too close for comfort.
We could not help but reflect that the VC knew where we lived. Pessimism was descending on the population of Saigon like a monsoon rain cloud, the years of lies and fabrications making it hard to see what was real, and to know what to believe. The streets were filling with refugees including many orphans, and food prices were skyrocketing. Desperation was beginning to tinge every aspect of daily life.
In the midst of all that, my mother clung to one bright development. “I am obviously optimistic. The PX just got in washers and dryers, and we bought a set today. I’ve had enough of these smelly mildewed clothes . . .”
Excerpt taken from the 2023 publication of For the Love of Vietnam: a war, a family, a CIA official, and the best evacuation story never heard.
Click here if you would like to see a full synopsis and how I tell the distinctly different stories of :
how my father ended up in Vietnam running a propaganda radio station beginning in 1972,
our family life blended with historical context from July 1974-April 1975, and
the incredible evacuation of 1000 South Vietnamese that my father orchestrated in late April 1975.
I hope you enjoy this glimpse of history—if you do, please leave a comment so I know!
If you already have a copy, consider buying one for a local library or high school teacher! The more people who are thinking about the 50-year anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War, the better.
beautiful as always!
What a scary time for all involved. Thanks for sharing these wrenching chapters, Kat.