A quiet passageway in Spoleto, Umbria.  I snapped this while gallivanting across Italy with some colleagues on a CLE junket.  The best way to earn your hours, folks.

One immutable truth looms over everything I do: if you can’t tell me where your defendant is, I can’t get him served for you.*

I couldn’t be more serious– “where?” is the most important question I ever ask a client.  There are precisely four variations on the answers.  Continue Reading Good, bad, or unknown addresses… and the Hague Service Convention.

Pernillan — via Wikimedia Commons.

And most of them have been all along.

Aside from a few notable blips (such as Italy and Spain, which bore the earliest surge of Covid-19 cases in the west, and India, which has been pummeled), Hague Central Authorities around the world kept doing the job even through lockdowns and quarantines.  Commentary that I still get from clients and prospective clients is simply baffling.

“I had a process server tell me that Central Authorities are closed and that nobody’s doing anything.”

(So Aaron shakes his head.  Again.)

No.  Just… no.

For starters, go beyond your process server and talk to actual lawyers who deal with cross-border procedure daily.  Continue Reading YES. THEY’RE STILL OPEN.

A Dissatisfied Litigant, 1845, by Honoré Daumier (1808-1879).

Most people understand that attorneys’ ethical rules prohibit us from advising another lawyer’s client because it can so easily interfere with the attorney-client relationship.  More difficult to explain, though, is why I cannot help individuals who pursue legal action in courts of law on their own.  Hopefully, this will clear things up a bit.

These folks pursuing redress on their own are called pro se (pronounced “pro-SAY”) litigants, or sometimes pro per litigants.  Their lack of counsel has no bearing on the validity or magnitude of their claim– indeed, there are thousands of individuals who simply cannot afford a lawyer or do not qualify for assistance from Legal Aid organizations or other services.  Absent a lawyer, no attorney-client relationship exists, so I can’t interfere with it.

Still, there are two very specific reasons why I still can’t talk to you:  

Continue Reading Pro se litigants… why I can’t advise you directly.

I give you… phở, (pronounced FUH, as in “fun”)  the most amazing bowl of soup in the solar system and, coincidentally, the national dish of Vietnam. North or south, it’s amazing.  No, really– love yourself enough to eat this stuff on the regular.  Codename5281 via Wikimedia Commons.

For most of my childhood, Vietnam was considered an enemy state– run by a totalitarian regime worthy of America’s scorn.  My parents’ generation fought a brutal war there, and endured a bitter division about that war here at home.  The whole idea of Vietnam was a painful wound in our nation’s psyche.  Mercifully, that changed in 1995 when Senator John McCain (R-Ariz.), who had spent seven years as a prisoner of war in the infamous “Hanoi Hilton”, argued successfully that we should normalize relations.  It was (and remains), after all, a country filled with amazing people and a culture that goes back millennia.  [Around the time President Clinton did normalize relations that same year, I discovered my all-time favorite lunch at a great little family joint in my hometown.  See above.]  But I digress.  On to business…

Since October, 2016, serving process in Vietnam has been subject to the strictures of the Hague Service Convention, regardless of which U.S. or Canadian venue is hearing the matter.

You’ve got three ways to go:

  1. Tap us on the shoulder for bespoke attention—and probably some amusing commentary to boot (see the upper right if you’re on a desktop, or way down below if you’re on a phone/tablet),
  2. Cruise over to the Hague Envoy platform at USM94.com to automate the completion of your forms in perhaps twenty minutes or so, or
  3. If you’re feeling froggy & would like to handle the whole thing yourself, keep reading.  This lays out the framework you’ll need.

Some background is in order, if you’re so inclined, before we cut to the chase.

  • The roadmap to the overall process—the recipe to our Secret Sauce.
  • The structure of the Convention itself is discussed in this four-part series.
  • And an absolutely critical note: the Hague Service Convention does not pertain to subpoenas, at least, not with any coercive effect.  Repeat after me—you can’t just SERVE a subpoena in Vietnam.  You have to file a Letter Rogatory, roughly similar to a Hague Evidence Request (although Vietnam is not party to the Hague Evidence Convention).  The same Cardinal Rules apply—this is dramatically different from serving a summons or notice.

Now, here’s how it’s done in Vietnam:

Article 5 Service

  • Translate the documents, and provide a signed certification from the translator. Vietnam’s declaration to Article 5(3) requires it and, although the defendant may speak flawless English, omitting translated documents will prompt the Central Authority to reject your request.
  • Fill out a USM-94. Be very careful about ensuring that it is complete and concise, and make sure that it is signed by a court official or an attorney.  If it is not, make sure that the person signing is commissioned by the court.
  • Send to the Central Authority in Hanoi.
  • Sit tight. It may take a while—likely several months from submission to return of proof.

Article 10 alternative methods

  • Mail service is available, provided the delivery requires a signed receipt, but I’ve always argued that it’s a bad idea anyway for precisely that reason.  If you do select this route, pay particular attention to the venue court’s rules about how mail service is initiated—in federal cases, adhere strictly to FRCP 4(f)(2)(C)(ii).
  • Engaging “other competent persons” under Article 10(b) or 10(c)?  Nope.  Sorry.

Seriously—that’s all there is to it in Vietnam.  The method is straightforward and simple.

Vietnam’s declarations and Central Authority information can be found here.

Bonus practice tip… if you’re defense counsel, always question the validity of service effected on your overseas client.  The plaintiff may not have done it correctly.

Always keep in a safe place… especially if there’s a chance the holder might be abducted.

[The TL;DR of this post: get in touch with Melissa Kucinski for help in international abduction cases.]

Well over two years ago, in “The Hague Child Abduction Convention applies first” I posted a bit about that Convention’s primacy when a lawyer calls me for help in serving process in custody actions.  Where a parent has taken his/her child(ren) abroad contrary to the other parent’s wishes, or wrongfully retained the child(ren) abroad, merely pursuing a custody order in the U.S. is rarely the right first step.  Continue Reading The Hague Child Abduction Convention: who to call

[Author’s note: see Prof. Bill Dodge’s excellent– and more academic– take on this topic in “The Impossibility of Schrödinger Service” over at the Transnational Litigation Blog, May 7, 2025.  The cat can be dead, or it can be alive.  It can’t be both.]

Every once in a while, when a colleague is stymied by limitations to serving an offshore defendant, the thought comes to mind that “hey, I might try to get leave of court to serve the defendant’s U.S. counsel.”  It’s a great idea, and if the judge signs off on it, I don’t see how it could be unreasonable under the Mullane standard.  Getting to that point, though, is often done in an entirely wrong way: using FRCP Rule 4(f)(3) as a basis for the motion.

Why is that entirely wrong?  Because 4(f)(3) doesn’t apply if service doesn’t take place abroad.  Continue Reading Service on U.S. counsel doesn’t arise from Rule 4(f)(3).

User Beneffin via Wikimedia Commons

For most lawyers human beings, it’s been a goofy three months (we’re now well into the Covid-19 pandemic).  Amid the quarantine, I’ve been incredibly fortunate to see my firm’s workload go up, but millions of my fellow Americans, including a whole bunch of lawyers, have seen their income and savings vaporize in a matter of hours.  Even as I’ve gotten busier, I’ve begun to more diligently follow the advice of one of my favorite law professors, who insisted that a good attorney absolutely must read the news, religiously.  I quit being a newshound some time ago, but lately, that has come to seem more irresponsible every day.

Continue Reading Preference payments and service abroad

In a single day last week, Week Ten of America’s Covid-19 quarantine, I fielded essentially the same oddly segmented inquiry from three different lawyers across the country.  A rather disconcerting inquiry, to say the least.

“Hey, Aaron.  I’ve got an overseas defendant to serve.  I’ve talked to some process servers who tell me that you can’t personally serve anybody overseas right now, so I should just serve by mail.”

When I interject to tell them that, no, that’s a bad idea…

“But they say the Water Splash decision makes it okay.  That’s right, isn’t it?”

Oh, where to begin?  No, no, and no.

Continue Reading No, Water Splash isn’t a gift to litigators.

American Cemetery, Normandy.  (Photo by the author.)

My inbox is oddly flooded this morning.  Not with the usual client inquiries (it’s a holiday, after all), but with the normal spate of promotional emails and law firm newsletters I’ve come to expect on most statutory days off.  Sure, we’ve commercialized the heck out of every holiday, but that’s happened for centuries.  For retailers and restaurants to market their wares and fares on such days becomes much less bothersome as I get older.  What is more bothersome every year is the habit of wishing the recipient a “happy” Memorial Day in the subject header.

Continue Reading A solemn– not “happy”– occasion.