But there were still several thousand Americans in Laos and during the month of May, events slowly unfolded. The American withdrawal in Laos, with the shutdown of the US Mission to Laos happened more with a whimper than with a bang. During the early morning hours of May 21, student protesters (instigated by the Pathet Lao) occupied the USAID compound and support facilities as well as the KM-6 housing complex, where a majority of the USAID families lived. The US Embassy was also surrounded but not entered. While Prime Minister Souvanna Phouma had assured the US Embassy that their support was desired, he was not, in reality, in control of the situation.
The US found itself in the position of having to negotiate for the release of its citizens and find a way to shut down what was one of the largest AID missions in the world. After three days, with the good offices of the Indian and Australian Ambassadors, evacuation flights were arranged and non-essential persons began to leave the country. As one of the Assistant Personnel officers with USAID, my father had the responsibility for getting everyone out. As such we were on the departure list early so he could focus on his job and not worry about us. I was quite annoyed as I wanted to be among the last so I could actually watch all the events taking place.
Those of us in KM-6 were assigned to specially chartered Royal Air Lao flights starting on May 23, leaving our homes, our possessions, our pets and most often our dads, with one suitcase and a carry-on bag each. We met in front of ASV where our passports and health docs were checked by the USAID liaison team so that there would be no surprises at the airport. We then boarded buses and were driven through the back streets to the airport. There were glimpses of walls with signs saying “Yankee Go Home!”
At the airport, we gathered in the departure lounge under the watchful eyes of the Pathet Lao, awaiting the arrival of our plane, which had taken another group out to Bangkok earlier in the afternoon. Our bags were inspected as the Pathet Lao were suspicious that we were going to take materials brought in by the US as part of the aid mission. How we were supposed to fit typewriters, jeeps, air conditioners in our suitcases was a mystery! The plane landed around 8:00 PM, then was moved away from the gate out of sight. Were we going to be allowed to leave? The plane reappeared a bit later and just before 9:00, we were allowed to board. Shortly after takeoff, at 9:20, the pilot announced we had cleared Lao airspace and were now in Thailand. When we landed in Bangkok, the pilot, doing his customary spiel, “On behalf of Royal Air Lao, we hope that you have had a pleasant flight and look forward to seeing you on your next flight with us!” We all looked at each other and said “Huh??”
Upon our arrival in Bangkok, the US Embassy met us with a support team and we were bussed to a hotel, where those from successive flights were also placed. For some, onward travel to the US was a priority, for others, like us, waiting till our dad was allowed to leave meant we stayed in Bangkok. Before the days of CNN, e-mail, the internet or even reliable telephone service, the news from Laos came via the steady stream of evacuees as they reached Bangkok. My father would send messages as he shipped personnel out. One day, we received a call from the front desk at the hotel, saying that a Mr. Singh was downstairs for us. We went downstairs to find our Indian tailor from Vientiane holding a suitcase. He had made a trip to Bangkok and had brought a bag on behalf of my dad. Not only did it contain some clothes that had been ordered from the tailor, but things of my father’s with a note that said “Have sent this with Mr. Singh as I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave with anything when the time comes.”
On June 6th, Dad showed up in Bangkok with no warning, one of the last USAID team to leave Laos. Within the space of just a few weeks, the USAID mission was closed down and materials turned over to the Lao government. A week later, we headed back to the US with Dad unsure of his next assignment.
I headed for college in August, without a high school diploma or a final transcript. The abrupt departure had meant no graduation, limited goodbyes, and no closure. I came back to find few people who knew about the events in Laos, or in some cases, even where it was. And in December, when the Lao PDR was announced from the ASV gym at KM-6, the newspapers (such as the St. Petersburg, FL Times on December 1) made just a little mention of it.
