In early 1975, there was still very little bombing in Saigon. Although my father was a well known politician, I was protected from the realities of the war, as my parents always kept us wrapped in cotton wool – I was 18 years old, and preparing to go to France to go to university. Then one day, we were told we were going to stay at the coast with my grandparents while our parents stayed in town. My father said to me, ‘Every day, when you swim at the beach, just use the binoculars and see if the American war ships . . .
In early 1975, there was still very little bombing in Saigon. Although my father…
