This is an edited re-post of a previously published 2018 article.
November 11th 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).
On this day, a small American flag will be placed on my father’s grave at Baltimore National Cemetery. TAPS will play 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. It only did so because the Commandant of the Marine Corps at the time, Major General Thomas 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.”
Thus, my father found himself in a segregated Marine Corps with its own separate boot camp at Montford Point, North Carolina. Blacks who served in this Corps were primarily stewards, typist or ammunition 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.” My Dad was discharged at the end of the war as an E-3. This was in an enlisted rank structure that went to E-7. His service medals are at the right.
My Dad didn’t live long enough to see me join the Marine Corps. He never knew that I went into a racially integrated Marine Corps and 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.
My Dad lived in a world where Black people couldn’t attend school, eat at a lunch counter or even drink from the same water fountain as a white person. But his country needed him to fight for the freedom of others while denying him those same freedoms at home. He answered his nation’s call. And in doing so, ended up desegregating the Marine Corps.
Let me be clear: the Marine Corps wasn’t perfect when I went in. However, it was better than when my father was in and it was better still when I left. Today, men and women of EVERY ethnic make up and origin are an integral part of the Marine Corps’ fabric. They make up a history in ways Major General Holcomb couldn’t have possibly envisioned. They serve in EVERY leadership capacity imaginable and Major General Holcomb’s Corps – my Corps, is better for it.
On this day, 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 to 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 former President Obama spoke of. He helped blaze a trail more than eighty three years ago that I and others would later follow. In turn, we must take up the mantle of widening the path into a highway for those who would follow us.
Veterans Day honors him and gives me a chance to thank him for his service. “Thanks, Marine. Thanks, Dad…for all that you did.”
