Earlier this year I was surprised and delighted to be contacted by the man who had delivered a contingent of Nung Guards to Phu Quoc Island where my father was stating his evacuation of 1000 South Vietnamese at the end of the Vietnam War.
David W Polomski was stationed at the US Embassy in the USAF Security Police Detachment and worked as a civilian in the CIA in Saigon, South Vietnam, from 1972 to 1975.
When he traveled to Phu Quoc in April of 1975, he didn’t cross paths with my father, though he did visit the military complex where “Camp Seven” had been established.
Sometimes I wonder if he may have unknowingly crossed paths with my mother during our 10-month stay in Vietnam. She was similar to David in that she volunteered frequently to help the many orphans in Saigon in the early ‘70s.
I’m grateful for David’s story, generously offered here, for it highlights the hardships of a small group of people who were deeply impacted by the many travesties of the Vietnam Era.
The Forgotten Side of the Vietnam War
by David Polomski, ©2024
I remember a particular experience that changed my views on the war effort to a more of a human tragedy, a consequence of the war. It was discovering the fact of the “Innocent Orphans” who were abandoned in many ways by both the Americans and Vietnamese.
On an evening in November 1972, I met an American woman near the entrance to my apartment house. We shook hands and introduced each other. Her name was Christine. She, another American, and two women from Australia were the staff of an orphanage.
On a tour of the orphanage, an old French colonial villa with a courtyard surrounded by a high wall with a courtyard, Christine introduced me to the other staff and gave me an excellent opportunity to see everything about the place.
There were approximately 160 children there, most of whom were Amerasian (Half American and half Vietnamese). The ages of the children ranged from infants to teenagers. I spent a good deal of time talking with the staff and taking inventory of the conditions of the building and the children. The orphanage was okay, but I knew they also needed assistance. The number of orphans and their budget was staggering.
After my visit, I returned to the apartment building. I shared it with 12 USAF Security Police and the US Embassy Detachment. At dinner that night, I asked the guys if they knew what was next door to us. One member said, “They have a lot of kids running around!” So, I told them about the orphanage and the staff. After dinner, we all returned to the orphanage and met our newfound friends. The detachment members took to the kids and staff with enthusiasm.
After our visit, we devised a game plan to improve our relationship and get help to enhance their facility. I met with our security police squadron commander, LTC Luckett about getting some help from the units at Tan Son Nhut airbase. He was successful. A group of engineers came and put new screens on the windows, fixed the ceiling fans, and repaired the electrical issues. I knew some doctors from the 377th USAF dispensary, and they came to the orphanage, looked at the children, and returned with some badly needed medications and medical supplies. I also contacted the embassy logistics and supply people, and they donated a couple of refrigerators.
In a month, the orphanage was in good shape and our relationship continued to grow. Christmas 1972 was a significant time for “All of Us.” We cut the top off the pine tree in front of our apartment. We made a tree stand, took it over to the orphanage, put the lights on, put ornaments on, and “Bring on Christmas!” The older kids made a garland from colored paper and strung it around the tree.
I will never forget the first night we lit the tree; it was very dark. Then we lit the tree!! I will never forget the faces of the kids, young and old. When I think about it today, I get emotional. Well, you all know what comes next. The “MAN WITH THE BAG,” Santa Claus, arrived at the orphanage with ice cream, candy, and other gifts. We all had a great time.
In January 1973, the American War was over after the ceasefire and Paris Accords. All American military personnel would leave Vietnam by March 29, 1973. We continued to get supplies from the USAF units for the orphanage, including medical storage cabinets. I had less than six months until my USAF enlistment was over. I was offered a job at the embassy if I could get an early out. I got out on March 10, 1973. So, at the end of March, the military apartment house closed.
On the last day in March, that was the last time I saw Christine and the staff at the orphanage. I had never stopped by the orphanage during my stay in Saigon until April 1975. This is something I regret.
From March 1973 to April 1975, I worked as a “civilian” CIA employee at the US Embassy in Saigon. My job kept me busy, but I still loved Vietnam. These were so-called “Peaceful Times” in South Vietnam. In January 1975, I was unprepared for what was about to unfold.
In March 1975, South Vietnam was crumbling. Town after town, province by province, by the end of March, Da Nang, the second largest city in South Vietnam, fell to the communists. The South Vietnamese Army (AVRN) was in a rout. Desperation, fear, and panic were fanning the country.
President Gerald Ford of the United States ordered the evacuation of Vietnamese orphans from Saigon in the face of a massive North Vietnamese invasion. Operation Babylift was slated to begin on April 4, 1975, and more than 3,000 orphans were to be evacuated by the end of the month.
I was at the Defense Attache Office (DAO) compound evacuation at noon on April 4, 1975, where I met Christine from the orphanage in Saigon. I had not seen her in years. I was happy to see her again and happy that the kids would be evacuated. We talked briefly, but she had to prepare for the flight.
I left the DAO Evacuation Center around 1 p.m. and returned to my office. At around 5 p.m. that afternoon, I received a radio call that a USAF C-5 that left Saigon at 4 p.m. had an “In-Air Emergency.” I raced out to the Air America Terminal at Tan Son Nhut, only to find out that the plane crashed one mile from the runway. My co-worker, John Roberts, was already at the crash site, and some of the helicopters were bringing in casualties.
I unloaded four helicopters to the awaiting ambulances and left for the crash site on a helicopter. It was a very somber and chaotic scene, the scene of a horrible plane crash movie, the victims, the living, the dead but it wasn’t a movie, it was real.
I made my way through the mud, smoke, and sounds of agony. I found John, covered head to toe in blood and dirt. To make matters worse, it was getting dark, and we were receiving small arms fire. Thank God a South Vietnamese Army helicopter took care of that. John and I made three additional trips back and forth to the crash site.
I went to the Seventh Day Adventist hospital and entered the emergency room, looking around at the “shell-shocked” group that had assembled.
And there was Christine, bloody and muddy. I gave her a big hug!
We did not say anything at first. Christine told me her story and the stories of those she knew that were gone. I offered her a stay at our house, but she declined and wanted to stay with the surviving group. Christine left the next day and I threw away my muddy shoes, socks, and clothes I’d worn during the rescue.
The small but heroic efforts by the Air American pilots, Seventh Day Adventist Hospital staff, and a group of unknown Americans who rallied and did what they could in extreme conditions should be noted.
In the days after the crash, I relived the horror of the crash scene. I would be further challenged by the next few weeks in Saigon.
In Memory:
Children lost – 180-200?
Defense Attache Office (DAO) - 35 Lost – 1 Survived
Unknown Nurses – Escort – Orphanage Staff - 200 Lost- 10 Survived
I read this poem by Duong Cang Son after the fall of South Vietnam.
"I don't want my memories to be lost, like tears in the rain.
So, I will tell you my story.
Then you can tell it to others.
Maybe if enough people knew what happened in Vietnam, my memories would never be lost, and maybe they would be like the tears before the rain.
So, listen.
This is very important.
This is what I remember.
This is what happened to me.
These are my tears before the rain."
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David served in the US Air Force as a Sergeant from September 1969 until April 1971, when he chose to stay in Saigon and serve in the USAF/US Embassy Saigon security detachment. After the war, he served as a Major in the US Army from September 1980- September 1999. After that, he participated in various challenging assignments in the US and Europe.
He is now retired, living on the East Coast, and working on a memoir of his time in Vietnam: From Participant to Spectator.
To contact him, reply to this email and I will share your message with him.
The crazy overlap of your story with this story - it is awful and awe-ful. You are all so connected
Thank you for sharing this story, which is part of our life experience too. Very powerful, and brought back many memories. Love the fact that some of the survivors have stayed in touch.