thedrifter
06-17-08, 08:43 AM
Military's policy stays unchanged
'Don't ask, don't tell' doesn't allow nuptials
By Steve Liewer
UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER
June 17, 2008
At 7 a.m. today, former Marine Bob Lehman and Tom Felkner will be among the first gay couples to exchange vows at the downtown county building, cementing their 15-year relationship with the bonds of marriage.
Tonight, they'll dance and eat wedding cake at a club in Hillcrest with hundreds of friends and family members. Among the guests will be an active-duty Navy corpsman and Iraq war veteran whom Lehman and Felkner consider a close friend.
There's little chance the corpsman will marry his partner, who also is in the military, any time soon because of the government's policy barring gay and lesbian service members from serving openly.
For now, “don't ask, don't tell” trumps “I do.”
“It's inevitably going to change, but is it going to take years or decades?” said the corpsman, who asked not to be named because the Navy would be obligated to dismiss him. He hopes to retire in five years, when he reaches his two-decade career milestone with the service.
California and Massachusetts are the only states to have legalized same-sex marriage.
Unlike Massachusetts, California is home to a major concentration of military bases. San Diego County is home to the nation's largest active-duty force – at least 70,000 sailors and 46,000 Marines, plus thousands of soldiers from the National Guard and reserves.
The California Supreme Court's decision last month to allow same-sex marriage collides with the 1993 federal statute governing homosexuality and military service. Congress crafted that law in the early days of President Clinton's administration as a compromise between the Pentagon, which had criminalized homosexuality, and Clinton, who had vowed to do away with the ban.
The statute led to the “don't ask, don't tell” policy that bars the armed forces from asking about sexual orientation but also bans service members from publicly stating their homosexuality, engaging in homosexual acts and trying to marry someone of the same gender.
More than 12,000 gay service members have been dismissed since 1993 – typically with honorable discharges – according to figures compiled by the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network, a national group that opposes the ban.
Before “don't ask, don't tell,” gay service members often were jailed and routinely lost benefits because of their dishonorable discharges.
“This is setting up a train wreck for a lot of gays and lesbians whose world sees them as equal . . . and yet the military and the Congress won't recognize them,” said Nathaniel Frank, a senior research fellow for the Palm Center at the University of California Santa Barbara. He also blogs in support of gay rights for the Huffington Post.
Elaine Donnelly, president of the Center for Military Readiness in Livonia, Mich., opposes the “don't ask, don't tell” policy for a different reason. Donnelly said she believes the military's outright exclusion of gays, which first became official in 1943, should be reinstituted.
“If the military is required to embrace gays, there will be a significant impact on cohesion and morale,” Donnelly said.
Pentagon officials said they have no plans to track down gay service members who marry in California, though it would be easy to find them using public records.
“The new law doesn't change our policy,” said Cynthia O. Smith, a spokeswoman for the Department of Defense. “The policy is 'don't ask, don't tell.' We don't ask.”
In 2006, a survey of 545 Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans found that 37 percent wanted to keep the military's ban on gays while 26 percent felt the opposite way. Thirty-two percent said they were neutral and 5 percent had no opinion, said the survey, which was crafted by the Palm Center and administered by Zogby International, a nonpartisan polling firm.
Of those who had served with a gay person, nearly two-thirds said homosexuality had no effect on their morale or their unit's morale.
Lehman, 43, finds it hard to believe his presence would have harmed the field artillery unit he served in during the Persian Gulf War, a highlight of his 10-year Marine career.
“Nobody in my unit knew artillery better than I did, including the officers,” he said.
Fresh out of high school, he followed two brothers into the military in 1983. “I didn't know I was gay, but I knew I was different,” Lehman said.
He came to terms with his sexuality in 1987, shortly after re-enlisting for six years.
Lehman said he never suffered harassment. But he became an expert at the double life required of gay service members: the evasions about off-duty time, the “she” substituted for “he” in the telling of stories about his significant other, the self-censorship in letters that might be read or phone calls that might be overheard, the social life focused far away from the base.
“Marines don't lie, cheat or steal,” Lehman said. “It was hard to lie.”
Lehman's unit deployed to Saudi Arabia in 1990 for the Gulf War. He didn't know anybody there who was gay, and his gay friends back home stuck to pleasantries in their letters to him.
Lehman, then a platoon sergeant, focused on preparing his men for battle.
“During combat, the gay thing didn't even exist,” he said. “My biggest fear was bringing my guys home alive.”
For his final job in the Marine Corps, Lehman served a tour as a recruiter in Chicago. He had to ask questions to screen out people who might be gay.
While in Chicago, he met Felkner, a marketing executive who had never served in the military but had plenty in common with Lehman. They were both the same age, came from devout Christian families and had moved to big cities from small-town Indiana.
In 1997, Felkner moved with Lehman to San Diego, a city the veteran had grown to love during his years at Camp Pendleton.
Their future friend, the corpsman, joined the Navy about the same time Lehman left the Marines. The corpsman planned to serve for four years and then study to become a nurse.
He didn't know he was gay when he enlisted. The corpsman said he realized his sexual orientation six years ago.
“There was a lot of denial and depression because of the inability to be out openly, (the fear) that I might get fired,” he said.
The corpsman has gay friends in the military, but he is constantly on guard. “I filter. If I'm on a government e-mail, I'm having to watch what I say,” he said. “It's draining, keeping up with your lies.”
Last year, the corpsman deployed to Iraq with a Camp Pendleton-based unit. He didn't come out to any of the Marines. His sexuality was never an issue.
“Seriously, it was the least of my worries,” he said. “It was just coming home alive.”
The corpsman made it home safely this year. His family lived too far away to attend the homecoming at Camp Pendleton, and no gay friends dared to meet him there.
“It hurt when we came to the parade ground and I heard all the families. I cried. I was jealous,” the corpsman said.
Today, he will vicariously share in the happiness of Lehman and Felkner's wedding.
The couple, who live in Bankers Hill, are unofficial counselors to many gay sailors and Marines in Southern California. They organize welcome-home events for gay service members whose partners can't greet them at military bases.
They also co-founded the Stonewall Citizens' Patrol, a neighborhood watch group formed after hate attacks on six gay men in Balboa Park two years ago.
“In San Diego, there's a lot of active-duty gays that live out in town fairly openly,” Lehman said.
Lehman said he wouldn't be surprised to see a brazen sailor or Marine at the courthouse today to exchange vows.
“Most of them are younger. They're fearless,” Lehman said. “They may decide: 'This is my life. It's more important than my job.' ”
Steve Liewer: (619) 498-6632; steve.liewer@uniontrib.com
Ellie
'Don't ask, don't tell' doesn't allow nuptials
By Steve Liewer
UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER
June 17, 2008
At 7 a.m. today, former Marine Bob Lehman and Tom Felkner will be among the first gay couples to exchange vows at the downtown county building, cementing their 15-year relationship with the bonds of marriage.
Tonight, they'll dance and eat wedding cake at a club in Hillcrest with hundreds of friends and family members. Among the guests will be an active-duty Navy corpsman and Iraq war veteran whom Lehman and Felkner consider a close friend.
There's little chance the corpsman will marry his partner, who also is in the military, any time soon because of the government's policy barring gay and lesbian service members from serving openly.
For now, “don't ask, don't tell” trumps “I do.”
“It's inevitably going to change, but is it going to take years or decades?” said the corpsman, who asked not to be named because the Navy would be obligated to dismiss him. He hopes to retire in five years, when he reaches his two-decade career milestone with the service.
California and Massachusetts are the only states to have legalized same-sex marriage.
Unlike Massachusetts, California is home to a major concentration of military bases. San Diego County is home to the nation's largest active-duty force – at least 70,000 sailors and 46,000 Marines, plus thousands of soldiers from the National Guard and reserves.
The California Supreme Court's decision last month to allow same-sex marriage collides with the 1993 federal statute governing homosexuality and military service. Congress crafted that law in the early days of President Clinton's administration as a compromise between the Pentagon, which had criminalized homosexuality, and Clinton, who had vowed to do away with the ban.
The statute led to the “don't ask, don't tell” policy that bars the armed forces from asking about sexual orientation but also bans service members from publicly stating their homosexuality, engaging in homosexual acts and trying to marry someone of the same gender.
More than 12,000 gay service members have been dismissed since 1993 – typically with honorable discharges – according to figures compiled by the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network, a national group that opposes the ban.
Before “don't ask, don't tell,” gay service members often were jailed and routinely lost benefits because of their dishonorable discharges.
“This is setting up a train wreck for a lot of gays and lesbians whose world sees them as equal . . . and yet the military and the Congress won't recognize them,” said Nathaniel Frank, a senior research fellow for the Palm Center at the University of California Santa Barbara. He also blogs in support of gay rights for the Huffington Post.
Elaine Donnelly, president of the Center for Military Readiness in Livonia, Mich., opposes the “don't ask, don't tell” policy for a different reason. Donnelly said she believes the military's outright exclusion of gays, which first became official in 1943, should be reinstituted.
“If the military is required to embrace gays, there will be a significant impact on cohesion and morale,” Donnelly said.
Pentagon officials said they have no plans to track down gay service members who marry in California, though it would be easy to find them using public records.
“The new law doesn't change our policy,” said Cynthia O. Smith, a spokeswoman for the Department of Defense. “The policy is 'don't ask, don't tell.' We don't ask.”
In 2006, a survey of 545 Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans found that 37 percent wanted to keep the military's ban on gays while 26 percent felt the opposite way. Thirty-two percent said they were neutral and 5 percent had no opinion, said the survey, which was crafted by the Palm Center and administered by Zogby International, a nonpartisan polling firm.
Of those who had served with a gay person, nearly two-thirds said homosexuality had no effect on their morale or their unit's morale.
Lehman, 43, finds it hard to believe his presence would have harmed the field artillery unit he served in during the Persian Gulf War, a highlight of his 10-year Marine career.
“Nobody in my unit knew artillery better than I did, including the officers,” he said.
Fresh out of high school, he followed two brothers into the military in 1983. “I didn't know I was gay, but I knew I was different,” Lehman said.
He came to terms with his sexuality in 1987, shortly after re-enlisting for six years.
Lehman said he never suffered harassment. But he became an expert at the double life required of gay service members: the evasions about off-duty time, the “she” substituted for “he” in the telling of stories about his significant other, the self-censorship in letters that might be read or phone calls that might be overheard, the social life focused far away from the base.
“Marines don't lie, cheat or steal,” Lehman said. “It was hard to lie.”
Lehman's unit deployed to Saudi Arabia in 1990 for the Gulf War. He didn't know anybody there who was gay, and his gay friends back home stuck to pleasantries in their letters to him.
Lehman, then a platoon sergeant, focused on preparing his men for battle.
“During combat, the gay thing didn't even exist,” he said. “My biggest fear was bringing my guys home alive.”
For his final job in the Marine Corps, Lehman served a tour as a recruiter in Chicago. He had to ask questions to screen out people who might be gay.
While in Chicago, he met Felkner, a marketing executive who had never served in the military but had plenty in common with Lehman. They were both the same age, came from devout Christian families and had moved to big cities from small-town Indiana.
In 1997, Felkner moved with Lehman to San Diego, a city the veteran had grown to love during his years at Camp Pendleton.
Their future friend, the corpsman, joined the Navy about the same time Lehman left the Marines. The corpsman planned to serve for four years and then study to become a nurse.
He didn't know he was gay when he enlisted. The corpsman said he realized his sexual orientation six years ago.
“There was a lot of denial and depression because of the inability to be out openly, (the fear) that I might get fired,” he said.
The corpsman has gay friends in the military, but he is constantly on guard. “I filter. If I'm on a government e-mail, I'm having to watch what I say,” he said. “It's draining, keeping up with your lies.”
Last year, the corpsman deployed to Iraq with a Camp Pendleton-based unit. He didn't come out to any of the Marines. His sexuality was never an issue.
“Seriously, it was the least of my worries,” he said. “It was just coming home alive.”
The corpsman made it home safely this year. His family lived too far away to attend the homecoming at Camp Pendleton, and no gay friends dared to meet him there.
“It hurt when we came to the parade ground and I heard all the families. I cried. I was jealous,” the corpsman said.
Today, he will vicariously share in the happiness of Lehman and Felkner's wedding.
The couple, who live in Bankers Hill, are unofficial counselors to many gay sailors and Marines in Southern California. They organize welcome-home events for gay service members whose partners can't greet them at military bases.
They also co-founded the Stonewall Citizens' Patrol, a neighborhood watch group formed after hate attacks on six gay men in Balboa Park two years ago.
“In San Diego, there's a lot of active-duty gays that live out in town fairly openly,” Lehman said.
Lehman said he wouldn't be surprised to see a brazen sailor or Marine at the courthouse today to exchange vows.
“Most of them are younger. They're fearless,” Lehman said. “They may decide: 'This is my life. It's more important than my job.' ”
Steve Liewer: (619) 498-6632; steve.liewer@uniontrib.com
Ellie