Nov 22, 2007  |  By: KATHERINE VOLIN  | COMMENTS     

The terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, swamped the military with a multitude of projects and created an urgent need for Arabic-speaking linguists. The problems inherent in an American society that speaks only one language suddenly came into full view: without enough linguists to interrogate suspects, speak with civilians or translate wiretap recordings, the military was missing out on critical knowledge.

Enter Alexander Nicholson. He joined the military and trained to become a human intelligence officer, a desperately needed position that requires linguistic training. Prior to entering the military, he spoke four languages, and as any linguist could tell you, learning additional languages wouldn’t be difficult for him. 

But the military expelled Nicholson for being gay just six months after Sept. 11. Despite the move, his government career wasn’t over. Shortly after being kicked out by the military, the Department of Defense stepped in and paid for Nicholson to learn Arabic as a civilian.

“Right after they kicked me out under ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’, they recognized me for advanced linguistic study and gave me a ton of money to live in Egypt and learn Arabic,” says Nicholson, who is now 26.

Nicholson’s linguistic training didn’t end after Egypt, either. He’s currently teaching himself the Iraqi dialect of Arabic. Of course, he won’t be able to use it in the military as long as “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” is around, so he’s also working to help repeal the ban.

In 2005 while studying at North Georgia Military College, Nicholson founded Servicemembers United, for young military veterans who oppose the ban. Nicholson and his boyfriend had both been offered full rides to GMC because the school’s administration found their situation as two former military personnel kicked out under “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” “funny” says Nicholson.

It was while driving around Dahlonega, Ga., on Memorial Day that Nicholson got his latest idea for activism.

“They put up American flags everywhere,” Nicholson says. “They line all of the roads in that area with American flags and I thought it was such a neat idea and each one represented a veteran from that area.” The bold representation struck a chord and Nicholson got the idea to put flags on the National Mall to represent all of the service members dismissed under DADT.

THE NUMBER OF FLAGS is 12,000, and Nicholson’s organization is working with the Human Rights Campaign and the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network, among others, to create the presentation, which will go up on Nov. 30, the 14th anniversary of DADT being signed into law. The display coincides with a host of community events, including a happy hour, a breakfast and a prayer service.

“Events have to be really visual and tell a story,” says Antonio Agnone, 27, who is heading up HRC’s end of the 12,000 Flags presentation. “Sometimes stories simply stated tend to have the most impact.”

Agnone got involved in the project after he completed his four-year service  obligation to the Marines. He, like Nicholson, didn’t want to leave the military, but Agnone left because after meeting his partner at President Bush’s 2005 inauguration, his priorities changed.

“I started to have to pay attention to the onuses that ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ places on my relationship,” Agnone says.

When they were living in North Carolina, the couple got a house an hour away from the military base so they wouldn’t be noticed. Agnone was deployed to Iraq and things got even more complicated. The first time he was fired on, he found himself wondering about Brandon, his partner.

“If I would have gotten hit, would the military have let Brandon know? … The answer was ‘no,’” Agnone says. “Would he have been able to come see me? The answer was still ‘no.’ My job was dealing with explosives. I got rid of IEDs [Improvised Explosive Devices].”

If Brandon were hurt, Agnone wouldn’t necessarily be allowed to go home and take care of him. The weight of living under “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” started to take its toll on Agnone.

“When I got back from the desert, we decided as a family as much as I wanted to stay in, it just wasn’t going to happen. I simply put everything down and walked away,” he says. “I held one of the most important jobs in Iraq.”  According to Agnone, 80 percent of the casualties in Iraq are caused by IEDs.

“I feel like ...