There was a great panic one day when a peasant woman had appeared. I never got the story exactly straight but it appeared she had been sent by a member of the family who was a colonel in the Viet Cong, a doctor I believe, who was asking for some financial help as the Americans had bombed his home.
Our son was born around this time. I know I had been woken up many a night with false alarms. In any case it was decidedly dodgy to drive through Saigon at two o'clock in the morning to try to get to the hospital. One was likely to get shot up by the People's Self Defense Force and end up in the morgue. There was this fellow I read about in an air conditioned car, windows up, listening to his radio, who failed to hear an order to stop and was shot dead. That was in the day time. There were many incidents of the police chasing robbers, firing in the air to make them stop, and the bullet falling back to earth and killing them!
One morning I told KC to check into the hospital as I didn't want to find her home when I got back. The maid stayed with her in the day and I stayed overnight. One never left anybody alone in a hospital. The following day I went off to see some friends and when I got back it was all over so everything worked out in an organized fashion. Anyway the last person one wants around at a time like that was the husband.
There were only three hospitals in Saigon. The Hôpital Grall, which was run by the French military and The Clinique St. Paul which KC had chosen and was Vietnamese. Some American organization, religious I believe, had taken over the former American 3rd Field Hospital at Tan Son Nhut, but I knew very little about it. There was of course an acute shortage of hospitals. There was a team of English doctors and nurses at The Children's hospital at Cholon, but the nurses were involved in a crash with their jeep near My Tho and rather badly hurt.