The reelection of Donald Trump has LGBTQ veterans concerned that hard-fought rights could be rolled back.
At a recent Veterans Day ceremony in San Diego – days after the election – the results reignited fears and the determination of a group that’s used to fighting.
Seven veterans were inducted into the San Diego LGBT Center’s Wall of Honor, which commemorates veterans’ “courage, bravery and sacrifices.”
The ceremony would be familiar to anyone who’s attended a Veterans Day event – a Navy color guard paraded the colors, the national anthem was sung, and veterans delivered speeches recalling their service and sacrifice.
But the Pentagon’s decades of discrimination and criminalization of LGBTQ people haunts this community,never far from anyone’s old “war” stories.
“When you have a sword of Damocles over your head, you know, you always had to be careful,” said Army veteran Robert Granat.
Granat said he was surprised to find out he was being recognized,
“I thought it was a little strange at first because I didn’t think I really did anything to deserve it,” he said. “I am quite honored.”
Granat was drafted into the Army Reserves in 1969 despite pursuing several college degrees to avoid going to Vietnam, he said. But serving reluctantly was a better option for him than the surefire option to leave the service — admitting his sexuality.
“It was either (serve) or check off that little square that I was a homosexual,” Granat said. “If you were going into business, one did not do that. I mean, I would not have had a career.”
One by one, Wall of Honor inductees rose to speak about their military service. Most said they just wanted to serve and do something bigger than themselves — a common enough sentiment among people who join. All said they struggled once in uniform due to aspects of their identities.
Wall of Honor inductee Pele Crone said she never apologized for who she was, serving openly as a lesbian in the Army from 1978 to 1980.
“I’m not ashamed of who I am, and I just refused to be quiet about it,” Crone said. “I don’t care who likes me or — even if it means prison, even if it means my life — I’m not backing down from that.”
Crone was among the first women to attend Army boot camp in an integrated male-female platoon. She said she was lucky in the Army to have a commanding officer who supported her; she never got in trouble for her sexuality even while serving openly.
But there was one part of Army culture she couldn’t escape — sexism.
“Being gay and being out wasn’t the issue,” Crone said. “It was more just being a woman. I would have been a lifer. I would have retired. But … the harassment — it was really horrific.”
For decades LGBTQ people were barred from military service. Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell took effect in 1994 and allowed them to serve – but only by staying closeted.
In 2011, the ban was lifted.
California Democratic member of Congress Sarah Jacobs spoke to the group about what may be ahead.
President-elect Trump has complained that the military is too woke. His nominee for Defense Secretary, Pete Hegseth, has spoken against transgender troops and DEI. Hegseth himself has been accused of sexual assault.
Jacobs, who sits on the House Armed Services Committee, said she’d fight for the community..
“I will be doing everything I can to make sure that we protect the gains that we’ve made – that we protect the end of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, that we protect the end of the trans ban, and that we protect every service member who wants to serve our country as their most authentic self,” Jacobs said during a short speech.
In one of its final acts, the Biden Administration in October proactively upgraded the discharges of veterans forced out under Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Other LGBTQ troops who were kicked out before 1994 still have to petition individually for discharge upgrades.
That’s what Marine veteran Randye Hedgecoke successfully did last year. She was discharged after a year and a half due to what the Marines said was “sexual perversion.”
She said the center is helping restore honor, dignity and respect to people whose military contributions might otherwise be forgotten.
“We found it necessary to hide ourselves,” Hedgecoke said. “Leave no man behind? We were not only left behind, we were tossed out. Our service was not valued equal to any other military member.”
This story was produced by the American Homefront Project, a public media collaboration that reports on American military life and veterans.
