Even a short outing might be robbed of its pleasure. For how well we remember a company that had been granted a week-end leave as a reward for exceptional work. They were going to a neighboring summer resort—a miniature Coney Island. It had been arranged for them to tent on the beach. Just like children, they made us listen to all their enthusiastic plans and dreams of this outing. They went, but came back dumb in the despair of outraged truth and justice. A runner had preceded them, and the French restaurants and places of amusement had been warned not to receive them, since they were but servants of the white soldiers. Later the French knew better, but at that time it required more time and spirit than this company had, to convince the French people of the injustice of it all.
Always there was the knowledge that for them, loyalty, devotion, and energy, led to no higher rank, no possibility of promotion. True, orders were often issued that for the moment, seemed to include the colored soldier in their opportunity for advancement, but just as soon as he attempted to make himself a part of these orders, some subterfuge would be used to deny him the privilege of the army of which he was a part. Well for the colored soldier in France, well for all, that he possessed the far-visioned faith and the endurance of his fathers!
Another misleading idea relative to the non-combatant organizations was to the effect that they were totally illiterate. While the percentage of illiteracy was high, on the other hand hundreds of men were of fair intelligence, while other hundreds had been given fine educational advantages. Not only could there be found large numbers of students and graduates of our colored schools, but there were many from the largest and best known universities and colleges of the United States. It was not unusual to have a man in fatigue uniform, as his working clothes were called, volunteer for some needed educational work, modestly announcing himself a graduate of Dartmouth, Iowa, Yale, or some other large university or college. Two of the best-trained physical directors of our race were discovered over there doing their “bit”—one as a stevedore on the dock, the other busily cutting wood with an isolated labor battalion. For every variety of profession or trade there was a representative. One had but to require the service of a stenographer, dentist, doctor, lawyer, electrician, plumber, draughtsman, pianist, illustrator, or what not, to find him at hand. Once in the palmy days of Camp One, St. Nazaire, an educational exhibit was held in the Y Hut and it was far more interesting, varied, and unique, than any one school could have possibly produced.
Labor battalions were to be found not only at the ports of France, but more than any other class of soldiers, they were spread over all France. Whether near the Belgian or Swiss border, or in “No Man’s Land,” one would be sure to find these indispensable troops. Oftener than otherwise these battalions would be split, and a company or two would be at Verdun or some other important center, while another company would be found in some woods cutting trees. The 608th Labor Battalion was the only organization regularly stationed at St. Nazaire, that had its own colored Sergeant-Major. So clean cut, intelligent and forceful was Sergeant Major Thomas, that he might have been a Major quite as well. His men were much like their leader, and we found it not only a pleasure but comfort to count them among “our boys.”
At Romagne we worked side by side with the 332nd and 349th Labor Battalions. There with the Pioneer Infantries, they were grimly fighting through to the end. To the Leave Area came these men of the labor units in large numbers, and we have many pictures of them and with them. We have, better still, recollections of their faces, earnest and often sad—their eyes aglow as they related the story of their adventure in France. Always they had suffered but always they knew
“That Freedom’s battle once begun
Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son
Though baffled oft—is ever won.”
Hundreds of men among these non-combatant troops were so thoroughly fine that to mention a few of them in a special way seems hardly worth while, except as they represent types. We think of Charles Wright from Ann Arbor, Michigan, who not only performed his office work with thoroughness, but who, through all the long months, first at St. Nazaire, and later at Camp Montoir, gave himself with deep earnestness as a volunteer teacher for his less fortunate mates. Many others gave help in much the same manner for the educational, religious, and athletic activities, or for library or canteen service. There were Charles Wilkinson of the Medical Corps, Sergeants Farrell, Dunn, Jones, Ward, Armstrong and Tapscott, Corporal Henry Smith, Electrician Powell, all so faithful as to seem a part of the regular staff of Y workers.
There was one special group within this group for whom we had great sympathy and deep respect. They were the regular army men, who had seen real fighting, who were still in their prime, and longing for the opportunity to go “over the top.” There were men who had seen service in Russia, the Philippines, Hawaii, heroes of the Spanish American War; men who had known the hideousness of Carrizal, all kept in the S. O. S. But they were soldiers and they knew how to hold their peace and obey. One had to but look at men like Sergeants Blue, Banks, Clark and Dogan, to know that even without the bars on shoulders, they were finer soldiers than many who wore them.