It’s not much of a secret that I served in the Marine Corps or that I was a combat photographer in Vietnam decades ago. While many of the photos I shot are in the National Archives, most of them are simply listed as “Defense Department Photos.” For those that don’t know, the National Archives is the U.S. Government’s collection of documents that records important events in American history. The National Archives and Records 
Administration (NARA) is the Government agency that preserves and maintains these materials and makes them available for research.
Today, while Googling myself, I came across an entry which referenced a photo I shot almost 40 years ago. Sadly, I don’t personally recall anything special or particular about this photo or the people in it, but the point is that I am credited (by name) as the photographer. So, forgive me for smiling in the knowledge that famed Civil War photographer, Matthew Brady and I have something in common. We both were war time photographers that have credited photos housed at the U.S. National Archives and Records Administration.
About two years ago, President Bush signed into law the Stolen Valor Act, which makes it a misdemeanor to falsify military decorations. The Act came about because people lied on their resumes about military medals they received or units they claimed they were in or battles they fought. Sadly this is more common now than it should be.
This is all relevant because President-Elect Obama has invited the Tuskegee Airmen to his inauguration on January 20th. About 225 of these heroes accepted the invitation. However, there is a local San Diego man, Thurman Pirtle, who claims to be a member of this group, but whose credentials were not successfully vetted. In other words, Mr. Pirtle apparently has been caught lying about his war service with the Tuskegee Airmen. He claims that his records were lost in a house fire (certainly possible) and that he doesn’t know of anyone who served with him who would still be alive who could verify his service (also possible). My problem with Mr. Pirtle’s story is that he has had more than fifty years to write the Government (National Personnel Records Center) and request verification of his service record and his military awards.
In 2004, I wrote the NPRC to get a copy of my Dad’s war medals. My father was among the first African-American to serve in the Marine Corps during World War II and I posted about him here. Sadly, he passed away before I could learn much from him about his Marine Corps service. The medals arrived one year later in 2005 (I kid you not, it took a year). When my mother came out to visit me before she passed away in 2007, I showed her the medals. She was pleased, but I regretted not mounting them to give her a presentation to look at rather than some loose medals. Mr. Pirtle’s story spurred me to get the medals mounted and set them up for presentation.
The bottom line is I can prove my Dad’s service. I’m sorry Mr. Pirtle can’t prove his. He has done a lot of good work in spreading the story of the Tuskegee Airmen. But apparently, none of his stories are based on his actual war service with this legendary group. Mr. Pirtle’s story is here. My Dad’s medals are below.
My Dad's WWII Medals (American Campaign Medal, Asiatic Pacific Campaign Medal, World War II Victory Medal, Ruptured Duck Honorable Service Lapel Pin and USMC Honorable Discharge Button)
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.
For 233 years, the U. S. Marine Corps has answered the call of this nation whenever it had a wrong it needed made right. It is easier now than ever to forget that liberty and freedom are not free. Its price has been paid for by the blood and sacrifice of those who have gone before us. Since 1775, the Marines have boldly marched to the sounds of the guns and have fought fiercely and honorably to defeat the enemies of this nation. They are Marines – and that is what they do.
It was President Reagan who once said: “Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference. The Marines don’t have that problem.” From the wheat fields of Belleau Wood, to the snows of the Chosin, to the streets of Hue City, to the alleys of Fallujah, the Marines have proudly made a difference.
On this day, everywhere in the world, wherever there are two or more Marines, the oldest and the youngest will share a slice of birthday cake. This sharing of food, this breaking of bread together, represents the passing of history and traditions from one generation to the next. It is a reminder of a heritage written in sacrifice by those who came before and a challenge to be met by those who carry the Corps’ battle colors now and in the future.
To the few, the proud, the Marines I say: Happy Birthday and Semper Fidelis.
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