IT was our greatest hope, when we left that great city of the Middle West, in May, 1918, that we might have the privilege of serving those soldiers whom we had seen march proudly away about six months before, and entrain for the city of the South, there to prepare to take their part on the great western front, in the world’s greatest war. It was at once a joyous and heart-aching privilege to follow them from the spacious 8th Regiment Armory, through the penetrating breeze from Lake Michigan, in order that we might see them bid a last adieu to those who loved them most; the mothers, wives, and sweethearts who clung to the car windows and steps for a last tearful embrace, as the train prepared to move slowly away, bearing its burden of human freight, some of whom were not to return, but were to remain resting in those fields whose blood-red poppies seemed death’s perfect emblem of crimson beauty.

But failing to have the privilege of serving them, we desired in all earnestness of heart to serve whatever other colored regiments were marshaled in battle array against the foe; those who were facing the shot and shell; the poison gas and liquid flame; the bombs from above and the mines from beneath; who were struggling through barbed wire entanglements, and sleeping in trenches and dugouts; who were suffering in all possible ways from the wicked ingenuity of the Germans; who went for days without food and drink; and who offered themselves as a supreme sacrifice to help to make the world safe for democracy.

To these troops we owe much for our splendid record in the World War. They summoned with superhuman strength the courage to overcome the galling and heart-breaking discriminations which they had known before they crossed the seas; the open and public discussion as to whether colored men should be allowed to fight; the tragedy of Houston, and the resulting discouragement at Des Moines;1 the impudence of the commanding officer at Camp Funston, and the pre-arranged and infamous plan to discredit colored officers on the battlefields; all this was sufficient to sap their very life blood before it had a chance to crimson the soil of Flanders Fields; and it was to these troops that we felt we owed all that could be given of service and devotion.

But we were not permitted to do this service for which we longed so much, and consequently our chapter on Combatant Troops must be a record of facts which we have gathered from officers and men of the different organizations who have so kindly and willingly come to our assistance. True, it is a brief record; the full record must be left to those who write the histories; but we hope it is quite sufficient to establish for all time the fact that these troops lived up to the full measure of their opportunity; that whether under white or colored leadership, they fought bravely and with undaunted courage; that their spirit of patience and long suffering enabled them to overcome even the battle of prejudice, which had followed them even into that war-torn country, and which at times was more ominous and terrible than any war-weary conflict; and finally that they won for themselves a crown whose glory and beauty will increase with the passing of the years.

COLORED OFFICERS AND THE 92nd DIVISION

The American colored men had very small opportunity to get training that would fit them for officers before going overseas; there was only one graduate of West Point available, Col. Charles Young, of Wilberforce, Ohio; unfortunately the army found him physically unfit, and retired him from active service just one day before a long list of brigadier generals was made, among whom he was sixth in line for promotion. He was finally called back into active service, and since the war has ended has been sent to Africa. A white colonel remarked in his introduction of Colonel Young to a large meeting held at St. Mark’s M. E. Church, 53rd Street, New York City, in December, 1919, and in the hearing of the writer, that it was very plain that the only reason why this dark-skinned military officer had been retired, was that the army did not want a black general.

For a number of years preceding our entrance into the war, no colored students had been admitted to West Point, and no colored man had ever entered the Naval Academy at Annapolis. One colored school, however—Wilberforce University—had maintained for a number of years a department of military tactics supported by the government. Here Colonel Young, and other regular army officers had been kept from time to time as instructors. During the war 65 men, graduates and undergraduates of the school, received commissions as officers.

The small number who had received limited training here, however, was quite inadequate to be of much service among any considerable number of troops; and the problem of how to train colored officers became quite a vexation; the camps that gave six weeks’ training to white men did not wish to admit them, and there were many who argued that colored men should not be allowed to become soldiers, and that therefore there would be no need for colored officers. Southern congressmen were particularly alarmed over any prospects of colored men learning to use guns.

After some weeks of agitation, however, the war department decided to establish a training camp at Des Moines, Iowa, where about 1,100 men entered for the three months’ course. Over six hundred received commissions as 2nd Lieutenants, 1st Lieutenants, or Captains. There seemed to be a rule that no colored man in training should receive a commission higher than that of captain. Most of these men were college graduates, and on the whole were of a very high type.

They were assigned to the 92nd Division, and to any other units where colored officers were allowed to serve, and were needed; but the record of the 92nd Division shows more than that of any other organization the ability of the officers of the Des Moines Training School.

The 92nd Division was composed of the 365th and 366th Infantries, and the 350th Machine Gun Battalion, which made up the 183rd Infantry Brigade, commanded by General Barnum; and the 367th and 368th Infantries, together with the 351st Machine Gun Battalion, which made up the 184th Infantry Brigade, commanded by General Hay. These two Brigades, commanded by colored officers as high as the rank of captain, together with the 167th Artillery Brigade, commanded with few exceptions, by white officers, made up the 92nd Division, which was under the command of Major General Ballou.

Major General Ballou had had charge of the Training School at Des Moines, at which time his rank was that of colonel. Through the influence of friends, some colored men included, he was promoted, and given charge of this large body of colored troops; but before he left for France, even, he caused an order to be issued, known as Bulletin No. 35, which must have operated in no small degree to destroy his influence with his men, and cause a humiliation of spirit among them which would take away whatever desire they might have had to lay down their lives that Democracy might live. The following is the text of the Bulletin:

Nothing that General Ballou could do in the way of prosecuting the theatre manager, which he is said to have done, could alleviate the moral effect of this order upon men who were being sent to another country to fight for the preservation of the very privileges of which they at that very moment were being denied.

The 92nd Division as a complete unit received no training as such in the United States, but arrived in France by regiments, the entire number having landed at Brest by June 20, 1918. The four infantry regiments went into training at Bourbon les Bains, where they remained seven weeks, when they were sent to the Vosges Sector; they remained there from August 23 to September 20, and were then sent into the region of the Argonne Forest, where they were partially engaged in the great Meuse-Argonne Drive. It was here that the 368th Regiment was sent over the top, without being equipped with rifle grenades, instruments that were absolutely necessary for use in the destruction of German machine-gun nests. Very few of the officers and none of the enlisted men had ever seen such a grenade, and the absence of this weapon in warfare where guns alone were practically useless, caused a retreat which resulted in several of the colored officers being arrested and sent to prison for cowardice. Capt. Leroy Godman, a colored attorney from Columbus, Ohio, secured a record of the facts, and after his return to America, was instrumental in having them presented to the War Department; this action resulted in the release and exoneration of the officers, and the stigma of cowardice was removed from the entire regiment, and public notice of it was given in the newspapers throughout the entire country.

The 92nd Division was never permitted until two days before the signing of the Armistice to function in battles as an entire unit. The following bulletin by Brigadier General Erwin shows how certain parts were at all times kept in reserve:

This bulletin shows that from September 26 to 30, 1918, the entire 368th Infantry, and one battalion each of the 365th, 366th, and 367th were engaged in action in the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, and that, from September 30 to October 4, the 183rd Brigade, composed of the 365th and 366th Infantries, was actively engaged in the same offensive. But at no time is the entire 92nd Division shown to be in active service except on November 10 and 11, when it is reported to be attacking in the direction of Corny.

During its activities the Division lost 248 men and 7 officers killed and died of wounds. There were a number of individual citations for bravery, and one entire battalion belonging to the 367th Infantry was awarded the Croix de Guerre. On the morning of the signing of the Armistice the 365th Infantry had taken several hundred yards of the battle front, the 366th had captured and was still in possession of several kilometers of territory, and the 367th was nearest to the coveted stronghold of Metz of any of the units of the Allied Armies. Had the war lasted another day, the entire Division, along with six other divisions, had been selected to absorb the first shock of the battle.

Because of some unusually interesting things that happened in connection with the 367th Infantry, and because it has the distinction of having the only entire unit of the 92nd Division that was awarded the Croix de Guerre, its full history follows in some detail:

The 367th Infantry

The 367th Infantry came into existence at Camp Upton, N. Y., during the latter part of October, 1917. Sixty per cent of the soldiers who composed this regiment were from the State of New York, the South furnished 20 per cent, while the remainder came from New England and the West. It was commanded by Colonel Moss, a regular army man, originally from Louisiana, and an authority on military tactics, having published several books on the subject. He took charge of the regiment on November 2, 1917, and spent the winter in giving it what is said to have been the most thorough training of all the drafted regiments. He also christened the organization with the name of Buffaloes; this name had been given to colored soldiers by the Indians, in the early western pioneer days, when colored troops made it so interesting for the Red Men in frontier warfare, as to remind them of the buffaloes of their own great western plains. The name was finally adopted by the entire 92nd Division.