As we reported previously, Sunday afternoon's round of NFL games included players from nearly every team joining the "take a knee" protest during the National Anthem, while many others locked arms in solidarity with players who decided to take a knee, or - in the case of the Pittsburg Steelers - remained in the locker room, and thus weren't visible to the public. Notably, Steeler and ex-Army Ranger Alejandro Villanueva seemed to have defied the team decision to opt out of the anthem by waiting in the locker room (with the exception of head coach Mike Tomlin, who stood on the field). Villaneuva, who served three tours in Afghanistan, stood visibly outside the tunnel with his hand over his heart during the The Star-Spangled Banner.
In Philadelphia, Eagles and Giants players and coaches locked arms as a massive American flag was raised over the field and military jets performed a flyover. A few players raised fists or knelt, according to the New York Times. Several players on the Bills and the Broncos also took a knee, as well as players from both teams in the Patriots vs. Texans game. At least eight Detroit Lions knelt during the anthem which ended with singer Rico LaVelle kneeling with his fist in the air upon closing the national anthem. Across the league, well over 100 players took part in the anthem protest, and the controversy is now impacting other sports as well, including the NBA and MLB.
With Trump's Sunday morning tweets fueling the controversy further, and with teams having to decide how to approach the issue, it would be helpful if Americans were reminded of the first black man in history to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor. Whereas players across the NFL are now either defiantly taking a knee or opting out of respectfully commemorating the flag by hiding in the locker room, ironically, the first African-American Medal of Honor recipient nearly made the ultimate sacrifice out of his own personal respect for the flag and all that it represents.
Sergeant William H. Carney received the nation's highest honor during the Civil War for rescuing the American flag and carrying it reverently in the midst of impossible odds while being shot multiple times by the enemy. His act of 'defiance' while an entire Confederate battalion mowed down his fellow Union soldiers consisted in not letting the flag touch the ground - this, even after being wounded in the head.
"As the color-bearer became disabled I threw away my gun and seized the colors [the flag]," his account of the Battle of Fort Wagner states. "When we finally reached [my regiment] the men cheered me and the flag. My reply was, ‘Boys, the old flag never touched the ground.'"
Taking bullets for the flag, rather than a knee - Sergeant William H. Carney, the first black man to win the Congressional Medal of Honor, for refusing to allow the flag to touch the ground. Source: US Army archival photo
This act, acknowledged to be one of the most heroic deeds of the Civil War, is recorded in State documents and in the detailed account written by Sergeant Carney. The significance is summarized as follows:
In 1863 William H. Carney entered the army and was assigned to Company C of the 54th Massachusetts Regiment, the first regiment composed of black men in the state. They were most renowned for their participation in the battle at Battery Wagner where, through their bravery and sacrifice, they forever silenced the predication that the black men would not fight. It was at this siege on July 18, 1863 that Color-Sergeant William H. Carney performed a brave deed which earned him the Congressional Medal of Honor for most distinguished gallantry in action.
Here, in part, is his account of the siege from The History of New Bedford and Its Vicinity, 1620-1892:
". . .We were all ready for the charge, and the regiment started to its feet, the charge being fairly commenced. We had got but a short distance when we were opened upon with musketry, shell, grape shot and canister, which mowed down our men right and left. As the color-bearer became disabled I threw away my gun and seized the colors, making my way to the head of the column. . . In less than 20 minutes I found myself alone, struggling upon the ramparts, while the dead and wounded were all around me, lying one upon another. Here I said, ‘I cannot go into the battery alone,' and so I halted and knelt down, holding the flag in my hand. While there, the muskets, balls and grape-shots were flying all around me, and as they struck, the sand would fly in my face."
The Storming of Fort Wagner by the 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry, Morris Island, Charleston, S.C., July 18, 1863.
"I knew my position was a critical one, and I began to watch to see if I would be left alone. Discovering that the forces had renewed their attack farther to the right, and the enemy's attention being drawn thither, I turned and discovered a battalion of men coming towards me on the ramparts of Wagner. They proceeded until they were in front of me, and I raised my flag and started to join them, when from the light of the cannon discharged on the battery, I saw that they were my enemies. I wound the colors round the staff and made my way down the parapet in to the ditch, which was without water when I crossed it before, but now was filled with water that came up to my waist.
Out of the number that came up with me there was now no man moving erect, save myself, although they were not all dead but wounded. In rising to see if I could determine my course to the rear, the bullet I now carry in my body came whizzing like a mosquito, and I was shot. Not being prostrated by the shot, I continued my course, yet had not gone far before I was struck by a second shot.
Soon after I saw a man coming towards me, and then within halting distance I asked him who he was. He replied, ‘I belong to the One Hundredth New York,' and then inquired if I were wounded. Upon replying in the affirmative, he came to my assistance and helped me to the rear. ‘Now then,' said he, ‘let me take the colors and carry them for you.' My reply was that I would not give them to anyone else unless he belonged to the Fifty-Fourth Regiment. So we passed on , but we did not go far before I was wounded in the head.
We came at length within hailing distance of the rear guard, who caused us to halt, and upon asking who we were, and finding I was wounded, took us to the rear and through the guard. An officer came, and taking my name and regiment, put us in charge of the hospital corps, telling them to find my regiment. When we finally reached the latter the men cheered me and the flag. My reply was, ‘Boys, the old flag never touched the ground.'
It is then said that he fell to the ground in a dead faint, weak from the wounds that he had received."
In May, 1900, Carney became the first African-American to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor. Carney's brave deed is depicted on the Saint-Gaudens Monument in Boston Common. The rescued flag is enshrined in Memorial Hall, Boston. Carney survived his severe wounds and lived until 1908.
As the trend of multi-millionaire celebrity athletes 'defiantly' opting out of a minimal symbolic act of respect for the flag continues, remember the example of Sgt. Carney, who even after being shot multiple times defiantly and triumphantly raised the American flag high.