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.