50 years ago today, I got a summons to the Ho Chi Minh City office of the Foreign Affairs ministry of the new Socialist Republic, where I was informed that in 72 hours, the government would no longer be able to guarantee my safety.
Which was their method of kicking me out of Vietnam with plausible deniability that, oh heck no, we didn't kick you out.
In the event... I stuck around for seven more days, attended the First National Day Celebration and parade under communist control on September 2 and left on September 3 on a chartered UTA Caravelle for Bangkok.
I was greeted by my (now-late) wife and twin boys and two pleasant and helpful U.S. embassy information-seekers, both of whom became my friends.
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