medical reasons two weeks after basic training
ZACH: I was born April 9, 1987, in Challis, Idaho. My mom had me at a very young age. My father was out of the picture when I was two. Mom dated a lot of older guys in the military. My grandpa was a lieutenant colonel, Green Beret. He would make me fold my bed with hospital corners before I got any presents at Christmas. It was, “Yes, Sir” not “Thanks, Grandpa.” So it was always pushed on me to join the military.
Towards the end of high school, my mom kicked me out of the house. I graduated and came down to Boise State University. My brother was having problems, so I put college on hold. My mom became dependent on pharmaceutical drugs; she had credit cards in my name and ruined my credit. At that time they were offering a $20,000 enlistment bonus. It was a chance to pay off my debt and go back to school with the GI Bill. I wanted to help people, so I chose to be a medic. I swore in on November 1, 2007. The day I graduated from basic training, I shipped off to San Antonio where I started medical training.
San Antonio is much bigger than Boise, so I got to go to my first gay bar. Somebody poured a date-rape drug in my drink. I was going to pass out, so I ran out and fell into a cab. I had my dog tags on, so the cab driver knew where to take me. I ended up waking up in the hospital because I was dehydrated. They did a toxicology report and my platoon sergeant had to do a report on what had happened. They asked where I had been and I had to tell them what bar it was. I used the excuse that I didn’t know it was a gay bar. I didn’t go out for quite a while. I’d spend my weekends on base. I was still scared about being open. Everything was smooth until I got home.
I was stationed with a CAB Scout unit in the medical platoon. I had MySpace, but I didn’t have my profile set to private. Somebody looked me up before I got home and told other members of my platoon that I was gay. People ask me on my first drill if I was gay; they told me it was talked about among some NCOs [noncommissioned officers]. One of them was extremely homophobic and he went to his team leader, a staff sergeant. He was not my team leader, he was not my squad leader, he was not my platoon leader. He was nobody I had to take orders from, but he took time to call my house one night and tell me, “What you do in your personal life had better stay that way. I don’t want to hear about it, I don’t want to see it, and I don’t want to hear any complaints or I’ll go to the commander with this.” He went out of his way to find my number and threaten me, so I figured if he could do that, how far would he be willing to go to find something incriminating against me.
I was seeing Dustin and I was scared because I was our provider. That’s my job. It’s something I’d worked hard to achieve—my rank, my medals. I was terrified that he’d tell, no matter what I did. Whether I played their game or not, they’d turn me in anyway. I turned to my commander. I was very cautious about what I said, but at the same time I’d gone in there unplanned. I’m tiptoeing around the issue, trying not to out myself and trying to let him know what has been going on. I was scrambling for any outlet to get away from them, to not be outed anymore than I already was. I looked at getting transferred to a different unit. I didn’t care if it was ridiculous bullshit training that had nothing to do with my job. I’d go to pre-ranger school if I had to just to get away and not have my livelihood threatened.
When I went in to talk to my commander about the harassment the second time, he said, “Let me set up a meeting between you and me and the squadron commander.” A week later, my unit commander stood behind my squadron commander and didn’t say a thing. The squadron commander said that he’d been informed of the harassment, he’d been informed of my complaints, and one of the first things he said to me was “I have no doubt that eventually Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell will go away. I understand that we’ve been having some problems, however Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell isn’t gone.” That’s all he said to me. And then we got the order that our unit was being deployed to Iraq and we started training.
I was seeing a cardiologist. I had a condition that would not have allowed me to join without written approval from a doctor. And that’s what they used. So in the midst of a deployment, I was discharged—general under honorable conditions—for erroneous enlistment. I lost my insurance and my job. I was told by one of the officers who signed my paperwork, it would be as if I never joined, and my service didn’t mean anything. After three years, they decided to look at my medical records. They were looking to get me out without Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I lost everything I’d worked hard for.
Shortly after I lost my job, I lost my apartment. Medical bills racked up from seeing a cardiologist. I had a hard time finding work for a long time. I went from the military to a seasonal position. I still have all of my medical certifications, but right now, EMTs are not in high demand. My goal is to save up money so I can get back in the medical field.
I hate them for what they did. I don’t understand how people could do that to someone. I keep all of my medical and military documents, all of my certifications, awards, medals. Sometimes I think about framing them because I’m proud of them. I’m proud of what I did. But at the same time, I feel like I’m justifying my service to myself, that I did serve. I would hope that my service mattered to someone.
DUSTIN: I was born December 16, 1985, in California. We moved to Colorado when I was twelve. My dad got laid off from his trucking job, lost everything, so we lived in our motor home for a couple of months and then stayed in Canon City for a year and a half. My parents split up, so me and my dad left for Sterling, Colorado. I wanted to get into law enforcement and one of the things that they look for is military background. I thought that would make my dad proud ’cause he was in the Navy. I was skeptical with my vision; I thought that was going to hold me back, so I lost interest.
My parents had gotten together again and I was dealing with coming out. I tried hiding it. My parents didn’t accept it and to this day I’m really not out about it. Family life went to crap and my parents threw me out of the house and took away my truck. I ended up moving my stuff in with a good friend of mine. He was straight and only had a little one-bedroom apartment. That’s what got me through a lot of it, plus a lot of beer.
My parents retired from the Department of Corrections and they moved up here. I stayed back; I had a good job doing insurance and was licensed. Then that company fell apart. Everybody got laid off. I had nothing and my one roommate wasn’t paying his part of the rent so we were falling behind and my dad’s like, “We’ll come get you.” He brought a truck and we towed my second car and put everything I owned in two cars and a pickup.
[Zach and I] started talking. I finally asked him out and would drive into Boise all the time to see him. I loved him right away. We got an apartment together ‘cause we both were in bad housing situations. We started making our home together and then it was time for him to go on deployment. I’ve always been proud of him, but it was rough on me. I didn’t know if he was going to come back. I was scared. Part of me was grateful for him getting discharged, so I didn’t have to worry about him—he would be with me.
I wanted to be as strong as he was. He’s helped me so much financially, now it was my opportunity to do the same for him. He was the one that gave me the courage and support to do it. I’ve always had an interest in the Marines. I thought they were the most respected. I wanted to be the best of the best. So I sat down with a recruiter. He told me, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is going away, but here at the Marines we don’t accept it. If that’s who you are, you need to find another branch.” I had to sign papers about not being gay.
When I was at the Military Entrance Processing Station [MEPS], they had me do the standard eye test, ‘cause they said I was color blind. They pulled me out of the screenings and sent me to a downtown eye doctor in Boise and did a full eye exam there. According to them, I’m not color blind or as bad as what MEPS was saying. And so they signed off on it and they passed me through. I swore in and when I did, that was honestly one of my proudest moments of my life. I was in tears as I took my oath. I was happy that I was going to be there like Zach and make him
