50th Mission Support Group deputy commander 11/3/2010 - SCHRIEVER AIR FORCE BASE, Colo. -- With Veterans Day just around the corner, let me share with you what this special day means to me. Bear with me as I walk you through the history behind the day that we now know as Veterans Day and why it has a special place in my heart. Originally Veterans Day was known as Armistice Day and traces its origin back to World War I, known at the time as "The Great War." According to the Department of Veterans Affairs, a temporary cessation of hostilities between the Allied nations and Germany went into effect on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. For that reason, November 11, 1918, is generally regarded as the end of "the war to end all wars." It was a year later when President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed November 11, 1919 as the first commemoration of Armistice Day. November 11th became a legal federal holiday in the United States in 1938. In 1954, at the urging of veterans who served in World War II and Korea, the 83rd Congress amended the Act of 1938 by striking out the word "Armistice" and inserting in its place the word "Veterans." With the approval of this legislation (Public Law 380) on June 1, 1954, November 11th became a day to honor American veterans of all wars. Here ends the history lesson. As for me, Veterans Day means a great deal. Whenever I have the honor of meeting veterans of past wars, I always make it a point to thank them for their service. I am thankful for veterans of all wars, but especially those who fought in the Vietnam War. Those brave men and women had a direct impact on my life and the lives of hundreds of thousands of "boat people" that fled the war torn nation of Vietnam in 1975. Yes, I was one of the "boat people." So how did I get to call this great nation of ours home? Simply put, it was due to my parents' bravery and sacrifices. On April 30, 1975, my parents having lived under Viet Cong's rule before Vietnam was divided in two, decided to leave all behind and took nine kids on a journey that changed our lives forever. My dad was an officer in the South Vietnamese Army and served proudly alongside U.S. Special Forces. When the Viet Cong took over South Vietnam he knew it was time to "get out of Dodge." My parents knew the family would not be safe because of his affiliation with U.S. Forces. They knew someone would turn them over to win favors with the new ruling party. They knew it was either live free or die...so off we went under the cover of darkness. Where were we going? Doesn't matter, we weren't staying. We boarded a tugboat crammed with hundreds of other refugees sea bound for freedom... we hoped. We were fleeing with only the clothes on our backs and very little sustenance. There was no food or water and very little comfort. Luckily for us, the U.S. Navy was on watch ready to rescue refugees. Upon our encounter with the U.S. Navy, we were directed to abandon our boat and climbed into a collection point...a barge with chain link fence and sand bags for stability. I was seven years old but can still remember my dad climbing behind my three-year old sister making sure she did not fall into the ocean as the barge swayed with waves. We were starving and dehydrated. We struggled through a couple nights without any food and very little water. I remember people pushing and shoving their ways toward the Navy ships fighting to get rescued. I also remember people fell between the sand barge and a Navy ship. They were never seen again. Smartly my parents kept us away from the madness until it was safe. I don't recall the full details, but my brothers and sisters still tease me about passing out from dehydration. I told them I faked the dehydration, took one for the "team" so the family would be rescued sooner. But I did wake up on board a Navy ship with an intravenous stuck to my arm...kind of tough to get around that one. I think it was about two to three days before we were plucked from the ocean on our way to Subic Bay, Philippines. A few days later I got my first ride in a C-130 to Anderson Air Base, Guam. Two more weeks of paperwork, shots and whatever else and we found ourselves in a refugee camp at Fort Indian Town Gap, Pa. We got to Fort Indian Town Gap just before Memorial Day and spent the next three months adjusting to a new culture. But trying to start a new life for a family of 11 was challenging when you hardly speak the language and had no money. Finding a family willing to sponsor us and give us a new start was not easy. In the end, it was St. Marks Luther Church in Storm Lake, Iowa that gave us a new life...our first home in the United States. Needless to say the climate didn't agree with us. It was the first time we saw snow...all the way up to the windows. I recall seeing my dad biking to work in the snow. He worked at a turkey processing plant. It was not for him nor did he enjoy it but it had to be done. It wasn't long before my parents uprooted us again for Portland, Ore. We now consider Portland home. So to veterans of all wars but especially the veterans of the Vietnam War, we owe you a debt of gratitude that cannot be repaid through words. We are forever in your debt. Through your bravery and sacrifices we are living the American dream...all the kids are successful, contributing to this great nation and making a difference everyday. We're proud to be Americans and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. In closing, I encourage everyone to thank a veteran today and everyday. Because it is the veterans who make it possible for us to pursue life, liberty and happiness. I'd like to close with a poem by Father Dennis Edward O'Brien "It is the Soldier." Forgive me if you have read it before. But I do believe it's worth taking a moment to remember what veterans have done for this great nation. Enjoy the poem! It is the Soldier By Father Dennis Edward O'Brien
... My dad was an officer in the South Vietnamese Army and served proudly alongside US Special Forces. He was a Captain in Green Beret and was part of the Special Operations Group . His missions were to go deep into the enemy
territories to gather intelligence.
... kind of tough to get around that one. According to my sister Carolyn, just before I fainted while waiting to be rescued, a young soldier walked over and took our water. My sister who was still on the barge, looked at
our father who was part of the security parameters, he looked away. The man slowly picked the water container up and started to turn the cap to take a drink. She looked at our father again, and again he looked away.
Suddenly she understood! She knew then our father would not risk his life for a few sips of water while the rescue ship was there. It's because we were at a very chaotic time, a lawless place where almost everyone was hungry and thirsty, and all soldiers with their weapons on them.
My sister took charge! She pointed at the man and screamed: "Hey man, put that water down. Put that down. That is my water." He continued to about take a drink. My sister did not care, she knew that he was a grown up man
and she was just a little kid. She screamed louder, demanding the man to put down the precious water. Because she screamed so loud, everyone was looking at her and the man. At that time he knew that he could not be a bully with a kid in front of thousands of people. He said "OK, OK, gee, take it easy!" and put the water container down. She jumped down and got
the container back. At that time I fainted. My other sisters Diane and Mary cried out. Carolyn ran over, picked me up and screamed even louder, "my brother, please help us, he is dying!" Our father heard that and jumped down. People tried to stop him because only women and children were to allow to be there to be rescued first. He cried and pushed them away
while yelled out for help. The security commander on the ship through the loud speaker ordered people to let our father go up the ship with me in arms...
Thanks. Carolyn Hoang,