Fall of Saigon, 46 years on: The trauma still lingers through the second generation in Australia

Even though more than four decades have passed since the Fall of Saigon, also known as just April 30, second-generation migrants from the Vietnamese community in Australia continue to feel the effects of that fateful event in 1975.

Thuý Phượng's family at the refugee camp in Japan

Thuy Phuong's family at the refugee camp in Japan, before arriving in Australia. Source: Thuy Phuong

For many people who were born and raised in Australia and have no first-hand experience of the event, The Fall of Saigon has in some part shaped their lives, families, and beliefs.

On April 30, 1975, the army of the communist North Vietnamese rolled into the capital of South Vietnam, Saigon.

The event marked the end of the bloody Vietnam War and saw a wave of people leave the country as refugees. As a result, thousands moved to Australia as refugees during the late ‘70s and ‘80s.
In this April 30, 1975 file photo, a North Vietnamese tank rolls through the gates of the Presidential Palace in Saigon
In this April 30, 1975 file photo, a North Vietnamese tank rolls through the gates of the Presidential Palace in Saigon. Source: AP
Born in a refugee camp in Japan following the war, Thuy Phuong's family relocated to Australia.

She graduated from university with a degree in psychology and works in the HR industry in Melbourne. 

She also co-authored a children's book called ‘Confident Coco’ which discusses the role of parents and grandparents in building self-esteem in children.
Thúy Phượng with husband and son
Thuy Phuong with her husband and son. Source: Thúy Phượng

‘The day we lost our country’

Thuy Phuong says that despite being raised in Australia, the events of April 30, 1975, shaped her upbringing. This became clearer a few years back, as she recalls from an experience.

“I recall taking a taxi home many years ago, not something I normally do. It just happened to be April 30. The taxi driver was a Vietnamese man about my dad's age. He asked me if I knew what day it was and for some reason I did. My response to him was 'ngay mat nuoc', or ‘the day we lost our country’,” she said. 

“I don't know how I knew that, but the point I am trying to make is our parents and the previous generations do pass things onto us, directly and indirectly, that impact us and our experiences.”
Thuý Phượng with her parents and brothers in Australia
Thuy Phuong with her parents and brothers in Australia. Source: Thuý Phượng
She told SBS Vietnamese that April 30 is rarely mentioned in her family. 

It is likely that when her parents arrived in Australia to start a new life, they wanted to move on from the past like many other refugees have done and forgotten all the sufferings and losses they experienced, to focus on building their family and raising their children. 

But the losses they experienced are still felt, and Thuy Phuong believes they will continue to affect the next generations, one way or another. 

“I remember when I was younger, my dad referred to it as 'ngay mat nuoc' on the rare occasion he did talk about it. 

“Although we didn’t really talk about it, I could sense it was a sad day, and learnt that talking about it was perhaps too painful. So, I never really asked my parents about it.”
Thúy Phượng with husband and son
Thuy Phuong with her husband and son. Source: Thúy Phượng

Learning to ‘bury feelings’

According to Thuy Phuong, at first glance, the events of April 30 didn’t seem to have much effect on her parents. She said they seemed to have moved on to create a better life in Australia.

“My parents [...] have continued to live, trying to create a better life for themselves and their children, including me and my brothers," she said. 

“But I don’t think people can experience war without it impacting them in significant ways.” 

However, she is adamant that for many, the trauma lays dormant. 

“I remember I went on a holiday many years ago and fell down a long flight of steps, more than 10 or 20 steps. I luckily managed to walk away with just a cut knee. However, I was quite shaken by that experience and for a long time after that, and even sometimes now, when I am about to walk down any stairs, my body freezes. The trauma is not forgotten,” she said. 

“The effect I see in my parents and a lot of Vietnamese parents of that generation is they worry. I understand all parents worry and as a parent myself, I worry too. However, I think because they are so used to life being hard, they tend to see the danger and risk in everything, even when you try to share the good news with them. 

“And my generation grew up learning to accept not talking about the past, and to a certain extent to bury our feelings.”
Thúy Phượng with husband and son
Source: Thúy Phượng

Questioning one’s identity

Many Vietnamese refugees who fled the country after 1975 have continued to suffer from post-war trauma. 

Many feel they have no place to return to which they can call their homeland.

Many came to Australia as refugees and called it their second homeland, but they are still Vietnamese by birth, and because of that, many feel self-contradictory, and experience struggles about their identity. 

This contradiction also affects the second generation. Thuy Phuong said others would sometimes question her identity. 

“I am very proud of my Vietnamese heritage and identify as Vietnamese. But as I’ve grown up in Australia and spent most of my life here, I identify as Australian too.

“At the end of uni, I did some volunteer work with a kid camp and a little girl asked me where I was from. I still remember the look of confusion on her face when I told her I was Australian. 

“Over the years, I’ve come to understand my identity is complex and is an intersection of a number of things including being female, Vietnamese, and second-generation Australian.”  

She believes that it’s important for the community not to “shy away from history”.

“When I think about April 30 and the Fall of Saigon, I think of my parents and the impossibly difficult decision they made to leave their family, friends, and country behind. 

“My friends and I often talk about how strong and brave our parents are in doing that. Something we can’t even begin to imagine doing at their age. 

“We hear a lot about post-traumatic stress and I think it starts with talking. Talking can be therapeutic and helpful. There may be opportunities for the person and the people around them to learn and grow from past experiences. Although I do acknowledge how heartbreaking the past and this day can be for many.” 

As a mother, she’s trying to understand what she may be carrying inside herself and how it would someday affect her son. 

She plans to let her son know someday that he is Vietnamese-Australian but carrying Vietnamese blood and Vietnamese heritage. 

“I am reading a book, ‘A Time to Remember’ to learn more about my parents’ experience and be able to share those stories with my son. It was written by someone who was in the same refugee camp as my parents.
The book 'A time to remember'
The book 'A time to Remember'. Source: Thuý Phượng
“I want my son to know about his Vietnamese heritage, so I think it’s important to give him the broader context. That means sharing stories about the Vietnam War, the Fall of Saigon, what it meant for his grandparents, and how they arrived in Australia. 

“I think it's important that we don’t shy away from history. As an optimist, I will always look at the positives.”


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7 min read
Published 30 April 2021 12:04pm
Updated 30 April 2021 12:07pm
By Hương Lan


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