 |
|
The Kiss |
 |
When my
ship eased into it's
berth at the Naval Station in Norfolk Virginia in 1969, after a 9
month deployment at sea, a
band played on the pier, and there was the usual
circus of sailors kissing their wives and
girlfriends. Being a gay sailor serving in
silence, none of that was for me. I wasn't
allowed to do any of that. I just tried to
be inconspicuous as I walked through the throng
of happy kissers, so shipmates wouldn't notice
that I was alone. I'd get plenty of kisses
from my boyfriends once
I got home to New York, I knew (yes, boyfriends,
plural; hell, I was twenty two and cute as a bug in
my sailor suit). But, this
moment was awfully lonely.
Being able
to kiss a boyfriend, in public, in uniform, was
beyond my imagination in those days before
Stonewall, Matlovich, and Milk. Being
caught gay, back then, meant being killed or being
disgraced with a dishonorable discharge.
We've come a long way since the iconic VE Day
1945 photo of a sailor boy kissing a young woman
in New York's Times Square at the close of WWII.
(A few years ago a reporter tracked down that
woman, in her late 80s living in a nursing home
in California, to ask about her memories of that
long ago moment).
This
year's iconic Sailor's Christmas Homecoming Kiss
photo is of
U.S. Navy 2nd Class Petty Officer Marissa Gaeta
kissing her her fiancée, Petty Officer 3rd Class
Citlalic Snell. How sweet it is!
Perhaps some sixty six years from now they will
track down those two elderly women and ask them
what all the fuss was about.
MORE |
|
|
A Tale of
Two
Americans
by Denny Meyer |
 |
In the
darkest days of Nazi tyranny during World War II
in Europe, Jews across the continent desperately
struggled to survive. This is the story of
two boys, me and my friend Diek*, born at
the close of WWII to two Jewish families that
had managed to live through the perils and
horror in Europe and immigrated to America as
refugees. One of us grew up to volunteer
during the Vietnam War and served honorably for
ten years in two services. The other fled
to Canada to avoid the draft, where he remains
to this day. The proud American Veteran, I
am and always have been gay; the proud Canadian,
my former friend, is straight.
We met,
when we were 13, playing gym class volleyball on
opposite sides in junior high school in an outer
suburban northeastern town. We each
immediately saw a fellow nerd who was totally
awkward at any kind of athletic activity.
That was how I spotted Diek, and thought, "Oh my
God, he's as pathetic as I am at this."
So, seeking a friend, I said hello to him after
the game. He told me his name was Diek.
"What kind of name is that?" I asked.
"It's Dutch." he told me. "Oh, are you
Jewish?" I asked. "Why? Is that a problem
for you?" He snarled. Ouch! "Um,
n-no, I'm Jewish too and my parents were
Holocaust refugees, and...." "OH!" Having
been born in a postwar DP camp in Europe, that
was all he needed to hear. His hostility
gone, we were instant friends.
MORE |
|
|
|
In Australia
with
the Diggers!
By
Mike Rankin
M.D., Capt., MC, USN
(Ret)
|
 |
When I served in
Vietnam, our Marine base
was very close to an
Australian base camp.
There was a lot of
interaction between us,
we became fast friends,
the "diggers" and us
Marines. Over the years
some of us have stayed
in touch. In early
November, I got an
invitation to join them
at their Remembrance Day
celebrations, an
invitation I was honored
to receive and eager to
accept. It was also the
centenary of the Royal
Australian Navy, so that
made it even more
special. I flew to
Australia with a fellow
retired Navy officer and
his partner, a pediatric
dentist. We landed in
Sydney, took a hotel
across the street from
the ANZAC memorial,
where the ceremony was
held, and took a couple
tours to other parts of
the country.
MORE |
|
|
|
| |
|
|
