I. and II. Col. Franklin A. Denison and Lt. Col. Otis B. Duncan, the highest ranking colored officers in France. III. Col. Charles Young, the highest ranking colored officer in the United States Army. IV. Major Rufus M. Stokes. V. Major Joseph H. Ward. Two Colored Women With the American Expeditionary Forces By ADDIE W. HUNTON and KATHRYN M. JOHNSON Illustrated BBOOKLYN EAGLE PRESS BROOKLYN, NEW YORK SSOS06 Dedicated to the women of OUT race, who gave so trustingly and courageously the strongest of their young manhood to suffer and to die for the cause of freedom. With recognition and thanks to the authors quoted in this volume and to the men of the A. E. F. who have contributed so willingly and largely to the story herein related. Contents fFOREWORD 5 fTHE CALL AND THE ANSWER 9 fFiRST DAYS IN FRANCE 15 *THE Y.M.C.A. AND OTHER WELFARE ORGANIZATIONS 22 *THE COMBATANT TROOPS 41 fNON-COMBATANT TROOPS 96 fPiONEER INFANTRIES 112 fOvER THE CANTEEN IN FRANCE 135 {THE LEAVE AREA 159 *RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE FRENCH 182 *EDUCATION 199 fTHE SALVATION OF Music OVERSEAS 217 *RELJGIOUS LIFE AMONG THE TROOPS 227 fREBURYING THE DEAD 233 fSTRAY DAYS 241 *AFTERTHOUGHT . 253 t By Addie W. Hunton. * By Kathryn M. Johnson. Foreword T3EMARKABLE achievements are worthy of remarka- AX ble acclaim. This justifies our desire to add still another expression to those already written relative to the career of the colored American soldiers in the late World War. The heroic devotion and sacrifice of that career have won appreciative expressions from those who, from a personal point of view, know but little of the details. How much more then should they who walked side by side with those brave men in France realize the merit of their service and chant their praises. Surely they should be best able to interpret sincerely and sympathetically, lovingly and gratefully for our sol- diers, as they may not for themselves, something of the vicissitudes through which they passed as members of the American Expeditionary Forces. We feel, too, that almost fifteen months of continuous service that carried us practically over all parts of France, and afforded a heart to heart touch with thou- sands of men, is a guarantee of the knowledge and de- votion that has inspired this volume. Memories will ever crowd the mind and cause the eye to kindle with the light of loving sympathy as we recall our months of service at the base of supplies on the coast of France. For there we were privileged to learn something of the life and spirit of the stevedores, labor battalions and engineers- more than 25,000 of them who, through all the desolate days of war, never ceased in their efforts to connect America with Chateau Thierry, Verdun, Sedan, St. Mihiel and other great battle centers of France. There we beheld combat troops, filled with the spirit of adventure arriving fresh from America to follow the trail to the already warworn front. And there came also those regiments that we called Pioneer Infantries, the imprints of whose deeds of duty and dar- ing are stamped all over France. We followed our depot companies and engineers through those isolated stretches and wastes where they performed tasks so essential in the plans for victory. After many months we went away from the confusion of war to beautiful southern France. There we worked to make happy the days of the men who came for rest and recreation to that wonderful Alpine region of Savoie. There in the Leave Area, by the side of shimmering Lake Bourget, we learned something more of the life of our soldiers as they fought or worked on French soil. Every week, for five months or more, a thousand or so men poured into Chambery and Challes-les-Eaux, and we saw in them the gladness or depression of their service. Far to the North we took our way, over devastated areas, and dwelt midst the loneliness of poppy-covered fields in "No Man's Land." In those Cities of die Dead, we beheld our soldiers summoned to the supreme test of their loyalty and patience in the re-burying of the fallen American heroes. Back again to the coast we went to join in the great "Battle of Brest" the battle for the morale of the tired, anxious soldier waiting for transportation back to home and native friendships. For six weeks, from early morn- ing to midnight, our huts at Pontanezen echoed to the tread of thousands of feet. During that period it is esti- mated that fifty thousand colored soldiers passed through the camp. Battle scenes and war adventures were ended, but the memory was yet deeply poignant, and often silences revealed the depths of experiences beyond the power of all words. Because of all this, we strive to numbly recount the heart throbs of our heroes. Again the authors have written because to them it was given to represent in France the womanhood of our race in America those fine mothers, wives, sisters and friends who so courageously gave the very flower of their young manhood to face the ravages of war. That we then should make an effort to interpret with womanly com- prehension the loyalty and bravery of their men seems not only a slight recompense for all they have given, but an imperative duty. We believe that undervaluation is a more subtle and unkind foe than overvaluation, so that we have not re- frained in our story from a large measure of praise for a large measure of loyal and patriotic service, performed ofttimes under the most trying conditions. We have had no desire to attain to an authentic history, but have rather aimed to record our impressions and facts in a simple way. But wherever historical facts have been used, it has been largely to justify the measure of praise accorded and to offset the criticisms of preju- diced minds. This volume is written at a time when, after the shock of terrific warfare, the world has not yet found its balance when, in the midst of confusion, justice and truth call loudly for the democracy for which we have paid. / If for all time the world is to be free from the murder- ous scourge called war, it must make universal and eternal the practical application of the time-worn theory of the brotherhood of man. May this volume written in all love and truth, though perhaps imperfectly, serve to lift some souls nearer to this ideal. THE POTENT HOUR The hour is big with sooth and sign, with errant men at war. While blood of alien, friend and foe, imbues the land afar, And we with sable faces pent, move with the vanguard line, Shod with a faith that springtime keeps and all the stars opine. GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON. The Call and the Answer great thrilling, throbbing spirit of war THEdid not reach the United States until that memorable spring of 1918. Then it came in a mighty tidal wave of vitalized force and energy. Our country, woefully late, was at last awakened to terrific speed. Great human cargoes and innumerable tons of supplies held transports and ships to their guards. Cities, towns and villages were suddenly transformed into great inspirational centers of war activity. Meanwhile we were watch- ing the map of France, noting with deep anxiety the stubborn resistance of the war-weary French to the slow but certain advance of the enemy. Once again it moved with pitiless and determined face toward Paris the heart stream of all France. Although General Joffre had once checked the German raiders and sent them to confusion and death, their lesson was not yet learned and they were again throwing human force against the prin- ciples of right. But now that so many of the heroes of France had fallen, how would the foe be met? Surely there was urgent need of a strong army to stand at the Marne once again. The American Forces already in France were calling not only for help, but haste. Suddenly, we found ourselves included in this call with pass- in port hand. Not all at once did its full signifi- cance come to us, but in those waiting days, as we sat at our desk and tried to concentrate on TWO COLORED WOMEN WITH THE A. E. F. war-work at home, quite unconsciously, we would find the passport in our hands and our eyes search- ing the war map on the wall. Slowly we began to realize that we were to make an effort to reach "over there" where thousands of our own men had gone and other thousands must go. Then one dark afternoon, as the rain came down in torrents, the buzz of the telephone at our elbow told us our time had come. We asked no questions, for those were days of deep secrecy, but looked for the last time at the war map in the office studied it as never before, wondering where in that war- wrecked country across the Atlantic we would find our place of service. We breathed a little prayer, said good-bye to our fellow workers, knowing that tomorrow we would be on the ocean eastward bound and went out to meet her who was to try the unknown with us and who would prove the faithful companion of all our "overseas" life. There was no sleep that night for us; friends came and went, and two ever faithful ones lingered lov- ingly for the last possible service.