April 30th marks the 50th anniversary of the fall of South Vietnam. In Vietnam, there will be peacockery and celebratory parades, marking the anniversary of another defeat over a foreign superpower. For the South Vietnamese diaspora across the globe, it is a day of infamy. Most Vietnamese immigrants refer to the entire month of April as Black April, a month of mourning. For me, it is a time to reflect on my personal journey and family legacy.
My family escaped from Vietnam in April 1975. My father’s American friends facilitated our departure just days before Vietnam’s collapse because they had anticipated that our family would not survive communist retribution due to our fierce anti-communist stance. My father was a decorated French Commando in North Vietnam before the signing of the Geneva Accords, which marked the end of the First Indochina War. His family was staunchly anti-France, but after witnessing communist atrocities throughout North Vietnam, he joined the fight against the Viet Minh. After the abdication of French rule, he moved South with my mother and transitioned to the South Vietnam Marine Corps to continue his fight against the communists. My mother was born into a Northern landowning family. In the 1950s, communist Viet Minh, following Mao’s brutal agrarian reform, confiscated their land and murdered 43 members of her extended family. Viet Minh agents also brutally murdered her maternal grandfather, then staked his body in the rice fields for three days as a barbaric warning to others. Due to our past, we had no chance of surviving another communist regime. With assistance from my father’s friends, we were rescued while under communist fire by U.S. Marines from Tan Son Nhut Airport during the Republic of Vietnam’s final hours. Many of my father’s colleagues were not as lucky. Scores of South Vietnam’s military officers, government officials, educators, and intellectuals were herded into Soviet-style gulags for “re-education camps”. Many did not survive.
Meanwhile, their families also suffered. The regime conscripted their sons into the People’s Army, with most serving as poorly armed skirmishers during Vietnam’s invasion of Cambodia in 1979. The rest of the children were sent to “new economic zones” to toil endlessly on infertile jungle plots. Many did not return. Those who survived were denied access to education and employment. Motivated by freedom from the yoke of communism, roughly 1.5 million South Vietnamese took their chances against the deadly seas. More than 300,000 lost their lives, while survivors helped form the one million strong, highly successful Vietnamese diaspora.
My family was one of the lucky few. Although our journey was arduous, it pales in comparison to what other families were facing. After living in several refugee camps and with two hundred dollars in hand, we moved to an impoverished part of Los Angeles. My hardworking parents toiled endlessly to allow their children an opportunity to focus on school. We took turns earning college scholarships. In a short time, we became successful professionals. After graduating from the University of Southern California, I entered active duty service as an Infantry Officer. Many Vietnamese refugees volunteered for military service in the following years. Our wars were Afghanistan and Iraq. For many of us, the poor and huddled masses, it was a way to give back to this great nation. 13 Vietnamese immigrants have made the ultimate sacrifice in defense of our country. We did not come here to fight. We certainly did not come here to die. But as Americans, we will not take a back seat to anyone when it comes to defending our country.
As I mourn during this Black April, I’m also thankful to be a citizen of the greatest country on earth. In the words of Benjamin Franklin, “where liberty dwells, there is my country…” God bless our Vietnam Veterans. God bless America.
Viet Luong
Frisco, Texas
April 30th, 2025
