I originally posted this in 2018 and decided to repost it because the story to me was worth retelling.
I remembered reading about this back in the 1980's, I was studying the Vietnam war extensively since it was the most recent war we had been in and I know the effect that war had on my Dad and how it effected our family and how the war affected America and it took Desert Storm to get past the "Vietnam Syndrome". I had recalled reading in one of the SOF magazines about the voyage to the Philippines to escape the fall of South Vietnam. I still believe that we won the battles but lost the war at home due to the anti-war movement, the rules of engagements our troops had to deal with the artificial restrictions from the politicians and the yes men that inhabited the puzzle palace. I have blogged extensively about the Vietnam war and I guess I am adding to the count.
The USS Kirk carried out one of the most significant humanitarian missions in U.S. military history. Yet the story went untold for 35 years. Correspondent Joseph Shapiro and producer Sandra Bartlett of NPR's Investigative Unit interviewed more than 20 American and Vietnamese eyewitnesses and participants in the events of late April and early May 1975. They studied hundreds of documents, photographs and other records, many never made public before — including cassette tapes recorded at the time by the ship's chief engineer.
Shapiro first learned of the Kirk from Jan Herman, historian of the U.S. Navy Medical Department, who says the Kirk's heroics got lost because, as the Vietnam War ended, Americans were bitterly divided over the war's course and cost. There was little interest in celebrating a mission that saved the lives of 20,000 to 30,000 refugees. Herman is working on a book documenting the story and a film documentary, which was shown when the Kirk crew met for a reunion in Springfield, Va., in July.
On April 30, 1975, North Vietnamese troops entered the deserted streets of Saigon. 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 last Americans had been evacuated, rescued 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.
There was one exception. That night, the captain of a small destroyer escort, the USS Kirk, got a mysterious order to head back to Vietnam.
Paul Jacobs, the captain, received the directive from Adm. Donald Whitmire, commander of the evacuation mission — Operation Frequent Wind. He was aboard the USS Blue Ridge, the lead ship of the Navy's 7th Fleet.
The Kirk reached Con Son Island, off the southern coast of Vietnam, on May 1, 1975. There, it was met by 30 South Vietnamese navy ships and dozens of fishing boats and cargo ships — and as many as 30,000 Vietnamese refugees. Hugh Doyle
Jacobs recalls Whitmire's surprise message: "He says, 'We're going to have to send you back to rescue the Vietnamese navy. We forgot 'em. And if we don't get them or any part of them, they're all probably going to be killed.'"
The Kirk was being sent to an island off the Vietnamese mainland — by itself. And there was one more odd thing, the admiral told Jacobs: He'd be taking orders from a civilian.
Richard Armitage came aboard the Kirk late at night, wearing a borrowed sport coat. Years later, Armitage would become second in command to Colin Powell in the Bush administration's State Department. But on that last day of April 1975, he was on a special assignment from the secretary of defense. He'd just turned 30 that week.
Armitage recalls coming aboard the ship and quickly being escorted to the officer's mess where he met with Jacobs and Commodore Donald Roane, commander of the flotilla of Navy destroyers.
"Commodore Roane said something like, 'Young man, I'm not used to having strange civilians come aboard my ship in the middle of the night and give me orders,' " Armitage recalls. "I said, 'I am equally unaccustomed, sir, to coming aboard strange ships in the middle of the night and giving you orders. But steam to Con Son.' And so they did."
The Kirk and its crew of about 260 officers and men 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 had come up with the plan for them to gather there.
Armitage, a graduate of Annapolis, had been a Navy intelligence officer, assigned to Vietnamese units. He gained respect for the South Vietnamese as he worked alongside them and became fluent in the language. Then he resigned his commission and left the Navy in protest when the Nixon administration signed the Paris peace accords. That 1973 agreement between all warring parties in Vietnam ended direct U.S. military involvement in the war. Armitage felt the U.S. had sold out the South Vietnamese.
But as it became clear that the South Vietnam government was about to fall, a Pentagon official asked Armitage to fly back to Vietnam with a dangerous mission. His assignment: to remove or destroy naval vessels and technology so they wouldn't fall into the hands of the Communists.
In 1975, Richard Armitage was a 30-year-old civilian charged with a dangerous mission: to remove or destroy South Vietnamese naval vessels and technology so they wouldn't fall into the hands of the Communists. Later, Armitage would serve as deputy secretary of state from 2001 to 2005, under Secretary of State Colin Powell in the administration of George W. Bush. Courtesy Richard Armitage
A few weeks before Saigon fell, Armitage had shown up at the office of an old friend, Capt. Kiem Do, deputy chief of staff for the South Vietnamese navy. Together, they came up with the secret plan to rescue the Vietnamese ships when — as was becoming clear would happen — the South Vietnamese government surrendered.
Do remembers warning Armitage that they'd be saving more than ships.
"I told him, I said, 'Well, our crew would not leave Saigon without their family, so therefore there will be a lot of people,' " Do recalls.
He says Armitage remained silent. "He didn't say yes; didn't say no. So I just take it as an acknowledgement," Do says.
Armitage didn't tell his bosses at the Pentagon there would be refugees on those ships. He feared the American authorities wouldn't want them.
Neither Do nor Armitage, though, could predict how many refugees would turn up in Con Son.
The Kirk steamed through the night to Con Son and reached 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.
A boat brings Vietnamese refugees to the Kirk near Con Son Island. The U.S. ship undertook one of the greatest humanitarian missions in the history of the U.S. military. Hugh Doyle
The ships "were crammed full of people," says Kent Chipman, who in 1975 was a 21-year-old machinist's mate in the ship's engine room and today works at a water purification plant in Texas. "I couldn't see below deck, but above deck the people were just as tight as you could get, side by side."
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. Jan Herman, a historian with the U.S. Navy Medical Department, who is documenting the story of the Kirk, uses the higher number.
"They were rusty, ugly, beat up," says Chipman. "Some of them wouldn't even get under way; they were towing each other. And some of them were actually taking on water and we took our guys over and got the ones under way that would run."
One cargo ship was so heavy it was sinking. People below deck were bailing out the water with their shoes.
Stephen Burwinkel, the Kirk's medic — in the Navy known as a hospital corpsman — boarded that ship to check on the sick and injured. He saw a Vietnamese army lieutenant helping passengers leave the sinking ship, crossing to another ship, over a narrow wooden plank. As people pushed to get off the sinking ship, one man knocked a woman who stopped in front of him. She fell off the plank and into the ocean.
The woman was quickly rescued. But Burwinkel worried that the others on the ship would panic. He says the lieutenant acted quickly.
"This Vietnamese lieutenant did not hesitate, he went right up the back of that guy, took his gun out and shot him in the head, killed him, kicked him over the side. Stopped all the trouble right then and there," Burwinkel recalls. The shooting was shocking, he says, but it very likely prevented a riot.
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.
The USS Cook, another destroyer escort, like the Kirk, helped out as the ships were leaving Con Son. The Cook's crew provided rice, and its corpsman helped Burwinkel and his assistant from the Kirk attend to the sick and injured, too.
As the flotilla headed out to sea, on the way to the Philippines, other Navy ships came in and out of the escort, according to Herman. 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.
"For me, the Kirk was ideal," says Armitage, who moved from the Kirk to the Vietnamese navy's flagship. "It could communicate with the rest of the U.S. fleet. They would go with us across to the Philippines and would be able to rescue any of the folks who might be in harm's way. Some had been wounded. Some were pregnant. All were sick after a while. And we needed a way to take care of those folks."
The Kirk's sailors kept busy providing food, water and medicine to people on the South Vietnamese ships.
The South Vietnamese fleet follows the USS Kirk to Subic Bay in the Philippines. The Kirk's final mission at the end of the Vietnam War was to bring the remnants of the South's navy to safety in the Philippines. Hugh Doyle
Burwinkel spent his time moving from ship to ship treating the sick and injured. With thousands of people — many of them babies and children — he had to work almost nonstop.
"When they gave me the meritorious service medal over all this, I quite frankly referred to it as my 'no-sleep' medal," says Burwinkel, who made a career in the Navy and is now retired and living in Pensacola, Fla. "I would go out there and do my thing and at dark we would come back to the Kirk and try to get a little bit to eat and make some rounds — gather my wits about me, resupply myself and get ready for the next day."
Last Sovereign Territory Of The Republic Of Vietnam'
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 would present the government in Manila with a diplomatic predicament.
The Philippine government wasn't going to allow us in, period, because these ships belonged to the North Vietnamese now and they didn't want to offend the new country," Jacobs, the captain, recalls.
The government of Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos was one of the first to recognize the Communist rulers now in control of a single Vietnam, and Jacobs was told the ships should go back.
Armitage and his South Vietnamese friend, Capt. Do, came up with a solution that Marcos had to accept.
Do recalls the plan: "We will raise the American flag and lower the Vietnamese flag as a sign of transfer [of] the ship back to the United States, because during the war those ships are given to the Vietnamese government as a loan, if you want, from the United States, to fight the Communists. Now the war is over, we turn them back to the United States."
There was a frantic search to find 30 American flags. Two officers from the Kirk were sent aboard each Vietnamese ship to take command after a formal flag ceremony.
Rick Sautter was one of the Kirk officers who took command of a Vietnamese ship.
"That was the last vestige of South Vietnam. And when those flags came down and the American flags went up, that was it. Because a Navy ship is sovereign territory and so that was the last sovereign territory of the Republic of Vietnam," he says.
"Thousands and thousands of people on the boats start to sing the [South Vietnamese] national anthem. When they lower the flag, they cry, cry, cry," Do remembers.
On May 7, 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.
"This was the high point of my career and I'm very proud of what we did, what we accomplished, how we did it," Jacobs says. "I felt like we handled it truly professionally and that was kind of a dark time."
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 of tens of thousands of refugees, one of the greatest humanitarian missions in the history of the U.S. military.
Says Armitage: "They weren't burdened with the former misadventure of Vietnam."
This article originally appeared on NPR.org, September 1, 2010 by Joseph Shapiro & Sandra Bartlett. Here's the original link to this story:
I got this from "VietnamCherries" a website that is dedicated to the experiences from Vietnam. I used to ask my Dad about a lot of the stuff on it to get his "Take" on it and I would add his "2 cents" to my blogpost to give it more of a backstory as were. It feels weird putting up a Vietnam post and not asking him about it. I will get better. This was written from a South Vietnamese perspective.
I clipped this pic off "Google", I actually remember this cover.
By Nguyen Cong Hoan,
This article originally appeared in Newsweek,
October 31, 1977, and was submitted to me for posting consideration by
my friend, Bill Laurie. Much has changed since 1977, and the purpose of
this post is to show what happened to the people after the South
Vietnamese government fell in 1975. This story from one who was lucky to
escape and reach freedom.
The
government of Vietnam has accepted triumphantly its full United Nations
membership, to the cheers of what Hanoi calls “progressive mankind” –
the Communist countries, much of the Third World, and those in the West
who opposed American Government policies during the war.
To
a Vietnamese like myself, who detested the corrupt and repressive Thieu
regime and considered the Communist victory a liberation, such an event
should bring joy. But after living for nearly two years in Communist
Vietnam, I feel precisely the opposite emotion.
I
escaped from Vietnam to tell the world the truth about what is
happening in my country. Within days after Hanoi’s troops came to my
town, such widely proclaimed policies of the Viet Cong’s National
Liberation Front as religious freedom, democratic liberties, peace and
neutralism went out the window. Even the southern Communists were cast
aside by northerners acting as conquerors, seizing all levers of power,
inventorying and requisitioning everything.
For
those bold enough to question, a vast network of prisons called
“re-education camps” was established almost overnight – prisons where
inmates were worked to death or starved. The prisoners included not only
former Saigon military and civilian officials, but also many who
opposed them – advocates of democratic liberties and a compromise peace.
Apolitical professional, intellectual and religious leaders were also
detained.
Prisoners
In
my province, Phu Yen, alone, out of a total population of about
300,000, there were more than 6,000 prisoners in seven camps when I left
Vietnam last spring. During the war the population of South Vietnam was
estimated at about 17 million and was censused by Hanoi recently at
about 24 million. If the Phu Yen prison population is characteristic of
all of former South Vietnam, as is likely, from 340,000 to 480,000 could
now be detained.
Outside
the camps, many are unemployed and those with jobs can barely earn
enough to feed one person, let alone a family. Thousands are
press-ganged into nonpaying, ostensibly “voluntary” labor brigades
working on roads, canals and irrigation ditches. Large numbers are
forced to settle in remote, disease-ridden “new economic zones,” a
population dispersal aimed more at political control than at economic
development.
The
economy is in shambles. What agricultural wealth there is in southern
Vietnam is siphoned to the north or exported for foreign exchange.
Southern people have had their diet deteriorate from rice to yam and
manioc.
The
new authorities rule by force and terror. What little freedom existed
under Thieu is gone. The An Ninh secret police are dreaded – worse than
any previous Vietnamese regime. There is no freedom of movement or
association, no freedom of the press, or of religion, or of economic
enterprise, or even of private personal opinion. Rights of habeas
corpus, or of property, are either unknown or flouted even as the
government redefines these rights. Fear is everywhere. An indiscreet
remark can make one liable to instant arrest and an indefinite prison
term.
America
is partly responsible for the tragedy befalling the Vietnamese. While
the US cannot, and should not, reintervene militarily, it can influence
Hanoi to ameliorate the human rights situation, just as it has obliged
Hanoi to make some kind of accounting for MIA’s. For example, virtually
the entire An Quang Buddhist leadership has been arrested. As a
Buddhist, I urge respectfully that Americans – certainly American
religious leaders – express their concern publicly.
Many
legislators active with me in opposing Thieu – and who were beaten and
jailed by the Saigon government – are in prison again. These include
democrats like Tran Van Tuyen, chairman of my opposition bloc in
Saigon’s lower house, whose case was recently taken up, I understand, by
Amnesty International. As a political leader myself, I appeal to
American political figures to express their concern to Hanoi and call
for the release of Tuyen and many others I could help them list. The
three men I escaped with, incidentally, want to come from Japan to
America to provide their own eyewitness accounts of the suffering in
Vietnam, but they need assistance.
An Appeal
I
appeal also for help to the thousands of Vietnamese boat people who
perish on the seas in river boats never meant for the severity of ocean
passage. At least half who make it to territorial waters reportedly
drown as their flimsy boats go under. Who will rescue them if the United
States does not participate? President Carter has agreed to accept at
least 15,000 more Indochinese refugees, for which we are grateful. But a
rescue project to pick people off those boats on the high seas is also
needed.
Let
me mention energetically people whom I once opposed during the war:
those who worked directly or indirectly for the United States. The US
has responsibilities regarding the fate of these people, comparable to
the principle that American marines are said to have of not deserting
their wounded.
To
tell Americans what I have just said, I left my wife and children and
risked my life on the seas. I appeal to Americans on behalf of the human
rights of my people: please do not mute your voices on this subject.
Before I escaped, there was great interest in my country in the human
rights stand of President Carter and other Western leaders. Vietnamese
listen attentively to the Voice of America and the BBC. The cause of
human rights comes up very often in conversations. Where hope is a rare
commodity, the news that the world is watching, and cares, provides
moral sustenance.
Nguyen
Cong Hoan was a member of the Buddhist antiwar opposition bloc in South
Vietnam’s lower house and became a member of the unified Vietnamese
National Assembly following the Communist victory. He defected from
Vietnam earlier this year.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------