Brothers In Arms

by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar

  Early in 1945, the men of the beleaguered 92nd Division received what were essentially suicide orders to attack German positions frontally along a mountainous region made still more difficult by the man-made fortifications of Gen. Albert Kesselring's “Gothic Line.” Some units (as had assorted white troops in Europe) broke up under the intense fire; many more fought on. First Lt. Vernon Baker commanded a platoon of Company C with the 370th Infantry Regiment. On April 5, 1945, Baker, who had recently recovered from a previous combat wound, was ordered to lead his twenty-five-man team in an assault on Castle Aghinolfi, a mountain stronghold located near the town of Viareggio. Baker led his platoon forward through concentrated fire from several machine-gun emplacements. Spotting the slit of a German bunker in the hillside, Baker crawled ahead to empty his rifle into the hole; then he took out a nearby machine gun nest; then he blasted open another dugout with a grenade, running inside and killing the stunned German occupants with a submachine gun he had pulled off a dead soldier. Baker's commander, a white captain, had apparently seen enough action and told Baker he was heading back to the rear to gather “reinforcements.” Baker and his platoon fought on, waiting in vain for these nonexistent reinforcements. Of Baker's original platoon of twenty-five men, all but six were killed.

  The third of the African American soldiers to be awarded the Medal of Honor by President Clinton, Pvt. George Watson, served in the Navy with the 29th Quartermaster Regiment. On March 8, 1943, near Porloch Harbor, New Guinea, Watson's ship was heavily damaged by Japanese bombers. In the confusion of the mass evacuation, life rafts quickly became separated from the ship. Watson chose to remain in the water, pulling other soldiers who could not swim to the rafts. Watson continued these lifesaving efforts for an extended period of time, eventually becoming so exhausted that he could not himself reach the boats. He was dragged down by the undercurrent created by the sinking ship. His body was never recovered.

  The fourth African American to receive the Medal of Honor for his service in World War II, Pfc. Willy F. James Jr., fought with the 413th Regiment of the 104th Infantry Division. The 104th was originally created as an all-white unit; in December of 1944, however, the shortage of replacements in the American Army was so acute that a call was put out to black service units for volunteers, and Willy James was among those who signed on. On April 7, 1945, as part of the First U.S. Army's efforts to clear Germany's Ruhr Pocket, James's unit was ordered to secure a vital crossing over the Weser River. James acted as lead scout for his platoon, moving forward to draw enemy fire near the town of Lippoldsberg. James was pinned down by the intense barrage for more than an hour; he then returned to his platoon through the ongoing fire to report extensively on the entrenched German positions. In the platoon's following assault, James volunteered to walk point. When his platoon leader was mortally wounded, James ran to his aid and was himself struck and killed by enemy fire.

  S. Sgt. Edward A. Carter Jr. was also a replacement; Carter had originally been assigned to a supply unit in Europe, but voluntarily gave up his rank to serve as a private with an infantry unit attached to the 12th Armored Division. On March 23, 1945, near Speyer, Germany, Carter was riding on a tank along with several other infantrymen. The tank came under heavy bazooka and small-arms fire from a nearby warehouse. Carter volunteered to lead a team on foot across an open field to eliminate the German positions. Two members of Carter's four-man team were killed in this assault, and one was wounded. Carter himself was hit five times and forced to take cover. Eight enemy riflemen advanced on Carter's position, hoping either to capture him or to ascertain that he was dead. Carter killed six of the Germans and captured the other two. Then he crossed the exposed field back to the American line, using the two prisoners as a human shield; these prisoners were interrogated, yielding vital information on enemy positions.

  The sixth Medal of Honor recipient, 1st Lt. Charles L. Thomas, served with the 614th Tank Destroyer Battalion, an African American battalion, like the 761st, that trained at Fort Hood and was first committed to combat in France in November 1944. On December 14, 1944, Thomas volunteered to lead a tank destroyer platoon in an assault on the town of Climbach, five miles from the German border. Thomas's 250-man company would act as a decoy, making a frontal assault up a hill, drawing the brunt of the German fire while American infantry sneaked through the woods and entered the town. Thomas's armored scout car, riding point, was almost immediately hit by tank and artillery fire; the window shattered, spraying Thomas with glass and metal shards and rupturing the vehicle's tires. Thomas nonetheless jumped on top of the disabled vehicle and manned the .50-caliber machine gun. Hit numerous times in his chest, legs, and left arm, Thomas was eventually forced to take cover beneath his vehicle—but continued to direct the team, refusing to be evacuated until he was sure his men were well-placed. Thomas's unit, which suffered 50 percent casualties in the assault, succeeded in making possible the capture of Climbach.

  The final recipient of the Medal of Honor was the 761st Tank Battalion's S. Sgt. Ruben Rivers. Rivers's medal citation, granted fifty-two years after the date of his death, read: “For extraordinary heroism in action during 15–19 November 1944, toward Guebling, France. Though severely wounded in the leg, Sergeant Rivers refused medical treatment and evacuation, took command of another tank, and advanced with his company in Guebling the next day. Repeatedly refusing evacuation, Sergeant Rivers continued to direct his tank's fire at enemy positions through the morning of 19 November 1944. At dawn, Company A's tanks began to advance towards Bougaktroff [sic], but were stopped by enemy fire. Sergeant Rivers, joined by another tank, opened fire on the enemy tanks, covering Company A as they withdrew. While doing so, Sergeant Rivers' tank was hit, killing him and wounding the crew. Staff Sergeant Rivers' fighting spirit and daring leadership were an inspiration to his unit and exemplify the highest traditions of military service.”

  Rivers's nephew, George Livingston, and Rivers' sisters, Grace Rivers Woodfork and Anese Rivers Woodfork—the last of his siblings to wave good-bye as his train left the Holtulka, Oklahoma, station—were present at the White House ceremony.

  SOME OF THE MOST PERSONALLY painful memories of wartime for members of the 761st had occurred before they ever left the States—in their training at Camp Claiborne, Louisiana, and Camp Hood (now Fort Hood), Texas, in the deep hostility they faced from the civilian population and other soldiers there. Leonard Smith, along with many others of the battalion, had vowed that he would never return to either location. But in 1993, fifty years after the unit's departure from Camp Hood, a local woman named Beverly Taylor who had learned of the unit's struggles there and in Europe began lobbying the post commander for a monument to the 761st. She had searched Fort Hood's military museums, finding no mention of the battalion.

  In 1993, a temporary monument was dedicated on the site near the main gate, where, in 1996, ground was broken for a permanent monument to the unit. On October 16, 1994, Fort Hood's Headquarters Avenue was redesignated 761st Tank Battalion Avenue. On June 30, 1995, the main processing center at the post was named in honor of Ruben Rivers.

  The mayor of Killeen, Texas, retired colonel Raul Villaranga, had learned of the 761st's history and invited the unit back for a reunion. The general membership of the battalion voted to accept this invitation for a reunion in August 1996. Many of the battalion's members, who were understandably still anguished over their eleven months of gross mistreatment there when they wore the uniform of their country, did not attend. Those who did, Leonard Smith among them, were moved by the great efforts on the part of the mayor and civilians of the city to acknowledge what they had endured. One of the city's main streets was renamed “761st Tank Battalion Boulevard,” and they were given the key to the city. Smith had chosen to go back with no small measure of trepidation. But local residents whom Smith had never met came up to him as he walked down the street, introducing themselves and telling him that their grandparents or parents had lived in all-white Killeen at the time, and that they were
sorry for what he'd faced.

  SMITH AND MANY OTHERS in the battalion had for years carried memories of what they witnessed at the concentration camps in Germany and Austria in the final days of the war. Battalion members have visited Jewish organizations and school groups throughout the country to share these memories and to testify to the horrors they saw. Smith and other liberators were honored at the Simon Weisenthal Foundation in California, and Smith participated in the Holocaust Documentation and Education Center's oral history project; a copy of his interview is currently housed at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. Smith still counts the small role his unit was able to play in the liberation of the camps as among the proudest of its actions.

  FOLLOWING THE END OF WORLD WAR II, the 761st Tank Battalion continued its occupation and training duties until it was deactivated in Germany in 1947. The battalion was reactivated at Fort Knox, Kentucky, as a training unit, and was permanently deactivated on March 15, 1955. As many of its members have passed away, part of the great wave of approximately 1,000 World War II veterans who die each day, their reunions grow ever smaller. At its peak in the 1960s, more than four hundred veterans of the battalion attended the yearly gatherings; in the last few years, the number has dwindled to around thirty.

  THROUGH THE LONG YEARS of the absence of any public or official recognition for their battalion, one source of acknowledgment deeply meaningful to many veterans of the 761st has been their recognition by veterans of some of the units with which they served. Battalion members continue to receive the division newsletters of the 26th Infantry and 17th Airborne Divisions, among others. They felt a particularly close bond to the 26th, the first unit beside which they fought. More than fifty years after the war, when Floyd Dade visited France with his wife, this close bond was evidenced by an extraordinary, uncanny encounter with Oscar Jensen, a member of the 26th Division's 101st Infantry Regiment.

  Jensen described this meeting: “In August 1995, I had the pleasure of making a trip to the ETO with my son and son-in-law. . . . Our tour began by first visiting the Normandy Beaches and then traveling east along the path of the YD [26th Yankee Division]. . . . While viewing the church at Ste. Mere Eglise where the paratrooper mannequin still hangs from the spire, we met an African American gentleman and his wife. After a brief conversation we found that we had both landed nearby . . . and then discovered we had both joined the battle in the Lorraine area. He had been a tanker with the 761st Tank Battalion. I expressed my surprise, as they had supported the YD in that region. I mentioned that I had brought a photo from the November 27, 1944 ‘Stars and Stripes' taken during the battle for Guebling.”

  This photograph was of “two tanks, one knocked out and being used by the other as a shield.” The picture had been taken on the eastern side of Guebling on November 18. The knocked-out tank belonged to the 4th Armored Division; the second vehicle, which was positioned to guard the crossroads at the edge of town overlooking Bourgaltroff, belonged to the 761st. It was in fact Floyd Dade's tank. Jensen continues, “I had ducked under that tank's gun to enter the adjacent barn. This man of our chanced meeting was the fellow with his head sticking out of the hatch of that tank! He also had that photo with him and also planned to visit that same spot! We were both dumfounded! This after 51 years!!!!”

  WILLIAM MCBURNEY REMAINED in plastics for thirty-five years, becoming a foreman and eventually rising to the position of plant manager of a factory in New Jersey. Preston McNeil continued working at the post office until his retirement. McNeil and his wife of many years raised a family of their own and then, though they had little money to spare, the deeply religious couple adopted five children, all siblings, so that they could remain together.

  Leonard Smith worked for more than twenty-five years for the New York City transit police before retiring. He was married several times. Over the years, he found that he thought more and not less about his time with the 761st. He thought often about his best friend, Willie Devore. He had called Willie's family shortly after the war ended—but found that it would have been too painful for them to hear the details of their son's death. Devore is still buried overseas, and Smith has made a number of trips to Europe to visit his grave in the American military cemetery in Luxembourg.

  During a visit nearly fifty years later to the memory-filled region around Tillet, Belgium, Smith came across a surprising and startling memorial. In the middle of a town square in Bastogne, a lone Sherman tank with a hole in its side from an antitank gun stands as a monument to the sacrifices of American soldiers in the fierce combat that took place there during the Battle of the Bulge. Smith has described the inital sighting of the tank as one of the most significant moments of his life.

  He has remained one of the battalion association's most active members. The foster child from Queens who first volunteered for the military because he was looking for high adventure, and learned through the grim realities of combat the emptiness of such hopes, had found something else instead. It would take him years to realize what had happened to him, what he had been too young in 1945 to voice or even begin to understand: In the heat of Louisiana and Texas and in the endless dark fields and snow-covered woods of bitter-cold France, Belgium, and Germany, beside a ragged, often bewildered, and yet determined group of young men who somehow managed to wake every morning under the worst of circumstances and keep pushing forward no matter what they experienced from the enemy or what was said about them by their allies, and who never let each other down, he had found his home.

  Endnotes

  Chapter One: Volunteers

  “The colored man only waits . . .” William S. McFeely, Frederick Douglass, W. W. Norton, New York, 1991, p. 218.

  “You got to have a mean coon . . .” David J. Williams, Hit Hard, Bantam Books, New York, 1983, p. 18.

  “Bullying, abuse and physical violence . . .” Judge Hastie, as quoted in Lou Potter with William Miles and Nina Rosenblum, Liberators: Fighting on Two Fronts in World War II, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, New York, 1992, pp. 71–73.

  Chapter Two: Soldiers

  “Wars may be fought . . .” George S. Patton, quoted in Carlo D'Este, Patton: A Genius for War, HarperCollins, New York, 1995, p. 607.

  “The tank is a special, technical . . .” Patton, “Comments on Cavalry Tanks,” Cavalry Journal, Vol. 30, July 1921, quoted in Patton, D'Este, p. 299.

  “exactly right . . .” Stephen Ambrose, Eisenhower, Vol. 1, pp. 71–72, quoted in Patton, D'Este, p. 299.

  “You know what . . .” Paul L. Bates, speech given at the Fort Hood 761st Tank Battalion Monument Banquet, February 11, 1994, quoted in Joe W. Wilson Jr., The 761st “Black Panther” Tank Battalion in World War II, McFarland & Company, Jefferson, NC, 1999, p. 33.

  “I'm going to come out fighting!” Ivan H. Harrison, interview with Joe W. Wilson Jr., conducted August 23, 1996, quoted in The 761st “Black Panther” Tank Battalion, Wilson, p. 38.

  “Robinson, I want to commend you . . .” Jackie Robinson, “Jackie Tells Own Story,” Washington Post, August 23, 1949, quoted in The 761st “Black Panther” Tank Battalion, Wilson, p. 39.

  “Robinson, I don't care how . . .” Ibid.

  “one of the most serious problems . . .” Gibson, quoted in Liberators, Potter, pp. 119–20.

  “All the reports coming up to Washington . . .” Trezzvant W. Anderson, Come Out Fighting: The Epic Tale of the 761st Tank Battalion 1942–45, The Advocate Press, New Haven, CT, 1979, p. 15.

  “arthritis, chronic, nonsuppurative . . .” Arnold Rampersad, Jackie Robinson: A Biography, Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 1997, p. 98.

  “physically disqualified for general military . . .” Ibid.

  “go on and drive the bus . . .” Virginia Jones, Deposition, July 19, 1944, quoted in The Liberators, Potter, p. 126.

  “Will you move to the back?” Ibid.

  “There's the nigger that's been . . .” Jackie Robinson as told to Alfred Duckett, I Never Had It Made, G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York, 1972
, p. 31.

  “Quit fucking with me.” Robinson, as quoted in Jules Tygiel, “The Court-Martial of Jackie Robinson,” American Heritage, August/September 1984, pp. 34–39. Reprinted in The 761st Tank Battalion & Allied Veterans Association of World War II, Celebrating their 37th Annual Reunion, August 28– September 1, 1985.

  “They were enlisted men . . .” I Never Had It Made, Robinson, p. 31.

  “nigger lieutenant” Tygiel, “The Court-Martial of Jackie Robinson.”

  “did not seem to recognize me . . .” Jackie Robinson, Rampersad, p. 103.