In July, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors voted 8-3 to reject a resolution that would have endorsed the permanent moorage of the retired battleship USS Iowa at the Embarcadero. The resolution, which was supported by the U.S. Navy, would have helped move toward the establishment of a floating museum and memorial to all service members during peacetime and war.
It may be hard to understand why anyone would oppose a memorial to the troops. But the supervisors did not want to establish a symbol of war and violence on the San Francisco waterfront, and some used their votes to register their disapproval of the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy that prevents gays and lesbians from serving openly in uniform.
As a gay man who graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis and who served honorably onboard a ship during the first Gulf War, I can certainly understand why the supervisors object to the military's tradition of antigay discrimination. In fact, I appreciate the message of that vote, and hope that it made the Navy think again about the harmful DADT policy and its impact on military readiness – not to mention the additional stresses put on an invisible community of LGBT service members. But I am excited about the idea of designating USS Iowa as a "peace ship," with a distinct Bay Area message for its visitors.
The original proposal was to use USS Iowa's permanent onboard exhibition to tell the story of the ship's heroic role in three different wars, as well as conveying the history of the U.S. Navy's presence in the Bay Area. This educational installation would have attracted half a million visitors each year.
But consider this: the USS Iowa is the ideal platform for documenting the experiences of minorities who, despite a discriminatory work environment in the military, chose to volunteer their service and their very lives in defense of our freedoms.Â
What is the relationship between a scarred battleship and the discrimination faced by thousands of minorities throughout the history of the U.S. military? This battleship, the first of four ships in the Iowa Class, was commissioned in 1943. Just a few years later, the United States military made a move to integrate African Americans into the armed services.
In April 1945 important events were happening globally. President Franklin D. Roosevelt died, and Vice President Harry S. Truman was sworn in. Fighting in Europe raged. Japan brooded. And delegates from around the world began to make their way to our Fairmont Hotel where the charter for the United Nations was drafted. San Francisco was in the spotlight at an important moment in history.
During this same time the USS Iowa emerged from repairs at Mare Island and sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge en route to the far western Pacific theater. Her charge was to engage hostile aircraft and protect our fleet as it pushed toward Okinawa. Just a few months later, she steamed into Tokyo Bay for the formal Japanese surrender on September 2.
Yet battles of a different kind would soon rage within the ranks of our own armed forces. As time passed, many minority groups faced distinct challenges in their efforts to integrate into the armed services: African Americans, Native Americans, Asian Americans, gay and lesbian Americans, women, and others. As military regulations changed to be more inclusive and representative of society, other victories for awareness and equality were won.
The USS Iowa, whose lifetime mirrors several decades of civil rights advances within the military, was decommissioned in 1993. She served this nation honorably for many years. Today the battleship's sleek hull sits in Suisun Bay, her teak decks quiet as she waits for her next calling.
Is it just a coincidence that this ship is named for a state in the Heartland? Imagine a major tourist attraction at the Embarcadero where visitors would not only take home a postcard and a shot glass, but also a greater understanding of other battles waged during peacetime and war. The contributions of all soldiers, sailors, and officers would be honored. And potentially with each visit to USS Iowa, a seed would be planted, allowing Bay Area values to be shared in perpetuity, and enabling an important chapter of our nation's history to be revealed.
Jeff Petrie served onboard USS Kirk in the early 1990s, homeported in Long Beach – the same home as USS New Jersey and USS Missouri, two of the four Iowa Class battleships. Today he lives in San Francisco, and is the president of the gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and supporting straight organization of United States Naval Academy alumni called USNA Out, now counting 79 civilian members. For more information, visit www.usnaout.org.