Herb Fuqua, Sun City resident, grew up in several small towns in Illinois and went to high school in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Fuqua’s parents were both officers in the Salvation Army. During the summers, Fuqua would work at the Salvation Army Camp in Camp Lake, Wisconsin. He worked alongside the girl he would marry.
“Her stunning beauty took me aback. I saw her for the first time at a Salvation Army worship meeting in Chicago playing the tambourine. Her name was Yaneth, and I thought of her often.”
Fuqua said, “I was an average student. I could have done better scholastically. However, my focus was on sports. I was captain of the team in cross-country, wrestling and baseball.”
After high school, Fuqua set his sights on the University of Minnesota, where he planned to study physical education. This was a time when every 18-year-old male had to register for the draft; not being in college meant being drafted into the U.S. Army. Then, a life-altering phone call disrupted his college plans and changed the course of his life.
“I got a call from a friend, and he said you should come to the University of Nebraska and play baseball,” he said. “I told the coach you are an outstanding player.”
Fuqua played all city and all conference with an excellent batting average. The Nebraska coach said if he made the freshman team, he would be offered a four-year scholarship. He did transfer to Nebraska, but his transcripts did not follow him. “Minnesota claimed they sent them, and Nebraska is saying we didn’t get them. I couldn’t register until they got them.”
What did come in the mail was a draft notice, and since Fuqua was not registered in college, he got drafted.
In his book, Fuqua wrote, “There were two things I knew for sure: one, God called me to be a Salvation Army officer, and two, I wanted to marry Yaneth Guerrero.” Fuqua said, “I didn’t mind getting drafted. I loved my country. I really did want to get my degree and play baseball, but I didn’t have a choice.”
Herb and Yaneth decided to get married before he left for Vietnam, even though the number of Americans getting killed each week was rising. They were married in April of 1968 by Fuqua’s dad.
The Minnesota University transcript was found later in the Nebraska office under a filing cabinet. The Salvation Army continued to touch his life. “When I got on the plane in Minnesota to go to basic training, an elderly couple handed me a small plastic bag with The Salvation Army emblem on it. Among other things the bag contained a pocket size New Testament. Their kindness really touched me.”
In the military, Fuqua earned the nickname of Preacher.
“That resulted from an incident at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. The officers and sergeants would constantly swear. I refused to repeat the language,” he said. “A sergeant asked me if I had a problem. I replied, ‘I’m trying to live for God and I don’t believe He wants me talking that way.’ The sergeant was speechless, and I was never rechallenged.”
After advanced infantry training, Fuqua was assigned to Vietnam; he got two weeks leave. He went home to say goodbye and spend time with his seven-month pregnant wife. He left for Vietnam and arrived at an airbase outside of Saigon.
“In late December 1968, on Christmas Eve we were still in a large base camp waiting to be assigned to a combat unit. I thought of what I would be doing if I were back home. I would be playing my horn at a Salvation Army red kettle. I was homesick and feeling alone. I prayed and God answered by sending a flatbed truck slowly passing by with a brass ensemble playing Christmas carols. Trotting along beside the truck I asked the cornet player what music books they were using. You guessed it. They were playing from The Salvation Army Christmas band books,” Fuqua said.
In February, Fuqua got the news that 10 days earlier he had become a father. Jennifer was born on February 24, 1969.
Fuqua was assigned to the 25th Infantry Division where he carried an M-60 machine gun.
In his book, Fuqua writes, “I should have died on June 19. We had no protection and the enemy machine gunner’s bullets were slicing through the grass all around Pete [another soldier] and me. God blessed us with a miracle. Neither of us got shot.”
Leaving Vietnam, Fuqua said, “You are grateful to have survived, thankful to be going home. The new soldiers just arriving are disembarking the very plane that will be taking you home. You wish you could somehow let them know what lies ahead of them. But there is no time to talk…just silent eye contact. And then I got on that plane, and I felt safe. Once home, I realized it wasn’t safe to talk about Vietnam as it often stirred up heated controversy. However, I have never changed my views.”
He returned home as Sargent Fuqua and was awarded the Army Commendation Medal for Valor, two Air Medals for over 50 helicopter flights into hostile forces, and the Combat Infantry Badge. Fuqua is a disabled veteran suffering severe hearing loss from combat and is today battling cancer as a result of exposure to Agent Orange.
He was ordained as a minister with The Salvation Army. Their daughters, Jennifer and Yvette, along with their husbands, are in ministry with The Salvation Army as well. He has five grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.
“My girls, Jennifer and Yvette, encouraged me to write this book. Jennifer was my editor. The title came from Psalm 118, the psalmist said of God, ‘You are my strength, my song, my salvation.’ When I was in Vietnam, I needed strength beyond my own. Facing combat, danger, and death were tough days but God was my constant strength and my song. My experience with God in Vietnam has given me for all the rest of my life, complete trust in Jesus no matter what the situation.”
Fuqua’s book, My Strength, My Song, is about his spiritual journey while serving in Vietnam. It is available on Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com and Xulonpress.com.
