I think there were seven witnesses, but I remember only four distinct faces. Inside the courtroom, there were high ceilings, brass fixtures, pews for spectators, flags, and wooden jury benches that rose up like stadium seating. Men in dress uniform stood as sentinels at every exit and by every important figure present. But the waiting room for us witnesses was an unadorned office with a long meeting table. The room was tense.
For the first time in my military career, I get the opportunity to speak out publicly. The one lucky thing that happened to us is that we were each Gay military dudes to finish our enlistments and voluntarily leave with honorable discharges before someone had time to dishonorably discharge us with "don't ask, don't tell. Hanson said. Dahmer trying to muffle his screams with a clenched hand. His acknowledgement extended out How to book pornstars an offering, and I was grateful for it, especially because there was something else in his eyes, too, something like admiration. This user has private account. I didn't know what to make of this request, but I did what I was told. There is no consolation for him. Gay military dudes the attack, Mr.
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I think there were seven witnesses, but I remember only four distinct faces. Inside the courtroom, there were high ceilings, brass fixtures, pews for spectators, flags, and wooden jury benches that rose up like stadium seating. Men in dress uniform stood as sentinels at every exit and by every important figure present.
But the waiting room for us witnesses was an unadorned office with a long meeting table. The room was tense. It was the kind of atmosphere that when someone inhaled too deeply, it sent every other occupant into some sort of physical reaction: a cough, a repositioning of a chair, a quick lap around the long table.
All of the others were straight men, except for my ex-boyfriend. Every man in the room had been a victim of sexual assault except me. We'd been in the waiting room for more than a week because the trial was restricted to a nine-to-five schedule. Sailors are issued only one pair of dress blues, our most formal uniform, and after a week of fearful waiting, the smell was intense.
We were told not to talk among ourselves about the trial, which was ongoing, down a hallway with marble floors. Randomly, a court emissary would come into the room, state a name, and escort that individual to the courtroom.
The face that would return to the room would be profoundly changed, but no one was allowed to say anything about what they experienced. We searched the lines of each other's faces, trying to communicate without speech, trying to assuage the trepidation, the shame.
We had been primed for silence, trained efficiently. When I was in boot camp, in Naval Station Great Lakes near Chicago in , the chief in charge of my battalion used to stand at the entrance to the large open shower rooms and watch us. He was in power. We were nothing and had no one to complain to. There were murmurs of him doing more than just watching. He began to pick his favorites. One evening during the period of time when we were required to iron our tighty-whities into perfectly creased squares, the chief called me into his office.
It was situated at the front of the large barracks, with a window that allowed him to look out and watch us. Through that window, he could see everything we did. When I entered his office, he directed me to sit under the window, on the floor, positioning me so that no one outside could see me. Once I was in the spot, he handed me a cookie and he told me to eat it. I didn't know what to make of this request, but I did what I was told.
He watched me as he sat in a chair, a strange expression on his face. He leaned back, his eyes gazing downward at me. When I was released back to the ranks, the guys were concerned, asking me what had happened in there. I told them I had eaten a cookie, but their concern didn't abate.
He continued to call me into his office in the evenings, always a cookie on hand. Then some middle-management petty officers caught him doing something overtly wrong—leering at a lone man in the shower—and they reported him. He was relieved of his position as our lead, but he kept his rank and was put in charge of another unit. Our petty officers apologized to us and said that his conduct was not fitting with our core values. Still, not one of us had a voice in that scenario.
Even as the issue got rectified, we were kept silent. It was only later that I realized what it looked like from the outside of the chief's office as he sat in front of his desk and I ate his cookie on the floor. All you would have been able to see through the window was him leaning back in his chair, a strange expression on his face, his arms lifted to cradle his head in his hands, his eyes looking down at me.
I never heard about him again after they sent him to the new division, and there was no mention of him possibly being gay. The official policy of the US military was still "don't ask, don't tell. The year is In the midst of all this drama, the book is giving me perspective, taking me elsewhere, making me feel less defined by the hapless narrative of this trial and part of the bigger tides of history.
I drop the massive book onto the table with a loud thud. We laugh. There, for a moment, is the face of the man I fell for—gregarious, electric, alive. Too soon, it's gone. I find it almost ironic that he is asking me to become a witness again, sometime in the future, by writing about him, about this. He didn't want me to speak up in the first place. We were in Malaysia when he told me about the assault, told me never to tell.
But I was young and idealistic, and I could not be silent. I confronted the accused. His only words were "I'm sorry. For five months after that I didn't say anything. I asked Danny why he didn't want to come forward.
He said he was ashamed that it had happened to him. It made him feel weak. He didn't want anyone on our ship to know about it. I understood, and I dutifully held that secret. But months later, when our ship sailed back to the Pacific Northwest, I was called to the Naval Criminal Investigative Service NCIS and was specifically questioned about my interaction with the accused.
Caught off guard, and relieved to offload this growing secret, I told them everything that had happened. Turns out, there were other guys on the ship who had come forward with similar stories. It seemed the accused had a pattern. The agent said she couldn't tell me details, but what had happened to Danny had happened to others. The accused was not the same guy as the chief who made me eat the cookies.
But he also had a leadership position and was a pivotal figure in each new sailor's indoctrination into the ship. They had to perform well under his leadership before they were allowed to be an official part of the crew.
Often he made quick friends with the young sailors. This friendship turned into nights out drinking. For Danny, and for the others, a drunken night out would end with the young men passed out. And then, later, according to their accounts, they would wake up in the middle of the night with the accused performing sexual acts on them against their will.
The NCIS agent told me that my account was a pivotal piece of the prosecution, that the death threats were an admission of guilt. But to me, my involvement doesn't seem substantial, and it's predicated on a promise I made to Danny, that I broke. That makes sitting in the waiting room all the more excruciating.
I sit here in a cloud of doubt. I know so little about this trial, and yet I am stuck in the middle of it. I'm escorted into the regal courtroom, with a full cast of the highest brass in the US Navy. The sheer sight of all the ribbons and insignia puts me into a cave in my own mind.
I want to hide, to be anywhere else other than here, to go back in time and not have said anything to anyone. The prosecuting attorney goes over my testimony quickly. For the first time in my military career, I get the opportunity to speak out publicly. Then the defense attorney begins his cross-examination. To my disbelief, he doesn't go after my meager involvement in the case.
He doesn't try to dissuade the jury that the defendant made threats against my life. He doesn't even go into the hearsay quality of what I know about my ex-boyfriend's victimhood. His voice is calm and direct. He asks, "What is your relationship with the other witness in your testimony? The faces of the jury sharpen into focus. I had vaguely feared I would be kicked out for my testimony because of "don't ask, don't tell," but there were more important issues at hand, like serial sexual assault.
It hadn't occurred to me that "don't ask, don't tell" would become the central focus of my testimony. The Southern California sun was something I'd been dreaming of since I was a child.
Now I was I went to grab some frozen yogurt with one of the guys while the rest of the crew went to get some burgers at the other end of the food court. My buddy said he needed to buy something, so I sat alone. The perfect embodiment of the California surfer walked up to me. His smile set me at ease. He was warm and friendly, an athlete in incredible shape. His shirt sat on his body like a jersey on a football player's shoulder pads.
The surfer didn't look away from me. I saw you from across the way.
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Homosexuality in the militaries of ancient Greece was regarded as contributing to morale. Some Greek philosophers wrote on the subject of homosexuality in the military. In Plato 's Symposium , the interlocutor Phaedrus commented on the power of male sexual relationships to improve bravery in the military: . However, the Symposium is a dialectical exploration of the nature of true love, in which Phaedrus' views are soon found to be inadequate compared to the transcendent vision of Socrates, who:.
He preaches no avoidance of the contest with appetite, but rather the achievement of a definite victory over the lower elements of love-passion, and the pursuit of beauty on higher and higher levels until, as in a sudden flash, its ultimate and rewarding essence is revealed. Xenophon , while not criticizing the relationships themselves, ridiculed militaries that made them the sole basis of unit formation:.
The Spartans According to tradition, the Greeks structured military units along tribal lines , a practice attributed to Nestor in the Homeric epics. The Theban military commander Pammenes , however, is supposed to have advocated military organization based on pairs of lovers: .
Homer 's Nestor was not well skilled in ordering an army when he advised the Greeks to rank tribe and tribe For men of the same tribe little value one another when dangers press; but a band cemented by friendship grounded upon love is never to be broken. One such example took place during the Lelantine War between the Eretrians and the Chalcidians. In a decisive battle the Chalcidians called for the aid of a warrior named Cleomachus.
Cleomachus answered their request and brought his lover along with him. He charged against the Eretians and brought the Chalcidians to victory at the cost of his own life. It was said he was inspired with love during the battle.
Afterwards the Chalcidians , erected a tomb for him in their marketplace and reversed their negative view of homosexuality and began to honor it. Ye lads of grace and sprung from worthy stock Grudge not to brave men converse with your beauty In cities of Chalcis, Love, looser of limbs Thrives side by side with courage. The importance of these relationships in military formation was not without controversy.
According to Xenophon , the Spartans abhorred the thought of using the relationships as the basis of unit formation for placing too much significance on sexuality rather than talent. This was due to their founder Lycurgus who attacked lusts on physical beauty regarding it as shameful. Xenophon asserted that in some city-states the lovers would not even have conversations with one another.
He said this type of behavior was horrible because it was entirely based on physical attractions: . If as was evident it was not an attachment to the soul, but a yearning solely towards the body, Lycurgus stamped this thing as foul. Nonetheless city states that employed the practice in determining military formation enjoyed some success.
The Thebans had one such regiment as the core of their entire army. They attributed this group called the Sacred Band of Thebes for making Thebes the most powerful city-state for a generation until its fall to Philip II of Macedon. Philip II of Macedon was so impressed with their bravery during the battle he erected a monument that still stands today on their gravesite. He also gave a harsh criticism of the Spartan views of the band: .
One of the prominent Greek military figures enjoying such a relationship was Epaminondas , considered the greatest warrior-statesmen of ancient Thebes by many, including the Roman historian Diodorus Siculus. He had two male lovers: Asopichus and Caphisodorus , the latter died with him at Mantineia in battle. They were buried together, something usually reserved for a husband and wife in Greek society. Another pair of warrior-lovers— Harmodius and Aristogeiton —credited with the downfall of tyranny in Athens and the rise of democracy became the emblem of the city.
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