Saigon Notebook
by guest writer Kim Koenne
Intro by Kat Fitzpatrick:
I am fascinated by old notebooks. Simple pages imbued with personal meaning—and so intimate.
So I was deeply honored when Kim Koenne, fellow “Saigon Kid,” shared these original, unedited entries with me.
Below you too can share in her firsts attempts to capture a time that is both difficult to convey in mere words and impossible to forget.
We glimpse the most harrowing story first, but I beg you to read into the rest and feel, as she must have, the weight of history on her young shoulders as she was being swept into a setting not of her choosing, but seemingly—as is the case with all of us affected by Vietnam—of her destiny.
Today, October 16, is the anniversary of her arrival in that far away land.
Saigon Memories by Kim Koenne
Coming to a Dead Stop
Here comes my friend Joe on his moped. He approached a group of us who were standing around in the street.
“Hey, there’s been an accident up the street, a cattle truck full of GIs ran over a Vietnamese man on a motorcycle.”
So we all move up to the main highway (Chi Lang) that runs from Tan Son Nhut to Binh Hoa to see what’s going on.
I can only imagine what these GIs thought when here comes a gang of American teens! There must have been six of us, maybe more!
“Hey,” they start in on us right away. “Where are you from? What state you from?”
When they started that, I was speechless! There was this dead man right under their feet, and they were just talking as if the body wasn’t there.
It was just another day in Saigon.
No Going Back, Yet
“Back to the world” was an expression the American GIs used to mean they were going “Back to the USA.”
Well, Saigon was a world away from the USA.
The Vietnamese were raised with different values, customs, and history than I was raised with. Then, in my 12th year, I was confronted with the Vietnamese lifestyle, not to mention the undeclared war!
This is a reminiscence of the thoughts and experiences of an American teen in Saigon.
Fall 1968- Summer 1971
I was 12 years old when I was told that our family was going to live in Saigon.
It was about a year earlier that I was looking forward to a change: Junior High School. Well, I got a change!
It was Singapore for the summer of 1968, and on the evening of October 16th that year, my mom, brother Curt, and I arrived at the Saigon airport.
It was a night I’ll never forget. We traveled on a DC(?) on which we had been served a box dinner with rotten apples. I sat next to a military man; I remember voicing my fear of living in a country where a war was going on. He tried to put me at ease by saying that Saigon would be a safe place to live.
It was a rainy evening when we arrived in Saigon; the airport ceiling and floor were full of various-sized holes. The military was everywhere, Vietnamese, American, and I later learned (and saw) a few Australian, Philipino*, and Thai allies.
It was a wet and dark night, and I don’t recall seeing much on our ride to our new house.
The first week, my dad introduced us to Tan Son Nhut, the “Zoo,” the Parkers, but no kids. The Parkers lived next to the “Zoo” (nickname for a house CASI pilots lived in), and they had a moped, which my brother and I loved. My brother still loves two wheels.
We moved into a place off of Chi Lang, on Ngo Tung Chau, which ran parallel to Chi Lang about a half-mile to the north.
We moved two times before we left Saigon in June 1971, and they were both to houses on Ngo Tung Chau.
*This spelling was used in 1968. In 1987, it was changed to “Filipino.”
Arrival at our first house
10-16-68
Rainy evening, next couple of days rain.
Curt and I shared the same room for a few months, till I got the courage to move upstairs to the 3rd room, which had a door that opened up onto the roof. Lived right at the entrance to “VC Alley”. My dad made it a point to be friendly with the locals. Thanksgiving that year, we shared our turkey with the neighbors.
Curt and I had to walk past armed VNA soldiers a few times to catch our ride to school.
The sink was on the floor in the kitchen. [The] 1st house: Ngo Tung Chau, Gia Dinh; moved shortly to 2nd house (’69), completely barbed wire (12 ft high?) & rolled barbed wire surrounded home, pond in front, (ape-VC) lived here.
The 3rd house on Ngo Tung Chau is built around a garden [and has] a 3rd floor roof [and a] phone.
*Note: Yes, we had a small ape, I believe a siamang ape. Pictured at our 2nd house.
Here is a picture of me with my first friends from the Phoenix Study Group (PSG), Kathy and Kim; their mom was a Vietnamese movie star. Vung Tau, Vietnam, April 1969.
Again, thanks to Kim for sharing these glimpses of Vietnam.
Do you have any “stories of Vietnam” you would like to share? Please respond to this email and we can discuss the possibilities of sharing short (1200 words), curated pieces in this newsletter.
About Kat Fitzpatrick, M.F.A.
She is the author of the nonfiction book, For the Love of Vietnam: a war, a family, a CIA official, and the best evacuation story never heard, which combines the history of the Vietnam War with tales from her own family’s lives including how she and her civilian family resided in Saigon in 1974-75 as the North Vietnamese Army was making its way toward the city, and how, at the eleventh hour, her father, a CIA official, coordinated the rescue of over 1,000 South Vietnamese—the staff and families of “House Seven.”
She continues to publish current and retrospective “Stories of Vietnam” on Substack (katfitzpatrick.substack.com), adding layers to her own stories as well as featuring other voices, including those of Vietnam veterans and Vietnam refugees. She lives in the Capital District of New York State.