Meantime, Mrs. Hunton had been sent to the St. Nazaire area, and it is there that our story of canteen service really begins, because whatever of success came to the colored women in France, was due primarily to the record made by them in this area.
The St. Nazaire area, in the region of the Loire, was more than any other the pioneer section for colored work. There went Franklin O. Nichols, the very first colored welfare worker to reach France, and there he constructed the first Y hut for colored men in France. Soon, he was joined by the Rev. Leroy Ferguson, Mr. John C. Wright and Mr. William Stevenson, each of whom had direction of a Y hut in the area. In due time several secretaries arrived to help these first men.
When Mrs. Hunton reached Saint Nazaire, she was immediately assigned to Y hut 5, Camp One, for canteen service under the direction of Mr. John C. Wright, and to visit other camps of the area. Miss Kathryn Johnson came next and was placed at Camp Lusitania with the Rev. Leroy Ferguson. Then came Mrs. Curtis, who joined Mr. Stevenson at Camp Montoir. It was thus that the first three canteen workers were placed for all the period of the war and many weeks thereafter.
The St. Nazaire area, more than any other in all France at that time, warmly welcomed and gave opportunity to the colored Y secretaries to demonstrate their spirit and ability to serve their own soldiers. Indeed, it seemed rather providentially planned to give colored women a first real chance. There were two reasons for this opportunity given them. First of all the broad, practical Christian spirit of the Divisional Secretary, Mr. W. S. Wallace, and second the attitude of our own Y men in charge of the huts. Mr. Wallace was not only an executive of rare Christian courage, but his attitude and opinions commanded the respect of those under his supervision. He dealt with the colored men and women of his area in the same fine manner and spirit that he dealt with all others. We shall always remember him among those fine spirits of his race that hold our faith for the ultimate triumph of the brotherhood of man.
The second contributing cause for whatever of success the women came to have was in the personnel of the men with whom they worked. For, however fine might be the Divisional Secretary or no matter how far-visioned and energetic the woman herself might be, she could hardly render efficient service unless she had the sympathetic co-operation of her hut secretary.
The writer was most fortunate in doing her first work with Mr. John C. Wright. It was a rare privilege that gave us four months of most enthusiastic service under the direction of this Christian gentleman. He was one of the few men who really desired a woman in his hut, so that in our first four months of service we were able to plan and accomplish something really constructive for the seven thousand permanent colored troops of our camp, and to help the regiments that spent a few weeks with us as they prepared for the front. With him we tried to study and comprehend the needs and desires of the soldiers, “our boys,” as we usually called them, and to meet these needs and desires in the very best way possible.
SOLDIERS IN FRANCE
Over the canteen in France was essentially different from the same thing in the United States where friendships and home ties had not yet been really severed and war was still thousands of miles from the camp. In France, war, with its mystery of pain and suffering, was over all. Everywhere were evidence of its mutilation and destruction of life and home. Everywhere there was exhausting work and deep loneliness. In the most joyous hour in the Y hut we knew that there was a nervousness, a tenseness, a deep undercurrent of seriousness that could be found only in an environment of death and desolation.
Over the canteen in France friendships and confidences ripened quickly because of the loneliness of men—because of the haunting and yearning memories of their women-folk at home. A glass of lemonade or a cup of chocolate offered with a sympathetic touch was usually sufficient to break down all barriers and make way for the usual question, “Where are you from”? This answered, a like question asked and the acquaintance was established. Always there was real happiness if one could from somewhere in the memory resurrect a mutual friend in one of these home towns. Then came quickly talks of family and life in the States. We learned to anticipate that from some pocket in the jacket—usually the one nearest the heart—would be drawn forth a wallet or a much worn envelope. From it photographs would come forth. Sometimes it would be the “best mother,” again the “dearest wife,” and still again the “finest girl” or “cutest kid” that a fellow ever had. The families or the girls would become visualized for us, and after that we would ask about them as if they were old friends.