Pride and Prejudice : For African American Servicewomen, the Battles Were Many

For Bilinda Hemphill-Osburne, Memorial Day evokes bittersweet memories of her tour as an Air Force administration specialist stationed in West Germany in 1970, at the height of the Vietnam War.

Although the Santa Clarita Valley resident may have been spared a front-line view of the atrocities of war, Hemphill-Osburne still fought the battles of sexism and racism like so many of her African American sisters-in-arms.

“I had this old sergeant who refused to give me a professional review report unless I [was intimate] with him,” recalled Hemphill-Osburne, who is among 1,000 patients receiving low-cost care at the Women Veterans Health Center at the Sepulveda VA Medical Center.

Although there are no official records documenting the number of African American women who served in Vietnam during the war, there are 27,250 black women Vietnam-era veterans in America, representing 20% of all who served in the conflict, according to 1990 U.S. Census data.

They will be among the nation’s 1.8 million military women to be recognized in October, when the $21.5-million Women in Military Service for America Memorial is dedicated at Arlington National Cemetery, honoring women warriors from the American Revolution to the present.

Generations of African American women have played a largely unacknowledged role in every American conflict from the Civil War--when Harriet Tubman served as a scout for the Union Army--to Desert Storm.

Like their male counterparts, many African American women Vietnam veterans suffered from depression, fear, confusion and fatigue. Beyond those conditions, however, many endured isolation and racial slights as well as sexual harassment and assault.

In Hemphill-Osburne’s case, “I reported him right away and he was forced to retire.”

Hemphill-Osburne said she was also privy to racial slurs by some white personnel who mistook her as a white woman because of her light complexion.

“I was in a restroom and overheard two women talking negatively about a black person,” she recalled. “When I came out of the stall, they said, ‘You know what we mean,’ and I said, ‘No I don’t, because I’m black.’ ”

Even though racist and sexist attitudes persisted around her, Hemphill-Osburne said she didn’t allow them to diminish her spirit.

“Looking back, I had a positive experience,” she said. “I feel like I did a good thing as a black woman for my country.”

Hemphill-Osburne said her military service--and subsequent veterans benefits--helped her obtain a degree from Cal State Northridge, secure a low-interest mortgage for her north Valley home and receive low-cost health care at the Women Veterans Health Center, where she goes for routine checkups.

Although Hemphill-Osburne came through her wartime service relatively unscathed, other African American military women have struggled for years to salve their psychological wounds.

To break the cycle of pain, women veterans of all races and any conflict seek relief at the VA women’s center, where counselor Callie Wight helps them come to terms with the lingering effects of war.

Many servicewomen continue to wrestle with the shame, guilt, pain and anger of having been sexually assaulted, not by the enemy, but by men on the same side of the firing line, Wight said.

Others, especially nurses and medical technicians, she said, are still haunted by the bloody results of warfare: maimed body parts and a constant stream of dead and dying men, many of whom were only a few years younger than the women trying to save them.

An estimated 7,000 American women of all races were stationed in Vietnam during the war, mainly as nurses, Department of Veterans Affairs and Defense Department figures show. Eight military women who died in the war are memorialized on the Wall of Names in Washington.

But black women serving in Vietnam, in particular, suffered from feelings of isolation because they had few peers who could relate to their experiences, said Dr. Lisa Altman, the center’s clinical director.

“There was isolation upon isolation for black women,” Altman said. “All trauma is harder to go through the farther you are away from home, family and a support system. Black women were very vulnerable to this.”

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As a result of their traumatic wartime experiences, many women Vietnam veterans have suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder, the symptoms of which include depression, nightmares, insomnia, anger, hyperactivity and, in some instances, flashbacks, Wight said.

Renee Hopwood, an outreach coordinator for New Directions, a veterans support center in West Los Angeles, had no idea what PTSD was or that she would eventually suffer its effects when she enlisted in the Navy after graduating from high school in 1970.

Hopwood trained for three years in the states before shipping out in 1973 for an agonizing three-year tour as a medical technician aboard the hospital ship Sanctuary anchored in the South China Sea.

She vividly remembers climbing aboard a medical helicopter on the ship’s flight deck and flying to the perimeter of the combat zone to aid the wounded or “bag and tag” the dead.

“The hardest part of my job was not to fall apart while I was trying to put someone back together,” she said. “We tried to give them hope and not go crazy ourselves. I just kept saying, ‘I ain’t gonna die here.’ ”

After returning to Los Angeles in 1976, Hopwood worked in the medical field for four years before succumbing to PTSD symptoms. She got hooked on crack cocaine and turned to prostitution to support her habit, she said.

“I was sitting in this alleyway with other crackheads,” Hopwood recalled. “The scene just faded. Everything turned to black and white. All I could see was smoke curling up out of their skeletons. I knew I didn’t want to be there anymore.”

Hopwood later turned herself in to authorities, served nearly eight months at the county’s Sybil Brand Institute for Women for various drug and theft charges, entered a drug-treatment program in 1995 and is now earning credit toward a counseling degree at UCLA.

Although she has seemingly made some sense of her wartime experiences, Hopwood said Memorial Day conjures conflicting emotions rooted in her belief that black women have not received proper recognition for their service in America’s most unpopular war.

“Memorial Day brings up many issues that have never been addressed: The day is a memorial to who and for what? Is everyone who participated being honored?” Hopwood asked. “When Americans hear ‘veterans,’ they think about white men, not about black women, but we were there too.”

Hopwood added, however, that she is grateful to be clean and sober and moving forward in her life.

“I’m doing great. I love my life. I’m glad that I am helping other [veterans],” she said, “because a lot of people came back from Vietnam with bodies, but no souls.”