ACROSS DIVIDING SEAS.


BLACK THOUSANDS ASSEMBLE—SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY—SEVERING HOME TIES—MAN'S WORK MUST BE DONE—FIRST NEGROES IN FRANCE—MEETING WITH FRENCH COLONIALS—EARLY HISTORY OF 15TH NEW YORK—THEY SAIL AWAY—BECOME FRENCH FIGHTING MEN—HOLD 20% OF AMERICAN LINES—TERROR TO GERMANS—ONLY BARRIER BETWEEN BOCHE AND PARIS—IMPERISHABLE RECORD OF NEW YORKERS—TURNING POINT OF WAR.

"Doan you see the black clouds ris'n ober yondah
Like as tho we's gwan ter hab a storm?
No, you's mistaken, dem's "Loyal BLACK FOLKS
Sailing off ter fight fer Uncle Sam."
From the plantations of the South, from the mines, the workshops and factories; from the levees of the Mississippi, the cities, villages, farms of the North, the East, the South, the West; from the store, the counting house, the office and the institution of learning they came—the black thousands to strike for their altars and their homes; to fight for Uncle Sam. How splendid was the spectacle of their response! "Their's not to ask the WHY; their's but to do and die."


Bearing the burden placed upon them by white men as they have for centuries, nevertheless, in this supreme moment of their country's life; "a day that shall live in story"; many of them did not know what it all was about; where Germany was located, nor the significance attaching to the word Hun. In a vague way they understood that across the sea an armed and powerful nation was threatening the happiness of mankind; the freedom of the world.


In the presence of this contemplated crime, they were wide-eyed, open-souled, awake! Their sires had known bondage, and they, their children, had felt and knew the effects of it. America which for centuries had oppressed their forefathers had finally through the arbitrament of war, freed them. White men and black men; in the dark days of '61-'65, numbering many thousands, had lain down their lives to save the Union, and in doing so had brought them freedom.


They had been told that America was threatened; that was enough. It was to them a summons; sharp, quick, incisive to duty. It was, although one hundred and forty years after, the voice of Washington at Valley Forge; the call of Perry to their fathers, needing soldiers at the battle of Lake Erie; of Jackson at New Orleans. It was to their listening ears the echo of Bull Run, of Santiago, of Manila, and later of Carrizal; Uncle Sam needed them! That was enough; what more was to be said?


Denied the opportunity to enlist, the Negro's patriotic, patient soul asserted itself; if he must go as a drafted soldier, it would be in the same fine spirit that would have inspired him as a loyal enlisted man.


Life, as to all men, was sweet to them. They had mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers, wives and sweethearts; the ties of association; of home, from all of which they would be separated and for all of which they cherished that love, which alone of human fires: "Burns and burns, forever the same, for nature feeds the pyre."


Above and over all these things, tending to augment the seriousness of the sacrifice he was to be called upon to make, was the spirit, the optimism, the joy of life that attends vigorous youth and young manhood.


Nature in all of its enticing charm and beauty, was smiling in the home places these men were leaving; flowers bloomed; birds sang; insects buzzed cheerily. There were green fields and babbling brooks; the stately beauty of trees, and the delights of lake, river and vale. The cities from which they came, were many of them, splendid monuments of the work of man. The sun clothed in glory the days, moon and stars gave a loveliness to the nights. Leaving these things to face suffering and hardship; possible death in strange lands, caused many a pang; but a man's work had to be done, and they were there to do it.


Well they knew there would be no chance in France to follow the wild bee to its tree; to track the fox or hunt the 'possum or the coon. The hum they would hear would be that of machine gun bullets; their sting, death or serious wounding. For game they would hunt the Hun; would kill or be by him killed.


There were busy times in thousands of homes when the young Negroes of the land; from East, West, North and South went forth to war.


Bright faces hiding the pangs of parting; happy, singing lads left their homes to enter a new life on earth or, the tragedy of it; also the glory; a new life in the great Beyond; beyond the stars and flaming suns. The training camp was their first destination and was to be their home for months.


Correspondents in France wrote of Negro soldiers being among the first expeditionary force to set foot upon the soil of the battle torn Republic. This force arrived there in June, 1917, and was composed of marines and infantry from the Regular army. Floyd Gibbons, the intrepid representative of the Chicago Tribune, speaking of the first Negro contingents in his remarkable book entitled, "And They Thought We Wouldn't Fight", said:
"There was to be seen on the streets of St. Nazaire that day some representative black Americans, who had also landed in that historical first contingent. There was a strange thing about these Negroes. It will be remembered that in the early stages of our participation in the war it had been found that there was hardly sufficient khaki cloth to provide uniforms for all of our soldiers. That had been the case with these American negro soldiers.

"But somewhere down in Washington, somehow or other, someone resurrected an old, large heavy iron key and this, inserted into an ancient rusty lock, had opened some long forgotten door in one of the Government arsenals. There were revealed old dust-covered bundles wrapped up in newspapers, yellow with age, and when these wrappings of the past were removed, there were seen the uniforms of old Union blue that had been laid away back in '65—uniforms that had been worn by men who fought and bled and died to save the Union, and ultimately free those early 'Black Americans'.

"And here on this foreign shore, on this day in June more than half a century later, the sons and grandsons of those same freed slaves wore those same uniforms of Union blue as they landed in France to fight for a newer freedom; freedom for the white man no less than themselves, throughout all the earth.

"Some of these Negroes were stevedores from the lower Mississippi levees; who sang as they worked in their white army undershirts, across the chest of which were penciled in blue and red, strange mystic devices, religious phrases and other signs, calculated to contribute the charm of safety to the running of the submarine blockade.

"Two of these American Negroes, walking up the main street of St. Nazaire, saw on the other side of the thoroughfare a brother of color wearing the lighter blue uniform of a French soldier. This French Negro was a colonial black from the north of Africa and of course had spoken nothing but French from the day he was born. One of the American Negroes crossed the street and accosted him.

"'Looka here, boy', he inquired good-naturedly, 'what can you all tell me about this here wah?'

"'Comment, monsieur?' responded the non-understanding French black, and followed the rejoinder with a torrent of excited French.

"The American Negro's mouth fell open. For a minute he looked startled, and then he bulged one large round eye suspiciously at the French black while he inwardly debated on the possibility that he had become color-blind. Having reassured himself, however, that his vision was not at fault, he made a sudden decision and started on a new tack.

"'Now, never mind that high-faluting language' he said, 'you all just tell me what you know about this here wah and quit you' putting on aihs.'

"The puzzled French Negro could only reply with another explosion of French interrogations, coupled with vigorous gesticulations. The American Negro tried to talk at the same time and both of them endeavoring to make the other understand, increased the volumes of their tones until they were standing there waving their arms and shouting into one another's faces. The American gave it up.

"'My Gawd', he said shaking his head as he recrossed the street and joined his comrades, 'this is sure some funny country. They got the ignorantest colored people here I ever saw.'"
It has been noted that the first Negro combatant regiment to reach France was the celebrated National Guard organization known as the 15th New York Infantry, rechristened the 369th when made a part of the 93rd division of the United States army. This was such a well drilled and equipped regiment that early in the war it was permitted to go across with the first 100,000; all of which was due to the aggressiveness and insistence of its white commander, Colonel William Hayward. He simply gave the war department no rest, stating that he was willing his men should unload ships, fell trees and build docks or cantonments so long as they were permitted to sail.


The regiment had been organized by Colonel Hayward at the suggestion of Governor Whitman of New York. It was to be patterned after the 8th Illinois where colored men of means sufficient to support commissions, were the officers. The regiment was started in June 1916 and by October had 1,000 in the ranks. Colonel Hayward was the only white officer, the Negro commission-holders at that time being Captain Marshall, Captain Fillmore, Lieutenant Lacey, Lieutenant Reed and Lieutenant Europe. The latter was attached to the Machine Gun section but became later the famous musician of the outfit. He was the only Negro officer who remained with the regiment throughout, the others being superseded or transferred after several months service in France.


Early in 1917, the Federal government said it would recognize the regiment if it could muster fifty-one officers. As recruiting had been slow and a Negro regiment in New York was looked upon as an experiment, Colonel Hayward was obliged to secure the needed officers from among his friends in the 7th New York, the Motor Battery, Squadron A and other organizations. By this time the enlisted strength had grown to 1,200. On April 8, 1917, two days after the United States entered the war, the regiment was inspected by Federal officers and a week later was recognized as a regular unit of the Federal Guard.


But, as the Colonel expressed it, they were a "street urchin of a regiment." They had no armory, no place to drill except in the open and no place where more than a single company at a time could meet. In his post-war observations, the Colonel has noted that when the regiment returned to these shores and was feasted and entertained by the people of New York in the 71st regiment armory, it was the first occasion on which the old 15th was ever assembled under one roof.


After its Federal recognition the regiment was sent to the Peekskill rifle range to learn to shoot, a valuable experience as developed later. Many of the boys became expert marksmen, a skill that became of precious value to them and their comrades. In June, 1917, they went to a war strength of 2,000 men and 56 officers. One battalion did pioneer work at Camp Upton, another at Camp Dix. A third guarded 600 miles of railroads in New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania. The Machine Gun company guarded 2,000 interned spies and pro-German prisoners at Ellis Island. Colonel Hayward has pointed with pride to the fact that in all their territory there was not a wreck, an explosion, an escaped prisoner or any other trouble. Two battalions later went to Spartanburg for training, but remained there only a couple of weeks.
"I wonder what got those colored boys to volunteer" someone asked their colonel as they were embarking for France. He replied: "I have often thought of that. With many the cause was sheer patriotism. Others said they had gone into the 15th for social reasons, to meet with their friends. One—this seemed to me a most pathetic touch—said: 'I j'ined up because when Colonel Hayward asked me it was the first time anyone had ever asked me to j'ine up with anything in my whole lifetime.'"
If any great amount of superstition had existed among the men or officers of the New York regiment, they would have been greatly depressed over the series of incidents that preceded their arrival in France. In the first place they had been assigned to police and pioneer duty at camps near New York, a duty which no fighting man relishes. They embarked on the transport Pocahontas November 12, 1917. Two hundred miles at sea a piston rod was bent and the vessel put back to port. They got away again December 3, were out a day and had to return on account of fire in the coal bunkers. A third attempt on December 12, in a blizzard, was frustrated by a collision with a tanker in New York harbor.


After this series of bad starts, anyone inclined to indulge in forebodings would have predicted the certainty of their becoming prey for the submarines on the way over. But the fourth attempt proved successful and they landed in France on December 27, 1917. They had hoped to celebrate Christmas day on French soil, but were forced by the elements and the precautions of convoys and sailing master to observe the anniversary on board the ship.


The Colonel undoubtedly thought that those first in France would be the first to get a chance at the Boche, but the department took him at his word, and for over two months his men were kept busy in the vicinity of St. Nazaire, largely as laborers and builders. Early in 1918 they went into training quarters near St. Nazaire. The 371st, another Negro regiment, made up of draft selectives principally from South Carolina, was later given quarters nearby.


The black soldiers of the 369th were brigaded as a part of the 16th division of the 8th Corps of the 4th French Army. From St. Nazaire they went to Givrey-En-Argonne, and there in three weeks the French turned them into a regulation French regiment. They had Lebel rifles, French packs and French gas masks. For 191 days they were in the trenches or on the field of battle. In April, 1918, the regiment held 20 percent of all the territory held by American troops, though it comprised less than one percent of all the American soldiers in France.


Officers of the 369th reported for an entire year only six cases of drunkenness, and twenty-four of serious disease. The regiment fought in the Champagne, in the Vosges mountains, on the Aisne, at Main de Massiges, Butte de Mesnil, Dormouse, Sechault, the Argonne, Ripont, Kuppinase, Tourbe, and Bellevue Ridge. It was the first unit of any of the Allied armies to reach the left bank of the Rhine following the signing of the armistice, moving from Thann on November 17th and reaching Blodesheim the next day.


Negro soldiers were a source of terror to the Germany throughout the war, and objects of great curiosity to the German people afterwards. Wherever they appeared in the area occupied by the Americans they attracted great attention among the civilians. In Treves, Coblenz and other places during the early days of the occupation, crowds assembled whenever Negro soldiers stopped in the streets and it became necessary for the military police to enforce the orders prohibiting gatherings in the public thoroughfares.


Returning soldiers have told how they were followed in the German towns by great troops of stolid, wide-eyed German children who could not seem to decide in their minds just what sort of being these Negro fighters were. The curiosity of the children no doubt was inspired by stories told among their elders of the ferocity of these men.


The Associated Press has related a conversation with a discharged German soldier in Rengsdorf, in which it is stated that the German army early in the war offered a reward for the capture alive of each Negro. The soldier said that throughout the war the Germans lived in great terror of the Negroes, and it was to overcome this fear that rewards were offered.


One evening on the front a scouting party composed of ten Germans including the discharged soldier, encountered two French Negroes. In the fight which followed two of the scouting party were killed. One of the Negroes escaped the other being taken prisoner. During the fight two of the Germans left their comrades and ran to the protection of their own trenches, but these it was explained, were young soldiers and untrained. The reward of 400 marks subsequently was divided among the remaining six Germans for capturing the one French Negro.


The 93rd division, which was made up of the 369th, 370th, 371st and the 372nd regiments of infantry, was put into service green, so green they did not know the use of rockets and thought a gas alarm and the tooting of sirens meant that the Germans were coming in automobiles. The New York regiment came largely from Brooklyn and the district around West 59th street in New York City, called San Juan Hill in reference to certain notable achievements of Negro troops at a place of that name in the Spanish-American war.


They learned the game of war rapidly. The testimony of their officers was to the effect that it was not hard to send them into danger—the hard part being to keep them from going into it of their own accord. It was necessary to watch them like hawks to keep them from slipping off on independent raiding parties.


The New York regiment had a band of 40 pieces, second to none in the American army. It is stated that the officers and men in authority in the French billeting places had difficulty in keeping the villagers from following the band away when it played plantation airs and syncopations as only Negroes can play them.


On April 12, 1918, the 369th took over a sector of 5-1/2 kilometers in the Bois de Hauzy on the left of a fringe of the Argonne Forest. There they stayed until July 1st. There was no violent fighting in the sector, but many raids back and forth by the Negroes and the Germans, rifle exchanges and occasionally some artillery action.


One important engagement occurred June 12th, which the soldiers called the million dollar raid, because they thought the preparatory barrage of the Germans must have cost all of that. The Germans came over, probably believing they would find the Negro outfit scared stiff. But the Negro lads let them have grenades, accurate rifle fire and a hail from some concealed machine gun nests. Sergt. Bob Collins was later given the Croix de Guerre for his disposition of the machine guns on that occasion.


While holding the sector of Hauzy Wood, the 369th was the only barrier between the German army and Paris. However, had there been an attempt to break through, General Gouraud, the French army commander, would have had strength enough there at once to stop it. About this time everyone in the Allied armies knew that the supreme German effort was about to come. It was felt as a surety that the brunt of the drive would fall upon the 4th French Army, of which the 369th regiment and other portions of the American 93rd Division were a part. This army was holding a line 50 kilometers long, stretching between Rheims and the Argonne Forest. It was the intention of the Germans to capture Chalons and then proceed down the Marne Valley to Paris. It was expected that the big German drive would begin on July 4th, but as it turned out it did not begin until the night of the 14th—the French national holiday.


On July 1st, the 369th had been moved from its sector further toward the east where the center of the attack was expected. Upon the 14th of July the French made a raid for the purpose of getting prisoners and information. This had a tremendous effect upon the whole course of the war, for through it General Gouraud's staff learned that at midnight the Boche artillery preparation was to begin, and at 5:25 o'clock on the morning of the 15th the Germans were coming over the top.


This phase of the operation is described by Col. Hayward as follows:
"This is what Gen. Gouraud—Pa Gouraud we called him—did: He knew the Boche artillery would at the appointed hour start firing on our front lines, believing as was natural, that they would be strongly held. So he withdrew all his forces including the old 15th, to the intermediate positions, which were at a safe distance back of the front lines. Then, at the point where he expected would be the apex of the drive he sent out two patrols, totalling sixteen men.

"These sixteen had certain camouflage to perform. They were to set going a certain type of French machine gun which would fire of its own accord for awhile after being started off. They were to run from one of these guns to the other and start them. Also the sixteen were to send up rockets, giving signals, which the Germans of course knew as well as we. Then again they were to place gas shells—with the gas flowing out of them—in all the dugouts of the first line. Meanwhile the French artillery had registered directly on our own front trenches, so that it could slaughter the Germans when they came across, believing those trenches to be occupied as usual.

"Everything worked out as expected, and as luck had it, most of those gallant sixteen Frenchmen got back safely.

"Five minutes before the Germans started their artillery preparation for the drive Gen. Gouraud started his cannon going and there was a slaughter in the German lines. Then when the German infantry crossed to our front line trenches (now entirely vacant) they were smashed up because the French guns were firing directly upon these positions, which they knew mathematically. And those of the Boche who went down in the dugouts for safety were killed by the gas which the Frenchmen had left there for them.

"This battle—the supreme German drive—raged over eighty-five kilometers (51 miles). West of Rheims the enemy broke through the line, but they did not break through anywhere in Gen. Gouraud's sector. Stonewall Gouraud stopped them. The American units which took in the defense that was so successful were the 42nd Division, including the gallant 69th of New York, who were to the west of us, our own little regiment, and the American Railroad Artillery.

"That was the turning point of the war, because soon thereafter began Marshal Foch's great counter thrust, in which the 1st and 2nd American Divisions participated so wonderfully about Belleau Wood, Chateau-Thierry and that district. Gouraud in my belief, turned the tide of the war, and I am proud that the New York City colored boys had a share of that vital fight.

"Right here I may say that this orphan, urchin regiment of ours placed in the pathway of the Boche in the most significant battle the world has ever known, had only thirty-seven commissioned officers, and four of those wounded, had to be carried in stretchers to their positions in the trenches in order to direct the fighting."
Colonel Hayward was himself in the hospital with a broken leg. Disregarding the orders of the surgeons he went to the front line on crutches and personally directed his men in the fight. In all of his written and quoted utterances since the war, he has refrained from mentioning this fact, but it is embodied in the regimental records.


Shortly after the French national holiday, the 369th was sent about 15 kilometers west to a position in front of the Butte de Mesnil, a high hill near Maison en Champagne, occupied by the Germans. Around that district they held half a dozen sectors at different times with only one week of rest until September 26th.


Artillery duels were constant. It is related that near the Butte de Mesnil the regiment lost a man an hour and an officer a day from the shell fire of the Boche. So accurate were the gunners handling the German 77s that frequently a solitary soldier who exposed himself would actually be "sniped" off by a cannoneer.


In the September fighting the 369th saw the toughest period of its entire service. In company with a Moroccan Negro unit and others, the regiment participated in the attack on the Butte de Mesnil. The New Yorkers took the important town of Sechault and it was for that exploit that their flag was decorated with the Croix de Guerre.


Throughout the western Argonne fighting and the various sectors of the Champagne in which the 369th operated, especially during the months of July, August and September, their service was typical of that of other units of the 93rd Division. The going was tough for all of them and each contributed everlasting fame to American arms and undying renown to the Negro race.


Heroes of the Old 15th Infantry.


Officers and men of the 369th New York colored regiment awarded the Croix de Guerre for gallantry in Action:
Sergt. A.A. Adams
Corp. John Allen
Lieut. R.R. DeArmond
Lieut. G.A. Arnston
Corp. Farrandus Baker
Sergt. E.W. Barrington
Sergt M.W. Barron
Sergt. William D. Bartow
Capt. Aaron T. Bates
Corp. Fletcher Battle
Corp. R. Bean
Corp. J.S. Beckton
Pvt. Myril Billings
Sergt. Ed. Bingham
Lieut. J.C. Bradner
Pvt. Arthur Brokaw
Pvt. H.D. Brown
Pvt. T.W. Brown
Lieut. Elmer C. Bucher
Pvt. Wm. H. Bunn
Sergt. Wm. Butler
Pvt. J.L. Bush
Sergt. Joseph Carmen
Corp. T. Catto
Corp. G.H. Chapman
Sergt. Major Benedict W. Cheesman
Capt. John H. Clarke, Jr.
Lieut. P.M. Clendenin
Capt. Frederick W. Cobb
Sergt. Robert Collins
Lieut. J.H. Connor
Sergt. Wm. H. Cox
Sergt C.D. Davis
Lieut. Charles Dean
Pvt. P. Demps
Wagoner Martin Dunbar
Corp. Elmer Earl
Pvt. Frank Ellis
Sergt. Sam Fannell
Capt. Robt. F. Ferguson, Jr.
Capt. Charles W. Fillmore
Capt. Edward J. Farrell
Capt. Hamilton Fish, Jr.
Capt Edwin R.D. Fox
Lieut. Conrad Fox
Sergt. Richard W. Fowler
Pvt. Roland Francis
Pvt. B. Freeman
Pvt. I. Freeman
Sergt Wm. A. Gains
Wagoner Richard O. Goins
Pvt. J.J. Gordon
Lieut. R.C. Grams
Pvt. Stillman Hanna
Pvt. Hugh Hamilton
Pvt. G.E. Hannibal
Pvt. Frank Harden
Pvt. Frank Hatchett
Corp. Ralph Hawkins
Colonel Wm. Hayward
Lieut. E.H. Holden
Sergt. Wm. H. Holliday
Corp. Earl Horton
Pvt. G. Howard
Lieut. Stephen H. Howey
Sergt. Major Clarence C. Hudson
Pvt. Ernest Hunter
Sergt. S. Jackson
Corp. Clarence Johnson
Sergt. D.F. Johnson
Pvt. Gilbert Johnson
Sergt. George Jones
Lieut. Gorman R. Jones
Sergt. James H. Jones
Pvt. Smithfield Jones
Pvt. J.C. Joynes
Lieut. W.H. Keenan
Lieut. Elwin C. King
Lieut. Harold M. Landon
Lieut. Nils H. Larsen
Major David A. L'Esperance
Lieut. W.F. Leland
Pvt. D.W. Lewis
Pvt. W.D. Link
Major Arthur W. Little
Lieut. Walter R. Lockhart
Sergt. B. Lucas
Pvt. Lester A. Marshall
Pvt. Lewis Martin
Sergt. A.J. McArthur
Capt. Seth B. MacClinton
Pvt. Elmer McGowan
Pvt. Herbert McGirt
Capt. Comerford McLoughlin
Pvt. L. McVea
Sergt. H. Matthews
Sergt. Jesse A. Miller
Sergt Wm. H. Miller
Sergt. E. Mitchell
Pvt. Herbert Mills
Corp. M. Molson
Lieut. E.D. Morey
Sergt. W. Morris
Sergt. G.A. Morton
Lieut. E.A. Nostrand
Sergt. Samuel Nowlin
Capt. John O. Outwater
Lieut. Hugh A. Page
Lieut. Oliver H. Parish
Sergt. C.L. Pawpaw
Pvt. Harvey Perry
Sergt. Clinton Peterson
Lieut. Col. W.A. Pickering
Lieut. Richardson Pratt
Sergt. John Pratt
Sergt. H.D. Primas
Pvt. Jeremiah Reed
Lieut. Durant Rice
Pvt. John Rice
Sergt. Samuel Richardson
Sergt Charles Risk
Pvt. F. Ritchie
Lieut. G.S. Robb
Corp. Fred Rogers
Pvt. Lionel Rogers
Pvt. George Rose
Lieut. R.M. Rowland
Sergt. Percy Russell
Sergt. L. Sanders
Pvt. William Sanford
Lieut. H.J. Argent
Pvt. Marshall Scott
Capt. Lewis E. Shaw
Capt. Samuel Shethar
Lieut. Hoyt Sherman
Major G. Franklin Shiels
Pvt. A. Simpson
Sergt. Bertrand U. Smith
Pvt. Daniel Smith
Sergt. Herman Smith
Corp. R.W. Smith
Major Lorillard Spencer
Sergt. J.T. Stevens
Corp. Dan Storms
Lieut. George F. Stowell
Corp. T.W. Taylor
Lieut. Frank B. Thompson
Sergt. Lloyd Thompson
Sergt. A.L. Tucker
Sergt. George Valaska
Lieut. D.H. Vaughan
Capt. Edward A. Walton
Capt Charles Warren
Sergt. Leon Washington
Pvt. Casper White
Capt. James D. White
Sergt. Jay White
Sergt. Jesse J. White
Sergt. C.E. Williams
Pvt. Robert Williams
Sergt. Reaves Willis
Pvt. H. Wiggington
Sergt. L. Wilson
Pvt. Tim Winston
Sergt. E. Woods
Pvt. George Wood
Lieut. A.D. Worsham
Sergt. E.C. Wright
Sergt. Henry Johnson
Pvt. Needham Roberts

CHAPTER XV.


OVER THERE.


HENRY JOHNSON AND NEEDHAM ROBERTS—THE TIGER'S CUBS—NEGRO FIRST TO GET PALM—JOHNSON'S GRAPHIC STORY—SMASHES THE GERMANS—IRVIN COBB'S TRIBUTE—CHRISTIAN AND MOHAMMEDAN NEGROES PALS—VALOR OF 93RD DIVISION—LAUGHTER IN FACE OF DEATH—NEGRO AND POILU HAPPY TOGETHER—BUTTE DE MESNIL—VALIANT AND HUMOROUS ELMER McCOWIN—WINNING WAR CROSSES—VERDICT OF THE FRENCH—THE NEGRO'S FAITH.



A most conspicuous Negro hero of the war, and for that matter of any race serving with the American army, was Sergeant Henry Johnson of Albany, N.Y. His exploit was shared by a company mate, Needham Roberts. For pure bull dog grit and tigerish fighting, the exploit has seldom, if ever, been equalled in the annals of any war. It resulted in the War Crosses for each with a special citation, and the whole French force in that section of the Champagne lined up to see them get the decorations. Across the red and green ribbon of Johnson's decoration was a golden palm, signifying extraordinary valor. Johnson was the first private of any race in the American army to get the palm with his Croix de Guerre. Here is the story as told in Johnson's own words after his arrival back in New York:
"There isn't so much to tell", said Johnson with characteristic modesty. "There wasn't anything so fine about it. Just fought for my life. A rabbit would have done that.

"Well, anyway, me and Needham Roberts were on patrol duty on May 15. The corporal wanted to send out two new drafted men on the sentry post for the midnight-to-four job. I told him he was crazy to send untrained men out there and risk the rest of us. I said I'd tackle the job, though I needed sleep.

"German snipers had been shooting our way that night and I told the corporal he wanted men on the job who knew their rifles. He said it was imagination, but anyway he took those green men off and left Needham and me on the posts. I went on at midnight. It was moonlight. Roberts was at the next post. At one o'clock a sniper took a crack at me from a bush fifty yards away. Pretty soon there was more firing and when Sergeant Roy Thompson came along I told him.

"'What's the matter men' he asked, 'You scared?'

"'No I ain't scared', I said, 'I came over here to do my bit and I'll do it. But I was jes' lettin' you know there's liable to be some tall scrappin' around this post tonight'. He laughed and went on, and I began to get ready. They'd a box of hand grenades there and I took them out of the box and laid them all in a row where they would be handy. There was about thirty grenades, I guess. I was goin' to bust that Dutch army in pieces if it bothered me.

"Somewhere around two o'clock I heard the Germans cutting our wire out in front and I called to Roberts. When he came I told him to pass the word to the lieutenant. He had just started off when the snippin' and clippin' of the wires sounded near, so I let go with a hand grenade. There was a yell from a lot of surprised Dutchmen and then they started firing. I hollered to Needham to come back.

"A German grenade got Needham in the arm and through the hip. He was too badly wounded to do any fighting, so I told him to lie in the trench and hand me up the grenades.

"'Keep your nerve' I told him. 'All the Dutchmen in the woods are at us, but keep cool and we'll lick 'em.' Roberts crawled into the dugout. Some of the shots got me, one clipped my head, another my lip, another my hand, some in my side and one smashed my left foot so bad that I have a silver plate holding it up now.

"The Germans came from all sides. Roberts kept handing me the grenades and I kept throwing them and the Dutchmen kept squealing, but jes' the same they kept comin' on. When the grenades were all gone I started in with my rifle. That was all right until I shoved in an American cartridge clip—it was a French gun—and it jammed.

"There was nothing to do but use my rifle as a club and jump into them. I banged them on the dome and the side and everywhere I could land until the butt of my rifle busted. One of the Germans hollered, 'Rush him! Rush him!' I decided to do some rushing myself. I grabbed my French bolo knife and slashed in a million directions. Each slash meant something, believe me. I wasn't doing exercises, let me tell you.

"I picked out an officer, a lieutenant I guess he was. I got him and I got some more of them. They knocked me around considerable and whanged me on the head, but I always managed to get back on my feet. There was one guy that bothered me. He climbed on my back and I had some job shaking him off and pitching him over my head. Then I stuck him in the ribs with the bolo. I stuck one guy in the stomach and he yelled in good New York talk: 'That black —— got me.'

"I was still banging them when my crowd came up and saved me and beat the Germans off. That fight lasted about an hour. That's about all. There wasn't so much to it."
No, there was not much to it, excepting that next morning the Americans found four German bodies with plentiful indications that at least thirty-two others had been put on the casualty list and several of the German dead probably had been dragged back by their comrades. Thirty-eight bombs were found, besides rifles, bayonets and revolvers.


It was Irvin Cobb, the southern story writer, who first gave to the world a brief account of the exploit of Johnson and Roberts in the
Saturday Evening Post
during the summer of 1918. He commented as follows:
"If ever proof were needed, which it is not, that the color of a man's skin has nothing to do with the color of his soul, this twain then and there offered it in abundance."
Mr. Cobb in the same article paid many tributes to the men of the 369th and 371st serving at that time in that sector. Among other things he said:
"They were soldiers who wore their uniforms with a smartened pride; who were jaunty and alert and prompt in their movements; and who expressed as some did vocally in my hearing, and all did by their attitude, a sincere heartfelt inclination to get a whack at the foe with the shortest possible delay."
Continuing, Mr. Cobb uttered a sentiment that is sure to awaken a glow in the hearts of all sympathizers and friends of the Negro race. "I am of the opinion personally," he said, "and I make the assertion with all the better grace, I think, seeing that I am a Southerner with all the Southerner's inherited and acquired prejudices touching on the race question—that as a result of what our black soldiers are going to do in this war, a word that has been uttered billions of times in our country, sometimes in derision, sometimes in hate, sometimes in all kindliness—but which I am sure never fell on black ears but it left behind a sting for the heart—is going to have a new meaning for all of us, South and North too, and that hereafter n-i-g-g-e-r will merely be another way of spelling the word American."


Many a man in the four regiments comprising the 93rd division when he heard about the exploit of May 15th, oiled his rifle, sharpened his bayonet and whetted his trench knife, resolved to go Henry Johnson and Needham Roberts one better if the opportunity came to him. It did come to many of them in the days that followed and although none got a chance to distinguish himself in equal degree with the redoubtable Johnson, it was because the Boche had become too wary. They had cultivated a healthy respect for the colored men and called them "blutlustige schwartze manner," meaning "blood-thirsty black men." Another nickname they had was "Hell Fighters."


When the 93rd division was brigaded with the French on the Aisne, at least two of the component regiments were under a French general having in his command several thousand Moroccan Negroes. He placed them on the other side of the river fearing they would quarrel over religious differences. However, it was impossible to keep them from fraternizing. There were no religious disputes, nor is it of record that the Americans attempted to convert the Mohammedans. But they did initiate their turbaned comrades into the mysteries of a certain American game and it is said that the disciples of Allah experienced considerable hard luck.


Most of the 93rd division was under fire from the early days of May, 1918, until the close of the war. The 369th, which left New York with 56 officers and 2,000 men, returned with only 20 officers and 1,200 men of the original organization. A few had been transferred to casual companies and other commands, but many will never come back; their bodies being part of the soil of France—killed in action, died of wounds or disease.


The tale of the 93rd is full of deeds of valor, laughter in the face of death, of fearful carnage wrecked upon the foe, of childlike pride in the homage their Allies paid them, and now and then an incident replete with the bubbling Negro humor that is the same whether it finds its outlet on the cotton-fields of Dixie or the battlefields of France.


Between the French and the colored troops the spirit was superb. The French poilu had not been taught that the color of a man's skin made a difference. He had no prejudices. How could he have, coming from a nation whose motto is LIBERTY, FRATERNITY, EQUALITY? He formed his judgment from bravery and Manhood and Honor. The Negro soldiers ate, slept and drank with the poilus. They were happy together.