We drove slowly down a street of tidy Spanish-style houses in San Jose, looking for the
one that belonged to Nguyen Minh Chau. It was April, 1998, 23 years almost to the day
after the fall of Saigon. My husband wondered if he'd recognize the Vietnamese district
chief he last saw 30 years ago in a war-torn country on the other side of the world.
As an army intelligence officer and advisor to the South Vietnamese Army, Liam worked
directly with Chau and other Vietnamese officials in the village of Di An in Bien Hoa
Province. He found it somewhat absurd that a 26-year-old college graduate with one year of
military training should advise anybody on anything, but intelligence had sounded more
interesting and less dangerous than the infantry, and like most young single American men,
Liam had little choice. It was 1966 and caps and gowns were quickly replaced by army boots
and rifles. In the year he spent in Vietnam, Liam learned to appreciate the strange beauty
of the jungle, tolerate extreme heat, live with fear and become accustomed to death. He
also found a good friend in Chau, a brave and honest man who loved his country and was
determined to save it from communism, a man profoundly grateful for our support, however
ambivalent Americans were at home. Liam had often told me about his affection and regard
for Chau and wondered what became of him. One day in 1998, browsing in a book store in
Stamford, he came across a war memoir written by the army advisor who replaced him in Di
An. With mounting excitement, he turned the pages to see photos of his living quarters and
the village he remembered so well, and, best of all, of his old comrade-in-arms. Nguyen
Minh Chau, he learned, had received a silver star after being wounded a fourth time and
had escaped to California a few years after the fall of Saigon in April, 1975.
Liam called the author of the book, Lt. Col. John Cook, in Maryland, who shared his high
opinion of the district chief and gave him Chau's telephone number in California. Chau was
surprised and delighted to hear from Liam. His family had prospered and multiplied, the
lieutenant must come and see for himself.
Mrs. Chau, a pretty woman with a brilliant smile who radiated self-confidence, welcomed us
into her home. Chau, a colonel by the time he left Vietnam, limped to the door on a cane,
dragging his paralyzed right side, the result of wounds he'd suffered before Liam met him,
later compounded by a bullet in his lung and two grueling years in a North Vietnamese
prison camp.
Despite their love for their patriarch, we never saw anyone in the family help Chau get
around, as if that would compromise his dignified self-reliance. The only time we saw his
disability acknowledged was when his grandchild, a roly-poly tot with spiky hair, imitated
- to everyone's amusement - the way his grandpa walked.
Liam and Chau called each other by the names they'd used 30 years ago: "Dai Uy"
("Captain") and "Trung Uy" ("Lieutenant"). Ba Dai Uy
("Mrs. Captain") called Liam simply "Murphy."
In the corner of the living room was a Buddhist shrine, and on the walls ample testimony
to the achievement of the American Dream - six wedding photos and six graduation photos.
Five of the six Chau children had married Vietnamese and all had graduated from college.
Each had lived at home while in college, Mrs. Chau explained, to save money so that the
next could go. Now they were all Silicon Valley engineers.
After a difficult time at first, Chau had gone to work for a refugee resettlement
organization and had his own immigration consultant business. Mrs. Chau is a medical
translator at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center.
We talked as Mrs. Chau prepared spring rolls, and served us salty dried shrimp with nuoc
nam (fish sauce) and a kind of Vietnamese bouillabaisse. Chau poured cognac after cognac
reminiscing about the old days and Liam struggled manfully to keep up.
After dinner, the Chaus' sons and daughters came over with their spouses and children, as
they do every Saturday night. One son recalled riding on Liam's motorcycle when he was
about 4 years old and Mrs. Chau chastised Liam all over again for giving her such a scare.
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