SSgt Air National Guard 1981-1987
My uncle had been stationed at (NKP) Nakhon Phanom Royal Thai Navy Base and he was tasked to take over as Supervisor of Airlift at Tan Son Nhut Air Base in light of the increased tempo of the airlift operations and the possibility of Saigon being overrun by the North Vietnamese Army. He personally facilitated the flight out for the President of South Vietnam and his family. We also learned my Uncle had been awarded a medal for his work there. Among other things he ran onto a bombed and burning aircraft, under fire, to make sure everyone got out safely.
On April 29th 1975, a C-130E [#72-1297], flown by a crew from the 776th Tactical Airlift Squadron, was destroyed by a 122 mm rocket while taxiing to pick up refugees after offloading a BLU-82 at Tan Son Nhut Air Base. Col. Michler ran into the burning C-130 helping the crew to evacuate the aircraft and then directed them to depart the airfield on another C-130 that had previously landed. This was the last USAF fixed-wing aircraft to leave Tan Son Nhut, prompting Col. Michler to convey to the Seventh Air Force and Ambassador Martin that the airport was unusable, thus triggering the final phase of the evacuation of Saigon known as “Operation Frequent Wind”.
The following is an excerpt from an article in which the author (Lt. Col. John L. Hilgenberg) while describing events, quotes part of my Uncle’s reporting that describes ending operations at the Airport and highlights the actions of one of his officers.
(From USAF Southeast Asia Monograph Series Vol. IV Monograph 6 Last Flight from Saigon …page 80)
A second rocket hit about 100 yards away across from the Dodge City billeting, injuring two evacuees sleeping on the grass. These two were treated by the Army medics and one civilian doctor working in the gym dispensary. Another hit across the road in the Air America parking area, destroying several aircraft contemplated for use in the evacuation. Maj. Dellegatti of the SOA, who was enroute back to Tiger Ops, had spoken briefly to the Marine guards only five seconds before the impact killed them. These two were the only known U.S. citizens killed on Vietnamese soil during the entire evacuation. Two Marine helicopter pilots perished in a helicopter ditching at sea.
The latter was Dr. Jim Mayers from Hawaii who originally came into Vietnam to assist in evacuating orphans, then stayed on to help in the big evacuation. He was the only doctor readily available in the EPC and performed in outstanding fashion. Several of the pictures in the back were taken by Dr. Mayers and given to the Air Force for historical purposes.
From 0430 till the final lift-off the next morning more than 24 hours later, a multitude of things happened, many of them simultaneously. A chronological organization will be used hereafter. The rockets and what sounded like heavy artillery continued throughout the day with the greatest concentration of 40 rounds per hour between 0430 and 0800. Following the initial barrage, which seemed to hit indiscriminately in and around the Tan Son Nhut area, the rocket fire became more and more concentrated on the flight line and fuel and ammo storage areas. In fact, after about 0430, no one remembered any more rockets hitting the Defense Attache Office Compound or Annex.
In the EPC, our first action was to get the crowds down and under cover, yet to remain organized in groups for rapid movement. Not surprisingly, the VN’s knew exactly what to do to protect themselves from the rockets, but once the attack subsided, they grew progressively more difficult to control. Here is where the USAF Security Police and several assigned Marines were invaluable. As I observed throughout the evacuation, reaffirmed later in the day, an American in uniform was a powerful, reassuring control force, much more effective than an American in Civilian clothes, even one who could speak the language of the evacuees.
On the flight line near Tiger Ops, the Supervisor of Airlift group and members of the Combat Control Team began investigating and reporting on the condition of the airfield. This action was extremely hazardous as rocket impacts were now concentrated there. Col. Earl Michler, USAF, was serving as Supervisor of Airlift at Flying Tiger Operations on the flight line when the rocket attack started and directed initial reporting. He described the action of one man in particular, Capt. Bill O’Brien, USAF, on temporary duty to Saigon from the Clark AB Aerial Port:
“When the bad guys started shooting at us, Bill was least impressed–that is to say it was obvious he had been there before. Whenever we needed to know the status of the airfield, runways, taxiways, etc., it was always “Obie” who went out to check. There were several times when leaving the doubtful sanctuary of a building was not easy, but he went, usually without my asking. If we had a decision to make about whether or not to continue operations, he just accepted the fact that we needed to check, put on his hat and did it. During those final hours, Bill was, with the radios in his jeep, our only real contact with what was happening on the flight line. He was right in the middle of the chaotic mess and stayed there calmly reporting conditions until I ordered him out.
When I finally told Bill to get out, all hope of continuing airlift was gone and he was under fire not only from rockets and artillery, but was surrounded by the wild, uncontrolled melee on the ramp – Vietnamese were running around looking for a reason to shoot someone. Bill came out very slowly, moved all the way over to the tower to pick up one of his enlisted types in place there, then back to Flying Tiger Ops to meet with the rest of our people.
Launched in September 1971, the destroyer escort USS Kirk (FF-1087), with a compliment of 18 Officers and 267 Enlisted, sailed the high seas of the Indian Ocean, South America and much of the Pacific Ocean, including the waters off Vietnam.
She was a warship in every sense: an efficient, deadly fighting machine with the mission of hunting down, pursuing and destroying her submarine prey. Yet her finest hours were spent tending pregnant women, soothing terrified little children, and saving the lives of tens of thousands. This is the incredible story of a brief episode in the early years of the long life of USS Kirk.
Decades of American involvement in South Vietnam came to an end on April 30, 1975 when North Vietnamese troops entered the deserted streets of Saigon on foot, trucks and fighting vehicles. North Vietnamese tanks crashed through the gates of the presidential palace and soldiers hoisted the yellow and red flag of the Viet Cong.
Just hours before the fall of the Saigon almost all American civilian and military personnel in Saigon were evacuated, along with tens of thousands of South Vietnamese likely to punishment, perhaps even death, for working with the Americans, and flown on Marine helicopters to U.S. Navy aircraft carriers waiting off the coast.
The Vietnam War was officially over. Now those Navy ships were steaming away from Vietnam-with one exception.
That night Commander Paul Jacobs, the captain of the USS Kirk, got a mysterious order to head back to Vietnam from the commander of the evacuation mission – Operation Frequent Wind (the final phase in the evacuation of American civilians and “at-risk” Vietnamese). Adm. Donald Whitmire told Jacobs to go back to rescue the Vietnamese Navy since most of them will probably be killed if they didn’t. And there was one more thing, the admiral told Jacobs: He’d be taking orders from a civilian.
Thirty year old Richard Armitage came aboard the Kirk late at night and met with Jacobs and Commodore Donald Roane, commander of the flotilla of Navy destroyers in the officer’s mess. He told the two officers they were ordered to Con Son Island, about 50 miles off the coast of South Vietnam and not yet occupied by the North Vietnamese. Con Son was the site of a notorious prison. Now, its harbors were the hiding place for the remnants of the South Vietnamese Navy.
Armitage, a U.S. Defense Attaché in Saigon and former Naval Officer, felt the U.S. had sold out the South Vietnamese so he didn’t tell his bosses at the Pentagon there would be refugees on those ships. He feared the American authorities wouldn’t want them.
The Kirk steamed through the night to Con Son, reaching the island just as the sun came up on May 1. There were 30 South Vietnamese navy ships, and dozens of fishing boats and cargo ships. All of them were packed with refugees, desperate to get out of Vietnam. There was no exact count of how many people were on those ships. Some historical records say there were 20,000 people. Other records suggest it was as many as 30,000.
The Kirk sent its engineers to some of the boats and after fixing what could be fixed on the seaworthy vessels and transferring people from the ships that would be left behind.
The Kirk led the flotilla of naval ships, fishing boats and cargo ships toward the Philippines. Another destroyer escort, the USS Cook, helped out as the ships were leaving Con Son.
As the flotilla headed out to sea on the way to the Philippines, other Navy ships came in and out of the escort. Among those other ships were the USS Mobile, USS Tuscaloosa, USS Barbour County, USS Deliver and USS Abnaki. But it’s clear from the daily logs from the Kirk and the other ships that the crew of the Kirk took the lead in what has been called one of the greatest humanitarian missions in the history of the U.S. military
The crew worked tirelessly and professionally, showing as much heart and dedication as any group of people you’ll ever find. They treated the Vietnamese refugees with respect and dignity at a time when they needed most in leaving their country at the end of a long and brutal war.
The Kirk’s sailors kept busy providing food, water and medicine to people on the South Vietnamese ships. Of the some 30,000 refugees on vessels escorted by the Kirk over six days, only three died.
But as the flotilla approached the Philippines, the Kirk’s captain got some bad news. The presence of South Vietnamese vessels in a Philippine port presented the government in Manila with a diplomatic predicament. The government of Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos, one of the first to recognize the Communist rulers now in control of a single Vietnam, insisted the ships now belonged to the North Vietnamese and they didn’t want to offend the new country.
Armitage and his South Vietnamese friend, Capt. Do, came up with a solution that Marcos had to accept. Since the Americans only loaned the ships to the Vietnamese government to fight the Communists, they would lower the Vietnamese flag and raise the American flag as a sign that the ships were back in the hands of the United States.
Following a frantic search to find 30 American flags, the ships flying American flags were allowed into Subic Bay. For the refugees, it was just the beginning of their long journey, which took them to Guam and then resettlement in the United States
For the sailors of the Kirk, ending the Vietnam War by rescuing 20,000 to 30,000 people was very satisfying.
Armitage says he “envied” the officers and men of the USS Kirk. The ship had not seen combat on its tour to Vietnam. But it ended with the rescue
Information for this article were drawn from USS Kirk websites and an NPR one-hour documentary entitled “The Lucky Few: The Story of USS Kirk.” The film can be seen at http://digitalcitizen.ca/2011/04/30/the-lucky-few-the-story-of-uss-kirk-complete-film/
There is also a book written by Jan K. Herman called “The Luck Few. The Fall of Saigon and the Rescue Mission of The USS Kirk.”