Today is Veterans Day in the United States. It is a day which initially honored the end of World War I (“the war to end all wars”). The purpose of the day was later amended in 1954 by Public Law 380 to honor all veterans of all wars, whether living or dead (unlike Memorial Day which honors only our war dead).
Today, a small American flag will be placed on my father’s grave at Baltimore National Cemetery and TAPS will be played at 11 AM local time. My Dad was among the first African-Americans to serve in the Marine Corps during World War II. The Marine Corps was the last service to accept African-Americans for duty and only did so because the Commandant at the time, Major General Holcomb, was directed by the President to do it. Major General Holcomb had stated that Blacks had no place in the organization he headed. “If it were a question of having a Marine Corps of 5,000 whites or 250,000 Negroes,” he said, “I would rather have the whites.”
My father found himself in a profoundly segregated Marine Corps back then, (as was the nation) with its own separate boot camp led by all white officers. Those who served in this Corps were primarily stewards, typist or ammunitions drivers. My Dad? He was a steward and served in the Pacific theatre. He rose, as my Mom would later tell me, “to the highest rank a Negro could achieve in his specialty at that time.” He was discharged at the end of the war as an E-3 in a rank structure that went to E-7 (if you weren’t Black).
My Dad didn’t live long enough to see me join the Marine Corps twenty-two years after he was discharged. He never knew that I went into a racially integrated Marine Corps or that I rose to the top of the enlisted ladder (E-9). He never knew that I led and was led by Marines of all colors, ethnic groups and gender. All he knew was that he wanted to be a Marine and make a contribution to his country at war. He lived in a world where people of color couldn’t attend school, eat at a lunch counter, drink from the same water fountain or sit in the same area in a movie theater or on a bus as a white person. But his country needed him to fight for the freedom of others while it denied him those same freedoms at home. He answered his nation’s call and because of what he did in the earliest days of desegregating the Marine Corps, it allowed me to do the things I would do years later.
Let me be clear: the Marine Corps wasn’t perfect when I came in, but it was better than when my father was in and it was better still when I left. Today, there is a woman Marine General officer of Hispanic descent in charge of recruiting and the male Marine boot camp on the West Coast. The Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps is an African American. Minorities are a part of the Marine Corps’ fabric and history in ways Major General Holcomb couldn’t have possibly envisioned. And his Corps, my Corps, is better for it.
Today, my nation will honor my father’s memory for his service to his country. The honors rendered to him will not have an asterisk assigned to them marking his service as being separate and unequal. He will receive the same honors accorded all of the veterans who came before and after him. I will proudly join in the honoring of his memory. Not just because he was my Dad and a fellow Marine, but because he was one of those quiet heroes President-Elect Obama spoke of who helped blaze the trail sixty-five years ago that I and others would later follow; and in turn, challenged us to take up the mantle of widening the path into a highway for those who would follow us.
On a side note, I suspect that my Dad would be proud of what this nation has accomplished in the last sixty-five years culminating in Tuesday’s election results. I know I am. But I think he would remind me to temper that pride with the realization that the nation’s journey toward fulfilling the promise of the American dream for all of its citizens is not finished. We have a long way to go as a nation toward the goal of not living in fear of each other because of the color of our skin. No, the journey isn’t finished, but the path was widened a little bit on Tuesday. Tuesday was a good start, nothing more, just a good start in a long continuing journey.