Hanoi/Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam – April 30, 2025, marks the 50th anniversary of the fall of Saigon, a pivotal moment that ended the Vietnam War and reshaped the lives of millions. As Vietnam reflects on this significant date, stories of personal loss, resilience, and the struggle for identity emerge from the shadows of history.
Victoria Ngo, a child of war refugees, shares her journey of self-discovery and the complexities of her Vietnamese identity. Growing up in a Chinese-speaking community in the United States, Ngo only began to explore her Vietnamese heritage during her college years in the 1990s. Her father, a high school principal in South Vietnam, was placed in reeducation camps after the war before fleeing to the U.S. in 1978 with his family.
“I lived with people who only spoke Chinese. My siblings and I went to Chinese school on the weekends,” Ngo told Al Jazeera. “I also speak Vietnamese, and my name is a Vietnamese name. My experience is very much a Vietnamese experience in the sense that I came as a refugee.” However, discussions about Vietnam and the war were often met with resistance in her family. “If you go to that conference, you are not my daughter!” her father had told her when she expressed interest in learning more about their history.
Many Vietnamese families, like Ngo’s, carry the weight of unspoken histories. The fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975, not only marked the end of a devastating war but also the beginning of a painful separation for those who fled the country. With the reunification of North and South Vietnam, many who had served the US-backed government chose exile over living under a regime they could not accept.
In the aftermath of the war, Vietnam was left in ruins. The US-backed conflicts in Indochina had resulted in catastrophic loss of life, with estimates suggesting that the death toll in Vietnam alone reached around 3.1 million people, including military personnel and civilians from both sides. The use of chemical agents like Agent Orange has had lasting effects, with millions affected by its toxicity, including 150,000 children born with severe defects.
Cat Nguyen, a poet based in Ho Chi Minh City, echoes similar sentiments of generational trauma. “My family, in particular my grandma, harbored deep pain from her past,” Nguyen shared. With a family history divided between revolutionary supporters and government officials of South Vietnam, Nguyen’s upbringing was steeped in the complexities of their shared history. “The first few years in the US were filled with sadness for them: difficulties adjusting to a strange land,” Nguyen explained.
As Vietnam celebrates the 50th anniversary of the war’s end, the Communist Party frames the day as one of liberation and unity, a narrative that often overlooks the experiences of those who fled. The perspectives of South Vietnamese refugees remain largely absent from official histories, leading to feelings of erasure and resentment among those who left.
In early 2023, Hanni Pham, an Australian-Vietnamese singer, found herself embroiled in controversy for displaying the South Vietnamese flag, a symbol still taboo in modern Vietnam. This incident highlights the ongoing tensions surrounding the country’s divided past and the challenges of reconciling different narratives.
John Morgan, a veteran who assisted with the Vietnam War evacuation, reflects on his experiences during Operation Frequent Wind, which began on April 29, 1975. “I’m not happy about being subjected to possibly being killed when I thought a war was already over,” Morgan recalled. Yet, he takes pride in his role in saving lives during the chaotic evacuation, which saw over 1,000 Americans and 5,500 locals flee Saigon.
As the war drew to a close, many South Vietnamese felt abandoned by the US. Ambassador Graham Martin’s refusal to leave delayed evacuations, leading to a sense of betrayal among those left behind. Morgan’s reflections reveal the complex emotions tied to the war, as he grapples with the legacy of his service amidst a backdrop of protests against the conflict.
For many veterans, the memories of the fall of Saigon are bittersweet. Chester Reed, who served two tours in Southeast Asia, has forged an unexpected bond with Dr. Vinh Chung, a dermatologist whose family fled Vietnam after the war. “When Saigon fell in April of 1975, my mother was pregnant with me,” Chung shared. His family, ethnic Chinese business owners, lost everything and faced perilous journeys as refugees.
“You can’t control the paths of your lives,” Chung stated, emphasizing the importance of kindness in navigating their shared history. Reed echoed this sentiment, highlighting the lessons learned from war and survival. “Just treat everybody like you want to be treated,” he advised, a reminder of the humanity that persists despite the scars of conflict.
As Vietnam commemorates the 50th anniversary of the fall of Saigon, the country stands at a crossroads. The narratives of the past continue to shape the identities of those who lived through the war and those who fled its aftermath. The official celebrations may herald unity, but for many, the memories of loss and separation linger, demanding recognition and understanding.
In a world still grappling with the consequences of war and displacement, the stories of refugees and veterans alike remind us of the resilience of the human spirit. As Vietnam moves forward, the lessons of the past remain vital to fostering empathy and compassion in a society still healing from its wounds.
