Standing at attention in their summer uniforms, newly graduated Army soldiers shiver in the cold Kentucky weather. The unexpected freeze drives away most of the graduation’s audience—only five men in heavy coats remain while everyone else escapes indoors.
Having just finished basic training, many of these soldiers will soon head off to fight in the Vietnam War. Some will die; others may survive, forever haunted by the memories. One soldier among the ranks won’t just survive—he will thrive.
“You grow up, you have heroes — people you look up to,” said Wingo. “The two people I looked up to the most in history were Sgt. Alvin York, a great hero and Medal of Honor winner from World War I and Audie Murphy, who was the most highly decorated soldier of World War II, were my heroes. These were the people I looked up to and I really wanted to be like them. I don’t really care about anything else but to get into service and make a career out of it.”
Wingo was born Sept. 22, 1947, in Meridian, Mississippi, to his parents, Frank and Nettie Wingo, alongside his older sister, Frankie Sue. He grew up living above his family’s grocery store. When reflecting on his childhood, Wingo struggles to find any negative experiences. Most of his days were spent playing baseball with friends or hunting and fishing with his father. He says his upbringing was positive, and his small-town community gave him a sense of safety and freedom.
Growing up, Wingo expected a life of adventure. Watching movies and shows about pirates, cowboys and soldiers, he always thought his life would take him over the seas as a sword-fighting pirate or up into the skies as a fighter pilot. In a way, his dreams did come true—just not in the way he expected.
His childhood dreams of being a cowboy came true during his time as a bounty hunter. His wish of becoming a sheriff was fulfilled when he joined the Mississippi Highway Patrol and later became the sheriff of Magee. And while he didn’t become a pirate or a fighter pilot, he did become a soldier, crossing the Pacific Ocean to fight in the Vietnam War.
“I thought I would have this great life of either being a marshal or some sheriff in a town somewhere,” Wingo said. “Something would be grand and big, you know, that’s what I thought it would turn out to be.”
Wingo often struggled academically, barely passing high school. Most of his memories involve hanging out with friends and participating in extracurricular activities such as fencing club, playing clarinet in the band, and joining an after-school bowling league that mixed students and teachers on teams. On his team were his friends and his geography and economics teacher.
Wingo chose to attend Meridian Junior College after persuasion from his friends, only doing so because the time spent with them was the only part of school he liked.
Initially interested in pursuing a career in law enforcement, Wingo was inspired by people he grew up around who worked as Mississippi Highway Patrol officers. However, during his time at junior college, the draft for the Vietnam War began. Wingo and his friends decided to take the deferment test, which would allow them to avoid being drafted—Wingo ended up being the only one of his friends to pass, and ironically, he was the only one of them who wanted to fight in the war.
Despite objections from friends and family—many of whom called him crazy—and an offer from his parents to fully fund his education at any college of his choosing, Wingo still chose to enlist in the Army. After nine months of basic training, he moved on to advanced infantry training in the mountains of California, where simulated Vietnamese villages prepared soldiers for deployment.
While the training gave the newly appointed soldiers their first taste of freedom in months, it was extremely difficult. They spent weeks conducting mountain exercises, nighttime navigation, and tactical maneuvers. As official soldiers, they were allowed some freedom—watching movies, eating at restaurants, and wearing civilian clothes off base. The first thing Wingo did with his newfound freedom was see “The Warlord,” one of his favorite movies, followed by dinner with friends.
During his advanced infantry training, Wingo honed his skills as a rifleman and machine gunner. His original plan was to attend Officer Candidate School and turn his military service into a career. However, his captain nominated him to join the Old Guard, a prestigious unit assigned to Washington, D.C., to guard the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
“I thought that’d be great — to be in Washington at the tomb of the unknown soldier. I mean, what an honor that would be,” Wingo said. “Well, I stayed around there for about three weeks then we got a letter and the captain called me in. He said, ‘Well, I got some bad news for you.’”
Wingo was one inch too short. Soldiers in the Old Guard must be between 5 feet 11 inches and 6 feet 1 inch tall so they appear to be the same height. That one inch would change all his plans.
Wingo was offered the chance to attend Officer Training School, which would have increased his rank, but rather than becoming a 20-year-old lieutenant in charge of 200 men, he chose to stay in the infantry. He was sent to Fort Hood, Texas, and a week later he was transferred once again—this time to prepare for Vietnam.
Wingo, along with 4,000 other soldiers, traveled to Vietnam together. The journey took nine days and required them to travel on two different ships. Toward the end of their journey, they were told they would land at midnight on a beach, set up their guns, post guards, and prepare for war.
“They [The higher up’s] gave us ammunition, we loaded up our rifles, and they said we’re going up the coast. You could see tracers and bullets, and you could hear bombs and rockets going off all through the night,” Wingo said. “It was about three in the morning, and we’re hearing all these noises, seeing all this stuff flying through the air. When it starts to get daylight, we look around—there’s buildings. We’re in the middle of Chu Lai Air Force Base. We thought we were out in the jungle somewhere. We’re in the middle of an air base.”
Wingo spent a year deployed in Vietnam. His daily routine often involved establishing perimeters, conducting patrols, and setting up ambush sites, which led to frequent combat situations.
His first battle lasted three days, in which he made a rookie mistake—using all his ammunition within the first two minutes of the fight. He then spent the rest of the battle crawling on the ground, searching for spare rounds. He would continue to fight in battles throughout his service in Vietnam, but there were two that stood out above the rest.
On Mother’s Day, May 12, 1968, Wingo was injured during battle when a piece of shrapnel went through his shoulder. At first, he didn’t notice, too focused on his captain, who had also been hit in the head and was bleeding heavily. It wasn’t until a medic pointed out his injury that Wingo realized he was hurt. He bandaged it up before heading back into battle—an act that later earned him the Purple Heart.
The most difficult moment of his military career came on Sept. 13, 1968. After an explosion wounded seven men on the front line—leaving the soldiers vulnerable and unreachable by armored vehicles—Wingo left the safety of the armored vehicle and by himself dragged each soldier to safety, one by one. His act of heroism that day earned him a Bronze Star.
After Vietnam, Wingo served as a drill sergeant for his final year of service—an experience he said helped him readjust to civilian life. At 21, he trained new recruits, knowing that many of them wouldn’t make it home. He did so the only way he knew how: by teaching them how to survive, just like his drill sergeants did for him.
At 25, Wingo joined the Mississippi Highway Patrol—fulfilling his childhood dream. After attending college for a degree in criminal justice, he was offered the position of police chief in Magee, Mississippi, where he served for one and a half years. There, he met many polygraphers who sparked his interest in the field.
Eventually, Wingo went to school to become a polygrapher, which led to his job as a private investigator, polygrapher, and for a short period of time, a bounty hunter. He continued to work as a polygrapher for 43 years. The hardest part of his job was dealing with people accused of serious crimes like sexual assault and child abuse.
Wingo later accepted a position with the Phoenix Police Department in Arizona, where he became the department’s polygrapher supervisor. There, he experienced what he calls the highlight of his career—in which he helped catch a serial shooter who had killed nine people and injured more.
“I talked with him [the suspect] for about two and a half hours. I actually got ready to take the polygraph,” said Wingo. “I said ‘This may not be him. This guy may pass this polygraph test.’ One time through there and it blew up. I said oh boy, that’s him. So I went and told them, I said get on him right now. This is the guy. He is the shooter.”
Years of working violent cases took an emotional toll on him. In 2022, Wingo retired. He moved back to Mississippi to be close to his daughter and granddaughter. He now lives in Petal, Mississippi, with his wife, Yvonne.
Wingo has spent most of his life trying to make a difference, whether it be through work, school, or decades of service. But it wasn’t until he returned home at the age of 75 that he felt as though he finally became somebody—known by others as the father of his daughter, Ashley Hodge.
“He’s a very loving person, and there are just so many things that he’s done in his life—he’s very steady,” said his daughter, Ashley. “A very steady, strong person. Somebody you can depend on. Obviously, you’ve seen all these things he’s done in life. He just loves people, he loves Jesus—he’s a rock. A rock through a lot of different things for our family, for other people. Anybody who knows him would tell you that he’s a good, strong, steady person.”
Wingo hopes he’ll one day be remembered as a good friend who did his best for his family and for his Lord and Savior. He said that despite the mistakes he has made in life—which he has spent years trying to atone for through his work and military service—he will always be proud of the people he has been able to help. Still, he considers his family his greatest accomplishment of all.
“I think the thing that I’m most proud of—it all boils down to, and you learn this if you’re lucky or if you’re blessed and live long enough—you will learn that people are the most important thing in this life,” Wingo said. “Not jobs, or whatever—it’s people. So what I’m the proudest of is my family. They are precious.”