CREDENTIALS
WAR DEPARTMENT
Washington
February 11th, 1919.
To: Officers Commanding Colored Units from
Over Seas Service
From: The Secretary of War.
Subject: Interview.
This will introduce to you Charles H. Williams, who desires to interview both colored officers and men who have seen over seas service. I desire that every practical facility be afforded Mr. Williams in carrying out the work.
Sincerely,
[SIGNED] NEWTON D. BAKER,
Newton D. Baker,
Secretary of War.
WAR DEPARTMENT
The Adjutant General’s Office
Washington
March 7, 1918.
From: The Adjutant General of the Army.
To: The Commanding Generals of all Army Camps and Cantonments.
Subject: Social and Religious Conditions in Communities Adjacent to Camps and Cantonments.
This will introduce to you Mr. C. H. Williams, representing the Federal Council of Churches and the Phelps-Stokes Fund.
Mr. Williams has been appointed to observe social and religious conditions in communities adjacent to camps and cantonments where colored troops are stationed.
The Secretary of War desires that every practicable facility be afforded to Mr. Williams in carrying on his work.
[SIGNED] H. P. McCAIN.
GENERAL HEADQUARTERS
American Expeditionary Forces
Provost Marshal General’s Office
A. P. O. 706
May 17, 1919.
From: Provost Marshal General, A. E. F.
To: Whom it May Concern.
Subject: Special Travel Permit.
1. Charles H. Williams, Associate Member, Army Educational Commission, Y. M. C. A., holder of Red Worker’s Permit No. 32133, is authorized to travel in:
(a) Any part of France except Alsace-Lorraine.
(b) Any part of the 3rd Army Area.
2. This permit, which is valid until July 17, 1919, will be returned, upon expiration, to the office of the Provost Marshal General, A. P. O. 706.
H. H. BANDHOLTZ,
Provost Marshal General.
[SIGNED] JOHN W. NOBLE,
for
By: JAMES T. LOREE,
Executive Officer.
[OFFICIAL SEAL]
CHAPTER I
THE CALL TO THE COLORS
Little did the American Negro think, as he struggled with his own problems in the early days of the World War, that he would be called upon to aid his fellowmen three thousand miles away. He looked with interest upon the conflict in Europe, his adventurous spirit was quickened by the accounts of heroism and sacrifice, and he could but marvel at German efficiency as he watched the great war machine crush its way through Belgium. As the German armies marched across the fields of France, however, leaving suffering and sorrow in their wake, the Negro found his sympathy going out to the French people; and when it became evident that America also would be drawn into the fighting, like the other citizens of the country he girded himself for the contest.
When war was declared on April 6, 1917, the American army numbered 75,000 officers and men, only a nucleus for the stupendous task now on hand. As the country marshalled its forces the question arose in some sections as to the use of a tenth part of its man-power. Some alarmists feared that if the Negro were trained in the science of modern warfare, not only would there be industrial and agricultural stagnation, but, even more important, peaceful relations after the war would be difficult if not indeed impossible. It was true that black men had gone to the aid of France and England, not as black men but as Frenchmen and Englishmen, and their names had been written in gold at the Marne and at Verdun, in Mesopotamia and in Africa. They too had wielded the cold steel, faced gas and liquid fire, and passed into the jaws of death. America, however, it was felt by some, had her own special problems and difficulties, and it was debatable if she could adopt a similar policy. On the other hand, throughout the country orators and the press alike proclaimed the patriotism of the Negro and his willingness to shed his blood for the Stars and Stripes. The heroism and loyalty of the race were recounted from the Revolution to Carrizal; whatever else might be said, the Negro’s hand had never been raised against the flag, nor had treason been found in his breast; and when the call for American manhood came, it was for all men from twenty-one to thirty-one years of age, regardless of color.
During this period there were those among the Negroes themselves who thought that at last the time had come to demand once for all the full rights of American citizens. A larger group, however, maintained that when the country was in danger the first duty of every citizen was to remove the danger and then to settle domestic problems. A program was adopted which resulted in the holding of great mass meetings throughout the country. The young men of the race were urged to enlist in the army or navy, and this they did with enthusiasm. The rush to the colors was unprecedented. The American Negro Loyal Legion proposed to raise 10,000 men in answer to the President’s call for 75,000 men. In sections where national guard units existed for colored men, these were the first to raise their units to war strength, as was demonstrated by the old 15th New York. Often in the registration booths new records of enlistments were made, so much so that at one time the War Department issued orders to “take no more colored men.” Boys in their teens and men beyond the draft age answered the call. Students left school or college to take up the knapsack and the gun. In the Southern states there was special eagerness to enlist, and in Florida there were petitions to the Governor for the privilege of raising “regiments of colored militia officered by men of the race.”
In some quarters it was said that Negroes would not register and that arrests would have to be made. Especially in country districts not reached by publicity campaigns there was not a thorough understanding of the requirements. This fact resulted in the arrest of a few men as slackers, but investigation showed that what seemed to be negligence was due to ignorance rather than to any definite intention to dodge the draft. Some who were beyond the age limits registered because they did not know their exact age, and some other older men believed that they would be sent to jail if they failed to appear.
When soon after registration day reports were sent out from Washington that Negroes would be sent to the various camps, a vigorous protest was made in some Southern states against placing them in the local camps, the strongest objection coming from South Carolina. Elsewhere, however, the opposition did not appear so violent; thus the Atlanta Constitution took the position that Negro soldiers should be trained in Camp Gordon along with other soldiers and felt that this could be done without friction. In Alabama there was an expressed feeling against “strange Negroes in large numbers,” and throughout the South it was believed that separate camps would be preferable. Objections grew less and less, however, as reports of the Negro’s enthusiasm for the draft came from all parts of the country.
The Negro went to camp willingly and those who remained gave him up whole-heartedly, sending him away with feasting and speech-making, songs and cheers, as well as with prayers and tears. Not only his kinsmen, but white citizens as well, vied with one another in their endeavor to do him honor and make him proud that he was going to serve his country. Sometimes a governor would address the draftees, and, as was often the case, parades would be led by mayors, chiefs of police, and city councilmen. Often the stores would close in honor of those called to the colors, and in one case an entire town turned out to see its only colored draftee leave for service. At such times the Negro’s patriotism reached its highest point. Not only those summoned but every Negro present was filled with intense emotion. Especially was this demonstrated when the colored contingent from Thomas County, Ga., assembled prior to movement to Camp Gordon. One farmer who had not harvested his crop made a final appeal for respite. The exemption officer called for a volunteer to take his place from the other men who were certified but not yet called. It is said that there was a stampede for the place.
The selective draft was fair in its inception, including all citizens alike, but unfortunately it did not always operate impartially when Negroes were involved. In Fulton County, Ga., the draft board had to be ordered dismissed for “unwarranted exemptions and discharges.” Out of 815 white men called by this board 526 were exempted, 44 per cent on physical grounds. At the same time 202 Negroes were called and only 6 exempted. The action of this board was by no means typical, but it illustrates what the Negro draftee sometimes had to contend with. In the determination of claims there appeared to be no discrimination, according to the report of the Provost Marshal, yet those called sometimes told sad stories as they were being led away to camp. Sometimes it would be the story of a man with a wife and five children, with ages from seven years to six months, who had been changed from Class 4 to 1-A. Sometimes Negro men living on their own farms, with crops growing and livestock to be cared for, were sent away to camp, while single men working for large planters were put in Class 4. All told it appears that many Negroes who had sufficient claim for exemption were drafted and sent away to camp. The figures taken from General Crowder’s report show that of the 1,078,331 colored men who registered, 556,917, or 51.65 per cent, were placed in Class 1, while 521,414 were in the deferred class. Of the 9,562,515 white men who registered, 3,110,659, or 32.53 per cent, were in Class 1, while 6,451,856 were in deferred classes. The numbers selected for full military service were 342,247 colored men and 1,916,750 white, or 31.74 per cent and 26.84 per cent respectively. The report further showed that 74.60 colored and 69.71 white out of every 100 men called were physically able to serve the country. Such figures were a revelation.
Various explanations were offered to account for this discrepancy. It was noted that voluntary enlistment was not open in the South to Negroes as to white men; thus it was estimated that 650,000 white men enlisted in this section and only 4000 colored men. Moreover pleas or excuses for deferment were not so readily accepted in the case of Negroes. Some also were regarded as delinquents and brought to camp as such when they really did not belong in this class. Migration complicated the situation and cards notifying Negro draftees of their call were often delayed and occasionally not even sent to them. The result was that men who had no intention of wrongdoing were sometimes arrested and treated as deserters. For each such case the local officer received fifty dollars. This practice became so profitable that camp authorities found it necessary to intervene to protect the well-intentioned draftee whom circumstances had unfortunately placed in the clutches of the law. If everything is considered, the evidence is conclusive that the Negro’s response to America’s call in the World War will remain a lasting tribute to his patriotism. He furnished his quota cheerfully. “The doubts expressed of his Americanism were ill considered and the fears concerning his loyalty were groundless.”
Many a Negro, as he left home and loved ones, for the first time thought of himself as a part of the Government and as sharing equally with every other citizen in the performance of his duty. Some had heard wonderful speeches about democracy and the brotherhood of all men, and each man cherished in his soul the idea of liberty. Each uttered a silent prayer that if he returned he might share more fully in the democracy for which he fought. One captain, about to set sail for France, expressed the hope in the heart of every Negro when he said: “I am leaving to-day a wife and three children. As great as the sacrifice is, I shall be satisfied never to see America again, if my wife and children will share greater opportunities and enjoy more liberty than I now enjoy”; and not only the men but the women who saw them leave shared this point of view.
Thus a loyal, kindly, and patient people went forth to do and to die, answering every call, and thinking first of their country and their great love for it in the hour of national peril.
CHAPTER II
IN CAMP
The late Franklin K. Lane, Secretary of the Interior, said that two hundred thousand men out of the first two million composing the American army could neither write to their mothers and fathers nor read the letters written to them. Just how many Negro soldiers were illiterate will probably never be known, but it is certain that tens of thousands of them could not read or write. The percentage of illiteracy was highest in the non-combatant units, where education was not primarily essential and where the first requirement was that the men be physically fit to do the heavy work necessary. In such organizations it was not unusual to find that 75 per cent of the men were illiterate. At one time when an order was given a company that all men who could neither read nor write should step forward, practically the whole company advanced. In a machine-gun group of 167 men there were 127 illiterates; in a class of seventeen of these men four had never heard of Abraham Lincoln, seven had never heard of Booker T. Washington, and none had ever heard of Frederick Douglass. Many soldiers had never heard of Germany, Servia, France, or Russia, or of kaisers and czars. Hundreds, born and raised in the states from which they were called, did not know what city was their state capital. Birthdays were given to many, and sometimes even names were furnished. Thousands were away from the old plantations for the first time; until called to register, some did not know that the Great War was raging.
In striking contrast to these men was another group, those whom education and experience had fitted for the great undertaking. These were graduates from representative institutions, they were trained in the various crafts, arts, and professions, and were neat in appearance, responsive, and fired with enthusiasm. Great numbers of those of whom we have been speaking, however, had never attended school a day in their lives. Naturally they had little or no knowledge of the laws of health. They did not always understand that clothes were to be changed at bedtime and sometimes punishment had to be meted out for failure to take the required number of baths per week. Guards frequently were on duty at night to see that barrack windows were not closed in the effort to keep out the treacherous night air.
The barracks at the different camps to which these men were sent were usually comfortably built. This was especially true in the national army cantonments, where they were satisfactorily heated, lighted, and ventilated, with spacious mess halls, sanitary latrines, and adequate bathing facilities. Such provisions was not always found where tents had to be used, though the situation was improved when the tents were boxed and floored and had stoves and electric lights. It is regrettable that in the army, when there was a supply of old tents to be used, the Negro soldiers were generally the recipients. When camps were crowded and units had to be moved to less desirable quarters, most frequently it was the Negro units that were moved. In rainy seasons they suffered from exposure, and influenza made great inroads among them.
The task of supplying the men with clothes was a stupendous one. Even honest attempts to get clothing for any group of men did not always meet with success, and for the Negro soldiers it was at times exceedingly difficult to secure what was necessary. When there was a shortage they were the ones to suffer. In Camp McClellan, Anniston, Ala., late in November they were found wearing little besides a fatigue suit because winter underwear, “O. D.” suits, overcoats, and shoes had not yet arrived. When there were second hand, unmatched khaki suits and second hand hats, these passed to the Negroes. On one occasion at Camp Sevier, Greenville, S. C., such clothing arrived in boxes marked for the “current colored draft.” At Camp Hill, Newport News, Va., where there were several thousand of the suits referred to as the “old Civil War blue,” it was decided that the Negro soldiers should wear them. When one of the organizations thus clad marched through the camp it became the laughing-stock of the rest of the soldiers and the men were humiliated. In Camp Humphrey, Va., through which 40,000 Negro soldiers passed, not until after the Armistice and until the white soldiers were discharged did the Negro men have such conveniences as barracks, comfortable mess halls, and sanitary facilities; and their “Y” tent was especially leaky. Such conditions in different places easily gave the Negro people the impression that their sons were being mistreated and were suffering in the camps, and this accounted for considerable unrest. In spite of the occasional lack of clothing, however, and poorly prepared food, those soldiers who survived the test were discharged from the army more fit physically than when they entered it, and thus the manhood of the country was made stronger and better.
The modern American cantonments required the labor of hundreds of soldiers to keep them up to the requirements set by the inspectors. Negro soldiers who were stationed in all the camps did their full share of this work, and their special achievement is described in our chapter on the Stevedore. The ambition of every man in camp, however, was to be a real soldier, one who took up his knapsack and marched off to battle. “I don’t want to stagger under heavy boxes,” said one stevedore, “I want a gun on my shoulder and the opportunity to go to the front.” Nearly three-fourths of all the Negro soldiers, however, were in non-combatant units. In these units very little military training was given. “Our drilling,” said one soldier, “consisted in marching to and from work with hoes, shovels, and picks on our shoulders.” In some of the more liberal camps the men got from thirty minutes to one hour of drill without guns after the day’s work. Where there was an absence of genuine military training there was always a lack of soldierly spirit on the part of both officers and men. Where there was conscientious effort to train and instruct the men in military science, however, there was enthusiasm for the work.
The Negro is able to adjust himself to the life of a soldier with comparative ease. His happy disposition and responsiveness to sincere, efficient leadership, his regard for discipline and love for his uniform, his sense of rhythm and his physical courage, are distinct military assets. The fact that many officers preferred to command Negro troops was a splendid tribute to their ability. In one camp where there were eight commands with Negro soldiers, one hundred and fourteen officers applied for the posts. With the exception of the 92nd and 93rd Divisions, Negro soldiers were almost entirely commanded by white officers. In combatant units, and even in non-combatant units where some military training was given, there were few complaints and the officers were proud of their men.
In non-combatant organizations, on the other hand, some of the commanding officers were disappointed because they had not been placed with fighting units. They felt detached and humiliated. While as the usual thing the corporals were colored, the sergeants were generally white men. Only in rare cases were the non-commissioned officers all white or all colored. Several reasons were given for placing white sergeants in these units. It was said that most of the Negroes forming such organizations had little or no knowledge of military tactics and that experienced white men were needed to organize them; moreover, that white officers could get more work out of labor units than could Negro “non-coms.” It was felt that these men, having come in contact with Negroes on plantations, public works, and turpentine farms, would be especially competent to handle them. Unfortunately these officers were often ignorant and when provoked would curse the men and call them abusive names. In rare cases they even went so far as to strike the men. There were also some examples of colored sergeants who belonged to the “treat ’em rough” group. On the other hand, there was a class of white non-commissioned officers from the Western and Northern states who, claiming no previous acquaintance with the Negro, managed by considerate handling to have excellent morale in their organizations.
There were various rules in the camps concerning the issuing of passes. In a few camps Negroes were not required to get passes in order to leave, provided they returned by a certain hour at night. Most frequently, however, passes were issued, though with less frequency than to white soldiers. Sometimes the Negroes were denied the privilege of visiting the cantonment cities for fear that trouble might arise. One very effective means of restriction was the establishing of a state of quarantine.
Much was said during the war about throwing the arm of protection about the soldier lest evil should befall him. The Government desired him to return to his home a cleaner and a better man. In states where there were no prohibition laws the Government prohibited saloons within a radius of twenty-five miles from a camp. Federal and city officials worked to carry out the letter of the law, but their task was exceedingly difficult. While no open saloons existed in cantonment cities, there was evidence of almost free access to some kind of intoxicating liquor. Bootleggers sold their wares for from six to sixteen dollars a quart, and numerous resorts were close at hand. Fortunately, while there were cases in which individual soldiers were arrested for drunkenness, the vigilance of the authorities prevented the problem from becoming serious in cantonment cities.
In the army it was not generally felt that gambling or swearing affected the fighting ability of the soldier. As a result of this attitude little was done to influence the men in regard to these evils. Officers occasionally prohibited gambling in their commands, but generally it flourished. Y. M. C. A. secretaries sometimes called the sergeants together and instituted campaigns against gambling, and these did some good, but as long as camp officials were tolerant, little could be accomplished. “Shooting craps” was a popular form of recreation, and some officers encouraged this as long as it was played in the open. Great crowds of men would gather in camp streets or barracks and “roll” their last dime away. With other things affecting the moral welfare of the men we shall deal in a later chapter.
One of the strong objections to placing white and colored soldiers in the same camps was that there would be race conflicts. This proved not to be the case, and with few exceptions the relations between the races in every camp were good. Where the exceptions did occur, they were due to the policies of officials rather than to the inclinations of the men themselves. The fact that the war was a common cause made most soldiers tolerant of the “other fellow,” in spite of their prejudices. Even in sections where the idea of separation prevailed white and Negro soldiers often used the same building, played games together, and attended the same picture shows and entertainments. Occasionally they played in the same shows and orchestras; they frequently wrote letters for one another, and had many other points of agreeable contact. Sometimes, if they were from the same city or town and met in camps miles away from home, they acted like brothers. One day two such lads from a town in Louisiana met at Camp Pike, and their joy at meeting was noticeable to all. Grasping each other’s arm, they walked away from the crowd and sat down on a nearby hillside, where they spent the happiest hour they had experienced in camp. This friendly attitude, which made for harmony, was occasionally looked upon with disfavor by the officers and even by “Y” secretaries, and measures intended to prevent such contact sometimes engendered bitterness and frequently caused friction.
Captain C. Rowan, stationed at Camp Pike, Little Rock, Ark., received wide publicity when, on March 25, 1918, he disobeyed the order of his brigade commander, Col. F. B. Snow, of the 162nd Depot Brigade. This order called for a review in which Negroes and white soldiers were to appear in the same formation. Captain Rowan said that the order called for a formation in which there would be intermingling of the races, that custom would be violated, and that the discipline and self-respect of the white soldiers would be affected. He himself, he said, had no prejudice and was willing to command a Negro organization, but he had taken his course of action because he felt that it was for the good of the service. He was dismissed from the service, but during the trial a delegation from a Southern legislature visited the camp to see if the races were intermingling, and both white and Negro soldiers, who had temporarily laid aside race hatred, had it kindled anew within them.
Just as there were camps where military authority was used to carry out unjust orders, there were also camps where harmony prevailed because commanding officers believed in fair play. On one occasion a Texas regiment arrived at Camp Upton, N. Y. On their first night in camp a group of the soldiers went into a Y. M. C. A. building and saw two Negro men sitting there writing. Being unaccustomed to such scenes, the group threw them out of the window. The camp “Y” secretary reported the matter to the late General Bell, who said he would investigate the case. There were four thousand Negro soldiers in camp, and as the day passed there were rumors of an impending clash, and there was some anxiety on the part of the authorities. Late in the afternoon the General called all the officers of the Texas regiment to headquarters and after they had been introduced he said: “Gentlemen, I am the General of this camp. Something happened here last night that has never happened before, nor will it ever happen again. If there is any trouble here you will be held responsible. Your men started the affair. If there is trouble every one of you will be disgraced and put in the guard house for the duration of the war. You won’t be tried by a Texas jury. I shall be both judge and jury. Secretary Baker and the Chief of Staff, General March, have said that every man in the uniform is the equal of every other man. They are my superiors and I am yours. I am soldier enough to obey orders, and you must do likewise.” The Colonel said, “Yes, sir, I understand,” and the officers left the headquarters no man uttering a word. After they reached their quarters they called their regiment together, and peace and order prevailed afterwards in that camp.
There were many lesser deeds of this kind which gave hope and encouragement to Negro soldiers as they served the country, and it was clearly demonstrated that colored and white soldiers could live, work, drill, and play together without friction or riots, if only the square deal was meted to all alike. Naturally the opportunity of serving together in a great cause and of coming to know a little better Americans of all groups was responsible for a greater spirit of tolerance on the part of many thousands of men. A young lieutenant, born and raised in South Carolina and graduated from the University of Georgia, said that he really hated Negroes before he was assigned to the branch of Negro artillery located at Camp Jackson. He was brought up on a plantation and expected to see in his battery much lying, stealing, and gambling. When he realized that the men who had been selected for his branch of the service were physically and educationally fit and that their conduct was excellent, he frankly said that his ideas had changed.
Of special importance was the Negro’s contribution to the joys of camp life by his religion and song. His religion gave him courage that enabled him to go forward when the path was dark, and his song not only made his own burdens lighter but enabled him to bring cheer and sunshine to thousands of discouraged soldiers. A Negro who on the parade ground tried to master a drill or who went through a savage bayonet exercise, at night frequently forgot completely his daily work as he sang “Ain’t goin’ to study war no more.” From early morning until taps sounded at night, moreover, one could hear the strains of music in the “Y” hut. It might be anything from a “blues” played on the piano with one finger to some classic theme. Sometimes a soldier would begin playing a familiar song on the piano and the strain would be taken up until all who were present were singing. On one Sunday three thousand Negroes from Florida who had just arrived at Camp Devens, Mass., held a meeting. A quartet and a soloist rendered several numbers. Then one man who had a beautiful baritone voice led the three thousand men as they sang “I need thee every hour.” Most of the men were from farms and away from their loved ones for the first time in their lives—strangers in a strange land. As their thoughts were far away the leader began the refrain of “S’wanee River,” and as they sang of the “old folks at home” the music rose until the very rafters shook. Tears were in the eyes of stalwart men that Sunday afternoon, and there was a warmth and a harmony about it that was unlike anything in the world.
With all the hardships the experience gained in camp more than repaid the thousands of Negro soldiers, who had come from all classes and included the country lad, who had been denied educational advantages, as well as the college youth. The progress of many men from day to day was an inspiration. Thousands who on entering camp had a shambling gait soon displayed a firm step and erect carriage. The blank expression seen on many faces gave way to one of animation and enthusiasm, not only for the training but also for the victory of the cause in which they were enlisted. The crudest material, under efficient guidance, developed into the capable soldier, all because these men, like thousands of others, in France as well as in America, were giving their very lives to the country to which all owed so much.
CHAPTER III
THE NEGRO OFFICER
The Plattsburg idea of military training was inaugurated in 1915, when Maj. Gen. Leonard Wood organized a special training camp for civilians. The purpose of the camp was to offer four weeks of intensive training under the direct supervision of officers of the United States Army, and it was intended that this should be of such thoroughness that the men receiving it would be able to serve as officers in an emergency, as was afterwards done by a large number of Plattsburg men who served under General Pershing in the course of the trouble with Mexico.
Colored men were not given an opportunity to attend the Plattsburg camps. There was, consequently, no way in which any considerable number of them could secure the training necessary to enable them, in an emergency, to serve as officers. In order to meet this exigency, many Negroes and their friends endeavored to secure the establishment of a training camp for colored officers, although at first the idea of a separate camp was not popular. In the winter of 1917, however, Major General Wood agreed to organize the camp if two hundred colored men would signify their intention of attending; and in this period of uncertainty and anxiety, friends of the movement started a campaign with the hope of creating sufficient interest to warrant the establishment of the camp.
Dr. Joel E. Spingarn, one of the principal officers of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People and a true friend of the Negro, who was the strongest advocate of the training camp, in May, 1917, sent out a circular letter calling for colored men to enter the volunteer service of the United States Army in order that the number of men necessary for the establishment of the camp might be secured. There was strong protest on the part of the Negro press and of many individuals against a “segregated camp,” the criticisms coming from all parts of the country. Dr. Spingarn, in reply, gave among other reasons for the establishment of the camp the following: “The army officials want the camp to fail. The last thing they want is to help colored men to become commissioned officers. The camp is intended to fight segregation, not to encourage it. Colored men in a camp by themselves would all get a fair chance for promotion. Opposition on the part of Negroes is helping the South, which does not want the Negroes to have any kind of military training. If there is a war, there will doubtless be conscription of all able-bodied men. The choice will be no longer between volunteering or not volunteering, but between conscription and rebellion. If conscription comes, will the leaders of the race help their Southern enemies by preaching treason and rebellion, or will they face facts right now and prepare themselves to go as leaders and not as privates?” As the notes passed between the American and German Governments, people more and more realized that the trend of events would inevitably lead to war; this realization gave impetus to the movement, and finally a concerted effort was made to secure the training camp, even the opponents of the separate camp idea becoming its supporters.
With the actual declaration of war with Germany came the imperative need of this opportunity for Negroes to train as officers, as it was certain that thousands would be called to the colors. Conferences were held with the War Department officials, and Dr. Spingarn meanwhile worked untiringly. Dr. Stephen M. Newman, president of Howard University, Washington, D. C., together with a joint committee of teachers and students and a citizens’ committee composed of representative Negroes of Washington, also held conferences with officials and labored in behalf of the camp.
There was misgiving on the part of many concerning the training of Negroes as officers. Among the objections made to the establishment of the camp was that “a separate camp could not be established because all garrisons and forts were required for white men”; and it was further said that “Negroes could not make officers, and if trained, Negro soldiers would not follow them.” Many army men did not believe that the camp would be a success because they did not feel that the Negro had the ability to do the required work; and President Newman was even asked by department officials if he honestly felt that colored people had the intelligence and the grit to undergo such training as was given in the preparation camps and come out as capable officers.
When the War Department was finally convinced that colored men should at least have the opportunity to attend an officers’ training camp, and all arrangements were made, news of the authorization of the same was sent broadcast over the country; and few announcements have ever been made that were received with more enthusiasm than the special dispatch which was sent out from Washington on May 19, 1917, by Adjutant General H. P. McCain to the chiefs of staff of the various departments of the army:
“Training camps for colored citizens will be established at Fort Des Moines, Iowa, under section 4, National Defense Act, and regulations prescribed for present training camps, except as modified herein and after. Total attendance 1250, of whom 250 will be non-commissioned officers, colored regiments, regular army, to be sent on detached service status, and 1000 citizens, either enlisted under section 4, National Defense Act, for three months, beginning June 18, with agreement to accept appointment tendered, or Members of National Guard, whose status will be as in case of National Guardsmen now in training camps. Secure ... co-operation of colored citizens of wide acquaintance and high standing. Training camps will be ready to receive non-commissioned officers, regular army, June 5, and all others June 15. Course begins June 18.”
Newspapers throughout the country commented on the fact that at last Negroes would have a real opportunity to serve not only as privates but as officers. Southern papers, while opposed on general principles to military training for Negroes, spoke favorably of the plan, always making clear, however, that Southern traditions must be upheld; thus the Charleston Post said, “Officers as high as majors may be turned out, but will positively be used to command only Negroes.” But as circumstances each day forced our countrymen to change some sacred, traditional idea, and as the seemingly impossible came into being, as it were, overnight, then the white citizens of each Southern state were proud that it had its quota of Negroes “with a college training or its equivalent” to send; and many Southern men gladly gave letters of endorsement to representative Negroes who were setting forth upon their great mission. Then in each of the six departments into which the United States is divided by the War Department, Negroes presented themselves for examination. Many traveled hundreds of miles to be present on the appointed day. Some men, in their eagerness to serve, appeared before the recruiting officers possessing the physical and age qualifications, but lacking other preparation; and sometimes friends, in their desire to reward loyal service, sent butlers and other helpers for examination, only to have them disappointed. When it became evident that Negroes would be called in large numbers, as the training of officers indicated, many objections were made throughout the country to having Negro soldiers stationed in certain camps. In an interview Col. H. T. Ferguson especially assured the anxious citizens of Des Moines that they would never regret the fact that their city had been designated for the training of the first contingent of Negro officers ever commissioned by the United States.
As June 15 approached and officer candidates were notified of their acceptance, colored America felt as never before that it was entering upon a new era and into the larger citizenship to which it had always aspired. Joy reigned among the army sergeants at the thought not only of trying for commissions themselves, but also of helping others of their race to do likewise; and the civilians went forth with the knowledge that all eyes were on them and that the prayers and hopes of a race went with them. No knight ever started on a nobler quest than did these Negro men from all walks of life, and the crowds that went to the stations to bid them good-by and that watched the trains until they were out of sight went home with a new feeling of confidence and of hope.
On the arrival of the candidates at Des Moines, civilian customs, thoughts, and habits soon gave way for the iron discipline involved in making officers. Men who had thought of the camp as the place for a summer vacation soon were undeceived. Colonel C. C. Ballou and his staff of officers put them through a daily program beginning at 5.30 a. m. with reveille and flag-raising and ending with taps at 9.45 p. m. From 7.30 to 8.30 a. m. there was infantry drill without arms, from 8.30 to 9 manual or physical training, from 9.15 to 10.15 infantry drill, from 10.45 to 11.45 a practice hike without arms; then dinner; from 1.30 to 2.30 p. m. musketry arms, from 2.30 to 3 semaphore signaling, from 3 to 4.30 conferences on care of equipment, and from 7 to 8 evening study on the organization of the regiment. As progress was made other work was taken up, including bayonet drill, trench-digging, manoeuvering, map-making and target practice, and lectures were also given showing the relation of the camp to the great national army. It was fully realized that success or failure in the crucial test carried with it far-reaching results. Colonel Ballou, in speaking to the men on one occasion, said: “This is a momentous hour, and the establishment of this camp is an epochal and unprecedented event in the history of the colored race. Your race will be on trial with you as its representatives, during the existence of this camp, and to succeed there will be required of you strong bodies, keen intelligence, absolute obedience to orders, unflagging industry, exemplary conduct, and character of the highest order.” With such incentive the men worked away at the most strenuous business in which they were ever engaged. And yet there were some good times—recreation in the form of baseball and other athletic contests and the privilege of visiting in the city of Des Moines on Saturday and Sunday. The Y. M. C. A. furnished motion pictures and programs on Saturday and Sunday evenings, and through its efforts some of the leading speakers of the country appeared. Of special inspiration in this connection was the presence in camp of one of the secretaries, the “grand old man,” Dr. George W. Cabiniss, who gave up a lucrative practice in Washington to be with the “boys,” and who spent himself unstintingly in their behalf.
Soldiers were often invited to the churches as well as the homes in the city, and here they occasionally rendered musical programs. By this means the anxiety of the earlier days of the summer gave way to an interest and friendship between the citizens and the candidates that will live for decades. The first event which won general esteem for the officer candidates was an exhibition drill in the Drake University stadium, which was followed by musical numbers. Here ten thousand people gathered and marveled at what their eyes beheld. The last big event was the program given at White Sparrows, where hundreds of people were turned away. Here the men sang the old plantation melodies with the sweetness and plaintiveness possible only to the Negro, and arias and recitatives from the great oratorios as well. The audience stood in eagerness until the last note was sung; then as a tribute, at the close of the concert, Rev. Dr. Medbury said of the candidates, “It is not enough to say that by their demeanor while among us, their conduct on the streets, in the theatres and business houses, they have brought honor to their race; they are, rather, an honor to the race of men.”
Thus the spirit of the men themselves was the biggest factor in the success of Fort Des Moines. They began their training knowing that there were questions in the minds of many, and they spent hours of toil in the effort to prove that they could make good. The attitude of each one was to help somebody else. One man might be seen explaining to a comrade some problem in mathematics, another helping in the study of topography, and still another with some squad trying to perfect it in the handling of arms. A precious jewel is not more carefully guarded than was the good name of the camp. Like a sentinel on duty each candidate watched lest some untoward act might work harm. One day an apple orchard belonging to a neighboring farmer was invaded. The farmer notified Colonel Ballou that some of the soldiers had stolen his apples. When the men concerned found that the camp was accused, on their own initiative they reported to headquarters and offered to pay all damages. The commanding officer, in commenting on the incident, said, “Something has happened to-day that has made me feel fine and that is new in my army experience.”
The candidates were proud of their martial bearing. Their cleanliness made a favorable impression everywhere they went. Soon after they went to Des Moines some of the café and restaurant owners thought it unwise to serve them, and when a number of the men entered a chop suey “palace,” the Chinese proprietor rushed up to them waving his arms wildly and shouting, “No servee black men; me lose all bliziness.” When some other proprietors showed a disposition to act with similar policy, Colonel George W. Ball of the 1st Iowa Infantry ordered that all men, regardless of color, must be fed, saying, “This is Government business and there can be no refusal to serve these men”; and drastic action was threatened against all restaurant keepers who persisted in drawing the color line. Naturally Utopian conditions did not always prevail at the camp and there were many disappointments. Many an ambitious “rookie” was sent home because of some defect or peculiarity that prevented his making an officer, and even after some had served the allotted time it was found that they were not suitable material. In the process of elimination there were those who thought that they were unjustly marked, and it is true that at Des Moines only five civilian captains were made and that there the outcome was just the reverse of that in the training camps for white men, which was that the men with the superior training most frequently received the higher commissions. Because of the policy followed one colonel said that “A great harm was done not only the colored officer but the colored race as well,” for in many cases the standard for officers was lowered by the commissioning as captains of men with a sixth or eighth grade education and as second lieutenants many college graduates. Through it all, however, there was hope, because the candidates believed in themselves and others believed in them, chief among whom was Secretary Baker, who said in one of the darkest hours, “I am depending on you and the Fort Des Moines colored officers’ training school. It should not be surpassed by any of the other camps which are training officers, and the promotions are not to be limited to lieutenants and captains, but to what you are capable of making.”
As the end of the training period drew near an extra month was added. This action raised doubts, not only in the minds of the candidates but with the colored people throughout the country. It was a trying season everywhere, for the extension of time came close upon the riots at Houston. A general from the War Department came to the camp and spoke in a most discouraging manner of the future of the candidates. He questioned the advisability of continuing the camp and raised doubts as to whether the candidates would ever be commissioned. A few days after his visit it was announced that all who wanted to leave might do so. Some of the more faint-hearted left, but most of the men continued their studies and gained further knowledge of the essentials of warfare. Gradually the clouds cleared away and those who remained looked forward to the time when they would be real officers in the Army of the United States.
Then came the day of days, October 15, 1917, when 625 colored men were commissioned in the United States Army. As they came forward to receive their commissions they were deeply moved, and even the commanding officer showed visible signs of emotion as he gave to them words of farewell and impressed upon them the seriousness of the task before them. Dr. Emmett J. Scott, Special Assistant to the Secretary of War, said to them: “I know you will bear in mind that in a very real sense you and those who serve with you have in your keeping the good name of a proud, expectant, and confident people”; and each man went away with the feeling of responsibility that comes when life is dedicated to a great cause. Thus a new chapter was begun in the history of the Negro on this continent and the first skirmish to prove that Negro men could absorb the training required of officers was won with honors.
After a brief vacation of fifteen days, the new officers reported to the various camps and were assigned to their duties. While they had successfully completed the course of study at Fort Des Moines, the real test of making officers was still before them. This task was made more difficult by the assignments to duty which some of them received. Some were sent to the artillery and engineering corps and given tasks for which they had had no preparation. Having already absorbed army discipline, however, they went about their tasks with the hope of mastering them, though with opinion against them.
The organization of the 92nd Division, composed entirely of Negroes drafted into the National Army, made it necessary to train officers and men in other branches than infantry and cavalry, with which Negroes had formerly served and for which they had been trained. Therefore engineer, artillery, and machine-gun regiments were formed along with the other branches required in the full organization of a division. While divisions were usually trained in one camp, the regiments of the 92nd were distributed in several groups.
The engineers were trained at Camp Sherman. Draftees with a knowledge of the building trades were especially desirable for this branch of service, and volunteers from well known industrial schools entered this regiment. Colored infantry officers from Des Moines, captains and lieutenants, who were without training in engineering, were put in command. After seven months of training prior to their embarkation for France, the captains were sent to infantry outfits, being relieved by white engineer officers. This action on the part of the War Department affected somewhat the morale of the regiment. After nearly three months in France the colored lieutenants were also transferred. There remained, however, five colored officers with the outfit—two tram officers, two physicians, and a dentist. When these also were not retained they and the soldiers felt that there was discrimination. It is true that they were not trained as engineers, but the ultimate trouble would seem rather to lie in withholding engineer training from them while they were in the officers’ training school in Des Moines.
Negro soldiers had long been distinguished in the infantry and cavalry, but they had never been placed in the artillery branch of service. It was said that they could not learn the principles of artillery warfare, and, as for their being officers, it was doubtful if they could measure up to the requirements. Nevertheless at Camp Dix the 349th and 350th artillery regiments were formed with colored men, and officers who had graduated at Des Moines were put in command. Since it had been said that Negro men could not be trained as artillerymen, it is interesting that it should be thought that they could make artillery officers without any training at all. A week before the recruits appeared at the camp, some classes in artillery subjects were held for the officers, and during the training of the regiment the officers were many times taught subjects just the night before they were to teach them to the men, school being held from one to two hours. Even under these conditions a surprisingly efficient organization was developed. After nearly seven months, however, the colored artillery officers were declared inefficient. It was then decided that they would have to go to the artillery school at Fort Sill, Okla. Twenty-four men were sent, these being largely regular army men. Many of the well educated infantry officers from other regiments applied for the artillery work, but it was claimed that they could not be spared from their organizations, and in some cases officers with low rating were sent to Fort Sill against their desires. Is it surprising that many of these failed to pass the entrance examination and that about half of them asked to be returned to Camp Dix after the first week?
While the artillery school at Fort Sill gave the men every chance, after the first two weeks the camp began returning the colored officers to their outfits, until at the end of ten weeks only six remained. These six were given artillery commissions. During their training period they had separate barracks and a separate mess, though the camp commander, Colonel Fleming, demanded that they receive the courtesy due officers.
Soon after these graduates returned to Camp Dix, all the colored officers were ordered to Camp Meade to attend an artillery school. On their arrival at Meade, orders were issued that they put on enlisted men’s clothes. The impression among the white officers of the 351st Artillery, said to be due to verbal orders, was that senior colored officers would first salute junior white officers and that, as far as white officers were concerned, the colored officers were considered officer candidates. They could wear their uniforms on Sunday, if passes were given them to leave the camp. The War Department was notified of conditions in the school and in four days the men were again returned to their outfit just before it sailed for France.
White officers in the 349th and 350th who had commanded the colored officers, formed a board to examine them. All were declared inefficient, even the six graduates from Fort Sill, and were assigned to the Depot Brigade. The War Department again intervened, and the six graduates were ordered with their outfits again, and accompanied them to France. While the remaining officers did not accompany their regiments to France, they had done some fine work in teaching the men the use of horses and in putting snap in the drill and in the handling of the guns. The record made by these regiments, which continued their training in France, was more than surprising. Accounts of their work will be given elsewhere.
The experience of these officers in attempting to do artillery work without training resulted in many charges and counter-charges with reference to their fitness for this branch of service. Through the office of the Assistant to the Secretary of War conferences were held with department officials in the endeavor to secure for Negro men an opportunity to train as officers. While there was opposition to the undertaking, the plan was finally approved and an honest attempt was made to select Negro men fitted, because of their training, to do work in artillery schools. Ninety-six were gathered at Camp Meade, some having been selected from the Signal Corps Engineers and artillery regiments and some from the camps where infantry regiments of the 92nd Division were stationed. These men remained at Meade for a month, with two white batteries, after which time they were sent to Camp Taylor, Ky., where all artillery schools were centralized. The colored candidates were not expected when they reached the school and no arrangements had been made for them. The first night they spent on the outskirts of the camp, and before they finally got settled they were moved six times, always after spending enough time in one place to get floors scrubbed, windows washed, and barracks thoroughly cleaned. The commander of the school spoke to the battery and gave the impression that it was not wanted. Between the batteries, however, the relationship was good; the Western men were considerate in sharing their knowledge with the colored candidates, who made an excellent impression by their “pep” and snap in drilling and by the aptitude for artillery work which they showed. Those candidates who remained in the school until the end were recommended for firing battery, combat trains, and replacement draft, but at the last the camp commander decided that only those men recommended for firing batteries should receive commissions. Thirty-three of the ninety-six men who started out were graduated. Of the twenty-five hundred graduates of the school, ten were honor men, and six of these were colored. Eleven more colored men were graduated in October. The five students in each battery who were highest at graduation were called out and given diplomas. As the five Negro men came forward, the white candidates led in the cheering. After the first graduation, of those men who remained, ten to fifteen were dropped weekly. The last twelve were transferred to the 814th Pioneer Infantry as sergeants, and accompanied that organization to England and France. After much discussion in the War Department, and effort on the part of the Special Assistant to the Secretary of War, concessions were finally made and the thirty-three artillery officers were sent to Camp Jackson, S. C., where Negro men were being trained as artillerymen. Here there was great interest in them, especially on the part of the Negro population of Columbia. These people stood in admiring groups as the officers passed and sometimes gave vent to their emotions by clapping or cheering. Trouble arose, however, chiefly over the matter of salutes from the other soldiers; riots were feared; and after a week these officers were sent to Newport News, and then on to France.
To the aviation school at Fort Sill four colored officers were sent. The first to arrive was supposed to be white and was treated accordingly. In the case of the other three, however, who arrived a few days later, there could be no mistake as to identity. These men were given a separate table and placed in a separate class, with a sergeant instructor who observed no military courtesies. Such treatment continued until the men asked to be returned to their outfit. Because he was constantly seen in the company of the other three men, the officer who was the first to arrive had been asked to move to their table. After the others left, he continued the course, remaining in camp until two days before graduation. To Fort Sill were also sent those officers who were to receive instruction in the use of the machine-gun. It developed that the man in the class who was most efficient was a Negro. At the end of the course there was squad competition in the mechanical manipulation of a machine-gun, and the best of each squad was chosen. Some men objected to being represented by a Negro, but a major intervened and said, “I don’t give a —— if the man is black; everybody knows he is the best.” All who watched the competition marveled at the speed with which this man worked.
While these new officers were working at their task of training men to fight, it became certain that replacements would have to be made after they were in action at the front. Plans were not made on a scale comparable with the demand, but there was some effort to meet the need. A small number of men were selected from the various units of the 92nd Division and sent to the third officers’ training schools held in such camps as Upton, Meade, Sherman, Dodge, Funston, and Travis. Among the thousands who were receiving training they were almost lost, but sometimes they won the highest honors. In all these camps, except at Funston, they attended the same schools as the other candidates and received the treatment due them. Some were assigned to the 92nd Division and sailed to France with it, while others were detained to assist as instructors in the cantonments.
When the fighting units reached France and were receiving final training before moving up to the front line trenches, many of the officers attended various schools. The majority of such men completed the courses with high standing. One of the schools that proved a distinct success was a machine-gun school conducted by colored officers in charge of Lieut. B. A. Mosley, who made out the courses of study. The object was to make machine-gun officers out of infantry officers, giving them the principles of machine gunnery. Nearly two hundred officers and non-commissioned officers were sent from this school, which was approved by the First Corps and put on the standard of the A. E. F. schools. Under date August 27, 1918, Major John P. Bubb said of one of these schools: “In submitting reports of proficiency of captains of the 92nd Division who have recently been under my instruction, I request attention to the following facts. Certain captains, namely, Jones, Saunders, Scott, Stephens, Holland, Hollingsworth, and Granson, have done very well in their work. They are serious, dignified men of excellent caliber and are fully able to maintain the positions of trust and confidence in which they have been placed.... The balance of the class (all captains) are I believe as good as the average student who has passed through the school.”
In the fourth officers’ school, opened on May 15, 1918, at Camp Dodge, there were 280 Negro candidates, which number was soon increased to more than 300. These candidates were selected principally from the units of the 92nd Division, though some came from elsewhere. This school began under the command of Lt. Col. William G. Doane, who was assisted by ten colored men, with Captain M. T. Dean as senior instructor. For the first time in America, Negro officers in large numbers were instructing soldiers in the science of modern warfare, preparing them directly to take their places as officers in the great National Army. These men served for fifteen days, when a telegram was sent from the headquarters of the 92nd calling all the officers to their regiment. Their work, however, had proved a success. The candidates were all picked men, the school was well organized, and the officers showed the greatest confidence and faith in each other.
In the centralization of the officers’ training schools the infantry candidates were sent to Camp Pike, Little Rock, Ark., while the machine-gun candidates were sent to Camp Hancock, Augusta, Ga. Camp Pike had been spoken of in such a way by many Negro soldiers that the officer candidates were not enthusiastic about going there, and certainly this was true of the twenty-four second lieutenants who were assigned as assistant instructors. Truck drivers sent to meet them, on finding that they were colored, drove off, claiming that no provision had been made for Negroes. In the camp they were a source of wonderment. The instructors were white Southern officers and neither officers nor men were cordial. As time passed, however, prejudice in most cases turned to interest.
To Camp Hancock, Augusta, Ga., selected for the machine-gun school, fifty-six Negro men were sent. Forty-three of that number were graduated as second lieutenants. These men had been selected from various outfits in the 92nd because of the knowledge of mathematics and of the mechanical manipulation of the machine-gun which they had acquired in the various camp schools. The presence of a number of Negro officers in Augusta created a new situation, but both camp and city rose to the occasion. The commander decreed that every officer in the camp must receive the courtesy due him, and the leading paper of Augusta carried editorials that had a wholesome effect on public opinion. It happened that the thirteenth and last company in the school was colored. In the drills and in marching to the range, these men were last according to their number; but in marching in reverse order, as they did in returning from the range, they became the leaders. Some white candidates are said to have lost their commissions rather than drill behind this company. Most of the men, however, co-operated with the candidates in every way, and taught them map-reading in exchange for explanation in the mechanism of the gun. The instructors were for the most part French or British and apparently had little time for race feeling.
When the companies were divided into sections for trench-digging, dug-out practice, construction of shafts, and camouflaged machine-gun emplacements, the white and the colored men were in the same classes, and because of this contact both groups learned something of their comrades and became more liberal in their thoughts. In general the fine spirit prevailing in the camp was attributed to two things: first, to the influence of the camp commander, who was himself a Southern man, and second, to the fact that the new men reached camp just at the time of the Fourth Liberty Loan drive. The South, as well as the rest of the country, had really begun to feel the effects of the war, not only financially but also in the drain on its man-power; and as the 13th company pursued its work with diligence and concentration, always comparing favorably with others on the drill field, on the range, and in class work, there was a realization of the fact that, after all, they were fellow-Americans, slowly making headway; and when at graduation these Negro men came forward to receive their commissions in the great Liberty Theatre, where thousands of their comrades were, they were greeted with deafening applause and every heart and voice and hand seemed to cheer them on their way.
In the course of the preceding pages we have more than once touched upon incidents which not only affected the Negro officer personally but which also involved his real status in the army. It might now be in place to consider a little more fully some of the points raised.
On the arrival of Negro officers at a camp, several questions immediately arose, as to their eating, their living, and their general contact with other officers. Sometimes they were not expected and found that no preparation had been made for them. Fairly typical of the Southern camps was Camp McClellan, Anniston, Ala., which showed something of conditions especially at the beginning. Seven officers were sent here in September, 1918, and placed in command of the detention camp. In three weeks the detention camp was broken up and the soldiers transferred to the depot brigade. The colored officers were then attached to the 437th Reserve Labor Battalion, where they were required to do very little work and were soon relieved of all responsibility. Not all of the problems were confined to the South. In the North, however, big-hearted generals were usually in command and they decreed that regular army requirements should prevail.
One matter that constantly arose was that of the salute. Because of the conflicting opinions on this subject, Gen. John B. Castleman, a major in the Confederate army, was asked for a statement as to his attitude. In giving his opinion he said: “The discipline of the army must be maintained, and non-commissioned officers understand little of the spirit of the army when they refuse to salute a Negro officer. I have held several commissions in the military service, and I unhesitatingly say that I would or will, at any time, salute an officer, superior or inferior, who salutes me, without regard to the color of his skin. The regulations, the laws, and the fundamentals of courtesy and discipline upon which these regulations are based prescribe this. We are at war, and soldiers are under the rules of the American army. We are all under the flag. We salute the rank, not the individual.” This statement by General Castleman did much to help conditions at Camp Taylor and elsewhere. In general the military courtesies accorded Negro officers depended largely on the stand of the generals commanding the camps. If they demanded that strict military regulations be followed, trouble was immediately reduced to a minimum. A notable example was the action of Gen. Thomas H. Barry, of Camp Grant, Rockford, Ill., who on the arrival of the Negro officers and men gave a “family talk” at headquarters in which he said: “These men have come here on the same duty, actuated by the same principles, as ourselves. They are entitled to respect because they soon will be fighting to defend our homes. Colored officers must be saluted as punctiliously as the white ones. The salute is of vital importance to the whole fabric of discipline. It is not only a courtesy, but a recognition of personal relations in the service.”
From time to time there were unfortunate occurrences which received much publicity. Such was the case of Lieut. Joseph B. Saunders, who was publicly assaulted at Vicksburg, Miss., because he wore his uniform home after his period of training at Des Moines; also that of Lieut. Charles A. Tribbett, who was arrested and placed in jail for riding in a pullman car through the state of Oklahoma. There were also many instances in camp in which the Negro men themselves largely solved their problem. When colored officers arrived at Camp Funston, Kan., not over 10 per cent of the white officers and men saluted them. They had been told that they were going to have a hard time and set themselves with resolute purpose to the great task before them. In a month’s time the raw recruits were marching with heads up, eyes front, shoulders back, and with every arm swinging in line. As they marched to and from drill, the generals, colonels, and other officers as well as the men would stand along the “Golden Belt” and watch the black host as it passed. “This demonstration,” said one Negro captain, “changed everything. Now all men salute, and officers always try to salute first.” As Negro officers grew in numbers and were distributed throughout the camps, and as accounts of heroic deeds were heralded from the battlefields, and as it became generally known that Negroes were responding liberally to the various calls at home, the American public saw the justice of according recognition or merit where it was due, and the principle of the salute for Negro officers was settled, although in practice it was not always carried out.
Another matter that occasioned considerable feeling was that of promotions. Many regular army officers served for several years with junior rank, but always looked forward to the time when they would be promoted. Their opportunity came during the war. Many junior officers in the regular army and even civilian officers were promoted several times in the course of a year. It was natural that colored officers should also look forward to promotions, which were regarded as a recognition of work well done.
According to a memorandum of September 11, 1918, the War Department established the commands to be occupied by white and colored officers in the organization of the 92nd Division, and indicated that every opportunity would be given the Negro men to advance. In practice, however, there seems to have been some difficulty about carrying out the ideas therein suggested. The percentage of white officers in the Division increased from 18 per cent at the beginning, to 42 per cent on November 30, 1918. Very few recommendations for the promotion of Negro officers were made and most of these are said to have been “pigeon-holed” at headquarters. Some recommendations that were filed in July and August, 1918, were held until after the signing of the Armistice on November 11, when an A. E. F. order prohibited the granting of any more commissions. Another factor which prevented promotions in the 92nd Division was that colored officers from the 369th, 370th, and 372nd, and graduates from officers’ training schools in France were largely transferred to the 92nd Division. This made room for the promotion of white officers in the units from which the Negro officers were transferred, but prevented the promotion of colored officers in the 92nd.
Thus most of the Negro officers who served in the National Army were in the 92nd Division. The creation of this Division with Negro line officers was regarded by practically all regular army officers as one of the greatest mistakes ever made by the War Department. From their viewpoint it was wrong in principle, against all tradition, and could not possibly be a success. Not believing in the matter in principle, they did not want to deal with Negro men on such a basis; they did things to discredit them, even to the extent of spreading propaganda as to their unfitness for the work. Thus unfortunately the Negro officers returned home feeling that their commanding officers were not their friends; nor were matters improved by the effort of some incompetent men “higher up” who tried to cover their own inefficiency by laying the blame on the Negroes. The prevailing opinion expressed by the white officers returning from France was that the Negro soldier up to the rank of sergeant-major was a success, and they lauded the stevedore and labor organizations as contributing much to the magnificent service rendered by the Americans in Europe. The “experiment” of the Negro officer, they felt, was a different matter. A careful review of all the adverse points made might place them under four heads, as follows: First, the racial distinctions recognized in civilian life continued to be recognized in military life and presented a formidable barrier to the existence of a genuine feeling of comradeship; second, the colored officers were lacking in initiative and exhibited a characteristic tendency to neglect the welfare of their men and to perform their duties in a perfunctory manner, thus entailing on the part of senior officers frequent attention to petty details; third, many of the Negro officers went around with “a chip on their shoulders,” looking for discrimination and trouble; and fourth, most of the colored officers were willing to discipline their men but were unwilling themselves to be disciplined, charging any attempt to discipline them to prejudice.
These are serious charges. In reply to them first of all it is to be noted that on the troop ships, even before they got to France, the Negro officers were treated not according to their military rank but as on the basis of color. On the “George Washington,” for instance, which carried the 368th infantry, the tickets for the colored officers were marked with an X in the upper left hand corner, which enabled the purser to place them “conveniently.” The tickets for the white officers were not marked, and they were given first class passage on Deck A in respect to both dining and state rooms; but the colored officers, from the rank of captain down, were given second class passage in respect to staterooms and dining rooms. In traveling in France also the Negro officers were many times given third class coaches while the white officers were given first class. Specific cases are given where the officers were ordered by their commanders to take such passage. In the hotels and cafés as well constant effort was made for segregation, and in some cases instructions were given not to accept officers or soldiers when applications for rooms were made. At the Grand Hotel in Mayenne, where the division billeting officer was stationed, the hotel proprietress informed the colored officers, many of whom had previously stayed in the hotel, that they would have to go elsewhere for accommodations. On going to the “town major” to see about the new condition that had developed, the men were told that instructions had been given to the effect that no more colored officers were to be allowed in the hotel. Such incidents could be multiplied a hundred times. While in themselves they are no positive proof of Negro valor, they explain a situation which certainly has to be taken into account in an impartial review.
As to the charges of lack of initiative and the neglect of their men, the facts gathered from an investigation of conditions among thousands of soldiers, both in America and France, would rather indicate that colored officers generally took more interest in their men than the average white officer, though of course some Negro officers were inefficient just as were some of other races. The charges of “neglecting the welfare of their men” were based in most cases upon the difficulty in securing supplies for colored troops. This was true not only with colored officers, for it was an accepted fact that white officers over Negro troops often experienced the greatest difficulty in getting the necessary supplies for their men. Negro officers who displayed initiative were frequently reprimanded for assuming authority, while on the other hand they were condemned if they waited for instructions; for example, some who completed the course at the First Corps School in France with credit were censured for not performing duties that they had been ordered to discontinue and were told to mind their business when they called attention to grave military errors, some of which resulted in casualties. Duties performed satisfactorily as a sergeant for more than ten years could not be performed by the same man after he became a lieutenant without the supervision of a battalion commander.
In general the colored officers found complete co-operation with commanding officers nearly impossible. They were never taken into the confidence of their military superiors and were rarely ever questioned about matters affecting the men. One day a colonel met a colored captain whom he thought he had seen before. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere?” he asked. “Yes, sir,” replied the man, “I was with you on the border; Captain French is my name, sir.” “Oh, I do remember,” said the colonel, “you are Sergeant French.” “No, sir, I am Captain French.” “Well,” said the colonel as he walked away, “if I forget and call you Sergeant, don’t mind.”
In spite of all the difficulties and criticisms, however, large numbers of Negro officers were able to command and lead troops for the first time. In the pages to come there will be noted many instances not only of courage but also of efficiency, and it is a significant fact that the majority of these officers returned to the states in the 92nd Division. This alone is proof that they were fairly efficient, especially when it is remembered that on the slightest occasion they were sent before efficiency boards. More than a thousand of these Negro line officers “saw it through” in France, rendering heroic service in the World War; and it is pleasant to record that among those who served with them there were those who were not afraid to give credit where credit was due.
One other matter is of importance in this general connection, and that is the question of the relation of the Negro officer to the reorganization of the army after the war was over. There are and probably always will be divers opinions as to the size and training of the regular army in peace times, as well as to the composition of the different units. In general, regular army officers felt that the time had not come in army affairs when it was expedient to include Negro officers in the plan of reorganization. Such a course was considered “an injustice to West Point graduates who had served as second lieutenants and waited their turn for promotion.” The question was essentially not one of fitness but of tradition, as was shown by the word of a major who now sleeps in the Argonne and who was asked to send in the names of the men in his command who should go before an efficiency board. He commended highly the work of his officers, but concluded by saying that the whole principle of Negro officers was wrong and that he recommended that all should be relieved from duty. Such an attitude took tangible form in the action of members of some of the examining boards for the regular army. One board discharged more than half of the officers in the division it was considering. Many who formerly had good grades were rated below 60, and while the questions asked were simple enough, all answers were deemed unsatisfactory. In the medical department similar conditions prevailed. It was natural that the Negro men should feel that under the circumstances they had hardly been fairly dealt with; moreover they had to meet the general prejudice of regular army officers against all civilian officers. One official said, “The regular army officers looked with disfavor upon both the National Guard and National Army officers, the National Guard officers discredited the National Army (90-day) officer, and all three combined against the Negro officer.” When everything is considered, it is difficult to reconcile the methods used to eliminate Negro officers with the spirit of fairness and justice for which the army is renowned, or with the gentleman’s agreement known to exist among fellow-officers, and it is to be regretted that some of the adverse opinions expressed were uttered by men in high positions who will help to determine the future policy of the War Department.
CHAPTER IV
HOPES AND FEARS
Propaganda was recognized by all the belligerent nations as a mighty weapon when effectively used. That great things could be accomplished by its use was demonstrated when a part of the Russian army surrendered to the enemy without bloodshed, when the Russian people rose up against their rulers, and when the German sailors turned against their commanders. In spite of some suggestions made to him, however, the Negro in the United States chose the better part, pledging his loyalty and support to the Government as far as necessary.
When the selective draft was voted by Congress, there arose cries against the sending of Negroes to certain sections, and petitions and delegations went to Washington to prevail with the officials. It was feared that race friction would lead to riots, and especially that there would be difficulty between the Negro soldiers and the civilian population. The Houston riot, occurring in 1917 just before Negro men were called to the camps, intensified this feeling and caused many cantonment cities to raise objections to the placing of Negro soldiers in the camps near them. In South Carolina especially there was strong protest on the part of prominent citizens, led by the Governor of the State; and even one of the Negro churches, on the arrival of Negro soldiers at Camp Jackson, discontinued evening services for fear of trouble. Yet, although it was thought that this innovation would bring disaster to the state, from the beginning there was a feeling of comradeship between the white and the Negro soldiers. In a speech before the race conference held in Columbia March 13, 1918, the Governor, who had opposed the coming of the latter, commended them in the highest manner; and the police department gave testimony to the fact that the Negro soldiers had been a credit to themselves and to the uniform they wore. At Camp Shelby, Hattiesburg, Miss., there was also opposition, but here again the conduct of the soldiers allayed all fears. At Rockford, Ill., where the police force was enlarged in anticipation of the coming of the Negro men, and where an addition was built to the jail to accommodate the expected number of offenders, the chief of police afterwards said that “The Negro soldiers made a splendid record—much better than was expected; the enlarged jail was never needed for them.”
The finest atmosphere surrounding Negro soldiers in America was found at Camp Upton, N. Y. No protest was made by New York people about training Negroes at the camp, nor was there any propaganda about race riots or other disasters; and because of this fact the relationship between the different groups was exceptionally good. The officers and also the welfare workers were, with rare exceptions, fair and considerate in their treatment. This example of real Americanism was due to the generous spirit of the New York people and to the high stand and impartial attitude taken by the late Gen. I. Franklin Bell, commander. In settling all questions of racial relationship he insisted that all men be given fair and equal treatment. Not only in this camp, but in every cantonment city, East, West, North, or South, the officials, including judges and chiefs of police, as well as citizens from all walks of life, spoke in the highest terms of the conduct of the Negro soldiers.
In France there arose two forms of subtle and dangerous propaganda with which the Negro had to contend. One was disseminated by the Germans and the other by some of his own comrades in arms. Over the lines the Germans sent their insidious matter, of which the following is a sample:
“To the Colored Soldiers of the U. S. Army,
September, 1918, Vosges Mountains.
“Hello, boys, what are you doing over there? Fighting the Germans? Why? Have they ever done you any harm? Of course, some white folks and the lying English-American papers told you that the Germans ought to be wiped out for the sake of humanity and democracy. What is democracy? Personal freedom, all citizens enjoying the same rights socially and before the law. Do you enjoy the same rights as the white people do in America, the land of freedom and democracy? Or aren’t you rather rated over there as second class citizens? Can you go to a restaurant where white people dine, can you get a seat in a theatre where white people sit, can you get a pullman seat or berth in a railroad car, or can you ride in the South in the same street car with white people? And how about the law? Is lynching and the most horrible cruelties connected therewith a lawful proceeding in a democratic country?
“Now all of this is entirely different in Germany, where they do like colored people, where they do treat them as gentlemen and not as second class citizens. They enjoy exactly the same social privileges as every white man, and quite a number of colored people have mighty fine positions in Berlin and other big German cities.
“Why, then, fight the Germans only for the benefit of the Wall Street robbers to protect the millions they have lent to the English, French, and Italians? You have been made the tool of the egotistic and rapacious rich in England and America, and there is nothing in the whole game for you but broken bones, horrible wounds, broken health or—death. No satisfaction whatever will you get out of this unjust war. You have never seen Germany; so you are fools if you allow people to teach you to hate it. Come over and see for yourself. Let those do the fighting who make profit out of this war; don’t allow them to use you as cannon food. To carry the gun in their defense is not an honor but a shame. Throw it away and come over to the German lines. You will find friends who will help you along.”
Copies of this document fell among the Negro soldiers in the front line trenches. Every effort was made to keep the men from reading it, but many secured copies nevertheless. They said to their officers who went among them to gather up the copies, “We know what they say is true, but don’t worry; we’re not going over.”
The other propaganda with which Negro officers and soldiers had to contend was inaugurated to discredit them in French opinion to the extent that they would not be accorded social recognition or accepted as equals. There was organized effort on the part of the American military authorities to influence French public opinion in this regard. In its issue for May, 1919, the Crisis published a document on “Secret information concerning black American troops,” sent out on August 7, 1918, by the French military mission stationed with the American Army. The object of this document was to give French officers commanding black American troops “an exact idea of the position occupied by Negroes in the United States.” Conclusions were reached as follows: “We must prevent the rise of any pronounced degree of intimacy between French officers and black officers”; “We must not commend too highly the black Americans”; and “Make a point of keeping the native cantonment population from ‘spoiling’ the Negroes.” This document did not represent French but American opinion, and when the French ministry heard of its distribution, copies were collected and burned.
Meanwhile individuals exerted great effort to influence the French population in the treatment of Negro soldiers. At times when Negro troops went to a city which had been occupied by white soldiers, the people stood off and were afraid, partly because they had not seen so many Negroes before, but also because of the statements that had been made. At Bourbonne-les-Bains the people were told that they must remain indoors, carry guns, and not allow Negroes in their homes. Among the statements that the French people themselves afterwards informed the Negroes were made were the following: “Negroes cannot be treated with common civility”; “They are no good”; “They are rapists”; “Americans lynch and burn Negroes to keep them in their places”; and “They are uncivilized and have tails like monkeys.” The spirit which prompted some men to make the statements given here prompted others to use their authority to carry out their ideas. There were “campaigns of ruthlessness,” and many unkind deeds occurred in the effort to perpetuate “American ideals.” Certainly two-thirds of the difficulties experienced by the colored soldiers in France were due to American resentment of the attitude of the French people in receiving them on equal terms, and especially of the kindly disposition of the French women. Much of the denial of privileges to Negro soldiers to visit parts of France was due, directly or indirectly, to the effort to prevent them from associating with the French people. Thousands of men within a few hours of Paris were not able to get more than a twelve-hour pass.
Facts gathered from personal investigation and interviews in France indicate that in spite of propaganda Negro officers and soldiers got along well with the French people. After they were in town a few days the people would cease to fear them and would ask why such strange relationships existed between comrades in arms from the same country. Both officers and men were invited into the homes of the people. French children were treated with the greatest deference by the Negro soldiers, and as a result a real brotherhood was established. The picture that appeared in Life, showing a colored soldier carrying a bundle for an old French woman met along the way, was typical and represented what occurred almost daily in France. Many helped the peasants to harvest their crops or to do any other work in which they were engaged. They always lent a hand whenever it was possible.
During 1918 reports were current in France, especially in American circles, including the army and welfare organizations, that the committing of the crime of rape was very common and that Negro officers as well as privates were guilty. On August 21 a memorandum was issued from the headquarters of the 92nd Division “to prevent the presence of colored troops from being a menace to women.” This said in part: “On account of the increasing frequency of the crime of rape, or attempted rape, in this Division, drastic preventive measures have become necessary.... Until further notice, there will be a check of all troops of the 92nd Division every hour daily between reveille and 11.00 p. m., with a written record showing how each check was made, by whom, and the result.... The one-mile limit regulation will be strictly enforced at all times, and no passes will be issued except to men of known reliability.” The next day another memorandum was sent out saying that the commander-in-chief of the American Expeditionary Forces “would send the 92nd Division back to the United States or break it up into labor battalions as unfit to bear arms in France, if efforts to prevent rape were not taken more seriously.” The next day the order for the hourly check of personnel was annulled, but in the meantime much discussion had been occasioned.
As the rumors continued to spread, Dr. Robert R. Moton was asked by the President of the United States and the Secretary of War to go to France and investigate the charges. On reaching France he went immediately to General Headquarters at Chaumont and from there to the Marbache sector, where he met General Martin, who was in command of the 92nd Division. On making inquiry Dr. Moton was informed by the General that twenty-six cases of the crime had occurred in the Division up to December 16, 1918, and staff officers who were present substantiated by conversation the general statements. Dr. Moton then asked the General if he would mind having one of his aides get the records inasmuch as the reputation of a race was at stake and as general statements were often misleading. When the records were brought in and examined only seven cases charged could be found. Of those charged only two men had been found guilty and convicted, and one of the two convictions had been turned down by general headquarters. “In other fighting units,” says Dr. Moton, “as well as in Bordeaux, St. Nazaire, and Brest, where many of the service of supplies troops were located, and at many other places, I made the same investigations. I interviewed American and French commanding officers. I talked as well with scores of American and French officers of lower rank. When the records were taken, as was the case with the 92nd Division, the number of cases charged were few. The opinion at general headquarters of the American forces was that the crime to which I have referred was no more prevalent among Negro soldiers than among white soldiers or any soldiers.”
The following record of rape in the 92nd Division was given to the writer by Major A. E. Patterson, judge advocate: “Ten soldiers were tried for assault with intent to rape. Five of those were bona fide efforts to accomplish that crime. The other five were simple assaults with no evidence to support the charge of assault with intent to commit rape. Three of the cases were actual rape cases, only one of which was in the 92nd Division. The other two were in units commanded by white officers. The other two men convicted, one of whom was hanged, were in labor battalions in the 92nd Division area, neither of the three cases of rape occurring in units commanded by colored officers.” The judge advocate in the headquarters of the service of supplies at Tours said that “since February, 1919, there had been only one assault with intent to commit rape in sections 4, 6, 7, and 9, where there were more than 75,000 Negro soldiers. The rape stories seem not to be substantiated.” In American camps there were two cases of the crime, one at Camp Dodge and one at Camp Grant.
The rape charges against Negro soldiers appear to have been greatly magnified. They were simply a part of the general propaganda to discredit Negro men in arms. It is not our intention to give the impression that there were not a few individuals who were guilty of the crime. It is a fact, however, that the wild rumors were simply one more effort to influence the French people in their dealings with Negro Americans.
CHAPTER V
THE LURE OF THE UNIFORM
Historians tell us that when, in the fifteenth century, Jeanne d’Arc led the soldiers of France to victory, no women followed the army. This was not true of the victorious armies in the World War. Wherever the soldiers camped, in the North, East, South, or West, in a camp near a great metropolis or in one far from cities and railroads, in America or in France, there women were to be found. For the first time also the War Department made formal provision for the American soldiers to have the gentle and civilizing influence of women; and barracks and tented camps were soon followed by hostess houses or other structures, tastefully furnished and decorated, and presided over by kind-hearted hostesses.
When this great plan was conceived, little thought was given at first to the Negro soldier and to the entertainment of his women folk. For some time, if they visited camp, they found that no provision was made to receive them. Sometimes it was a mother who had traveled miles just to see if Uncle Sam was kind to her only son, or a wife from a distant state, who arrived discouraged and with depleted funds, only to find that her husband had just embarked for a distant land; or perhaps a sweetheart hoped to get a last glance and bid a last farewell.
There was still another woman who had no such innocent mission and whose heart went out to every soldier. It was this one who made a real problem. Little interest was shown in her by camp authorities. Sometimes she remained in camp streets until as late as eleven o’clock at night; or she might be seen under the trees, in the groves, or waiting along the camp roads. At Camp Dodge women were allowed in camp from early morning until late in the evening, with no restrictions whatever. Some were the wives of soldiers, but some others came to the camp for the purpose of forming acquaintances. Occasionally a girl was seen giving her address to a crowd of soldiers surrounding her. At Camp Hancock, Augusta, Ga., a quarantine stopped the daily visiting of women, who were required to register in the “Y” tent, which they soon practically deserted. In general the commander of a camp made such regulations as he thought best. On rare occasions women were compelled to secure passes before entering; but in most cases they could enter during the day without passes, being governed only by visiting hours, which were usually from 8 a. m. to 5 p. m.
As the war progressed, the tendency throughout the country was to improve conditions in this connection. Even before the spring and summer of 1918, when some hostess houses were erected for colored soldiers, there were bright spots where an effort was made to meet the problem. One of the best systems regulating the visiting of women found anywhere was at Camp Funston, where a visitors’ day was held the first Saturday of each month. This rule was strictly enforced and not even officers could take women into the camp except on this day. On this occasion, however, the officers and soldiers became the hosts, entertaining their friends at dinner, after which there were usually socials and dances. Large numbers of colored women visited Camp Taylor, Louisville, Ky., and their conduct is said to have been excellent. The Y. W. C. A. had the use of a small building, conveniently located on the car track, and here the women were helped to get in touch with relatives. Where the number of women who visited a camp was small, the problem of providing facilities was naturally less difficult. At Camp Devens, Mass., near which the colored population was small, women visited the “Y” buildings and also the houses in charge of white hostesses, if they so desired. The soldiers were permitted to invite them to dinner in their mess halls. All were expected to leave the camp by 7.30, and the military police saw that this rule was enforced. In general where there was a sincere effort on the part of the authorities and the different agencies to provide for the welfare of colored women visitors, the problem was reduced to a minimum, and the visits contributed to the happiness of the soldiers and the morale of the army, as was the intention from the beginning.
The problem which grew to be vexing in the camps became far more difficult to control in the cities; and Government officials familiar with the popularity of the uniform proceeded immediately to clean up every city adjacent to the cantonments by abolishing all forms of legalized vice. Cities thus located were able, with Federal aid, to introduce in one week reforms that had been desired and worked for, with no results, for decades. The closing of the districts, however, did not mean the complete elimination of the evils which existed. It often meant simply a distributing of the problem to various sections of the city. New restaurants, hotels, and boarding houses were opened, and there were usually to be found in them attractive girls who served as waitresses. Although the café sign was sometimes seen on the windows, “no meals were ever served nor fire ever seen in the kitchen.” It was through such places as these that well-intentioned women and girls sometimes found themselves in the clutches of the law.
It was in one of the large cantonment cities that a party of four such women arrived from the far South to see their husbands before they entrained for parts unknown. The women were not met at the station by their husbands, as was planned, because they were several hours late in arriving. They were directed to a hotel just two blocks from the station, and here they found the parlor and dining room filled with soldiers and their friends. Among the men in uniform they felt more at ease, and they asked several soldiers if they knew their husbands. Finally a young man said that he was in the same company as one of the men named, and that he would tell him about his wife as soon as he reached camp, as it was not possible to reach him that night. Tired from travel and anxiety, the women retired with pleasant thoughts of meeting their loved ones in the morning. In the very early morning, however, while the city still slumbered, a knock on the door awoke them. One sprang to the door, but instead of finding her husband she was greeted by an officer, who told all four to dress and follow him. All their tears and explanations did not suffice to move him. With a score of other women they were carried away to prison. As the turnkey closed the great iron door some of the number seemed indifferent, but the hearts of others were seized with fear lest some awful thing should happen. The next morning the husbands of the four women were reached and they were released, made wiser by their bitter experience.
Hotels and boarding houses, however, were only one phase of the matter. On the city streets, in the dance halls, in the soft drink parlors, wherever soldiers craved companionship, there the problem of the girl was to be found. It was most serious in the case of young girls fourteen to sixteen years of age, who were sometimes seen on the streets long after midnight, and it is to be remembered that in the Negro sections of the cities the streets were often dark and conducive to all forms of evil. Sometimes conditions were winked at by officials who opposed destroying the old order of things. In one case, after Government criticism, the local police made indiscriminate arrests in a pretended effort to clean up. This resulted in lawsuits which halted the work. Ignorant girls were brought into court, but those in higher places were seldom arrested. Even when arrests were made, the evidence revealed often brought a quick release. In one court a woman was sentenced to a year in prison and fined $1000 for leading girls astray, but within a few days, through the influence of unseen forces, she was again enjoying her liberty. A strange leniency also was often found in Southern courts in the case of colored girls whose conduct had brought them there; it did not seem to be required or expected that colored girls should live up to the same standards as white girls. Sometimes unsympathetic lawyers made sport of them for the amusement of crowded court rooms. They were not taken behind closed doors for protection, as were other girls charged with similar offences. Seldom, until near the end of the war, were there detention homes to which they could go and find a genuinely helpful guiding hand. Money appropriated by the Government for the establishment of detention homes in cantonment cities was seldom used for Negro girls. Instead they were usually placed in jail, or sent to the prison farm or the “stockade,” the home of the chain gang. The jails in which they were confined were, with few exceptions, demoralizing and a disgrace to the cities. The inmates lived in dirt and disease, sleeping on ragged, greasy mattresses on concrete floors and eating food prepared in the most unsanitary manner. In one instance colored girls were placed in a room 20 feet by 10, with their cots close together. An open toilet was in the back of the room, which was without windows or any means of ventilation except an electric fan. In such environment were placed many girls arrested for the first time. They associated with confirmed criminals and the living conditions and the treatment which they received made it well nigh impossible for them to lead a different life after being released. Sometimes they worked on the city farms, in the jails, or on rock piles in the jail yards. In one case they were marched through the streets to and from the work of cleaning the city cemetery.
Who were these girls who, in their early teens, found themselves in the clutches of the law? For the most part they were ignorant and were growing up without the influence of interested parents. Some could not read or write; frequently they were exploited. It is to be noted also that this concrete problem was often complicated by other social or economic forces. In practically every cantonment city orders were issued to prevent white soldiers from entering undesirable Negro sections. The enforcement of such orders, however, was difficult because of the frequent leniency of the guardians of the law. In one city a prominent member of the Chamber of Commerce said, “The colored people will probably never get over the effect of the moral lapse due to the presence of the camp and the soldiers.” He grew eloquent in describing the depths to which the city had fallen and the difficulty of getting servants. Those who had formerly helped in some of the old families were now leading an easier life and wearing on the streets clothes of the most expensive style. Such a speaker apparently forgot that the exodus had made great drafts on labor, that many women were doing work formerly done by men, and that the increased wages had enabled many men to keep their wives at home.
Even when the moral situation was dark, however, all was not hopeless. Sometimes a wise and big-hearted judge gave justice tempered with mercy. Sometimes women, both colored and white, toiled untiringly in their effort to save girls from the folly of their ways. The attitude of the Negro people themselves was most important. Among them there was often found a strange lack of sympathy and interest. This was sometimes attributed to the attitude of officials who would not deal with them in a respectful manner. While this was often the case, there was also a feeling on the part of many good people that they could not afford to help such girls. One churchman who was asked for his co-operation said, “I don’t know whether I can afford to come to the jail,” and another, “My mind is on heavenly things; I haven’t any time for such work.” Gradually the situation improved, however, and we shall now consider some of the forces for moral betterment. One of these, the War Camp Community Service, will receive extended treatment in our next chapter in connection with the subject of Welfare Organizations. Just now we are interested especially in the influences that bore directly upon the Negro woman or girl who in one way or another was affected by the war.