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.