in vietnam i found peace
On July 21, 1954, Vietnam was split into two parts—the communist North and the capitalist South. The U.S. reacted by sending more sons to Vietnam, plunging into a war where success was gauged by the fallen, the body count of the North Vietnamese Army. Driven by the illusion of saving South Vietnam from communist rule, the youth joined in. However, as years passed and the grim reality unfolded, patriotism waned, giving rise to anti-war protests fueled by the surge of new media and technology, exposing human rights violations. On April 30, 1975, Saigon fell to the communist North, marking the official end of the war for the United States. Once hailed as heroes, American soldiers returned home, haunted by the nightmares of war, only to face societal condemnation as baby killers, psychos, and drug addicts for years.
Four decades later, those young soldiers are now elderly men. Time erases many details of their lives, but the scars of Vietnam remain vivid. Feelings of guilt and powerlessness persist, and a silent killer emerges—suicide. A study by the Office of Mental Health and Suicide Prevention reveals that the number of Vietnam War veterans who took their own lives exceeds the number of those who fell during the war itself.
The haunting mental illness afflicting many veterans is known as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). It reveals itself through sleep disturbances, irritability, concentration difficulties, and heightened alertness. Flashbacks and anxiety attacks plague the daytime, while the trauma resurfaces in dreams at night. Some veterans find solace by confronting their past, choosing to return or permanently move to Vietnam. Only by daily exposure to the place of their suffering can they confront and attempt to overcome their trauma. Today, these veterans call Vietnam home, not the United States.
Bill Harris (70) was a security police officer in Cam Ranh for two years. Since 1996 he has been living in Vietnam.
A source of solace for Bill lies within the black market, the Dan Sinh Market, in Ho Chi Minh City. "It's like being a kid in a candy store," Bill shares during our visit, the memories of war and guilt notwithstanding. The old war relics within offer him a sense of familiarity, a connection that transcends the haunting past.
As a young man returning to the US from Vietnam, Bill Harris left his Vietnamese family behind. Two decades later, he revisited Vietnam, located them with the help of a fixer, and supported his daughter in opening a motorcycle shop. In gratitude, his family forgave him and built a house for him. Bill regrets his wartime departure but occasionally finds solace in forgetting the past. "Sometimes you have to stop and smell the flowers," he shared, interrupting our interview to savor a moment of simple beauty.
When Bill isn't with his Vietnamese family in Cam Ranh or at the Hotel California in Ho Chi Minh City, he hits the road on his scooter, retracing the steps of the young American men during the war. Riding through Vietnam for years, he captures the essence of these places with a helmet-mounted camera, sharing the journey with his veteran comrades back in the United States through the Facebook group "Vietnam: Through the eyes of my brothers and sisters," boasting over 600 members. This endless stream of photos and videos offers a contemporary glimpse into Vietnam today. Bill's sense of restlessness, fueled by this mission, anchors him firmly in the present.
David Clark (69) was stationed as a Marine near the Marble Mountains for a year. Since 2010 he has been living in Vietnam.
Seven years later, David and Ushi organized motorcycle trips through Vietnam for Veterans for Peace. After each tour, members contribute to war-relief projects. David shares that during these yearly tours, he witnessed both anti-war and pro-war individuals coming together emotionally. His own motorbike is a Chinese replica of a Harley Davidson.
In 1968, David Clark never anticipated sharing his life with a Vietnamese woman. Now, he and his wife, Ushi Clark (57), have been happily married for three and a half years, residing together in a house in Da Nang.
The Da Nang Center for Victims of Agent Orange (DAVA) cares for those affected by the aftermath of the Vietnam War. David (age not provided) and his wife Ushi, along with fellow veteran Matthew Keenan (68), regularly visit the center for tango afternoons. David, helping Phuong Nguyen (39), a second-generation victim of Agent Orang, prepare for a ride on a motorbike with Matthew, showcases the importance of mutual support in overcoming the past.
Chuck Searcy (73) served for one year as an intelligence analyst at the Combined Intelligence Center Vietnam (CICV). Since 1999 he has been living in Vietnam.
In 1995, Chuck Searcy was sent to Vietnam by the American Veterans organization Vietnam Veterans Memorial Foundation (VVMF). Alongside American specialists and Vietnamese doctors from the Vietnam National Children Hospital, he developed a program providing artificial limbs to children with birth defects.
The total number of people injured or killed in Vietnam since the end of the war is unknown, but the program has supported over 20,000 children.
In 2001, Chuck founded Project RENEW to locate and clean up explosive devices in Vietnam. 2017 was the first year without anyone being killed by an unexploded ordnance in North Central Vietnam.
Nguyen Ngoc Hung (70) fought as a North Vietnamese soldier for six years and was one of the first North Vietnamese to visit the United States in 1999.
Few sites, like the Cu Chi Tunnels, serve as reminders of the war. Tourists visit to reflect on the past and can take guided tours into the tunnels for a firsthand experience.
Today, Ho-Chi-Minh City, much like the rest of the country, is rapidly developing.
The Vietnamese community has found a way to support each other when there is very little official support available. This DIY wheelchair is made out of a plastic chair.
On a highway near Ho-Chi-Minh, I found a Statue of Liberty replica—a testament to the enduring influence of American pop culture.
Even 40 years later, veterans remain caught between the past and the present. To symbolize this divide on an experimental level, red and blue became tools, illuminating an old story in a new light. With closed eyes, veterans recalled pivotal moments from the past, resulting in raw experimental portraits of men who found peace.
These aged military relics underscore the considerable time that has passed since the end of the war. In the era when American troops were in Vietnam, Danang served as a bustling aircraft hub and a destination for rest and recreation. China Beach, once famous for its war history, is now dominated by lavish luxury hotels and golf courses. Nearby, Tams Pub and Surf Shop often serves as the initial point of contact for Americans seeking to reconnect with their past in Da Nang. The owner, a former translator who closely worked with American soldiers, has an enduring admiration for all things American. The restaurant's walls are adorned with images of the Vietnam War, and relics, including pieces of uniforms and weapons, find a second life in a shrine at the pub.