Children born in South Vietnam from 1966 to 1975 lived dangerous and precarious lives. The war wiped out not only villages, but families as well It was not uncommon for poor or frightened mothers to leave their babies in hospital nurseries, at the doors of churches, police stations or even near Dumpsters. Others were delivered to orphanages by caring relatives, friends, neighbors, because the chance for adoption promised stability to so many living in that war-torn region. For youngsters who were disabled, of mixed race or severely malnourished, it was their only hope.
Many babies were too puny, sickly and “unstimulated” (un-loved) to survive. In spite of every effort, their legacy was a cardboard box and an unmarked grave behind the orphanage. In Vietnam, as many as 80 percent of the orphaned infants under a year died–not from disease and disability, but from lack of love and bonding. Relief came from the multilingual humanitarians who set up makeshift shelters and institutions to care for their increasing numbers and needs. Missing limbs, shrapnel wounds, blindness, severe or temporary medical and mental problems were part and parcel of that care.
Nothing could have been done without the help of U.S. military personnel. Many gave up precious leave time by rolling up their sleeves and working to bring relief to those in need. Rosemary Taylor, an Australian and founder of an orphanage, tells how she and others, with the soldiers, used to distribute milk, food, clothing and medication to those infants. They also helped administer vaccination programs, particularly for polio, which was prevalent at that time. In her poignant book, “Orphans of War,” Taylor recalls that while many countries haggled over “who’s responsible” or the issue of race, it was the United States government and its people who provided the critically missing medical and personal aid.
In the past, we’ve heard negative reports about the havoc wreaked in occupied countries by the military, who spent free time carousing, bar-hopping or leaving a trail of jilted women and babies. Many GIs in Vietnam, however, made a positive difference. Some of them begged for extended tours of duty in order to help South Vietnam’s youngest and most defenseless victims. A debt of gratitude is owed to those U.S. servicemen–the unsung heroes.
This army of angels who offered to hold and hug those small orphans became “a refuge to the needy in distress.” Hundreds of children lived and flourished because of their efforts. My adopted sons, Tony and Charlie, are two of those survivors.
Tony, whom we instantly tagged our Vietnamese “miracle baby,” arrived on Dec. 21, 1972, thanks to a U.S.-issued Emergency Medical Visa, which saved his frail young life. He was 2 months old and weighed a scant five pounds due to malnutrition, diarrhea and severe dehydration. The first weeks and months were shaky, but as Tony blossomed, we realized that credit was due, not just to technology and medicine, but to prayer and 24-hour attention and holding. The holding began, not with us, but with those caregivers who cuddled and took care of Tony during the most fragile and critical time of his life.
Our other son, Charlie, is dark-skinned and thought to be Cambodian. When we first saw him, he was a nightmare-tormented 5 1/2-year-old. Aside from some serious dental problems, his medical needs were minor compared with the emotional trauma of seeing his entire family killed. Charlie was one of the last of the “unassigned orphans,” airlifted from a Saigon orphanage and brought to America as part of the 1975 “Baby Lift.” We are truly thankful to those who gavecountless hours of volunteer time, sometimes risking their lives to rescue kids like Charlie, whose future would have been uncertain, if not over. My family firmly believes that the help, hope and hands-on love given to our sons by servicemen (and women) volunteers really helped them survive illness and the emotional horrors of war.
Tony and Charlie are now fine young men. They have shed remaining traces of their medical and emotional handicaps and have prospered through the miracle of love and the stability of a permanent family. They have each chosen to serve their adopted country by enlisting in the armed services. One evening Charlie told us, “Now it’s time. I want to do something for my country.” He joined the air force as a technician. Two years later his brother, Tony, decided to follow suit by signing up with the army for a four-year stint of duty–he recently served a year overseas.
Maybe none of those GI volunteers remembers Tony, the 2-month-old infant–too fragile and tiny to have a personality, or Charlie, the 5-year-old with the huge brown eyes and captivating charm. The point I wish to make is that “we remember you!” And we’re proud that these two vibrant young men have chosen to serve their country as a small way of saying thank you to the military men and women who selflessly gave of themselves to offer orphaned children a chance for life. This family is deeply grateful.
