Standing up for America.
On September 5, 1967, I stood straight and tall in a large auditorium on Fort Sill, Oklahoma with more than one hundred men in my Army OCS class. We raised our right hands and swore to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. We were given our diplomas as our wives or parents pinned the bars representing our rank on our dress uniforms. Virtually every man in that room would soon find himself deep in the jungles of Vietnam. Many would not return from that war.
On November 3, 1968, I stood at attention in formation with more than 100 men in Bravo Company, 2nd of the 7th Cav, 1st Air Cavalry Division. We were less than five miles east of the Cambodian border. Our uniforms were filthy and so were we. None of us had slept in more than two days. We were skinny and hungry, but we couldn’t eat because adrenaline flowed in our veins and the thirty caliber rounds that had been popping too close to our heads the day before made our stomachs inhospitable to food. In front of us were an American flag and three M-16 rifles standing straight and tall on combat bayonets. The helmets of the three men killed the prior day were resting on the rifles. We were deeply engaged with a North Vietnamese force that was well-supplied, highly-trained, and outnumbered us five to one. The Chaplain’s voice and words were soothing, but his prayer for our safety fell short of the encouragement and comfort he sought to offer. We raised our right hands in reverent salute as the bugler played the solemn notes of “Taps.”
Like me, many of these soldiers had been athletes in high school and college. They were tough, competitive men, volunteers and draftees. Each one would have gladly given his life for the man standing beside him. Some did.
Today the survivors of that war and others wear the scars of their battles deep inside, well beneath the surface of their aging skin and graying hair. They are patriots still. The oaths they swore and the allegiances they pledged remain real to them. They stand for the flag and the national anthem. Some, like me, salute. Some place their right hands over their hearts. They are the embodiment of the words Duty, Honor, Country.
And so it is painful to watch young athletes show disrespect for the country that has nurtured them. It cuts deeply to see those who have benefited immensely from the sacrifices of others turn their backs on what is dear to those who once stood straight and tall for their country and flag.
It is sadder still that there is a racial element to this movement. For me, I can say absolutely that black lives matter. I have committed my life from an early age to reach out to, support and engage with people of color. I have slept in homeless shelters and helped provide food for hungry children, regardless of race. I have provided meaningful financial support to those in need and I have deep and lasting relationships with black friends. Black lives most certainly matter to me.
But I am a patriot. I love my country, regardless of who is currently serving as president or in any high office. In Vietnam, we didn’t fight for President Johnson or President Nixon. We fought for America, and for those hundred men who stood together, black and white and Hispanic, or at least that’s the way we saw it.
Each of us has a different experience and, therefore, perspective on America. I see her as the greatest country in the world, a place where anyone who is willing to work hard and offer their services or talent in exchange for advancement has great opportunity. Only in America could a gifted and highly-disciplined young athlete from a challenging background achieve enormous wealth and fame for advancing or impeding the advance of a leather ball across a grass field.
On the other hand, I understand that my life has been different from that of others. I acknowledge that there is discrimination in America and I am willing to stand up to it, to fight it aggressively and to support those who are harmed. It is in this context that I want to say to say these words to the athletes who refuse to stand for our flag and anthem. My brothers and I have stood for you. We stand for you still. Consider the sacrifice of those rifles standing straight and tall in the soils of foreign countries throughout the world when you decide the posture that is right for you.
