A day to celebrate

Forty-five years ago, I enlisted in the U.S. Air Force. It was probably one of the most dynamic periods of my life. I matured over the next four years. I became more self-confident. I learned to manage my life better. I grew up.

But I had to lie in order to put on a blue uniform and follow in the footsteps of my father and my brothers. My desire to make myself proud, to make my parents proud, and to do right as I saw right, meant that I had to deceive.

Today, I received a note from a straight friend, an airman who served with me in Germany. We chat often via e-mail these days.

"Don't Ask -- Don't Tell expired at midnight, and the world kept turning. Isn't it refreshing that there is one less obstacle to serving one's nation? ... God bless you, Don -- and thank you for your service to the nation.

"Will you blog about this event?"

I told him I probably wouldn't. But his touching e-mail -- which is emblematic of this gentle soul I met nearly a half-century ago -- has been on my mind all evening.

I answered him by saying that my orientation made little, if any, discernable difference for me when I was an airman. It just wasn't an issue. There were many of us who were gay at Bitburg and Spangdahlem air bases -- enlisted men and officers who wound up getting to know each other primarily at a small but quirky and amiable bar called Zum Bitchen in Trier, about 30 kilometers away.

(I never knew how the bar got its name, but it has something to do with the German word for "small," and it certainly was.)

In Germany, I was first a surgery medic, then a broadcaster on American Forces Television. There wasn't much prejudice in either specialty. The USAF wasn't conducting any witch hunts that I was aware of. The Vietnam War was at its peak, and I assume that warm bodies in uniform were more important to the establishment than what those warm bodies did in their private lives.

But this is not to say that others didn't have a tough time, a really tough time, because of who they were. It's taken a long time for prejudice to fade just a little, and it's not gone yet.

But we're getting there.

And for that, I am thankful.