Chicago LGBT Veteran Salute recalls the moment of battle

A June 27 sun beat down on downtown Chicago’s Daley Plaza as representatives from American Veterans for Equal Rights (AVER) local chapter held their annual salute to America’s LGBT veterans.

However, when U.S. Army Military Police combat veteran and AVER member Heather Yang gave an extraordinarily courageous and moving speech, she demonstrated that, compared to the heat of battle, the blazing temperature of the day might as well have been that of winter.

Yang spoke following the presentation and posting of colors by the AVER Color Guard and a stirring rendition of the National Anthem provided by International Mr. Leather Show Director Dean Ogren.

LGBT veterans from the U.S. Navy, Army, Coast Guard, National Guard and Air Force were present as U.S. Army and Illinois National Guard veteran Larry Simpson called for a moment of silence “in memory of all American Veterans who have gone on before us and especially for our LGBT Veterans, many of whom had to serve in silence about their personal lives.”

“Today we especially remember the 49 lives taken in Orlando on 12 June,” Simpson added, struggling to contain his emotions.

James Darby, AVER board president, co-founder of the Chicago Chapter of the organization and a U.S. Navy Veteran who served in the Korean War, noted that two of the slain individuals at the Pulse nightclub massacre were veterans—Angel Candelario-Padro who served in the Puerto Rico National Guard and the U.S. Army Reserve and Antonio Davon Brown who served in the U.S. Army Active Reserve.

A Proclamation from Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel was read and delivered by City of Chicago Commission on Human Relations Chair and Commissioner Mona Noriega.

“We kicked off Pride by commemorating and honoring those lives lost in Orlando,” Noriega said before reading the proclamation. “I also want to say thank you to the first responders who went into danger. We owe all of them a debt of gratitude.”

The June 23 proclamation, in part, read “Whereas throughout the history of America, Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Americans of diverse yet converging backgrounds have fearlessly defended the principals of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of these United States through their service in the United States Armed Forces side-by-side with their heterosexual counterparts and it is generally recognized that the catalyst for the modern gay civil-rights movement—the Stonewall Uprising of 1969—sparked unified resistance to the widespread injustices faced by all in our greater LGBT community leading to a resurgence of political, economic and community activism to gain these rights.

“Whereas, while making history day in and day out, American Veterans for Equal Rights has also witnessed extraordinary cultural shifts in the rolling out of the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell Repeal Act of 2010 allowing LGBT-identified citizens to serve openly and proudly in the United States Armed Forces,” the proclamation continued, “and whereas the members of the Chicago chapter of AVER persist in their tireless work toward a more perfect union affirming to all, they continue to selflessly give of their time, resources and expertise to improve the lives of all veterans, I, Rahm Emanuel, do hereby proclaim June 30 to be Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Veterans of America Day in Chicago and encourage all Chicagoans to acknowledge and salute these outstanding veterans for their brave sacrifice, unwavering dedication to our country and ongoing contributions to the City of Chicago.”

A native of Buffalo, N.Y. who joined the military in 1996, Yang provided a visceral illustration of Emanuel’s sentiments.

“I was only 17 when I enlisted,” Yang said. “I spent 16 weeks completing basic training and moving on to advanced individual training. After graduation I returned to New York to enter the 105th MP [Military Police] Company where I was assigned to 1st Platoon. When I was told that, I thought there must have been some kind of mistake because it was a well-known fact that there were no females in 1st Platoon.”

“I showed up for the first formation and I was met with more than a few judgmental looks,” she added. “This was the first time a woman was standing in these ranks and I knew I would have a lot to prove.”

Yang’s company was sent to New York City Sept. 11, 2001.

“We arrived just hours after the Towers had come down and it’s almost impossible to describe the sights, sounds and smells from that month that I spent there,” she said. “We worked alongside FEMA and it was beyond emotionally draining. The one bright spot was how much we all bonded, supported and uplifted one another.”

Yang noted that the bond between the members of 1st Platoon was strong enough for them to face deployment to Iraq on Valentine’s Day 2003 where they remained for 16 months.

“I was 24 years old when we left,” she said. “During our deployment, we lost two members of our company; my friends Sergeant Heath McMillin and Specialist Michael Williams. Both were killed on action by improvised explosive devices.”

“My squad, platoon and company were attacked more times than I can remember,” Yang added. “But one particular attack, I don’t think I will ever be able to forget.”

She described the three days 3rd Squad was assigned to the top of a hill halfway between their base camp and the city of Baghdad in order to “relay messages from one point to another.”

“I had a bad feeling about going that day,” Yang said. “I couldn’t pinpoint why. My gunner and still one of my very best friends kept reassuring me that everything was going to be fine and there was nothing to worry about.”

Yang was listening to Radiohead on her headphones when she “first heard a noise that I have now come to dread and fear.”

“I ripped my headphones off and heard everyone yelling at me ‘Get in the bunker!'” she said. “Without question, I grabbed my Kevlar [body armor] and made the mad dash to our poor excuse of a bunker which we built into the hilltop. I’m still unsure whose hand it was, but a hand stretched out, grabbed my vest and pulled me into the bunker just as the first mortar hit the hill.”

Yang seemed to be forcing herself to continue with the story—the very act of reliving it causing her voice and body to tremble.

“All 10 of us [were] crammed into this small bunker,” she remembered. “Mortar after mortar hit the top, side and base of the hill. I remember thinking to myself ‘is this what an earthquake feels like?’ The squad took a second to regroup and we headed back out to fight.”

Yang told her friend, “I don’t want to die here. Not like this.”

“He grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes and said ‘I promise you, we are not going to die. Not tonight.’ When I stepped out of the bunker, it was almost like I’d stepped into a movie. Tracer rounds were screaming through the air and our squad leader was yelling out orders while firing his weapon from the Humvee. It was like everything was happening in slow motion.”

Realizing that there was no one manning it, Yang said she “jumped on the radio and, in the calmest voice I could muster, called back a situation report.”

“Nothing could have prepared me for how loud it was on top of that hill,” Yang remembered. “Thankfully, 3rd Platoon was currently on patrol. Waiting for them to arrive was the longest 10 minutes of my life. I never left my post in spite of the constant mortars and gunfire. Just as 3rd Platoon was radioing back to me that they were at the base of the hill, I heard that unmistakable thud of a mortar being launched and it was close. There was really nothing we could do at that point but to duck down and cross our fingers.”

“We were outnumbered and the small arms fire and mortars showed no signs of stopping,” Yang said. “We were like sitting ducks so the decision to leave the hill was made. Everyone went to start their Humvees.”

One of the Humvees had a dead battery.

“I did the only thing I could think of. I jumped out of my truck, grabbed the military version of jumper cables, hooked them up to my truck and ran to the dead [Humvee] to connect them,” Yang said. “I was never so happy to hear that other Humvee start in my entire life. I had hooked up the cables just as two more thuds were heard and I jumped back into my driver’s seat. As I shut the door, the mortars hit the hillside and we took off with everyone from my squad safely in tow.”

“Some of the guys in the platoon always had doubts about me; that I could really handle being in combat as a woman,” Yang remembered. “But when they thanked me and hugged me for getting them off that hill, I knew I had changed their minds and I would never be doubted again.”

For her actions, Yang was awarded the Army Commendation Medal of Valor.

She ended her service in 2005 and moved to Chicago.

“The years I spent in the military and the people I served with helped me to become the strong, proud and confident woman that I am today even though it did come with its downfalls,” Yang said. “I suffer with anxiety and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. Every time I am able to share my story, I let other servicemembers know that they are not alone. It gets easier and makes it all worth it.”

As they applauded Yang’s speech, the audience took a breath along with her.

Under the haunting sounds of Echo Taps played by Lakeside Pride Marching Band members Susan Jones and Melissa Terrell, a wreath was laid at the Daley Center Eternal Flame—a lasting memorial to those whose stories must live on in people like Yang and her fellow AVER members.

They are stories which must be told and passed down through future generations so they will never take the word “sacrifice” and the blood in which it is defined for granted.

For more details about AVER, See www.averchicago.org/.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eNvHKvEEE