Saturday, July 29 at Darling’s Chrysler Dodge Ram Hyundai dealership at 439 Western Avenue in Augusta.
I served in the US Air Force from November 1967 to September 1971. I never left the U.S., so my story is not about getting shot at nor about wading through the swamps of Vietnam. My story is about how the civil rights struggles of the 1960s and 1970s impacted the military which was not immune from those struggles.
Most of my time in the Air Force was spent as a non-commissioned office in the military justice branch of the Office of the Judge Advocate General at two Strategic Air Command bases &8212; Vandenberg AFB, California, and Loring AFB, Maine. But for more than a year before transferring to the JAG’s office at Vandenberg, I worked as a photographer, taking pictures of dented fenders for the air police, re-enlistment ceremonies and photos for the base newspaper. In that role, I got to know a very senior NCO who oversaw the base information office and edited the newspaper. His name was Milton White, and he had risen through the military after growing up on the south side of Chicago. A black man, Chief Master Sergeant White had finished high school, obtained a college degree and eventually earned a Ph.D. in political science, all while serving on active duty.
Sgt. White also taught college courses in the evening at the nearby Santa Barbara campus of the University of California. I took one his political science classes which focused on how African-American voters were taken for granted by the Democratic Party and how they should use their political leverage to encourage policies that supported their efforts at economic development and equality.
After transferring to the JAG’s office, I worked in the same building as the Information Office. Sgt. White and I had been on friendly terms but were not close. One day, he came into the JAG’s office and asked to speak to one of the lawyers. My job as a three-stripe sergeant was to draft up documents related to military justice proceedings, including Article 15 and Article 32 charges. At one point, the lawyer–one of several captains in the office–came out of his office after meeting for some time with Sgt. White, and came to my desk with some notes, asking me to draft up court-martial charges. This was not unusual; I had done it a number of times–except for one important difference: the charges were being brought against the base commander, Colonel Sweetland, by Chief Master Sergeant White.
Sgt. White alleged that Colonel Sweetland had violated the civil rights of other members of the Air Force in two ways: 1) he had ordered airmen in uniform to go to nearby downtown Santa Maria and sell tickets to the Elks Rodeo parade, at a time when the Elks Club still refused to accepts blacks into its membership, and 2) he had thrown a social club off the base after its first meeting at the base officers’ club because the commander alleged it discriminated against whites, something Sgt. White disputed.
The club was organized as a cultural awareness group by Sgt. White and others. Its stated purpse was to encourage discussion and understanding among members of the Air Force of different races. But what apparently what was too much for the colonel to accept was the name chosen by the group at its first meeting: The Malcolm X Association of Vandenberg Air Force Base.
What most Americans knew about Malcolm X at the time, if they knew anything at all about him, was that he had been a member of the Nation of Islamic that espoused the separation of the races. But by the time of the formation of this group, Malcolm X had changed his views and advocated cooperation among the races. This ultimately lead to his death at the hands of members of the Nation of Islam. But this piece of recent history was lost on Colonel Sweetland who was incensed by the group’s name.
My curiosity prompted me to find out more about the Malcolm X Association of Vandenberg AFB which had been forced to move off base and began meeting at the local public high school. I asked Sgt. White if I could attend a meeting and he encouraged me to do so. I was invited to join the group, although I don’t recall seeing any other whites at that first meeting.
The base commander justified forcing the group off base on the grounds that its membership was not open to blacks, something that was clearly not true, and despite the fact that the British Officers Wives’ Club, with its obviously ethnic-based membership, was permitted to meet on base.
At about this time, Sgt. White was in the midst of a divorce and was experiencing a lot of stress, having filed court-martial charges against his commanding officer. As I would learn from one of this senior NCO colleagues later, he had gone to the base hospital, apparently for either some counseling or a prescription, and disappeared for weeks. When he finally reappeared, he told a tale of having been whisked away from Vandenberg AFB in a straight-jacket and flown to Wilford Hall, a large Air Force hospital in Texas with a psychiatric unit. After being kept in isolation for several weeks, Sgt. White was able to persuade a nurse that he was not crazy and was being kept against his will. She contacted the local chapter of the ACLU, and shortly thereafter, Sgt. White was permitted to return to Vandenberg. I eventually heard directly from him about that whole saga.
I became so upset at what I was seeing that I decided to contact some higher authority to let them know of the injustices I was observing. I settled on the idea of sending a telegram to Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird. I recall that it was 144 words long, and how the woman at the base’s Western Union office was quite curious about its text. But she sent it anyway. In it, I reviewed what I knew of the actions of Colonel Sweetland with respect to the Elks Club Rodeo Parade and the Malcolm X Association of Vandenberg AFB. I pointed out that the group did not exclude whites, as evidenced by my membership. Unfortunately, I have no copy of that telegram now.
Having violated the chain of command by sending a telegram directly to the Secretary of Defense, I fully expected to be hauled off in irons. But nothing happened for weeks, until I eventually received a letter from some colonel in the Pentagon telling me they were in receipt of my letter and would investigate. I doubt anything ever came of my complaint. Later, I received orders to Vietnam and, with the help of one of the lawyers I worked with, made an appointment with a friend of his who worked in the civil rights division of the Department of Defense at the Pentagon. I met this friend–a civilian lawyer–during my trip to Maine for my leave before shipping overseas (those orders later got changed and I was transferred instead to Loring AFB, Maine).
My Air Force lawyer friend had told me not to meet with anyone in a uniform. But after meeting this civilian lawyer, he said he would like someone else to join us. He left the room then shortly returned along with a tall, black man, a full colonel in an Army uniform, who strode into the room like he owned it. Realizing I had no choice but to go ahead with my reason for making the appointment, I told them about Colonel Sweetland, the Elks Rodeo Parade, the court-martial charges and Sgt. White’s being essentially kidnapped for several weeks. At the end of my report, the colonel slammed his fist on the the desk and said, “We gotta get that son of a bitch (meaning Sweetland).” I said, “Sir, you may be too late. I think Colonel Sweetland has retired.” After more discussion, a few pleasantries and their thanks yous, I left the Pentagon.
During the time of these experiences, a lot was going on in the military that reflected the social and racial tensions of the country at large. Most notable of these events was the race riot and near-mutiny about the aircraft carrier USS Kitty Hawk in October 1972 while it was steaming toward Vietnam. While nothing perhaps came of my specific complaints, there were changes in the military regarding racial relations as a result of many incidents and, eventually, changes in attitudes.
In doing some research for this essay, I stumbled across the website for Vandenberg Air Force on which I found a number of photographs. One was of a 2007 Diversity Day event on the base (see attached). It showed two people on a stage. One, a black woman in civilian clothes but identified as being assigned to one of the squadrons on base who was speaking at a lecturn. Nearby was a black man in uniform wearing the rank of captain and pilot’s wings who was putting together the pieces of a large puzzle on an easel. The puzzle comprised photographs of figures from black history, including leaders of the civil rights movement. Among the photographs were those of Martin Luther King Jr., Thurgood Marshall, various entertainers and…Malcolm X.