An experience no one could imagine Warren served as a deckhand in Vietnam

Frederick Warren spent his life pushed to attend school and further his education. During a break from school, he was drafted into the Army during the Vietnam War.

Warren was 19 years old when he entered service in 1970 after taking a break from college.

“I was an all-American boy,” Warren said. “I had gotten a scholarship to college (Alabama State University), and I played an instrument. I played in the band when I went to school.

“I left there (around February) in my junior year before I graduated. Some things happened, and I had to sit out for about two or three months.”

He and his family believed that he would return to school during the summer, but within two weeks of being home, he received a life-changing letter.

The day he learned of the letter, he was visiting friends in Montgomery. He returned home that same day.

“I had to go in about 23 days after that, March 23, 1970,” Warren said. “I’ll never forget it.”

He called basic training at Fort Bragg, N. C., “a nightmare.”

“When I got to basic training, I thought I was being punished,” Warren said. “I thought the Lord was punishing me for something. Being kind of active, the physical part wasn’t a problem.”

About a month into basic training, Warren was told to report to the band director. He said the band director learned of his experience playing brass instruments like trumpets.

During his meeting with the director, Warren was asked to play a few pieces of music. After playing, he was sent back to his company.

After basic training, he said he went straight to Advanced Infantry Training at Fort Lee in Virginia.

“A lot of people went home,” Warren said. “I didn’t go home; I went to communication school in Fort Lee, Va.”

While at Fort Lee, Warren said the band director there asked to meet with him. During this meeting, he, again, played a few pieces of music before being sent back to the company.

“Two weeks before I graduated, I was called back to the band room,” Warren said. “The band director said, ‘I’ve got everything in order for you.’”

According to Warren, the band director offered him an opportunity to sign up for Special Forces, which would require him to serve for three years instead of two. He turned down the offer.

After AIT, he returned home before traveling to San Fransisco then Vietnam, which he ironically called “The Good Country.”

“I thought the Army was an experience,” Warren said. “What I was about to experience was totally out of the realm of anything that I could imagine. After going through basic training and AIT, and especially Vietnam training, I guess I was fooling myself when I got there, thinking it was something it wasn’t.”

He first made it to Cam Rahn Bay, near Saigon, in Vietnam.

“The first thing I noticed when I got off was the smell,” Warren said. “I had never smelled that kind of smell before in my life. The smell was just constant.”

He said the smell was a mixture of fish and something else, most likely a cause of the unsanitary conditions of the area.

He was then stationed to Da Nang. He said it was also called “Rocket City” because of the incoming rockets that would hit compounds and more.

It was here, he said, that he recognized the segregation of soldiers.

“I got there, and I got a bunk,” Warren said. “I was among whites, (Puerto Ricans) and Mexicans. They grabbed me and said, ‘You’re coming right here for right now.’

“I noticed all the whites dealt with each other, and all the blacks dealt with each other. You had a lot of Puerto Ricans; they dealt with themselves.”

“”You have to understand. Blacks are already mad that they’re over there. During the 60s, and the first part of the 70s, (we didn’t have) the rights that (others) had.”

He was at the Da Nang compound for about three weeks before he learned he would be assigned to work on the YFU boats.

“I went down, it was on a Friday morning, and I saw all these boats coming in,” Warren said.

He was watching the boats coming in when he learned that each boat leaves on Monday and comes back in on Friday each week.

On the ship he was assigned to, there were about seven crew members.

“We had the skipper; we had a black E-7, and I was about an E-2,” Warren said. “The rest of us were about an E-4.”

He said a fellow soldier taught him about “life on the water.”

“He started teaching me everything, telling me everything about life on the water and on the boats,” Warren said.

Warren said he was a deckhand on the YFU he worked on.

“The main thing was, it was taking ammo down the South China Sea,” Warren said. “We had about 12 YFU’s down there on the docks, and sometimes, some didn’t make it back. They would tell us, ‘They were overloaded.’ We knew they weren’t overloaded. A lot of them got hit.”

He said the boats would also carry equipment back and forth between cities.

Eventually, Warren learned how risky it was to work on the YFUs. He said he began to think that, if he was going to die, he was just going to die.

“We stayed on the water a lot,” Warren said. “I got to the point that if it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen. I had that mentality.”

Soon, he and other soldiers started to notice that other boats weren’t returning from their jobs. It was not long after this that Warren, also known as Brother Little Man, and his friend, Brother Mop, decided they would return to the compound and work on land.

He said that Brother Mop told him, “If we’re going to die, we’re going to die on land. We’re not going to die in the water; we’re not in the Navy.”

“I got in the company; I’m so relieved,” Warren said. “I’m off the wall. I’ve got a new lease on life. I’m happy because I’m off that water. I didn’t know how strenuous it was in that compound.”

This was the same compound he first stayed in when he reached Da Nang.

“I noticed the same thing (at this point),” Warren said. “Everybody stayed to themself. Blacks here, Puerto Ricans, whites and Mexicans. We had a little, I don’t know what you call it. It wasn’t good; it wasn’t good. What made it so bad, the little lieutenants, captains and stuff would just eat you for breakfast.”

Warren did say that every one of the soldiers realized that they were all potential victims of the war.

“The communication with the blacks, the whites, and (others), it wasn’t all that good, but we coped,” Warren said. “I think the bottom line is, we coped because we knew we were in the same boat.

“The Vietnamese, or the Viet Cong, weren’t looking at what color you were. All they were looking at was that green uniform. You were still going to get killed. That was the bond that we had. If you’re beside me, and I’m black and you’re white, they’re going to kill both of us. That’s how we co-existed.

“It started getting a lot better because, at the end of the day, we were fighting for the same thing and trying to stay alive. That helped a lot. All this madness, we talked about it constantly, that madness wasn’t going to get us anywhere over there. We were in another country; we wanted to live if we wanted to get back. A lot of us didn’t make it back.”

He said that the soldiers were also angry that the South Vietnamese soldiers would lay down their arms quickly in a time of crisis.

“They gave up quick, and we had to cover their (tails),” Warren said. “A lot of us got wounded or got killed covering them.”

One such person killed in Vietnam was Warren’s good friend, Christopher Brown.

“He was a very good fellow, and when he wasn’t on a recon, he would drive a truck,” Warren said.

He said that he and Brown would go on reconnaissance missions together with Brother Mop.

They would walk next to each other, with spaces between each person, while on recon.

“Me, Brother Mop and Christopher Brown used to go out on recon (missions),” Warren said. “We were always next to each other. (Brown) got hit.”

Warren said he was shot through his chest and it went through his back.

“When I got to him, his back was out,” Warren said. “Ak-37s had just destroyed his whole back. He died within a minute on that spot. That stays with me until this day.”

Warren finally left Vietnam 13 months and one day later. He was 21 years old and an E-4.

“I had heard through the grapevine, if you stay for a long time, being a two-year man, you might get a drop,” Warren said. “So, I stayed there.”

He said he had a hard time transitioning back to civilian life in the United States.

“The transition back over here was horrendous,” Warren said. “It was terrible. I had a lot of problems.”

He would soon learn that he suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, stemming from his friend, Christopher Brown’s, death.

He eventually went back to school and received his bachelor’s degree in sociology. He also studied history and decided to receive his teaching certificate.

He never returned to playing an instrument.

“I didn’t go back in the band,” Warren said. “That was over with. I liked music. I can listen to all kinds of music, but (playing music) was over with. I figured if you were going to play an instrument, you needed to be a professional. To be a professional, you had to practice, and Vietnam just wiped that out for me.

“I don’t know if I was mad at the horn or what, but I just didn’t have it in me.”

He later returned to school to receive his master’s degree in counseling and then in criminal justice.

For a period of time, he worked as a substitute teacher at New Brockton schools. He also worked with the Department of Corrections, where he was the first black person to work at Elba Work Release as a counselor.

He worked at the work release center during the day and taught school in the evenings. He said he did not sleep much during this time.

Eventually, he left the Department of Corrections and began working with computers with the Department of the Army as a computer programmer. He said he had no previous experience with computers.

“While I was there, my wife, Ruby, noticed that I couldn’t sleep,” Warren said. “I would go to work, and I would sleep on the job. I would almost get caught sleeping on the job. She told my mother, and my mother said, ‘Why don’t you go to the VA?’

“(My wife) took me to the VA. They sent me home and had me another appointment in about two weeks. I went back and they put me in the hospital. After about two weeks in the hospital, you see the hospital doctor.”

Here, Warren learned that he had PTSD and would not be able to work again. This was in 1986.

He learned of his diagnosis around the 10-year anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War.

He then struggled to obtain full Veteran Affairs benefits. He said it took 10 years.

He started receiving full benefits in 1996.

Today, he has traveled around this country with his wife. They would move to different posts because of her job with the government.

Warren met his wife a few years after returning to the United States, in 1976, through his sister-in-law. The couple marked their 39th wedding anniversary on Nov. 7.

Warren just turned 67 on his last birthday. He still performs music, focusing more on singing at church. He calls himself and his life “blessed.”

He has two nieces, two nephews, two great-nieces and one great-nephew that he spends his time with.

Like his parents were for him, he is invested in his great-nephew and great-nieces’ futures and education. He said he pushes them to do their best in school.

“I want them to go far,” Warren said. “That’s why, if I never do anything else, the Lord can say I did try to help. I tried to make a difference.

“They’re good children, and they’re smart. I like where they’re going. It gives me (hope) for them.”

Warren said that despite the things he has experienced in life, he is happy.

“After everything that happened, I have a good life,” he said.

Warren said that he hopes that people learn from his story that “anything is possible.”

“You can overcome a lot. You’ve got to keep praying and believing. Don’t doubt yourself. Believe in what you’re doing, and trust in the Lord. Anything is possible.”