Two Colored women with the American Expeditionary Forces

by Addie W. Hunton; Kathryn M. Johnson

THE relationship between the colored soldiers, the colored welfare workers, and the French people was most cordial and friendly and grew in sympathy and understanding, as their association brought about a closer acquaintance. It was rather an unusual as well as a most welcome experience to be able to go into places of public accommodation without having any hesitations or misgivings; to be at liberty to take a seat in a common carrier, without fear of inviting some humiliating experience; to go into a home and receive a greeting that carried with it a hospitality and kindliness of spirit that could not be questioned.

These things were at once noticeable upon the arrival of a stranger within the gates of this sister democracy, and the first ten days in France, though filled with duties and harassed with visits from German bombing planes, were nevertheless a delight, in that they furnished to some of us the first full breath of freedom that had ever come into our limited experience.

The first post of duty assigned to us was Brest. Upon arriving there we received our first experience with American prejudices, which had not only been carried across the seas, but had become a part of such an intricate propaganda, that the relationship between the colored soldier and the French people is more or less a story colored by a continued and subtle effort to inject this same prejudice into the heart of the hitherto unprejudiced Frenchman.

We had gone to this city under protest, because we felt that since there were only three colored women in France among approximately 150,000 colored soldiers, that our first duty should be to the men at the front, who were without doubt suffering the greatest hardships. But we were told that in this city there was a great need, and that we had better serve out a probation here, before being sent to the more arduous tasks at the front.

Imagine our surprise, then, at being told immediately upon our arrival, that there was no need for colored women in that section; that the colored men were too rough; that they were almost afraid to locate a man among them, to say nothing of a woman. We were permitted to tarry, however, a few days, during which time we discovered a colored Chaplain, the Rev. L. C. Jenkins, of South Carolina, who immediately made us welcome, and arranged for us to talk to his men. They were much grieved when they were frankly told of the reputation that had been given them, and assured us of every consideration and courtesy if we were permitted to remain among them. Every effort was put forth to get the office to change its decision concerning us, but to no avail. In due time, we made our return trip to Paris.

In talking with the soldiers, however, and ultimately with the French people, we were told that the story of the roughness of the colored men was being told to the civilians in order that all possible association between them might be avoided. They had been systematically informed that their dark-skinned allies were not only unworthy of any courtesies from their homes, but that they were so brutal and vicious as to be absolutely dangerous. They were even told that they belonged to a semi-human species who only a few years ago had been caught in the American forests, and only been tamed enough to work under the white American’s direction.

Another ten days in Paris was filled with more duties, and more opportunity for contact with the French people. We met again the first colored woman to arrive in France, and at her suggestion and guidance, went to a small hotel in the rue d’Antin, where very few Americans were located. Here the proprietor and all his assistants were smiling and courteous, ever ready to make one comfortable, and to give all necessary information and many helpful suggestions.

At this time we were assigned to the 92nd Division, in the Haute Marne region, but the great July Offensive started, making it impossible for us to get through the lines, so we were told, and we were finally assigned to St. Nazaire. Here we were very happy to have the opportunity to go where we could have the association of our co-worker, who had gone there as the pioneer colored woman for that section.

Here, as elsewhere, the French people had been informed as to the shortcomings of the colored Americans, and among other things had been told that they were incapable of becoming officers, and leading their own people. In October, 1918, thirty-three colored Lieutenants of Artillery landed at this port. Upon meeting them on the street, the writer informed them of this false impression, and requested them to show themselves in the business and residence sections of the city. In one shop the proprietor immediately turned to a white officer, and remarked that these men wore the identical insignia that he had seen on many other officers, and that he would thank some one for an explanation. When these same men entered the French Artillery School, near Vannes, they were forbidden to attend entertainments where it was thought they would in all probability meet the French people.

Literature was gotten out through the French Military Mission and sent to French villages explaining how Americans desired the colored officers to be treated; that they desired them to receive no more attention than was required in the performance of their military duties; that to show them social courtesies not only would be dangerous, but that it would be an insult to the American people. The literature was finally collected and ordered destroyed by the French Ministry.[4]