He crammed his wife and five children into a plane built for two, with no radio and no plan—just the hope that somewhere in the ocean, someone would care enough to save them.On the morning of April 29, 1975, South Vietnamese Air Force Major Buang-Ly woke up knowing his country had hours left. He was stationed on Con Son Island, fifty miles off the southern coast—a prison island with a small airfield. North Vietnamese forces were closing in. The prison guards were abandoning their posts. If his family stayed, there would be no mercy for a military officer.On the tarmac sat a Cessna O-1 Bird Dog, a tiny two-seat reconnaissance plane. Major Buang-Ly looked at his wife. He looked at their five children—the youngest just fourteen months old, the oldest six. Then he made his decision.He helped them all squeeze into the backseat and storage area. He hot-wired the engine. As the overloaded plane lifted off, enemy ground fire zipped past them. He banked east toward open ocean with no destination, no radio, and only one desperate hope: that the American fleet was still out there somewhere.After thirty minutes over the South China Sea, he spotted helicopters flying in formation. He followed them straight to the USS Midway.The aircraft carrier's flight deck was chaos. Operation Frequent Wind—the largest helicopter evacuation in American military history.Then spotters noticed something different. A fixed-wing Cessna with South Vietnamese markings, circling with its landing lights on.Captain Lawrence Chambers had commanded the Midway for barely five weeks. He was the first African American to command a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier. Now he faced a decision that could end his career.The admiral aboard ordered Chambers to make the pilot ditch in the ocean. Rescue boats would pick up survivors.
