Vietnam Reflections (1963-2025) Veteran USAF Major General Dick Carr
- Christina DeSantis
- 2 days ago
- 6 min read
Vietnam Reflections (1963-2025)
By Major General Richard "Dick" Carr, USAF (ret.) — USAFA Class of 1959
For more than sixty years, Vietnam has remained a place of memory, contrast, and unfinished questions for me. As a young Air Force officer in 1963, I stepped into a country on the edge of conflict—one still shaped by French colonial influence, bicycles crowding the streets, and a war that had not yet become America’s own. Decades later, he returned to find a nation transformed beyond recognition, yet still marked by echoes of the past.
His reflections bridge two Vietnams: the one he served in as a pilot and advisor, and the modern nation rising with remarkable speed. What follows is my firsthand account of that journey—then and now.
1963: A Land of Bicycles and Advisors
When I first entered Vietnam in 1963, the country appeared decades behind the Western world. Saigon’s traffic was a sea of bicycles and cyclos, and the hospitality industry consisted of older French-designed hotels whose colonial influence was unmistakable.
At the time, the conflict was a guerrilla war against the Viet Cong. Only about 5,000 U.S. military personnel were in-country, mostly working serving as advisors to the South Vietnamese military. That was my role. I taught and advised Vietnam Air Force students in flying and Forward Air Control (FAC).
I was stationed in Nha Trang, a beautiful setting on the South China Sea with a wide horseshoe beach and a jungle-covered island dominating the harbor. In 1963, Nha Trang was a quiet fishing village of just 16,000 people, known for fishing and French summer homes. I still recall the local flavor—dining at French restaurants like Fregat and Fransuas—and the ever-present reality of the war, such as local soldiers catching Viet Cong heading into town on R&R passes.
Life in Saigon was busy but relatively predictable—until November 1963. I had been sent there on a mission, and the day after completing my work, I packed my small bag to depart. However, I was stopped from leaving the hotel by armed soldiers. A few fellow pilots and I decided to head to the rooftop bar with a six-pack. From that vantage point, we watched history unfold as tanks filled the streets and a red-tailed T-28 bombed the Presidential Palace. The Diem coup had begun, signaling a turning point of the conflict that would define a generation.
2008: The First Return
Forty-five years passed before I returned to Vietnam. Landing at Hanoi’s Noi Bai Airport in 2008, I was struck by the preservation of history. The airport entry hall still displayed the name and throne of the last emperor of Vietnam. The city retained the echoes of the French architecture, small hotels, mom-and-pop businesses, and the cyclo traffic of my youth, yet the scars of the war were on full display.
I visited the Hanoi Hilton, finding it reduced to half its original size and structure to make room for the modern Hanoi Tower office building. The infamous area called the Yard was gone, yet the interior remained a gruesome reminder of the POW experience.
The B-52 Museum was equally eye opening, with enough aircraft parts on display to build about four B-52s. I walked past an arc of captured AAA guns and surface-to-air missiles, standing before a MIG-21 credited with three kills and photos of “atrocities” taken from U.S. newspapers framing a narrative of American Invaders.
The small details of daily life in the streets caught my eye. The economy was small-scale. Gasoline for motorbikes was still sold in one- and two-liter glass bottles—"think Coke bottles"—and poured directly into tanks. People on the street appeared mostly indifferent or even a bit cold toward us. Yet as we proceeded south from Hanoi, the affluence increased noticeably with each city.
2025: A Landscape Transformed
By 2025, the nation’s transformation was astonishing. From the 900-foot-tall Lotte Hotel in Hanoi, I looked out toward West Lake and realized that the building now stood directly in the path of the bombing runs where pilots like John McCain were shot down.
The quiet fishing villages of my youth had given way to the "Vin" era. Pham Nhat Vuong (Mr. Vin), Vietnam's first billionaire, transformed once-uninhabited islands like Nha Trang into sprawling VinPearl resorts and golf courses. Pham Nhat Vuong was born in 1968 in Hanoi and was sent to the Ukraine, USSR for his education. While there, he started a noodle shop and dehydrated food production which made a lot of money. Returning to Vietnam, he became interested in real estate. His VinGroup conglomerate now touches nearly every aspect of Vietnamese life, including the VinFast electric auto company, whose vehicles we saw throughout Hanoi.
In Ho Chi Minh City, the transformation was equally jarring. The streets once clogged with cyclos and bicycles were now crowded with Lexus and Land Rover vehicles. New high-rises and factories signaled growing investment. Yet, some things remained unchanged: the locals still call District One “Saigon”, and the Rex Hotel—the former Bachelor Officers Quarters (BOQ) for American officers—still operates its rooftop bar, decorated with pictures of the Friday Night Follies press briefings. The hotels have the same names as they did in the sixties. The Opera House, Bazaar, and Notre Dame Cathedral remain open and have not changed.
Closing the Circle
The most emotional moment of my 2025 journey occurred at the War Remnants Museum. It includes many tanks, guns and aircraft the north captured in 1975. There, among the captured aircraft, I came face-to-face with a U-17A. Upon checking the tail number, I realized it was the actual tail number of a plane I had flown during my first tour.
Vietnam now sees so much business and tourist travel that the government is moving Tan Son Nhut International Airport operations to the old U.S. base at Bien Hoa. During our trip, Kelly and I boarded a 36-passenger boat and sailed down the Saigon River to the Mekong, passing through many villages on the way to Cambodia. One notable stop, Kampong Cham, triggered a vivid memory of the war's end, when I accidentally encountered over a hundred North Vietnamese trucks on Route 13 and faced intense fire from about twenty 37mm heavy anti-aircraft guns.
Ultimately, I am struck by the country’s resilience. There is a bustling energy of the people, a presence of stores like those in New York or Chicago, and an absence of beggars on the streets. The heavy police and military presence common in other Communist nations is largely missing here. As I departed from this second return trip, I found myself pondering a profound question for all who served:
“What would this look like if we had never come?”.
I would encourage anyone to take a tour of Vietnam and see for yourself what the people and country are like and draw your own conclusions.
About the Author
Major General Richard E. Carr is a distinguished member of the USAFA Class of 1959. A command pilot with over 7,500 flying hours, he is a veteran of the Vietnam War, where he flew over 200 combat missions, 900 flying combat hours, and earned the Distinguished Flying Cross and 12 Air Medals.
His career includes senior intelligence and reconnaissance roles, including Director for Foreign Intelligence at the DIA during the onset of Desert Shield and he held high-level positions including Chief of Staff for the UN Command/US Combined Forces Command in Seoul.
Today, General Carr remains deeply committed to his fellow service members. As a Vietnam veteran himself, he is actively involved in working with and supporting Vietnam Veterans organizations, ensuring that honor and the "bridge" of support for those who served remains strong.
