Earliest News story would have to be the same as the OP. Vietfuckingnam. I was 5 going on 6 when Saigon fell. My stepfather who had retired from the USMC the year before, after serving in both Korea and Vietnam was glued to the Zenith for hours. He was not enjoying what he was seeing. The tension in the house was palpable.
As for general memories, I remember small things from as young as 2. My first very clear and distinct memory is of moving from the house we lived in when I was born to a new, much bigger house in an unfinished development in 1972. I was 3. I remember the moving van we rented, big and green, with two elephant's (mother and child) on each side. I remember having a picnic on the bare living room floor on the first day of moving. My brother, sisters and I all sat in a circle around a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken (long, long before they abbreviated it down to KFC). I even remember the wooden strips with the bazillion nails stcking up through them at the base of each stair that were anchor points for the gaed awful 1970s gold shag carpet that was installed throughout the home in the following days.