[Charles
Young]
THE OLD SOLDIER WHO WOULDN'T SURRENDER
[His protest ride from
by Lerone Bennett, Jr. for Ebony Magazine. November 1974, pp. 85-95.
The reaction among blacks was stormy and resentful. "Give us Charlie Young and we'll bring back the Kaiser!" was the slogan of the day. Editorials in black newspapers blasted the War Department for its hypocracy [sic]. They pointed out that the record of Col. Charles Young was equal in many cases superior-to those of white officers holding similar rank. But their protests went begging for official sympathy.
Cause of this furor was a typical story of
American injustice. When the
But the Army had no intention of letting this happen. Seventy-five percent of the Army's officers were white Southerners. Officers hip, they felt, was a "gentleman's profession" and they were opposed to Col. Young. Moreover, Young's position as a commanding officer-his promotion aside-had become an embarrassing situation. Southern white officers then attached to his command did not appreciate serving under a black commanding officer. Ways were explored in the highest quarters to arrange for his removal. The reason given was "high blood pressure."
As revealed in letters, only recently made public, the Department of "War was profoundly disturbed over Young's command of the black Tenth Cavalry Regiment, which included white officers. Even President Woodrow Wilson, in his private correspondence, became personally involved in the "Col. Young question," repeatedly seeking ways in which to alleviate the tension.
Young himself was in a curious situation. He
could not openly attack his superiors, for such an act would destroy his chance
for recognition. He did indicate his feelings, however, and far more
dramatically than any shouted words of protest. He rode a horse from
Young had worked hard to achieve his position.
The son of former slaves-- his father was a Civil War veteran-- he was born in
a log cabin at
Classmates jeered him as the "load of coal." He was ostracized and the few references made to him were always insulting. When men were being assigned to various phases of the work, for example, the officer of the day would ask contemptuously: "Who's going on this nigger detail?" Young, determined to survive the torments, refused to throw in the towel. And after four years' work he had become Second Lieutenant Young-- only the third black person ever to graduate [1888] from the Academy.
At first the young officer was given an
assignment with the black Ninth Cavalry Regiment in
When the war was over Young went back West, and,
as a staff officer at
Between 1901 and 1904, the then Capt. Young was
given a number of assignments in the Philippine Islands and in
Young's status in the Army never went to his head. He used to say, derisively, that wearing a full-dress uniform was "putting on the dog." To him, efficiency was the important thing. In the cavalry he worked his men hard, drove his horses to the limits of endurance. It was a common joke in Army circles that Young's men could not help looking healthy-- and his horses always lean-- because they were never given a chance to put on weight.
To a friend who was preparing to join the Tenth Cavalry Regiment, but was a bit apprehensive about how to go about it, Col. Young once wrote: "Get a good life insurance policy, with your family as beneficiary. Bring your Bible and yourself."
Although hard as nails on the military scene,
Young was in private life a devoted husband and father to his wife,
"He had a warm feeling for people and enjoyed having a good time," his widow remembered. "He could fill a whole house with laughter and merriment! Everyone in town would know when he returned from a trip. He was just effervescent. That's the only way I can describe him."
Ordered to Africa in 1911, Young assisted in the
creation of a frontier force for the
But in the process of being valuable, Young almost lost his life. Ambushed with 500 Liberian troops by an unfriendly tribe from the country's interior, he was seriously wounded. A tribesman, using a primitive weapon, had fired a rusty two-inch leg from a cast-iron pot into his arm. The lack of immediate medical attention brought on an attack of the dreaded black water fever-malaria in its worst form.
Young survived all these ordeals without
complaint. In 1916, during a border dispute with Gen. Pancho
Villa, American forces went deep into
His widow once recalled: "He was never one to talk about hardships in the line of duty. He always seemed to accept what came. When the government turned in the medical report on him, all he said was: 'Every full-blooded American who loves his country and his people naturally would have some high blood pressure.' "
Unfortunately for Young, and for other black soldiers, such devotion to country was not always reciprocated-particularly at a time when an impending World War had raised the possibility of his promotion to general officer.
Even as a colonel, his position had been an awkward one. He was deeply resented by many whites in his command. In a newly published book, Black Defenders of America, 1775-1973 (Johnson Publishing Co.), author Robert Ewell Greene discusses several of the ways in which government officials attempted to deal with Col. Young. Much of the material has only recently become available.
President Woodrow Wilson sent an informal letter
to then Secretary of War Newton D. Baker concerning complaints that he had
gotten from a member of the Congress, Sen. Sharpe Williams of
The secretary responded about a day or two later:
"The situation is, of course, very embarrassing, but I am endeavoring to
meet it by using Colonel Young in connection with the training of colored
officers for the new army at Des Moines, Iowa. It seems likely that I will be
able to tide over the difficulty in that way for at least a while."
The correspondence, continuing for several days,
was concluded with a message from Baker to the President: "Prior to your
note to me the Lieutenant Colonel Young was ordered before a retiring board on
the report of the surgeons that he was incapacitated for duty by reason of Bright's disease. Meanwhile, the adjutant general of the
State of
But Young was not a man to be dispensed with so easily. He reasoned, shrewdly, that in demonstrating to the nation the true state of his health, he'd expose the position of the government as a false one. So one morning, early in June 1918, he saddled a bay mare named Dolly, packed a saddlebag with lunch and put on his uniform.
"It's time for my people-- my brethren-- to
know that I am physically fit," he explained to his wife. His plan, which
he had considered for several days, was to ride Dolly from his hometown,
Young covered the distance in 16 days, stopping for the night at small towns along the way so his horse could be quartered and fed. The weather was good and he suffered no undue exposure. The unpleasantness he did suffer resulted from contacts with prejudiced people.
At one town he entered there was no provision for black travelers. Young asked if he could spend the. night on the porch of a house near a stable where white townspeople had agreed to quarter his horse. He was refused at first, but then the owner of the house gave in-- adding that he guessed it would be all right since Young was leaving early the next morning.
At another hamlet, in
Young asked if she would serve him a meal before he proceeded further. She hesitated, then said it would be all right if he left before her guests arrived. But in the middle of the meal, the guests turned up. When they saw Young, they exclaimed: "Why, here's Charlie! Good old Charlie!"
The guests, it turned out, were friends of
In one town Young was allowed to spend the night at a white roadside inn. The town, oddly enough, was one which advertised: "Nigger, don't let the sun set on you here!" As he sat before an open fire that evening, several of the assembled whites asked him who he was and where he was going.
"What an injustice," one remarked after he told them. "What can we do to help you?"
"Nothing to help me." Young said, "but if other Negro soldiers stop here, I wish you'd give them lodging for the night."
Shortly after his arrival in
Emmett J. Scott, the black special assistant to. the secretary of war, was anxiously awaiting Young's arrival. He took him to Baker's office at once.
"Col. Young," Baker said after they shook hands, "I've been hearing a great deal about you."
"I imagine that's very true, Mr. Secretary," Young said.
Baker paused, clearing his throat, then went an to discuss the editorial campaign that black newspapers were waging against the department. "I can't say the charges against us are justified," he remarked. "Our medical boards, after all, are composed of just and fair men. But colored people are so mistreated, I can easily see how they might be used by agitators . . ."
Baker talked an in this way for about ten or so minutes. Then he came to the point. "Col. Young, I'd like to ask you a question. Would you prefer combatant or non-combatant service?"
Young clicked his heels and saluted. "Combatant!"
"We'll see what we can do," Baker
concluded the interview. Baker's promise to look into the matter stirred the
black press to new levels of interest. Young was physically fit. Young was
qualified for a generalship. Why wasn't Young given a
chance to. serve overseas?
Young was eventually given "overseas
duty." However, he was returned to
W. E. B. Du Bois, writing later in Crisis, asked
an embarrassing question: "If Charles Young's blood pressure was too high
far him to go to
The question went unanswered. But late in
December of 1921, during a sojourn in
About a year and a half later his body was
exhumed and returned to the States for final services at
But again it was Du Bois, in
remarks in Crisis, who was able to. put the "Col.
Young affair" in some perspective. "If the