The United States Navy has long understood that ship names are not just labels. Many factors go into choosing a name because it symbolizes history, values, and who is being honored. That is why recent reports that Navy leadership is discussing renaming an aircraft carrier currently under construction, originally intended to be the USS Doris Miller, after President Donald Trump are concerning. A potential alternative has reportedly been proposed: naming a smaller warship after Doris Miller. That is not an acceptable alternative, given that the name was already chosen for Miller, and rightfully so.
The issue has gone silent in the past two weeks, and one can assume that no decision has been made. However, silence worries me, and we should not forget this issue.
The Heroism of Doris Miller
For those who are not aware: Doris Miller, who was also known as “Dorie” Miller, was a Black sailor who served as a mess attendant on the USS West Virginia when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. At a time when Black sailors were largely confined to support roles and systematically denied combat training and leadership opportunities, when the attack occurred in 1941, Miller went to work, showing everyone what a Black sailor could do if not confined to specific noncombat roles.
Doris immediately manned an anti-aircraft gun he was actually never trained to operate; he engaged in attacking Japanese aircraft, credited with shooting down at least one plane; moved his wounded Captain to safety under fire; and aided other wounded sailors, risking his own life repeatedly. After being ordered to abandon ship, Miller kept helping others and was among the last to leave the sinking vessel.
For these actions, Miller became the first Black American to receive the Navy Cross, the Navy’s second-highest decoration. It was presented to him by Admiral Chester Nimitz. This recognition came in the early 1940s—a time as we know of legally sanctioned segregation and pervasive racism. Afterward, Miller remained in the Navy, promoted to mess attendant, first class. A Japanese torpedo struck the ship he was on during the Battle of Makin Island on November 24, 1943, and the ship sank. Miller lost his life along with hundreds of others. Miller was posthumously awarded the Purple Heart for his service and sacrifice.
In many ways, naming an aircraft carrier after Doris Miller was not only recognition of Miller’s contributions, but the Navy’s long-overdue acknowledgment of the heroism of Black sailors who served valiantly under discriminatory conditions. The challenging situation of Black sailors was largely ignored as they struggled for integration and equality within the armed forces. The principle should be that courage, duty, and sacrifice—not race, rank, or rating—define a sailor’s worth. Reversing this decision now would not be just a bureaucratic change. It would be yet another act of erasure of Black contributions to America. To many sailors, veterans, and families, the message is clear:
Heroism, sacrifice, and service can be displaced for political convenience.
As a retired Navy Reserve officer, I took pride in serving in a force that, while not perfect, aspired to care for its people and honor those who served before us. Today, when I see sailors kept at sea indefinitely, asked to endure unacceptable conditions, then dismissed or disbelieved when they speak up, it becomes harder and harder to understand and make sense of what is happening today.
The USS Doris Miller should sail under the name of the man who earned it, through courage, sacrifice, and love of country.