The Last Chopper

50 Years After Vietnam

Just before 8 AM, Juan Valdez looked out at the horizon and saw a gloomy, gray sky dotted with intermittent clouds of black smoke and a single CH-46 helicopter headed his way. Valdez was 37 years old. He had been born in San Antonio in 1937 into a Hispanic community filled with so many people who, like his parents Salome and Antonia, were in search of the American Dream. In May 1955, as America continued to flex its might even amid Cold War hysteria, Valdez joined the Marines. By August 1965, he was in Vietnam, serving a tour of duty with Bravo Company, 3rd Amphibious Tractor Battalion, a tour that lasted until September 1967. By 1974, he had returned to Vietnam. Now, early in the hours of April 30, 1975, as he stood atop the U.S. Embassy in Saigon, Master Seargent Juan Valdez was about to become the last American soldier out of Vietnam.

The days leading up to April 30 had been as disastrous as the two plus decades that had marked America’s involvement with Vietnam to that point. The U.S. had nearly engaged in 1954, as French troops were falling to the Viet Minh at Dien Bien Phu. The Joint Chiefs even went so far as to encourage President Eisenhower to send in tactical airstrikes. However, before the French fell, General Matthew Ridgway conducted an on the ground report in Vietnam, concluding that such an effort would be disastrous and unwinnable. After Dien Bien Phu, Eisenhower had warned that French Indochina’s fall to Communism could create a “Domino effect” in Southeast Asia. By the end of his term, there were already Americans on the ground in Vietnam. By 1961, Ridgway’s report had been forgotten as President Kennedy—eager to silence his critics on the right and at 43, too trusting of his military aides—committed 3,000 military “advisers” to Vietnam at the recommendation of General Maxwell Taylor. By 1968, there would be over half a million American soldiers there, unsure of what they were fighting for—or against.

Still, the war went on as hundreds and sometimes thousands of Americans—most of them not even 21-years-old—were being killed every week. In 1968 alone, nearly 17,000 Americans would be killed as even more died on the North Vietnamese side. By then, it had become clear that the war was unwinnable. And although President Nixon had signed the Paris Peace Accords in January 1973 to officially end the war, approximately 5,000 Americans—diplomats, Marine guards, CIA agents, defense contractors—remained by that early morning in late April 1975. Through the decades of fighting, the North Vietnamese had not deterred in their goal: not of a Communist world order, but for independence and the unification of Vietnam.

By late March 1975, Da Nang—Vietnam’s second largest city—had fallen. It became clear that the capital city of Saigon would soon fall too. By April 28, with about 1,000 Americans remaining and some 6,000 at risk South Vietnamese, the codeword that signaled the start of Operation Frequent Wind was sent out over American airwaves: “The temperature in Saigon is 105 degrees and rising.” American Armed Forces Radio then played Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” on repeat to signal that evacuation was underway.

By the early morning of April 29, it became clear that Tan Son Nhut Airport was no longer usable. At around 4 AM that day, two Marines named Charles McMahon and Darwin Judge were killed in a rocket attack near the airport. McMahon, a corporal from Woburn, Massachusetts, was 11 days away from turning 22. Judge, a Lance Corporal from Marshalltown, Iowa, was 19 years old. They were to be forever remembered as the last two American soldiers—of over 58,000—who were killed in the Vietnam War. After the attack, the remaining Americans had only one way out: the roof of the U.S. Embassy. Thousands of South Vietnamese, desperate for escape, surrounded the perimeter of the building as North Vietnamese tanks barreled down toward Saigon.

Soon, choppers were landing every ten minutes, soon to be filled with men and women, Americans and Vietnamese, each of them fearful for their lives. At 5 AM on April 30, U.S. Ambassador Graham Martin—who had rebuffed attempts to ask him to leave— had finally been evacuated, as he carried the Embassy’s American flag in his arms. As his chopper took off, piloted by Captain Gerry Berry, it was assumed that the last Americans had escaped. Berry recalled later during takeoff asking himself, “You go through this thing in your brain right away: Was this all for naught?”

But, as the North Vietnamese had reached the perimeter of the city, Master Seargent Valdez realized that only he and his 10 other men were left atop the Embassy. One of the Marines, John Ghiliain, recalled Valdez telling them, “We’re going to die like Marines. This is our Alamo.” At that moment, Valdez could make out the turrets on the tanks coming down the road and could see that the Embassy’s fences had broken contain, as the cries of the crowds had grown louder and more desperate. Suddenly, an American helicopter appeared on the horizon: a CH-46, call sign, “Swift 22.” At 7:53AM, Valdez’s ten men boarded Swift-22—as he surveyed to ensure that no Americans were left behind. At that second, the helicopter began taking off. Only after a moment did it briefly touch back down as Valdez’s men hoisted him onto the chopper.

As Swift-22 took off, Valdez could look back down at the tanks barreling down the road, back down at the crowds still desperate for rescue, terrified at what the future might bring, and back down at a nation that had been at war with colonial forces since at least 1946, when the Viet Minh had staged its first attacks on the French occupying forces, who had been in the country since 1887. After the French had come the Americans came, and now none of them remained. All of it—decades of fighting, billions of dollars spent, and millions of lives lost—had come to an end, seemingly, in an instant.

The Vietnam War was over. Fifty years later and America is still paying the price.

Sources:

https://www.history.com/articles/fall-of-saigon-timeline-vietnam-war

https://www.azpm.org/s/5044-last-helicopter-out/

https://www.usmcmuseum.com/uploads/6/0/3/6/60364049/juan_valdez.pdf

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/on-this-date-1975-the-fall-of-saigon/