thedrifter
03-08-08, 09:04 AM
Prejudice & pride; Black veterans recall duty to their country amid discrimination
By Steve Liewer
Copley News Service
World War II was over for less than a year when Bill "Movin" Vann, bursting with patriotic pride, showed up at the Marine Corps' segregated boot camp at Montford Point, N.C.
He went there to join an organization that had been a white man's club until President Franklin Roosevelt pried it open for blacks in 1941, over the strenuous objections of Marine leaders.
Vann endured a boot camp that was especially unforgiving of the mistakes of young black men, who still weren't welcomed in the Corps. Having grown up in the Jim Crow South, he thought little of the discrimination. He didn't mind not being able to step foot inside the gates of the adjacent Camp Lejeune.
"I was completely naive," Vann, now 79 and living in east San Diego, recalled recently. "The big picture, I wasn't all that conversant with. I was concerned with getting the training I came in for and becoming a good Marine."
Vann and his wife, Evangeline, told the story of his 30-year career as part of a symposium at the Veterans Museum and Memorial Center at Balboa Park, a former Navy chapel that now features displays about San Diego's long military history.
The Vanns were part of a panel of veterans who described military life before and after President Harry Truman ordered the integration of the U.S. armed forces in 1948.
Robert Maxwell described his training as one of the Army Air Forces' pioneering Tuskegee Airmen. Vietnam War-era Army veteran Sam Campbell talked about the Buffalo Soldiers of the 19th and early 20th centuries. And 1960s sailor Michael Thomas shared stories of the Mason, the first destroyer with an African-American crew.
Nearly 200 people - many of them local high school students - listened raptly while munching on popcorn and cookies.
"The armed forces really took the lead in the integration of our country," said Will Hays, chairman of the museum association.
The change turned the armed forces into a source of opportunity for minorities, and today the military is widely regarded as colorblind.
The event took place last month as interest in joining the military has declined among African-Americans. The number of black recruits has dropped more than 35 percent between 2001 and last year, according to the Department of Defense. The reduction has been attributed in part to disillusionment over the war in Iraq, as well as to better career options for minorities in the private sector.
The military's integration - fiercely opposed at the time, especially in the Deep South - heralded the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s, said Rep. Bob Filner, D-Calif., a former history professor and civil rights activist.
African-American veterans experienced a military culture where, for once, hard work and achievement mattered more than skin color. "They came home and said, 'We've got to have our freedom, too,'" Filner said.
When Vann finished boot camp, black troops could choose from only three military jobs: mess steward, logistics supply clerk and ammunition technician. He chose the last one.
Even after Truman's integration order, Vann said, the Marine Corps showed little interest in creating racially mixed units. It hung onto a rule that said no white Marine could serve under a black officer or sergeant.
Change followed the desperate "Frozen Chosin" campaign of the Korean War, during which the surrounded 1st Marine Division - which included Vann and other blacks - broke out and defeated a much larger Chinese force in 1950. The victory helped convince many Marines that the race of the man fighting next to him didn't matter much.
"The Korean War changed the Corps where legislation had not," Vann said.
In 1976, Vann retired as a sergeant major from a Marine Corps that had changed drastically from the one he joined. He stuck with the service for three decades, he said, by remembering his mother's advice to always do as he was told and by never holding a grudge.
"I thought (discrimination) was a waste of time and energy, but I never got angry," Vann said. "I didn't get bitter; I got better."
The hardships endured by Vann and other veterans as old as their grandfathers awed some of the high-schoolers who came to hear them.
"Still they fought for their country, even though they were treated so badly," said Haben Michael, 15, a sophomore at Hoover High School in San Diego.
"I was so amazed to see all these heroes," said Daunte Haynes, 17, a senior at Hoover. "It makes me want to become more of a leader."
Even vets like John Smith, a combat medic during the Vietnam War, said the speakers inspired them.
"There are some things in the world worth fighting for," said Smith, who was San Diego's Veteran of the Year in 2005. "One of them is freedom."
Ellie
By Steve Liewer
Copley News Service
World War II was over for less than a year when Bill "Movin" Vann, bursting with patriotic pride, showed up at the Marine Corps' segregated boot camp at Montford Point, N.C.
He went there to join an organization that had been a white man's club until President Franklin Roosevelt pried it open for blacks in 1941, over the strenuous objections of Marine leaders.
Vann endured a boot camp that was especially unforgiving of the mistakes of young black men, who still weren't welcomed in the Corps. Having grown up in the Jim Crow South, he thought little of the discrimination. He didn't mind not being able to step foot inside the gates of the adjacent Camp Lejeune.
"I was completely naive," Vann, now 79 and living in east San Diego, recalled recently. "The big picture, I wasn't all that conversant with. I was concerned with getting the training I came in for and becoming a good Marine."
Vann and his wife, Evangeline, told the story of his 30-year career as part of a symposium at the Veterans Museum and Memorial Center at Balboa Park, a former Navy chapel that now features displays about San Diego's long military history.
The Vanns were part of a panel of veterans who described military life before and after President Harry Truman ordered the integration of the U.S. armed forces in 1948.
Robert Maxwell described his training as one of the Army Air Forces' pioneering Tuskegee Airmen. Vietnam War-era Army veteran Sam Campbell talked about the Buffalo Soldiers of the 19th and early 20th centuries. And 1960s sailor Michael Thomas shared stories of the Mason, the first destroyer with an African-American crew.
Nearly 200 people - many of them local high school students - listened raptly while munching on popcorn and cookies.
"The armed forces really took the lead in the integration of our country," said Will Hays, chairman of the museum association.
The change turned the armed forces into a source of opportunity for minorities, and today the military is widely regarded as colorblind.
The event took place last month as interest in joining the military has declined among African-Americans. The number of black recruits has dropped more than 35 percent between 2001 and last year, according to the Department of Defense. The reduction has been attributed in part to disillusionment over the war in Iraq, as well as to better career options for minorities in the private sector.
The military's integration - fiercely opposed at the time, especially in the Deep South - heralded the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s, said Rep. Bob Filner, D-Calif., a former history professor and civil rights activist.
African-American veterans experienced a military culture where, for once, hard work and achievement mattered more than skin color. "They came home and said, 'We've got to have our freedom, too,'" Filner said.
When Vann finished boot camp, black troops could choose from only three military jobs: mess steward, logistics supply clerk and ammunition technician. He chose the last one.
Even after Truman's integration order, Vann said, the Marine Corps showed little interest in creating racially mixed units. It hung onto a rule that said no white Marine could serve under a black officer or sergeant.
Change followed the desperate "Frozen Chosin" campaign of the Korean War, during which the surrounded 1st Marine Division - which included Vann and other blacks - broke out and defeated a much larger Chinese force in 1950. The victory helped convince many Marines that the race of the man fighting next to him didn't matter much.
"The Korean War changed the Corps where legislation had not," Vann said.
In 1976, Vann retired as a sergeant major from a Marine Corps that had changed drastically from the one he joined. He stuck with the service for three decades, he said, by remembering his mother's advice to always do as he was told and by never holding a grudge.
"I thought (discrimination) was a waste of time and energy, but I never got angry," Vann said. "I didn't get bitter; I got better."
The hardships endured by Vann and other veterans as old as their grandfathers awed some of the high-schoolers who came to hear them.
"Still they fought for their country, even though they were treated so badly," said Haben Michael, 15, a sophomore at Hoover High School in San Diego.
"I was so amazed to see all these heroes," said Daunte Haynes, 17, a senior at Hoover. "It makes me want to become more of a leader."
Even vets like John Smith, a combat medic during the Vietnam War, said the speakers inspired them.
"There are some things in the world worth fighting for," said Smith, who was San Diego's Veteran of the Year in 2005. "One of them is freedom."
Ellie