On April 29, 1975, the beleaguered South Vietnamese capital of Saigon witnessed the largest helicopter evacuation in history. Two United States Marine Corps helicopter squadrons, ten U.S. Air Force helicopters, and Air America carried out 1,373 Americans and 5,595 people of other nationalities. Although a good deal has been written over the past thirty years about the military’s efforts during the dramatic events of late April, the story of Air America — the airline secretly owned by the Central Intelligence Agency — remains largely untold.

By mid-April, it was clear that the progressive seizure of South Vietnam by multiple tank-led North Vietnamese Army (NVA) columns would not likely be stopped. Hanoi’s campaign had begun with the January 6, 1975, fall of Phuoc Binh, the first provincial capital to be taken by the Northerners in the two years since the signing of the Paris peace arrangement. The loss, seventy-five miles north of Saigon, cost the South Vietnamese three thousand soldiers and was accomplished by two North Vietnamese divisions reinforced by armored forces, a pattern that would be repeated time and again.

The next significant blow came on March 10 in the high plateau region of the country, two hundred miles to the north of Saigon at Ban Me Thuot, the capital of Darlac province. There, two NVA divisions, again with substantial tank reinforcements, pummeled a South Vietnamese division and began heading eastward toward the coast. By April 2, the NVA had effectively cut South Vietnam in half, leaving Saigon’s forces in the northern half of the country trapped between North Vietnam and the growing number of Communist units pouring in from the Ho Chi Minh Trail and Cambodia. By April 25, fifteen NVA divisions had surrounded the Saigon area, which was defended by only four infantry divisions, an armored brigade, an airborne brigade, and two ranger regiments.

When military authorities were discussing plans for Frequent Wind (Option 4) — the emergency helicopter evacuation of Saigon — in early April, it was obvious that Air America would have a crucial part to play. Rooftops in downtown Saigon could not support the heavy Marine Corps helicopters. Only Air America’s lighter Bell UH-1 Hueys could do the job, and the airline pledged to military evacuation authorities to have twenty-five of its twenty-eight helicopters available at any given time. Because of a shortage of pilots, many of these helicopters would have to be flown by a single pilot. According to the U.S. Air Force account of the final evacuation, ‘This was risky, but Air America was accustomed to such risks and expressed no reservations about that aspect of the Saigon air evacuation.’

On April 7, veteran helicopter pilot Nikki A. Fillipi reported as Air America’s representative to the Special Planning Group of the Evacuation Control Center at the Defense Attach Office (DAO) compound, located at Saigon’s Tan Son Nhut airport. His first responsibility was to survey thirty-seven buildings in downtown Saigon to assess their viability as helicopter landing zones (HLZs). Working with Lieutenant Robert Twigger, assigned to the DAO from Okinawa as the Marine Corps liaison officer, Fillipi completed in ten hours a task that was scheduled to take a minimum of two days. The survey led to the selection of thirteen HLZs. Fillipi then put in three eighteen-hour days supervising crews in removing obstructions that might interfere with safe ingress-egress to the HLZs. An ‘H’ was painted on each rooftop to mark the skids for Air America’s helicopters, indicating that aircraft could land or take off in either direction with guaranteed rotor clearance.

During his meetings with the Special Planning Group, Fillipi emphasized that three requirements had to be met if Air America was to complete its assigned tasks in the evacuation plan. Earlier evacuations of Pleiku, Da Nang, and Nha Trang had demonstrated the need for the Air America ramp, or landing site, to be secured. Helicopters also needed a safe supply of fuel. Finally, to avoid confusion, Air America had to maintain its own communication network, linking with Marine Corps helicopters only through the UHF guard frequency. He was assured that all three requirements would be met.

Paul Velte, Air America’s managing director and CEO, arrived in Saigon from Washington in early April. After consulting with Fillipi on the evacuation planning to date, he contacted U.S. Air Force Brig. Gen. Richard Baughn, deputy to defense attach Maj. Gen. Homer D. Smith. Velte was concerned about the possible loss of Air America’s base at Tan Son Nhut in time of emergency and suggested that the U.S. Navy assign a ‘baby carrier’ to the company as an operational base. ‘The baby carrier,’ Velte explained, ‘had the necessary machine shops to do repair work, had fuel, and had mobility. It could move up and down the coast and would allow Air America to perform its missions as required.’ Velte also wanted to know if the military could furnish additional pilots to allow double crewing of the helicopters for the emergency operation.Baughn was sympathetic to Velte’s requests. The loan of a carrier, however, was out of the question. He did request the temporary reassignment of thirty marine helicopter pilots so that each Air America Huey would have a co-pilot. But when Ambassador Graham Martin read the cable, he was furious. He sent an urgent message canceling Baughn’s request, relieved the air force general of his duties, and ordered him out of the country.

Martin’s precipitous action was characteristic of what was becoming an increasingly bizarre attitude on the part of the U.S. Embassy as the North Vietnamese drew closer to Saigon. Even Secretary of State Henry Kissinger was becoming concerned with Martin’s actions. ‘Faced with imminent disaster,’ Kissinger later wrote, ‘Martin decided to go down with the ship….’ He was reluctant to evacuate any Americans lest that contribute to the disintegration of the South. ‘I considered Martin’s stonewalling dangerous,’ Kissinger recalled. On April 9, he told Ben Bradlee, executive editor of the Washington Post, ‘We’ve got an ambassador who is maybe losing his cool.’

The military’s efforts to press Martin into action were proving fruitless. On April 12, the 9th Marine Amphibious Brigade (MAB), which was to supply helicopters and a security force for the evacuation, sent a delegation to consult with the ambassador on current plans. Martin told them that he would not tolerate any outward signs that the United States intended to abandon South Vietnam. All planning would have to be conducted with the utmost discretion. Brigadier General Richard E. Carey, commander of the 9th MAB, flew to Saigon the next day to see Martin. ‘The visit,’ Carey reported, ‘was cold, non-productive and appeared to be an irritant to the ambassador.’The military situation, meanwhile, continued to worsen as North Vietnamese forces encircled the capital. On April 21, South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu resigned. That same day, the 9th MAB established a forward headquarters at the Defense Attach Office. The DAO complex, together with an Air America area across the street, was designated as the main departure point for a helicopter evacuation to the fleet. A battalion-sized security force would guard the complex, while a battalion command group and one company would be sent to the Air America area.

General Smith also sent a message to Washington, requesting permission to send a platoon of marines to Tan Son Nhut at once to control the growing crowd of fixed-wing evacuees. Lest Ambassador Martin’s sensitivities be upset about the presence of additional U.S. military personnel, Air America helicopters were used on April 25 to bring in forty marines, dressed in civilian clothes, from USS Hancock, standing offshore. Once inside the DAO complex, they were able to don their combat gear.

Air America’s part in the evacuation plans began to unravel on April 28. As managing director Velte later recalled, ‘Many things began to happen at once.’ That morning, Velte had an unpleasant encounter with George Jacobson, special assistant for field operations at the embassy and the man charged by Martin to handle evacuation matters. Citing Air America’s contract with the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), Jacobson had been requiring four double-crewed helicopters to stay overnight at the Mekong River provincial capital of Can Tho, where there was a U.S. consulate. Velte complained that the requirement was jeopardizing Air America’s commitment of twenty-five helicopters for the evacuation of Saigon. Jacobson, Velte later recalled, explained that ‘he had an obligation to his people. They were highly dedicated types and they felt better knowing that there were helicopters available.’ The managing director then told Jacobson that he intended to return the helicopters to Saigon, the USAID contract notwithstanding.

Later that day, Velte learned that General Carey had decided not to provide a security force for the Air America ramp at Tan Son Nhut. This came as a shock. Only the previous week, Carey had assured Velte that he would send marines to secure the ramp. Velte made several phone calls in an effort to have Carey’s decision reversed. When that course of action appeared unpromising, he prepared a letter for Jacobson, asking that the ambassador intervene and overturn the decision. From the start, he emphasized to Jacobson that the security of the Air America area had been a prerequisite for the company’s successful participation in any emergency evacuation plan. Velte then called a 5:30 p.m. meeting of senior company personnel to review the latest developments.

Velte was in Air America Vice President Var Green’s office at Tan Son Nhut, his back to the window, when they heard a flight of jet planes passing overhead shortly after 6 p.m. Suddenly, bombs began to fall, shattering the glass in the window. Five Cessna A-37 Dragonfly jets were attacking the Vietnamese Air Force (VNAF) side of the field. They destroyed three Fairchild AC-119 gunships and several Douglas C-47 transports, and set off numerous fires. At first, everyone believed that the attack marked the start of a coup. It soon became clear, however, that the aerial assault was the beginning of the North Vietnamese offensive against Saigon.

Tan Son Nhut came under intermittent rocket and artillery fire at sundown, but, as Green pointed out, ‘frequent secondary explosions of fuel and ammunition from the initial [air] attack gave the impression of continuous shelling.’ Everything became quiet around 8 p.m. Some of the Air America Filipino mechanics began refueling and conducting overnight inspections of the aircraft. Work also started on one helicopter that needed major attention after being in storage for several months. Several of the Filipinos, however, remained in shelters and refused to come out. Ronald Liechty, supervisor of helicopter maintenance, recalled that one of the mechanics ‘kept shouting that they were all going to die. This wasn’t conducive to getting any work done.’

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