1988: a Vietnamese Boat Refugee Story

This is the story of my father's escape from post-war Vietnam. Through the retelling of his courageous story, my father hopes to reunite with his dear friend, Dung Ly, who, like him, braved the difficult journey as one of the boat people.

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After the Fall of Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City) and the end of the Vietnam War in 1975, over one million fled the country in southern Vietnam in fear of retaliation by the communists. Typically the Vietnamese refugees would use old boats, facing the risks of starvation, storms, and pirate attacks in the open sea.

My father, Van An Nguyen, was one of the Vietnamese boat people who fled the country in 1988 after his fifth try.

When my father made his first escape attempt, at 21 years old, he had to travel for hours to get to the awaiting boat by the seaside of Bến Tre, far away from his hometown, Sài Gòn.

At a street café in Bến Tre, an anonymous helper gave my father a ripped card as an identifier. The next day, my father met with another person who checked if his card matched to make sure that he wasn't a betrayer.

Following the lead of the helper, my father walked for hours and took several buses to reach the coast. At the same time they had to keep an eye out for the communists and not awake suspicion among the locals.

When it turned dark, my father and a group of other Vietnamese people were persecuted by the communists. Suddenly they heard shooting and had no choice but to run away and use the money they had left to get back to the city.

My father was determined to make a second attempt and traveled this time to another city near the Southern coast of Vietnam.

At dawn the boat was waiting by the coast of Vũng Tàu. But just when he thought the operation was successful, the communists caught on to the refugees and everyone ran away in panic.

In 1984, my mother encouraged my father to meet with a man she had met and whom she believed would be able to get my father out of the country. It turned out this man could not be trusted.

During this third attempt, my father was left alone in a house far away in the country side. Luckily, a local offered her help, because she knew that my father had been deceived.

Not having any money left, my father begged the woman to help him sell his pair of jeans so that he could afford a return ticket home to Sài Gòn.

In 1985, at 23 years old, my father was close to achieving his goal, sailing away near the seaside of Tiền Giang. The boat, however, got stuck in the rocks and all the refugees were sentenced to prison.

Prisoners had to work from 6 AM to 6 PM everyday building a long road deep in the forest. Anyone who couldn't handle the pressure was buried to the neck in mud and left from morning to evening.

Family visits were only allowed twice a month. During visitations, my mother and grandmother were allowed to give my father a small bag of rice and only exchange a few words with each other.

After two years in prison, my father was reunited with my mother in 1987. But at this point he had given up all hope of leaving the country.

In the Spring of 1988 a bike messenger was sent for my father. He was told that because he had attempted to flee so many times without luck, the people in charge of the refugee operation would to let him board the last boat without having to pay the required deposit.

Because my mother had just given birth, my father declined the offer and asked the woman in charge of the operation to let my uncle go instead.

[The messenger]: "How do I know he is your real brother!? I can't just let him go instead of you."

[My father]: "Please, I beg you! I swear he is my real brother. I can't leave my wife and newborn daughter - I wish you would let him go instead of me!"

[The messenger]: "...okay! But let me tell you that this is the last boat. If you choose to stay, you will not get another chance to leave the country!"

When my uncle was about to leave the country, he hesitated and didn't want to go without my father.

Filled with mixed emotions, my father made the last minute decision to leave the country together with my uncle without my mother knowing.

My father's final words to the people in charge of the refugee operation:

"I don't have anything left besides my house. If you let me go with my brother and I come out of this alive, I will let my wife know to sell our house and pay you back!"

After three days in the open sea and with only one potato and a cup of water each day, my father, uncle, and 114 other Vietnamese boat people were rescued by a German ship.

The German captain reported back home what he saw and his fear that the refugees would not survive the coming storm - he was told to let the Vietnamese boat people board the ship.

Photos from the rescue in 1988 (1/2)

Photos from the rescue in 1988 (2/2)

After the Rescue

Following his rescue, my father, Van An Nguyen, began working at a refugee camp in Hong Kong. Eventually, he was resettled in Denmark because his sister lived there. Two years later, in 1990, he was reunited with my mother and me.

Seeking a Long-Lost Friend

During his escape from Vietnam in 1988, my father established a deep friendship with Dung Ly among the boat people. Sadly, they lost touch in the '90s, and now, my father hopes that by sharing his story today, he can reconnect with his cherished friend. The last correspondence he received from Dung was after his relocation to Texas, USA, where he mentioned having a sister named Nga. Below, we are some photographs from their last exchanges. If you have any information that might be helpful, please don't hesitate to reach out to us via email or by sharing this story.

Photos of Dung Ly with handwritten notes from 1988 and 1989.

Contact:

vietrefugee@gmail.com

Welcome

After the Rescue

Seeking a Long-Lost Friend

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