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Native war heroes were swept up in President Donald Trump’s recent DEI directive at the Pentagon, erasing their legacies from its annals of military history. While some scrubbed photos and stories have since been restored, this series highlights the administration’s impacts on the families and descendants of Arizona icons Ira Hayes, Lori Piestewa and the Navajo Code Talkers.

Ira Hayes’ relatives are ‘still here, sharing his dog tag’ despite DOD deleting details about him

Wayne Allison, an Ira Hayes family rep., shows his relative's dog tag sitting inside a black velvet ring box.
Gabriel Pietrorazio/KJZZ
Wayne Allison, an Ira Hayes family representative, shows his relative's dog tag sitting inside a black velvet ring box.
Coverage of tribal natural resources is supported in part by Catena Foundation

Ira Hayes is arguably Arizona’s most iconic World War II hero.

He’s one of six Marines — captured in a Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph — who flew the American flag atop Mount Suribachi on the Pacific island of Iwo Jima on Feb. 23, 1945.

But even his decorated legacy was caught up in the recent scrubbing of military history by the U.S. Department of Defense, which the agency deemed as DEI — an abbreviation for diversity, equity and inclusion.

In the fallout, some of the Hayes descendants are stepping up. These relatives were reminded why they keep on sharing his story — even eight decades later — from where he grew up on the Gila River Indian Community.

A close-up look at the dog tag of Marine Corps Corporal Ira Hamiliton Hayes.
Gabriel Pietrorazio/KJZZ
A close-up look at the dog tag of Marine Corps Corporal Ira Hamiliton Hayes.

The rounded-edged dog tag — made of monel, a nickel-copper alloy — was once worn around the neck of the famed Marine Corps Cpl. Ira Hamilton Hayes. Now, his grand-nephew Wayne Allison lets me hold this metallic relic of World War II history in my bare hands after taking it out of a black velvet ring box.

“It’s like a whole another job,” said Allison, who has been a Hayes family representative since 2003. “When you want to come out and share what you got, you know memorabilia, but even just to talk for family, it was so sensitive.”

Allison shows their most coveted family treasure at the communal cemetery plot in Casa Blanca, where all of Hayes’ relatives are buried while the Stars and Stripes — strung to three flagpoles — flutter in the wind.

The Hayes family burial plot located in a Casa Blanca cemetery at the Gila River Indian Community.
Gabriel Pietrorazio/KJZZ
The Hayes family burial plot located in a Casa Blanca cemetery at the Gila River Indian Community.

“We never really talked about Ira,” said Doug Juan, a nephew of Hayes. “As a young man, I was taught: ‘Don’t brag, just know who we are and where we come from.’”

Growing up, he used to go to the Hayes household until Jan. 24, 1955.

“I kind of remember, way back, but I was too busy playing around. My grandparents would talk with Ira’s folks, visit and then go back home,” said Juan, who was only 5 years old then. “We were going to the store one day, and I happened to look over to the old house, and there was a bunch of cars there.”

Doug Juan remembers Ira Hayes
The Vietnam Army veteran is a member of American Legion Post 84, named after his renowned relative.
Doug Juan holds the dog tag of his relative, Ira Hayes.

“So I asked my grandma, ‘What happened?’ and I happened to point,” he continued. “And she put my hand down and said, ‘You don’t need to point, but we’re going to leave them alone for a while.’ Later on in life, I found out that was the day they found Ira.”

Hayes had been found facedown in an irrigation ditch, frozen to death at age 32.

A ballad sung and popularized by Johnny Cash even stereotypes his untimely passing — dubbing him “Drunken Ira Hayes” — a reputation that still haunts the Marine Corps hero from beyond the grave.

“We don’t call him that. His name is Ira Hamilton Hayes. To them, it was normal. It was OK, like, cool saying it. It’s a perception,” said Allison, stressing it shouldn’t overshadow his heroism. “Maybe they don’t see him as a war hero because of the way he died.”

In a statement, Gov. Stephen Roe Lewis of the Gila River Indian Community called the editing of Hayes’ legacy by the Pentagon “unacceptable and extremely unfortunate,” adding that “recognizing patriotism and courage of Native American soldiers has nothing to do with any type of DEI initiative.”

A mural depicting the Iwo Jima flag-raising at the Mathew B. Juan-Ira H. Hayes Veterans Memorial Park in Sacaton.
Gabriel Pietrorazio/KJZZ
A mural depicting the Iwo Jima flag-raising at the Mathew B. Juan-Ira H. Hayes Veterans Memorial Park in Sacaton.

“It’s simply an offering of respect for extraordinary service and bravery in the line of duty,” Lewis elaborated. “Every single reference that has been scrubbed should be returned to these websites as soon as possible.”

While this DEI directive didn’t fully erase Hayes, it greatly deemphasized his Indigenous identity, prompting Arizona Democrats to send letters to the Department of Defense last month.

U.S. Sens. Ruben Gallego and Mark Kelly urged the Pentagon to “immediately reinstate all of the information and references” of Hayes and U.S. Army Spc. Lori Piestewa — a Hopi from Tuba City — who became the first Native American woman killed in action on foreign soil during the Iraq War in 2003.

House Reps. Greg Stanton and Yassamin Ansari also noted that although “other mistakenly removed references to Native American veterans and service members,” like the Navajo Code Talkers, have been restored, “information on these two pivotal figures is still missing.”

A veteran from Marine Corps League Tucson Detachment 007 holds an Ira Hayes portrait during a parade on Feb. 24, 2024.
Gabriel Pietrorazio/KJZZ
A veteran from Marine Corps League Tucson Detachment 007 holds an Ira Hayes portrait during a parade on Feb. 24, 2024.

“DOD appears to be taking a slash and burn approach, removing web pages and only restoring them when the public holds the Department accountable,” added Kelly and Gallego. “This approach is wasteful and creates unnecessary distractions from the Department’s important missions.”

An unnamed duty officer with the Defense Press Operations office at the Pentagon would not comment on the pair of letters, telling KJZZ: “As will all congressional letters, we respond directly to the authors.” Since then, the offices of Stanton, Ansari, Gallego and Kelly still haven’t gotten any letters yet.

“This needs to come back up, not just for us, but for Lori. I remember meeting her mom, and the kids. Now they’re all grown up,” added Allison, who candidly asked about the rest of Arizona’s congressional delegation. “Where’s their support?”

“My father had this talk before,” said Erin Allison, his 22-year-old daughter who is next in line to carry on their family tradition. “He wants me to start this young, that way nothing is ever forgotten.”

When the fifth-generation descendant got the DEI news, it did not sadden or anger her.

“Nor was my image of Ira. There is so much blood and history. We know his story. It cannot be taken away,” she continued. “We are still here, sharing his dog tag. I think that’s the blessing to be Indigenous, one, and two, being related to him.”

Not too far from the Hayes family burial site is the Vah-Ki Presbyterian Church, where Hayes’ parents went to worship. Behind that building is a fenced-off brick memorial with a plaque and flagpole that celebrates their son’s life.

A flagpole memorial dedicated to Ira Hayes behind the Va-Ki Presbyterian Church in Casa Blanca.
Gabriel Pietrorazio/KJZZ
A flagpole memorial dedicated to Ira Hayes behind the Va-Ki Presbyterian Church in Casa Blanca.

It’s among a handful of spots that still honor Hayes.

Beyond a namesake peak nestled in the Estrella Mountains and veterans memorial park that’s home to a statue of Hayes’ likeness in his birthplace of Sacaton — about 40 miles south of Phoenix — no other markers exist.

“We have the Vietnam wall, Bushmasters and USS Arizona, stuff like that,” said Juan, referencing some of the many tributes at Wesley Bolin Memorial Plaza outside the state Capitol. “But we don’t have anything. If it wasn’t for the flag-raising, who knows, we might be speaking Japanese.”

Although some insist Ira Hayes is in fact a native son of Arizona, his descendants, including Wayne Allison, ponder how that’s possible if the state hasn’t fully embraced his complicated life as a veteran who died young after struggling with PTSD and alcoholism.

A wreath is laid by a Marine inside the Matthew B. Juan-Ira H. Hayes Veterans Memorial Park in Sacaton.
Gabriel Pietrorazio/KJZZ
A wreath is laid by a Marine inside the Matthew B. Juan-Ira H. Hayes Veterans Memorial Park on Feb. 24, 2024.

Meanwhile, the Navajo Code Talkers were given a state holiday in 2021 — under former Arizona Republican Gov. Doug Ducey — almost four decades after President Ronald Reagan declared a national day of remembrance in 1982.

“Like us here and our own tribe, we need to make his home site a historical monument with a fence around it and a little gate,” admitted Wayne Allison. “But I’ve always had that vision.”

Now, more than ever, might be the time, with Wayne Allison likening President Donald Trump’s second term to the traumatic 150-year boarding school era.

Many of these government-run institutions were militarized, seen as a way to anglicize and assimilate Indigenous youth — including Ira Hayes, who attended Arizona’s longest-running boarding school in Phoenix.

Memorial Hall, one of three original Phoenix Indian School buildings left, predates Arizona statehood.
Gabriel Pietrorazio/KJZZ
Memorial Hall, one of three original Phoenix Indian School buildings left, predates Arizona statehood.

“That school took care of them the way they felt they needed to take care of them, and that’s what’s kinda happening in this sense,” Allison explained. “He’s taking care of whatever he needs to take care of. It doesn’t matter.”

Like Hayes, Juan also went to the Phoenix Indian School. He, too, served overseas. The Vietnam Army veteran is a member of American Legion Post 84, named after his renowned relative.

“What we did in the service was protect this country. Protect Indian land, the people that live here, the elders, the children,” he shared. “But when they took down the information, it just bothered me, and that’s not right.”

Doug Juan holds the dog tag of his relative, Ira Hayes.
Gabriel Pietrorazio/KJZZ
Doug Juan holds the dog tag of his relative, Ira Hayes.

An Arizona American Legion district commander attended a March meeting at the Ira H. Hayes Post 84 in Sacaton. While there, Juan asked him whether Trump’s DEI directive would affect them.

“He said no, but the way he talked sounded like he was with Trump’s side,” Juan remembered. “[Trump] says he wants to be a dictator and I can kind of see that. We have been here a lot longer than he has.”

The nonpartisan Arizona American Legion responded to KJZZ over the allegation that one of its officials was dismissive or downplayed the concerns raised by Juan about the president’s recent executive order, possibly even scrubbing the name of Ira Hayes from its iconic post.

“We do the best that we can with the volunteers that we have,” said Matthew Kritzer, adjutant of the Arizona American Legion. “So not everybody may be able to answer the questions with the best information.”

While the American Legion was chartered by Congress in 1919, Kritzer stated that posts named after diverse service members and veterans, like Hayes, should not change, noting the decision is “completely 100% up to the members” — not the federal government.

“So as we are all struggling with understanding the changes that are happening right now,” added Kritzer, “our focus is to say, ‘OK, what can we do as good, upstanding American citizens, to work within the confines that we’re currently under?’”

For now, Wayne Allison reiterates they cannot lose sight of Hayes’ legacy.

“He is a hero to us. We should be proud as Pimas, because one of our own was in a picture that makes you look like it’s free,” said Allison, choked up with teary eyes. “We should be thinking that way, ‘Yeah, we’re in America and we’re free.’ And we’re not. This is not lost, but it’s getting away from us.”

Joe Rosenthal's Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph of the flag-raising on Iwo Jima, Feb. 23, 1945.
National Archives and Records Administration
Joe Rosenthal's Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph of the flag-raising on Iwo Jima, Feb. 23, 1945.
More Tribal Natural Resources News

Gabriel Pietrorazio is a correspondent who reports on tribal natural resources for KJZZ.