OCEAN COUNTY – With more than 35,000 former service members, Ocean County has a larger veteran population than any other New Jersey county. Men and women who have served in conflicts across generations face unique challenges in civilian life. Phil Zimmerman, Director/Service Officer of the Ocean County Veterans Service Bureau, leads the local fight for their rights.
Zimmerman’s own personal journey makes him an advocate who truly understands the struggles faced by those who have worn the uniform. His own case file is several inches thick, representing years of bureaucratic battles and personal hardship. It’s also a symbol of Zimmerman’s commitment to fighting for veterans who face their own challenges, whether they are dealing with the complexities of healthcare, disability claims, or the emotional scars of service.
“I know what it feels like to be lost, to not know where to turn,” Zimmerman said. “That’s why I’m here – to make sure no veteran feels like they’re alone in this.”
One Soldier’s Journey
Zimmerman’s path to championing veteran causes began with his own service in the U.S. Navy. From 1980 to 1986, he served as a cryptologic technician, specializing in Arabic and Farsi languages. Zimmerman’s linguistic talents and dedication earned him the distinction as the Navy’s top Farsi linguist. Zimmerman shared some of his performance reviews that consistently praised his work ethic. However, despite his stellar record, Zimmerman’s promising career was cut short by a grave injustice.
“I did not leave of my own volition,” said Zimmerman. “Unfortunately, prior to ‘Don’t ask, Don’t tell,’ there were prohibitions against gay, lesbian, bisexual service members, and I was discharged for being gay.”
“I just wasn’t worthy of being in the United States Navy, according to the Uniform Code of Military Justice at that time and the policies of the Department of Defense and the Navy,” he continued.
Things came to a head on August 26, 1986, while Zimmerman was stationed at the National Security Agency as part of an elite group of Navy linguists specializing in Arabic, Farsi, and Hebrew. It began as a day of celebration – Zimmerman had just received approval for a groundbreaking course he had written on Iran. But that joy quickly turned to confusion and disbelief when Zimmerman’s superior officer entered his office and used a derogatory slur to order his removal.
“Next thing I know, I was being escorted very quietly down to the security office, where I had to turn in my badge,” shared Zimmerman. “I was walked up to the barracks and then told to get into my working uniform and start cleaning toilets.”
Eventually, he was ordered to report to Annapolis, where a Naval Investigative Service agent interrogated him. During a routine security clearance review, a fellow serviceman was questioned, and he decided it was his duty to “out” Zimmerman. As a result, Zimmerman’s room and phone calls were monitored; he became classified as a military suspect with top-secret clearance.
He denied accusations that he fraudulently enlisted at 18 by not disclosing he was gay. He remembered himself as a young, confused kid who hadn’t figured out his sexual preference yet. By the time he reenlisted, he knew but was never asked again. During the interrogation, Zimmerman admitted he was gay but refused to apologize to the government.
“I will no more apologize for being gay than a black man would apologize for being black, a Jew for being Jewish or a Catholic for being Catholic,” Zimmerman recalled telling the investigator. “The only dishonor today is what my government’s doing to me.”
Rumors spread that he was not only gay but also HIV positive, which wasn’t true. Each day, he faced increasing threats and humiliation. Despite his contributions to national security, his skill, and his dedication, Zimmerman ultimately received an honorable discharge under painful circumstances. It wasn’t honorable in the true sense; it was forced, leaving him without his identity, his future, and his pride in serving his country.
Zimmerman’s last day as an active service member was December 11, 1986. He didn’t receive a final paycheck or even transportation to his hometown in Philadelphia. Left with just a bulk of foreign currency that he traded in for $200, he faced homelessness, depression, and isolation. The lack of support from the very government he had served so faithfully felt like a betrayal on every level.
At one point, Zimmerman inched closer to the edge of a train platform, contemplating jumping in front of an oncoming train. He thought that ending his life would put an end to his pain and humiliation. An older man noticed his distress and reached out, telling him that whatever was troubling him wasn’t worth such a drastic decision.
“I didn’t go back to a train station for two years because I was afraid that I would have that same feeling again,” he said. “I realized that for seven years, I had lived so deep in a closet in such a dark place, where I could never truly be who I was. I could never express who I loved and felt like no one was there for me.”
He decided that if the Navy didn’t think he was good enough, then the Navy wasn’t good enough for him. For a long time, he shut them out and didn’t identify himself as a veteran. After his discharge, he spent 16 years in the education field as an instructor, department head, and director of education.
Thirty years ago, Zimmerman met the love of his life. He and Stephen Wilson married when same-sex marriages became legal. In 2011, Wilson encouraged Zimmerman to reclaim his veteran identity.
“My health was seriously faltering, and my lungs were in bad shape,” Zimmerman shared. “In our early years, Stephen didn’t even know I was a veteran. He insisted that I needed to see if the VA could help me. He even made the first phone call.”
The Veterans Administration eventually confirmed that Zimmerman’s respiratory issues were tied to his military service. His lung disease was directly linked to asbestos exposure during his time aboard nine ships in the Persian Gulf, North Arabian Sea, Indian Ocean, and the Mediterranean Sea.
When he decided to become active in his local VFW post, Zimmerman frequently participated in veteran events and naturally gravitated towards helping others. He began volunteering as a service officer for the organization, advocating for fellow veterans. His dedication caught the eye of the previous director in his current office, who invited Zimmerman to join the team as an Ocean County Veteran Service Officer in 2014.
Helping Other Vets
As a service officer, Zimmerman works to ensure every veteran feels appreciated for their service until the end of their lives. He has likely attended more veterans’ funerals in Ocean County than anyone else. To him, it’s important that each veteran is honored for their time serving the United States.
Zimmerman is a strong advocate for those who seek assistance from his office. He’s also intervened on behalf of veterans he’s met by chance. Among them was an elderly man panhandling outside a Lacey convenience store with a sign stating he was a veteran. After learning the vet had received a dishonorable discharge for being gay, Zimmerman took him into his office and worked to correct the injustice, making a significant difference in the man’s life.
“I take it all very seriously as a fellow who absolutely loved the idea of being in the Navy,” he said. “I loved everything the Navy stood for – despite being trashed by the very thing I loved and being forgotten.”
“Over the years, I began reclaiming my identity as a sailor,” he continued. “Reclaiming that honor that I let them allow me to throw away wrongfully.”
Zimmerman’s firsthand experience plays a key role in his ability to effectively advocate for Ocean County veterans. Many aren’t even aware of the benefits available to them and their families.
Veterans who have received Zimmerman’s assistance often speak highly of his dedication to their cases. Some have even given hand-crafted gifts to show their appreciation.
Three years ago, he was promoted to director after his predecessor retired. Since then, he has modernized the office, including digitizing all records. He has also improved operations, allowing the six service officers to be more engaged with the veterans they serve.
Zimmerman acknowledged that there’s a common perception that government workers can be crass or indifferent. He’s made it a priority to ensure that’s not the case in his office and that every veteran who seeks help feels respected and valued.
“I don’t want anybody who works here in this office to be here because it’s just a job,” Zimmerman shared. “I want people who have a vested interest in helping people, and I think we’ve achieved that.”
