February 2026 marks a full century since the first national Black history commemoration began in 1926 as “Negro History Week,” a project launched by Dr. Carter Godwin Woodson and the organization that became today’s Association for the Study of African American Life and History. The organization’s 2026 theme, “A Century of Black History Commemorations,” frames the month as an anniversary of when the country chose to remember and teach Black history in public life, not just a celebration calendar entry.
A Centennial Worth Marking
For a military audience, the centennial lands with a particular weight. Black Americans have served in every U.S. conflict while also confronting exclusion, segregation, and uneven recognition at home. The federal Black History Month site summarizes that bluntly, noting Black servicemembers often fought on two fronts, against the enemy abroad and against discrimination within the system.
A Marine’s Story That Explains the Point Without a Lecture
A single life can communicate what a long policy discussion cannot. Private First Class James Anderson Jr. did not live long enough to build a career, yet his name sits at the center of a story about service, sacrifice, and the slow pace of recognition.
On February 28, 1967, northwest of Cam Lo in Vietnam, Anderson’s platoon took fire. A grenade landed among the Marines. Anderson pulled it to his chest and curled his body around it, taking the blast and saving others. His Medal of Honor citation is preserved in multiple public records. He became the first Black Marine to receive the Medal of Honor; a limited number of Black Marines have ever received it.
The Montford Point Marines
Long before Vietnam, Black Marines were forced to prove themselves inside a system that questioned whether they belonged at all. From 1942 to 1949, nearly 20,000 Black Marines trained at Montford Point Camp in North Carolina, segregated from white Marines and excluded from many occupational specialties.
The Montford Point Marines served in World War II in logistics, ammunition handling, and security roles that proved essential to combat operations, particularly in the Pacific. Their performance helped dismantle arguments that Black Marines lacked discipline or capability, yet formal integration came slowly. The Marine Corps did not fully integrate recruit training until 1949, years after President Truman ordered desegregation of the armed forces.
Montford Point illustrates a recurring pattern in military history. Black servicemembers often met or exceeded standards while institutional recognition lagged behind reality. Their contributions became undeniable only after sustained performance made exclusion impossible to justify.
Today, the Marine Corps commemorates the Montford Point Marines through the Montford Point Challenge, a physically demanding endurance event most prominently hosted at Marine Corps Base Quantico and replicated at installations across the Corps to honor their legacy and educate Marines about segregation-era service.
The Tuskegee Airmen and Recognition After the Fact
The Army Air Forces followed a similar path. The Tuskegee Airmen, trained at Tuskegee Army Air Field in Alabama, flew combat missions in World War II at a time when many senior leaders doubted Black pilots could perform under pressure. They escorted bombers over Europe, compiled a strong combat record, and disproved those assumptions through operational success.
Despite that record, the Tuskegee Airmen returned home to a segregated military and limited career opportunities. Widespread recognition came decades later. In 2007, surviving members received the Congressional Gold Medal, an acknowledgment that arrived long after their service had already shaped airpower history.
Their story reinforces why commemoration matters. Recognition is not automatic, even when the record is clear. It often arrives only after political and cultural conditions catch up to historical fact.
Commemoration Is Part of Military Culture, Even When It Is Complicated
The armed forces already run on commemoration. The services teach institutional memory through unit lineages, battle honors, memorial roll calls, birthday messages, and casualty notifications that do not fade into abstraction. The question is not whether the military commemorates. The question is who gets remembered and how. For military history, those shifts show up in which narratives were taught to recruits, which names appeared in official exhibits, and which accomplishments stayed confined to community memory.
Why This Matters Beyond February
Black History Month in 2026 is not only about honoring historical figures. It is also about how the military educates its own people. The centennial invites a practical question for the services: whether commemoration functions as a box-checking exercise or as a serious attempt to preserve accurate institutional memory.
A centennial of commemoration also makes room for a wider lens. The story of Black military service is not only about barrier-breaking pioneers. It also includes families who carried the burden of service, communities that fought for recognition, and veterans whose records were not always treated with equal seriousness.
Black History Month turns 100 this year. The cleanest way to mark it in a military context is to treat commemoration as a discipline, the same way the military treats readiness. Names like James Anderson’s endure because the facts hold up, the record survives, and the institution chooses to remember them.
