Don't forget the unsung heroes -- Native veterans

[blackcrowheart]

Don't forget the unsung heroes -- Native veterans

www.bismarktribune.com/articles/2006/11/11/news/local/123742.txt
<http://www.bismarktribune.com/articles/2006/11/11/news/local/123742.txt\
>

Who's your hero?

Most of us know someone we admire and respect, someone we put on a
pedestal.

These days, as an entire nation, we have tens of thousands of new heroes
to celebrate. These are the men and women who have volunteered to wear a
U.S. military uniform.
The war in Iraq has taken these airmen, soldiers, Marines and seamen far
from the safety of their homes and sent them to foreign lands.

As of last week, 2,842 U.S. troops had died in the war with Iraq.

Another 21,572 troops were wounded.

By now, we all know stories of the dead, the wounded, the heroes.

But we're also a nation with unsung heroes. How many of know us about
Native veterans?

Thankfully, Hollywood - because few mediums beat the power of film - has
taken note of Native contributions to U.S. war efforts, past and
present.

The most recent homage recognizes one particular Marine.

He moved Johnny Cash to record one of his hits.

His image inspired a nation after it was captured in a Pulitzer
Prize-winning photograph taken by Joe Rosenthal in 1945.

Now he's a central character in director Clint Eastwood's October
release of "Flags of Our Fathers."

The World War II photo captured Ira Hayes - a Pima from Arizona's Gila
River Reservation - and five other Marines raising the U.S. flag on
Mount Suribachi at the Battle of Iwo Jima.

When I watched "Flags of Our Fathers" Wednesday, it reminded me of my
interview with Sara Bernal several years ago.

We talked about her uncle, Ira Hayes.

She said she didn't like Johnny Cash's "The Ballad of Ira Hayes."

Call him drunken Ira Hayes

He won't answer anymore

Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian

Nor the Marine that went to war

And now comes the film version. Although we can't escape the
drinking-Indian image, Ojibwe actor Adam Beach offers a moving portrayal
of Hayes in "Flags of Our Fathers."

The film allows an honorable veteran to emerge - one troubled by the
ravages of war washed clean with whiskey. Still, we see a complex
character unfold. We see a man with principles, a man with passion. We
see a man who shuns glory, which finds him nonetheless.

The odds seem slim that a single Native vet would be memorialized by
Johnny Cash, a timeless photo and now an Eastwood film.

But the truth is about 20 percent of all Natives are serving or have
served in the U.S. military, even though they make up only 1 percent of
the U.S. population.

Perhaps it's not coincidence Beach also portrays another Native Marine
in John Woo's 2002 film, "Windtalkers."

The movie takes us into the world of the Navajo Code Talkers, an elite
force of men who used their tribal language to relay complex, coded
messages to and from military frontlines to outwit the Japanese during
World War II.

"These were services that only indigenous people of the United States
could have provided in crucial times of war and it is time they are
recognized appropriately by the government," said Joe Garcia, president
of the National Congress of American Indians.

The Navajo Code Talkers have received Congressional Gold Medals for
their work. But other Native veterans have yet to be recognized for
doing the same thing in World War I and World War II.

We have Choctaw Code Talkers. Lakota, Dakota and Nakota Code Talkers,
Comanche Code Talkers and others.

Men like Eddie Eagle Boy, Elgin Red Elk, Larry Saupitty and Baptiste
Pumpkinseed have never been recognized for helping develop one of the
most sophisticated and successful military codes ever used by U.S.
forces.

Many of these men weren't even recognized as U.S. citizens when they
enlisted in the military, nor did they have a right to vote. Yet Native
code talkers saved the lives of countless Americans.

They are our unsung heroes.

The NCAI is behind legislation introduced last December that would
finally award Congressional Gold Medals to all Native code talkers. The
Code Talkers Recognition Act, H.R. 4597, is long overdue.

We can't drop our salute until all indigenous code talkers receive their
honors.

(Jodi Rave covers Native issues for Lee Enterprises. Reach her at
800-366-7186 or jodi.rave@;lee.net.)

[blackcrowheart]

November 11, 2006
Tama, Ia. - Dustin Roberts took his tobacco to Iraq.

Dixie Kapayou placed hers on Bosnian ground for protection.

Eugene Poweshiek carried his in a film canister in Vietnam.

No Marlboros - this is sacred tobacco from the Meskwaki Settlement near
Tama.

The three grew up on American Indian sovereign land, but fought for
America in more than a century of war.

"This country is made up of people from all different types of
nationalities, and so is the military," said Dustin Roberts, 22, a
Marine who left the settlement to serve two tours of duty in Iraq.

He will be honored during Veterans Day ceremonies today on Meskwaki
lands near Tama.

"We have people from Japan, Africa and Europe, all over the world, all
serving under one nation, because this is the place we call home,"
Roberts said. "This is our home, too."

Roberts paused, then said, "Since the very beginning."

American Indians have fought in every war since the American Revolution
- more than 44,000 of a total population of 350,000 during World War II
alone.

Meskwakis have fought in every war going back to two who participated in
the Civil War. Fifty fought during World War II. Five were killed in
battles during three wars.

"I took a lot of pride being in the Army," said Kapayou, 38, who is
another honoree today and recently retired after 20 years of service,
which included deployments in Bosnia and in Saudi Arabia during
Operation Desert Shield.

She has often heard people wonder how American Indians could risk death
for a country that once kicked them around.

"My response is always that I am one of the first Americans," Kapayou
said.

Here on the settlement, it is an honor to be a warrior. Paintings of
those who fought the Sioux and Iroquois hang on the Tribal Center walls.

Photographs of modern warriors who fought in World Wars I and II, Korea,
Vietnam, the Persian Gulf War and Iraq fill a scrapbook of heroes who
brought to the battlefield a deep history.

"It makes me feel very proud and honored," Roberts said.

Men and women who fought in previous wars will surround them today - men
such as American Legion Post 701 Cmdr. Eugene Poweshiek, as well as
other settlement residents who consider the send-offs and homecomings of
their warriors a vital ritual.

"That's our tribal way, a beginning and an end," said tribal historian
Jonathan Buffalo. "We take it seriously when they go off to war.

"Upon their return, we never judge a warrior. We don't ask too much,"
Buffalo added. "We welcome them and let them live, because they become
fathers and grandfathers, and that is how we will see them from now on."

History of conflict

Roberts joined the Marine Corps after graduation from South Tama High
School in 2002.

"I felt like it was something I needed to do," he said via telephone
from his base in North Carolina.

He was sent off with traditional Meskwaki prayer. His father, Glenn,
said he was proud. He pressed the tobacco into his son's hands and then
spent the next two years biting his nails in worry.

"My father always prayed for me when I was on leave to make sure I was
taken care of," Dustin Roberts said. "We go to pray and dance and offer
tobacco. He tells the spirits to look after me."

Buffalo said that tobacco is a sacred plant used to "communicate with
our gods."

"In traditional Meskwaki warrior teachings, you do take your god to
war," Buffalo said. "One thing Meskwaki soldiers bring to war is we
don't forget the people praying for your safety back home.

"First we pray for peace. But if our country is going to war with our
girls and boys, we pray for the safe return of the young. We pray for
their physical skill, even if that means killing the enemy."

Roberts spent six months in Iraq in 2005 working security at an air
base, and this year he had a seven-month tour of duty in a
dangerous-incident response platoon, facing sniper fire and conducting
explosive ordnance disposal.

"We were lucky to get out without any injuries," he said.

When Roberts was a boy, his parents divorced and he didn't see much of
his sister, Melanie. When they got together, they fought.

But upon his boot camp graduation in California, he looked in the crowd
and saw his mother, father and sister. "My relationship with her has
changed," he said.

The Marine Corps, he said, made him a better man.

"I wasn't social. I was quiet and to myself," Roberts said. "The Marine
Corps made me more talkative and able to do things I never thought I
would be able to do. It has given me a lot of confidence."

Meskwaki soldiers were called "spearmen" and protected the people on
their land, visible among them with their spears and chest protection.

A warrior went off to fight distant battles, usually against other
tribes. Kiskekosh, a legendary warrior among Meskwakis, is still honored
today.

Even the Meskwaki flag recognizes its history of conflict. The bottom is
red, symbolizing the reality of war and death. The top is green for
peace and new hope.

Proud tradition

American Indians never gave up their sovereignty, Buffalo said, but they
were prohibited from maintaining an army in the early 19th century.

"We transferred that sovereignty to the president. So we are there to
help the U.S.," Buffalo said.

As citizens, American Indians were eligible for the draft but many
volunteered.

"Our men and women wanted to fight in the world wars to prove they were
just as good as Americans," Buffalo said. "Our soldiers are proving
that. Some paid with their lives."

Poweshiek, 68, carried a proud tradition with him to Vietnam. His
great-great-grandfather Chief Poweshiek was a noted warrior, promoter of
peace and namesake of the nearby county. His father served in World War
II.

The younger Poweshiek was drafted in 1960. To earn $55 more per month to
pay child support after a divorce, he joined the Green Berets. He saw
significant combat in four years and three tours.

He carried his sacred tobacco in a film canister and was once accused by
a superior of possessing marijuana.

"I saw so much over there that I eventually got scared," he said. "I
kept thinking my luck had run out. I wasn't a coward but I didn't want
to get anybody hurt."

He survived and today lives on the settlement as a warrior.

Returning home

Kapayou enlisted in the 1980s because of the limited job opportunities
near the settlement.

She served with a photography crew that took photos of land mines in
Bosnia.

"November is Native America Heritage month in the military," said
Kapayou, who was a graphics illustrator. "It's ironic. It's also the
month we celebrate Thanksgiving.

"It was hard being by myself. I tried to keep up with my traditions, but
I lost a my language a little bit at a time."

So in the mud and rain and cold of Bosnia, Kapayou laid out her tobacco
for protection.

Her retirement program included art of a camouflaged soldier whose pond
reflection is of traditional warrior dress.

Today she will be welcomed home among the heavy forests along the Iowa
River.

It is the land they thought of often on foreign soil.

"I had this picture in my mind," Roberts said. "I always knew it was
going to be there, just so peaceful. The same warm place when I
returned."