NEWS

Nashville residents recall harrowing fall of Saigon

Holly Meyer
hmeyer@tennessean.com
Minh Sinh, president of the Vietnamese American Community of Middle Tennessee, was 5 during the fall of Saigon. While he was not in Saigon, his father was jailed after the North Vietnamese took over and he and his family were pushed into the jungle to fend for themselves. At 14, he fled Vietnam by boat with a small group of people.

The North Vietnamese captured Saigon on April 30, 1975, sending Americans and South Vietnamese scrambling for a safe exit out of the country.

A frenzy of evacuations began April 29 as helicopters flew thousands of Americans and South Vietnamese supporters from Saigon to ships waiting off the coast. They eventually would be carried to safety and thousands would follow for years after the war.

The impact of that historical day has been felt for four decades both in Vietnam and in the people who escaped to the United States.

Here are the stories of three people who now call Nashville home.

South Vietnamese Navy

The news of South Vietnam's surrender brought tears to Dang-duc Canh's eyes on the morning of April 30, 1975.

His South Vietnamese navy ship and about 30 others were anchored near the Con Son Island south of Saigon when the communists took the capitol city.

Almost 40 years later, Canh, 75, sits on the couch in his Hermitage home and recalls that day four decades ago as if it were yesterday.

"It was so shocking. I couldn't hold my tears. I couldn't at all. My mind, my head, just blank," Canh said. "Then I told my men on the ship, 'Now you're free to go,' and all of them said, 'No, we will be with you,' and everybody just cry."

After years of fighting, the South Vietnamese had lost their country. Returning home would put their lives at risk.

For 35-year-old Canh, that meant leaving his wife and children behind despite his desperate wish to be with them. He told his boss he wanted to go home to see his family one more time even if the trip became his death sentence.

"He told me that, 'Canh, you said you want to see your family before you die, are you sure you'll get home to see your family and then they shoot you? Or shoot you before?' " Canh said. "I had no choice to leave them behind."

Canh, who served in the military for 16 years, had delayed marriage despite his mother's urging because he didn't want his wife to become a widow. He waited until the 1972 peace negotiations to marry. He declared that their first child, regardless of gender, would be named Peace.

Twelve years would pass before Canh would see them again.

Canh's ship, carrying about 75 sailors and 1,000 South Vietnamese trying to flee the country, waited off the coast until May 2 when a U.S. Navy fleet moved in and asked them to follow their ships to the Philippines.

A merchant ship carried Canh to Guam and he eventually made it to San Francisco, sponsored by his U.S. Navy adviser from the war. After about five years in America, Canh applied for citizenship, and his family eventually came to the U.S.

He moved to Nashville in 1993 and worked for the Hertz rental car company, retiring three years ago. Canh now spends his time with his family, travels and helps the young Vietnamese community connect with older generations through the Vietnamese American Community of Middle Tennessee organization. He wants them to understand their history and learn about human rights issues in present-day Vietnam.

"I encourage them to go visit Vietnam now so they see by themselves because some of them may not believe us," Canh said. "Please support the Vietnamese people in Vietnam, to fight for their human rights, for their democracy and for their freedoms."

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South Vietnamese civilians scale the 14-foot wall of the U.S. embassy in Saigon on April 29, 1975, trying to reach evacuation helicopters as the last Americans depart from Vietnam.

An embassy escape

Ralph Singleton did not worry about his own exit from Saigon, but the U.S. Foreign Service Officer needed to find a safe escape for his South Vietnamese staffers and their families.

The North Vietnamese took revenge on those who had supported Americans during the war and he did not want to chance their fate. In the days leading up to the fall of Saigon, Singleton, who worked in the U.S. Agency for International Development, told those in his care to be prepared to flee at a moment's notice.

Singleton recalled how calmly his South Vietnamese secretary faced the prospect of being killed.

Beginning mid-April, Singleton's colleagues helped evacuate as many South Vietnamese staff members and their families as they could, including his secretary. Singleton, himself, wasn't leaving until everyone in his care had a safe route to the U.S.

"I was the acting head of the office. I come last," Singleton said. "You put it in army terms, a company commander or platoon leader is responsible for his men. He eats after they eat."

Finally, on April 29, Singleton walked the block from his apartment to the U.S. Embassy and saw a crowd of people gathered at the front gate. He learned that Americans could evacuate South Vietnamese as long as they vouched for them at the embassy gate, so he put out the call to the 10 or so people in his care.

"We got a few of them inside and then suddenly the crowds started to get so unruly the Marine guards just closed the gate," Singleton said. "I had no idea it was going to be the last day."

He directed others to the back gate and Singleton began scanning the anxious throng of people trying to find a way inside the embassy. The guards would no longer open the gates due to the crowd, so Singleton, wearing a .45 in a shoulder holster, pulled members of his party over the embassy wall.

Helicopters landed and took off throughout the day as the embassy's basic resources, like food and water, quickly were depleted.

Just after midnight on April 30, a helicopter touched down on embassy grounds, and Singleton and his group ran into the belly of the big machine. Singleton watched the tense gunner search the skies as they headed for the U.S. Naval fleet off the coast.

The chopper landed on the USS Hancock, which carried them safely to Subic Bay, Philippines.

Singleton's almost five-year post in Saigon came well into his career in the U.S. Foreign Service. He retired in 1984, performed consulting work in various countries for almost two decades. Now 82, he has settled into retirement with his new wife in Nashville.

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Americans and Vietnamese run for a U.S. Marine helicopter in Saigon during the evacuation of the city on April 29, 1975.

The boat people

Minh Sinh knew he had a 50-50 chance of surviving the boat trip, but the 14-year-old decided that staying in Communist-controlled Vietnam was a far worse fate.

On a sunny afternoon in 1985, Sinh snuck aboard a small fishing boat with 10 others and started what he hoped was just the beginning of a journey that would end on American soil.

"I say I have to do or die. I have to change my life and if I don't do it nobody step up to do it and I don't want to live with the Communists — dead end, no life, fearful, hopeless and no future," Sinh said.

That boy who left his reluctant parents is now a 44-year-old American citizen living in Nashville. Sinh, the president of the Vietnamese American Community of Middle Tennessee, is one of hundreds of thousands to evacuate Vietnam, often by boat, in the years following the end of the war.

Sinh was just 5 during the fall of Saigon, but he can remember the fear and uncertainty on the faces of the adults in his small village.

Soon after the northern regime captured the capitol, Sinh's father, a South Vietnamese soldier, was imprisoned, and the rest of his family was sent to live in one of the uninhabited New Economic Zones. Harsh conditions and consistent hunger became a way of life for Sinh and his family.

"They isolate my family and we just go out there and we grab whatever we can. We eat rat, snake whatever is around you," Sinh said. "It's hunger, fearful, hopeless and that is what I remember forever. It's scary. Almost 40 years, but still seem like yesterday to me."

While struggle defined Sinh's childhood, it also motivated his escape to freedom. His father, who was eventually released, shared nightly talks with Sinh about good American soldiers and the opportunities in the U.S.

When his brother-in-law acquired a boat, Sinh knew he must risk it all — and he did. A few hours out to sea and a storm crashed huge waves into his small group and Sinh felt death coming for him. So he knelt down and prayed.

"If God save my life only two things I do. I do what I can for my mom and dad and second thing is I can do whatever help my country to escape this communist regime," Sinh said. "Just a feel of electrical run from my head to my toes and I feel the warm feeling in my body and inside my body is come out the voice that I call the inner voice say, 'you not to die. You not to die.'"

Two nights and three days later, the boat landed in Malaysia. After seven months in a refugee camp, 15-year-old Sinh made it to America on Sept. 27, 1985. He reunited with some of his siblings in Kansas and eventually moved to Chicago where he met his wife. Sinh brought his mother to the U.S. in 2001, but his father opted to stay in Vietnam and died in 2014.

Today, Sinh is a financial adviser for World Financial Groups. He works to bridge the generational gaps in Nashville's Vietnamese community and raises awareness about human rights violations in Vietnam.

Reach Holly Meyer at 615-259-8241 and on Twitter @HollyAMeyer.