The last battle: with increasing pressure on Congress to repeal "don't ask, don't tell," a group of out veterans unveils a plan to bring conservatives to their side and win the right to serve.

On a morning in 2002, Alex Nicholson quietly packed his bags and left his military base near Tucson for the last time. A friend he once trusted had outed him to commanding officers, and Nicholson had been given an honorable discharge under the government's ill-fated "don't ask, don't tell" policy. Nicholson--who was fluent in three languages when he joined the Army at age 19 and loved the training in intelligence gathering that he had been receiving--lost his dream of becoming an interrogator. "Going through that experience really takes a lot out of you and leaves you without a feeling of self-worth," he says. "For a long time I went back into private life, not sharing my story at all."

Nicholson, now 24, is anything but quiet these days. He has organized a project named Call to Duty that will send a group of LGBT veterans and their straight allies to about 20 universities during February and March to debate "don't ask, don't tell."

"Ultimately we'd like to see the policy repealed because it's absurd in the post-9/11 world," Nicholson says. "At this point it's time to reevaluate the policy, given the fact that this is one of the largest military mobilizations since Vietnam."

There's probably no better time to ramp up such a debate. Efforts to get rid of "don't ask, don't tell" once and for all appear to be suddenly stalled.

Gay rights groups were ecstatic last year when Democratic congressman Marty Meehan introduced a bill that would replace "don't ask, don't tell" with a nondiscrimination policy. Adding to the excitement was the fact that more than 100 lawmakers have cosponsored the bill, including key Republicans. Yet the bill has not made it to any vote.

Meanwhile, the U.S. Supreme Court is expected to deal a blow to gay rights this spring when it rules on a crucial case involving the Forum for Academic and Institutional Rights, an association of 36 law schools and law faculties that bar military recruiters from their campuses because of "don't ask, don't tell." The case, Rumsfeld v. FAIR, deals with the 1994 Solomon Amendment, legislation that states that the government may deny federal funds to schools that don't allow military recruiters on their campuses. FAIR argues that Solomon violates a school's First Amendment-guaranteed right to express opposition to a discriminatory policy such as "don't ask, don't tell." The U.S. third circuit court of appeals ruled in favor of FAIR, but after a dismal December 2005 hearing before the Supreme Court, several legal experts now suspect that the appeals court ruling may be overturned.

"The line of questioning from the bench was about as much a signal as you ever get that a case is going badly for a side," says Craig Christensen, a professor emeritus at Southwestern Law School in Los Angeles who has long been active in gay and lesbian legal issues. "It was a really courageous decision on the appellate court level, but it is hard to imagine that it is going to pick up more than a handful of votes at best."

Call to Duty was still finalizing its schedule as of press time, but it has secured a February 21 engagement at Harvard University's Kennedy School of Government as well as appearances at the University of Washington; the University of California, San Diego; and several military colleges around the country. "Our target audience is the conservative crowd," Nicholson says. "We want to get people who disagree with us to see us speak and see us challenge the emotions they have in their heads about gays and lesbians."

The tour's speakers either were discharged because of their sexuality or chose not to reenlist because of "don't ask, don't tell." Their experiences in the military are broad, including facing harassment, being kicked out, and finding support systems--even among commanders. Like Nicholson, most were aware of the policy when they enlisted but were determined to try to tolerate it. "I really wanted to serve my country," he says. "I looked at the policy as an extra sacrifice that gay men and women have to make, and I was willing to do it."

Adds former marine corporal Tim Smith, the tour's deputy director for logistics: "I hope we can open people's eyes. They hear the word 'gay' and think of New Orleans and the Southern Decadence pride parade. I want to show that gay people are just like anyone else. As someone who loves this country and is willing to serve it, I hope people can see that and know that there is not a problem with being gay and being in the military, or being gay in general."

The Memphis, Tenn., native joined the Marine Corps in 2000 and finished his service as a corporal and logistics chief for an F-18 fighter squadron based in Beaufort, S.C. "When I joined the military, yes, I knew I was gay, but I was more or less resisting it and fighting it," Smith says. He had been serving without incident until a retired Navy captain who was also the pastor of a local church that Smith and his ex-wife had once attended found out about his sexuality.

"He found out I was gay and wanted me to change," Smith recalls. "I told him that that wasn't going to happen, and he made a comment that he might be forced to take other actions if I didn't accept his help. I met with him two other times, trying to tell him to butt out. I thought he'd let it go." Instead, the pastor provided the military a hard print copy of a deleted profile Smith had once posted on Yahoo! Personals. Smith adds that six months earlier one of his commanders had come upon a personal letter he had written to a friend about his divorce and coming out. The commander kept the letter, and discharge proceedings were initiated soon after Smith had voluntary extended his enlistment for 13 months. At the time Smith's squadron was about three weeks away from being sent to Iraq.

"They approached me with all the evidence, and I was given the choice to bow out gracefully with an honorable discharge or to go the investigative route. I'd definitely put the uniform back on tomorrow if I could and walk right back into it," Smith says. "Unfortunately, right now that's not a possibility. It's a bittersweet thing. I'm more free if I want to date, hold hands in public, or go to the movies and give someone a kiss walking down the street. At the same time, like a typical marine, I ate, breathed, and slept the Marine Corps. I miss it a lot."

The tour's assistant director, Jarrod Chlapowski, joined the Army out of high school in 2000 and served through November 2005. A linguist specializing in Korean, he opted not to reenlist because of the policy. But he adds that while enlisted he was able to be part of a gay subculture that exists in the armed services. Chlapowski estimates that he came out to 30 people in the military.

"Everyone was accepting of it and never had an issue with it, even the straight people who were not part of the subculture. It got to the point where I'd find out that somebody didn't know," he says. But it became increasingly difficult for Chlapowski to not be completely out. "I probably would have reenlisted, but it got more and more frustrating. It's not like I experienced harassment so much or brought my personal life into my professional life, but there's always that threat that your career could be ended if someone decides to be vindictive."

Patrick English, the tour's deputy director for development, spent 5 1/2 years on active duty, much of it in Korean linguistics. He most recent tour was in Iraq and was involuntarily extended under the Army's stop-loss order. He received an honorable discharge (although not under "don't ask, don't tell") on December 31, 2005. English, 23, had been surprised to learn during his time in the military that "there was a whole network of gays and lesbians serving. They functioned as my support system, and we also had straight allies." His biggest problem was his mother, to whom he bad come out while he was serving. She didn't take it well, and he says she threatened to out him to his commander. "She spoke to him behind closed doors," he recalls. "The commander called me into his office and said, 'We support you, and we are not here to support your mother.' He didn't even question me on it." English has since reconciled with his mother and is ready to speak out publicly about his experiences.

In organizing the tour, Nicholson sought the advice of Rear Adm. Alan M. Steinman, who served in the U.S. Coast Guard for 25 years before retiring in 1997 and later becoming an activist. "I had been preaching the same thing," says Steinman, 61, who plans to travel with the tour. "It was heartwarming to see someone like Alex and others step forward and want to become activists on this issue. While I was in the military, I knew I was gay, but I didn't act on it at all. When I joined there was an absolute ban on homosexuals in the military. It's tragic.

"We hope to show the American public, to show Congress, the White House, and the Defense Department, here is a representative sample of gay soldiers, marines, airmen, coast guardsmen, and sailors who want to serve their country, love their country, love the military, and would go back in a heartbeat if they would let them. Give us the freedom to serve," Steinman says. "There are 26 militaries with open policies, including our allies Canada, Australia, Germany, Israel, and the United Kingdom. They did away with it, and it was a nonevent. And here we are in Iraq, shoulder to shoulder with the Brits."

Hernandez is a staff writer for the Los Angeles Daily News.

Booted from the base

Even though there is a war on and military recruiting numbers have fallen, gay and lesbian soldiers are still being discharged. The case of Pvt. Kyle Lawson--a 19-year-old who says he was gay-bashed by a fellow serviceman at a Halloween party in 2005, then discharged on January 5--is a case that has drawn national attention.

"They told me to have a good life and wished me the best," Lawson said in a telephone interview shortly after signing his discharge papers at Fort Huachuca, Ariz. 'Whey really pushed to get me out as soon as possible because of the publicity. What usually takes a few weeks to complete took about two days."

Lawson says that before joining the Army he had confided in his military recruiter about his sexuality. "He said there was nothing to worry about as long as I kept it to myself and kept my private life private. But it's not practical when you work closely with someone who you expect to watch your back."

His trouble began less than three months after starting his posting at the Arizona base when a soldier whom Lawson knew and considered a friend confronted him during a heated, two-sided argument. "He punched me on the side of the face and broke my nose. He called me a fucking queer," Lawson claims. "I was unconscious for a few moments, bleeding everywhere." Friends, including other servicemen, took him to the hospital, and when Lawson was filling out reports with police, he says, his sexuality became more or less publicly known when he explained why he was attacked. Lawson, traumatized by the incident, also came out to his mother for the first time when he called home to tell her what had happened.

During the following months word of the incident spread around the base, and Lawson was moved to three different barracks for his own safety. He says he was threatened with a knife by another serviceman, which resulted in him sleeping in his drill sergeant's office for a week.

Lawson's case began to get media attention, and the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network called on Army officials to hold the attacker accountable for the assault. He had originally been charged with aggravated assault by police, but the case was then turned over to the military. SLDN also called on the Pentagon to implement the Anti-Harassment Action Plan originally adopted more than five years ago but never implemented.

As he prepared to board a bus back to his home state of Missouri, Lawson was thinking ahead to applying for college and living his life now as an openly gay civilian: "I'm a little sad, but part of me was relieved because I'm able to finally be honest with who I am."