In
mid Pride Month this past June,
Leon Panetta, the Secretary of
Defense gave a speech welcoming
and thanking Lesbian and Gay
service members for their
service.
With a warm avuncular smile this
former Catholic School boy, Army
Lieutenant, and CIA Director
went through a long litany of
carefully crafted phrases of
affirmation. In opening, he
recognized Pride Month, and
thanked "Gay and Lesbian Service
members and LGBT civilians and
their families for their
dedicated service to our
country." He noted that
before the repeal of DADT, like
everyone else, we served with
professionalism and courage,
putting the country before
ourselves. "Now," he said,
"after repeal, you can be proud
of serving your country and be
proud of who you are."
Speaking of "equality being
fundamental to the American
culture," he said that sharing
different backgrounds, values,
and beliefs is the freedom that
we defend. "Respect and
individual dignity" are the
cornerstones of our military, he
went on. Leaving no stone
unturned, he spoke of his
"commitment to removing as many
barriers as possible to make
America's military a model of
equal opportunity." In
closing he described diversity
as "our greatest strength."
You had to
listen carefully to note the
distinctions made in this
careful elucidation that avoided
any inadvertent affirmations not
included in current law. On the other hand, the inclusion
of many potent politically
correct phrases suggested to me
that very clever gay folk were
involved in the writing of his
words. Having a highly
skilled staff does not make a
man cynical, however; I believe
he was being genuinely sincere,
yet very cleverly careful.
Had he not been excruciatingly
careful, he would have been
instantly lambasted from both
the left and right by those
watching every word for the
slightest hint of inaccuracy or
sins of illegitimate inclusion.
On Tuesday
June 26, 2012, the Pentagon held
its first LGBT Pride event in
the Pentagon Auditorium packed
with LGBT service members and
veterans. It began with a
Presentation of Colors and the
National Anthem, a startlingly
proper routine formal military
ceremony for the opening of the
historic first Pentagon Pride
celebration. President
Obama gave a televised address
followed by a showing of
Secretary Panetta's speech.
In person, Jeh Johnson, the
Defense Department's General
Counsel who was instrumental in
the study and implementation of
the transition process to open
service, spoke at length about
the deliberative decision making
process involved in ending DADT,
and the inequalities that still
need to be resolved; noting that
those inequalities trouble
leaders in the Pentagon.
In describing the extensive
studies done by the DoD which
led to the repeal of DADT, he
noted in particular the
"patriotic desire" motivating
LGBT service members to have
volunteered.
The Pentagon
program concluded with a panel
of lesbian and gay active and
veteran speakers, each of whom
spoke eloquently about their
experience: West Point graduate
and Knights Out Executive
Director Sue Fulton, Marine
Captain Matthew Phelps, and Gordon Tanner, former Air Force
JAG officer and currently the
Principal Deputy Counsel of the
Air Force. Captain Phelps,
who has been serving on active
duty since 2002, spoke of the
isolation he felt during casual
evening gatherings of Marine
officers during his service in
Iraq, where the banter was about
their families back home.
He was forbidden from speaking
about his husband, thereby
preventing his fellow officers
from knowing who he was.
He said that the first day without the ban,
September 20th 2011, was like a
new beginning for him, as if he
had been on his first day of
duty.
For those
opposed to gay rights, these
events were perhaps horror movie
moments signifying the end of
false reality as they know it.
For those of us who have
patriotically served, and for
those now serving, they were
significant steps on the road to
equality paved with the
sacrifices of people like
Leonard Matlovich and the
righteousness of President Obama.
For me, an
old gay vet, both the Defense
Secretary's speech and the
Pentagon Pride celebration were a long
awaited thanks that I thought
I'd never hear. I'm not
now talking about the new common
"thank you for serving"
politesse of supporting our
troops. I'm talking about
hearing clearly stated official U.S.
Government recognition of our service and
sacrifice. In
2003 when I led the first AVER LGBT veterans' contingent in the
NYC Pride Parade, the crowds on
each block cheered so
thunderously that it gave us
goose bumps! A friend, who
had served in combat in Korea in
1953, flew up from Florida to
march with us. As he heard
the crowds shout, "Thank You For
Serving!" he began to cry.
When I asked him what was the
matter, he told me, "No one ever
thanked me for being a gay
veteran before." He'd
waited 50 years! If
hearing gay people cheer us
means so much, imagine what it
means for the Pentagon and the
President to hold LGBT pride
events and to hear the Secretary of
Defense affirm our service
and thank us for it!
It made me
think again of my ten years of
serving in silence so long ago.
Because my family came to
America as WWII Holocaust
refugees, I volunteered in 1968
"to pay my country back for my
family's freedom," despite being
gay. I knew from the start
that I'd be sacrificing my
freedom and I'd have to live my
military life in a deep
camouflage closet. My
friends all thought that I was
nuts. "You can't do that,"
they said, "you're a little
faggot!" I said, "Watch
me!" I was determined to
do it. I wasn't stupid,
but I was rather naive. It
wasn't easy. Nevertheless,
I ended up reenlisting, served
for ten years in two services,
and left quite honorably as a
Sgt. First Class. Not bad
for 'a little faggot!'
When I went
through the production-line
pre-induction physical on the
first day, one brief moment in
the process was finding myself
standing in front of a
psychologist who didn't bother
to look up from rubber stamping
his paperwork while asking, "Any
problem with homosexuality?"
I said, quite honestly, "No
Sir." And he said, "Next."
That was all there was to that.
I had no problem at all with who
I was, so I was telling the
truth. A little while
later in the process, I was one
of 4,000 young men standing in
their underwear; a Petty Officer
stood up on a table and shouted,
"All right, Mother F---ers, LINE
UP; nuts to butts, I want you so
close to the guy in front of you
that he starts to smile; if he
laughs, back off a little."
Everyone chuckled, so I did too.
And that was my first lesson in
how I was going to survive
serving. I saw it as a
test. If I'd shrieked with
laughter, then they would have
known, "Ah, there's one... ."
I learned to laugh along with
everyone else, no matter how
offensive a homophobic crack
was. I wouldn't stand for
any of that today; but that was
the way it was back then, a year
before Stonewall.
Later, when I
served aboard an aircraft
carrier, there was a lot of
horse play among the young men
sailing the high seas for weeks
without women. Two guys
would be 'kidding around' and
wrestle briefly on top of each
other on the deck with thirty
guys watching and laughing and
shouting lewdly. It was
how tension was released, it
didn't mean anything at all.
But, I was terrified of giving
away my secret; so if anyone
tried to do that with me, I
shoved them away and said, "Hey
I don't go for that shit!"
So, inadvertently, I got a
reputation as the straightest
guy around, who wouldn't even
horse around for a few laughs.
So, during one of the periodic
'Witch Hunts for Queers,' the
officers called me in and said,
"Meyer, you're the only one we
can be sure of, will you help us
find these people?" Oh my
God! I didn't know whether
to laugh or cry! But, I
knew what to do, and simply
grunted, "Arrr, I dunno nuthin'
bout that sir!" That was
the end of that. And so it
went. But, it made me feel
very lonely there at sea amidst
my shipmates. There were
others, to be sure, but no one
dared to smile at another
sailor. Each of us was an
island, alone with himself.
In those days, if you were
caught, you'd be killed in the
middle of the night and thrown
overboard.
I don't want
readers to think that my
particular experience was hell.
It wasn't. I was having
the time of my young life with
the adventure of serving aboard
a giant warship at sea! Mostly,
it was non stop work, everyone
had a job to do and every job
was vital to keeping the entire
operation functioning smoothly.
Whether you were a gunner or a
cook, neither could survive
without the other. There
were malcontents, of course, but
the way to a rewarding
experience was to take pride in
your work. That was
encouraged. It takes a lot
of motivation for a gay person
to want to volunteer in the
first place, to serve where he
or she wasn't wanted. So,
we tended to do well because we
were highly motivated from the
start. No one could know
what drove us; so we were mostly
proving to ourselves what we
could do. But there was
always the fear, at all
times, that no matter how well
you did your job, at any moment
it could all come crashing down
simply because of who you were.
Your pride in service could
suddenly become disgrace and
dishonor.
Now, what was
unimaginable then has come true.
The President of the United
States of America promised and
delivered the repeal of DADT, the Secretary of Defense has
welcomed and thanked us for our
service, and the Pentagon has
celebrated our pride in service
and our pride in who we are. It means a lot to
those of us who served long ago;
and it means freedom and
equality for those serving now.
We are not
done yet! We still need to
have full equal benefits for
service members and their
families and freedom to serve
for transgender patriots.
But now we can be proud of our
service and proud of who we are,
as Secretary Panetta was clever
enough to point out in nearly
those exact words.
Secretary
Panetta's speech may be seen at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s36Qqyb3-t0
See
the hour long Pentagon LGBT
Pride Event at:
http://www.c-span.org/Events/Pentagon-Marks-LGBT-Pride-Month/10737431898/
Full transcript of
Pentagon LGBT Pride event:
http://www.defense.gov/transcripts/transcript.aspx?transcriptid=5070