American troops marching in formation through the streets of Belfast were a welcome sight to the war-weary citizens of Northern Ireland in late January 1942.1 Newspapers that rarely ran photographs during the paper rationing of the war years suddenly dedicated dozens of column inches to images showing the arrival of the Yanks to Ulster.2 In one photo, a cheeky white American stands on a ladder to the second floor of a home to woo a young woman leaning out the window. Belfast newspaper editors labeled him an “American ‘Romeo,’” while another image featured the profile of a US soldier chomping on a fat cigar.3
Editorials breathlessly praised the speedy arrival of the Americans, whose president had pledged three weeks earlier, just after the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, to send troops to aid his ally. The Belfast News-Letter noted: “No more striking demonstration of our great ally’s earnestness could be desired than the presence of these fighting men in our midst.”4 It was as if the British Isles had taken a collective sigh of relief.
Six months later, however, British papers neither heralded the arrival of African American5 troops in Northern Ireland, nor did Ulster newspapers photograph their arrival. Few mainstream American newspapers even reported the story. The New York Times only ran a photo at the top of page eight of its July 29, 1942, edition to mark the event.6 The American black press, however, celebrated the news. The Chicago Defender ran a page six photo documenting the deployment in its July 25, 1942, edition. Both the Times’s and the Defender’s images featured platoon-sized units of African American troops interacting with British soldiers. Names were omitted to avoid violating censorship regulations, but the similarities ended there.
The Times’s picture depicted a black platoon standing around a refreshments table looking frightened and uncertain after landing in Northern Ireland. Two white Ulster volunteers are pushed into the far-right corner. They are observers, not participants. This shot was a stark contrast to the photos of the white Americans who had arrived so triumphantly six months earlier. Meanwhile, in the Defender’s image, the troops are engaged in conversation with a corporal in the Royal Air Force. Everyone is smiling as the white airman shows off the spoils of war: a piece of German equipment. The image reaffirmed to Defender readers that the color bar was nonexistent in Britain and that African Americans deployed there enjoyed a life not possible back home. Few, if any, Ulster residents saw these images.
Those thousands of African American troops dispersed across Northern Ireland and England practically doubled the nation’s minority population overnight.7 For African Americans, especially those from Southern states, the deployment would be the first time they were in a society where Jim Crow laws did not dictate the boundaries of everyday life. White American soldiers became frustrated as they saw African Americans stepping out with British women and, in many instances, being treated better by their hosts.8 Hostilities quickly developed among the segregated US camps. For Ulster citizens, particularly Irish Catholics, the arrival of African Americans represented an opportunity to defy the Crown by socially engaging with them—much to the dismay of British and American officials.9
This chapter examines the concerns British officials expressed about the effect of African American troops on their homogenously white society, how they braced for anticipated unrest among Americans, and how they put pressure on Northern Ireland newspaper editors to exercise discretion in reporting racial tensions. It will also explore how US military officials attempted to smooth over racial issues among deployed units—including a publicized tour of the British Isles by the US Army’s only African American general officer with little success—and their eventual resort to an extension of Jim Crowism. Finally, this chapter uses reports from the British and American press to examine how predictions of racial problems were realized at a bar in Antrim, a village just north of Belfast.
While Antrim is a commonly cited example of places where high-profile racial tensions occurred among American troops stationed in Britain,10 previous research has largely ignored media coverage of the incident that resulted in the death of one American soldier and the serious injury of another. A study of the news coverage will help create a better understanding of newsgathering routines the transnational press used to report on wartime racial tensions and paint a larger picture of race relations and press censorship during this period. Similarly, this chapter argues that because the Antrim incident occurred early in the war, both the British and American press demonstrated greater autonomy in terms of how it was reported—a freedom that diminished as the war continued and news organizations began to exercise greater self-censorship or experience increased government-imposed censorship. Primary sources included newspaper coverage11 of the Antrim incident; US and British governmental documents, including correspondence among government leaders; and military reports concerning racial tensions among US troops.
Creating a “Considerable Flutter” in Ulster
“More American Troops in Ulster,” the headline in the Belfast News-Letter blared across the front page on May 19, 1942.12 Below the single-deck headline, sandwiched between stories about the war efforts in the China-Burma-India theater and Vichy talks in Rome, ran a photo of US troops walking down a gangway. Five months after the first arrival of Americans, the Ulster press was still reporting relief at the sight of more US forces.
The paper’s correspondent noted: “It was heartening to see the tanks coming ashore”13 in the largest contingent of American troops since the United States had joined the war. In the months that followed, the newspaper would print images of the Americans—US sailors saluting the American flag at a Londonderry naval base, US commanders participating in ceremonies with the lord mayor of Belfast, and servicemen playing games of baseball on local soccer pitches.14 In each image, the Americans were white.
Indeed, in a summary of American forces and military activities in 1942, an Ulster cabinet official noted the general camaraderie between white American and British troops in early 1942. The report stated: “The first arrival on the 26th of January was a mere token force of some 4,000 men. . . . [T]heir coming caused a considerable flutter all over Ulster.”15 As Allied troops prepared for the Northern Africa campaign, the same cabinet member noted that cooperation and conviviality among the armies left positive feelings all around. The British found the Yanks to be less “assertive” than they had anticipated, and the Americans found the Brits to be less “unsociable and supercilious.” The cabinet member wrote, “In fact, generally, the American was treated by the garrison and populace of Northern Ireland as a welcome guest.”16
The official credited much of this to the fact that many of the first Americans to arrive in Ulster were from midwestern farms rather than major urban centers. These Yanks fit well into the rural surroundings of Northern Ireland. But the shiny veneer of the American invasion17 did not last long in some quarters of British government. By June 1942, British officials in the Colonial, Foreign, and Home Offices were all voicing concerns. Of particular worry: the projected numbers of African American troops en route to Northern Ireland and the British Isles and how racial tensions among the Americans might influence British society.
A “Very Nasty Situation Brewing Up”
One Colonial Office official noted to a colleague on June 24, 1942: “I hear through a liaison officer with the Americans that they [white US soldiers] are taking a threatening attitude about the blacks and coloured people they find over here.”18 The official added there had also been growing talk among the Americans that they would lynch anyone of African descent seen dancing with white girls. He noted: “Allowance must be made for loose talk of course, but I fear there may be a very nasty situation brewing up.”19 The official concluded that as a matter of imperial policy, “We cannot encourage a colour bar or tolerate outrages on blacks.”20 It did not take long for more accounts of “nasty situations” to start popping up.21
Within a month, John L. Keith, a welfare officer in the Colonial Office, wrote to his superior, Sir Charles Jeffries, noting the large numbers of African American troops in the United Kingdom was “having repercussions on our work for coloured Colonial people, and the treatment the Americans mete out to their negroes is the subject of comment by coloured Colonials.”22 American commanders suggested presentations to British military staff explaining the complex race issue back home, prompting Keith to note:
Any discriminatory treatment of coloured persons in this country is bound to react on the work we are trying to do to break down the colour bar and to help coloured people in this country to fit into the work and life of this country. I do not understand the reference to lectures to be given by Americans on the colour question. It would be very undesirable for the Americans to lecture British people on colour bar!23
He concluded that any attempt by the Americans to segregate troops would result in British citizens developing resentments toward their allies.24 A month earlier Keith said it was “rather a pity that the Americans cannot bring over some of their negro fighting men,” which at the time he thought would help ease the lot for Colonials adjusting to British society.25
These mounting concerns were not limited to the Colonial Office. By July 1942 chief constables from across the country were writing to the Home Office with similar concerns about race relations. Oxfordshire’s chief constable, T.E. St. Johnston, in a letter to Sir Frank Newsam, the British undersecretary of state in the Home Office, worried that while the eighteen hundred American troops in the county were thus far, all white, “it is expected that there will be a fair proportion of coloured troops among the incoming contingents, and the problems that will arise when this occurs, have been under active discussion in this County during the past few days.”26 St. Johnston pointed out the need for an established Home Office or War Office policy regarding African American troops in the United Kingdom, particularly when they were off duty. Otherwise, he feared “serious clashes” were likely.27
The Oxfordshire constable believed African American troops would be fine if left to themselves, but that “the American white troops will create trouble if it is found that the coloured troops are associating with white civilians, and in particular with white girls.”28 He suggested a propaganda campaign to explain the British position on the lack of a color bar in the country. St. Johnston also urged the Home Office to find a way to prevent British women from “misconducting” themselves with African American troops, “if for no other reason than that we do not desire to have a certain proportion of the population semi-coloured, in rural districts in this Country in the future.”29
St. Johnston’s latter request quickly gained traction among officials in the Home Office. By August 10, 1942, a confidential memo entitled “U.S.A. Coloured Troops” was circulating among the Home Office and the country’s regional commissioners. Drafted by Harry Haig, regional commissioner for the Southern Regional Headquarters, the two-page report outlined how the presence of African American troops in the United Kingdom—and their interactions with British civilians—could stir up problems among American troops and urged a nationwide educational undertaking. He outlined a proposed “discreet” propaganda piece that included a “sympathetic historical statement” about how African Americans arrived in the United States, the experience US leaders had when attempting to “mix the races,” and the general difficulties that resulted.30 Haig’s proposal noted: “This implies no inequality. But the races are different in character, in education, in outlook; and intimacy in the end means trouble. Do not treat them in any way as outcasts. Be helpful, be kind; but not intimate.”31 Further, Haig wrote that regional officials concurred that this propaganda campaign should be limited to word of mouth and strictly kept from the press.32
After reaching consensus among regional commissioners and Home Office staff, a circular was offered to the War Office, Ministry of Information, Foreign Office, and Colonial Office for comments. Newsam noted that the response had been positive and a draft could be shared with American military leaders in London.33 Eleven days later, the circular was presented to Lieutenant General Dwight D. Eisenhower, commanding general of the US Army in the European Theater of Operations (ETO).
American Officials: Discrimination Should “Be Sedulously Avoided”
Frank Newsam’s August 31, 1942, letter to Eisenhower, the highest-ranking US official in the ETO, was framed as a courtesy before the informational circular went to the country’s constables and police departments. But rather than raising the worries over biracial births, the dangers of street fracases, or fears of building resentments among British civilians, Newsam instead used an incident in Liverpool among white American seamen, African American troops, and British women to explain why UK officials felt strongly about enforcing their country’s policy of nondiscrimination in public places. He noted that police had separated the military men and the women, telling all three parties it was for their own good, particularly because of objections from white American troops. According to Newsam, “The coloured soldiers resented being spoken to on this matter by the British police, and one of them replied: ‘It is not democracy if we cannot do what we like.’”34 Newsam told Eisenhower he felt the general should know about the difficult position British police officers were facing and suggested that it would be helpful to know the US government’s approach to matters between its service members and UK civilians so that an acceptable policy for British soldiers could be developed.35
Brigadier General John E. Dahlquist, Eisenhower’s acting chief of staff, responded three days later. He wrote, “The Commanding general is in complete accord with the instructions the Home Office proposes to issue. This policy of non-discrimination is exactly the policy which has always been followed by the United States Army.”36 He also noted that US Army policy required that if a particular place was “out of bounds” for some US soldiers, it was “out of bounds” for all.37
Indeed, shortly after the arrival of African American troops to the British Isles, the US Army’s Adjutant General’s Office issued what it called a “Policy on Negroes”38 that gave commanding officers responsibility for maintaining peaceful race relations among their troops. At Eisenhower’s command, Lieutenant Colonel Fred A. Meyer, the assistant adjutant general, wrote: “It is the desire of this Headquarters that discrimination against the Negro troops be sedulously avoided.”39 Although Eisenhower and the Adjutant General’s Office were aware that commanders of white and African American soldiers stationed near smaller towns might have trouble offering equal accommodations, particularly where social events were concerned, the commanders were expected to “use their best judgment” to avoid racial discrimination and to minimize friction between white and black soldiers.40 Clearly, US Headquarters Command expected each commander to ensure that his troops behaved.
US military officials’ concerns about race relations did not end with introductory pamphlets for troops to life in wartime Britain. European Theater of Operations, US Army (or ETOUSA) also issued a memorandum to commanders and leaders of African American troops explaining the sensitivity of the issue, noting that one in ten American soldiers were minorities and that discriminatory practices “have no place in our army life.”41 The memo argued that, in the name of military efficiency, team work would be required of everyone and noted that Eisenhower sincerely hoped that “every soldier returning to the homeland, will take back this comradeship, mutual respect, and the spirit of helpfulness developed during his service with us.”42 The memorandum concluded by announcing that Brigadier General Benjamin O. Davis Sr., who at the time was the US Army’s only African American general officer, had been tasked with commanding a special section responsible for investigating and “adjusting problems which may arise in connection with the command and leadership of our colored troops.”43
Citizens of Northern Ireland soon developed a preference among American troops. One Northern Ireland member of Parliament, Dame Dehra Parker, noted in a letter to Robert Gransden, the assistant secretary to the cabinet secretariat, that in her district of Money-more “the coloured men are well looked after.”44 In fact, she stated, the African American troops were perhaps better looked after than their white compatriots in towns west of Belfast. She added: “Apart from the feelings of the troops concerned, the whole situation is bad. Our people do not understand and seem to prefer the black to the white. I am told that this applies particularly to the R.C. [Roman Catholic] population and of course—the lowest class of white girl.”45 Parker’s comments reinforced some of the primary fears that British officials had expressed throughout the summer of 1942.
However, unlike officials in Whitehall who feared illegitimate biracial births and the social consequences of intimacy with African American troops, Parker’s comments about the preferences for African American troops hinted at a more serious concern exclusive to Northern Ireland: the unwavering tension between Catholics and Protestants. Historian Simon Topping has argued it was the disparity in the treatment of Irish Catholics by their unionist government that prompted many citizens in Northern Ireland to defy Stormont and make friends with African American troops—knowing full well that officials in Westminster disapproved of such behavior.46
Exercising “Great Discretion”
On August 21, 1942, Belfast newspaper editors were called into a meeting with Stormont officials and British Troops Northern Ireland Lieutenant Colonel Turnham to discuss steps US commanders were taking to encourage a better understanding of the British troops and the differences in prevailing attitudes toward African Americans. Based on the meeting minutes, British officials were clearly convinced that it was more of a matter of when—and less of a question of if—something would happen among the Americans. According to Stormont’s account of the meeting:
Col. Turnham, addressing his remarks to the editors, asked for their aid in “playing down” incidents that may occur which were not serious in themselves, but which by undue publicity could be played up by their enemies in order to strain relationships between the two countries. He states that the incidents so far reported had been handled with great discretion by the newspapers and he hopes that the authorities could depend on the newspapers to use their influence to foster good relations between the two Forces.47
Turnham argued that since little was happening on the battlefront, Belfast readers would be more focused on inconsequential incidents that might spring up between Allied forces, but that “when the war activity became more marked” such attention would lessen.48
According to Mick Temple, British wartime censorship was more severe than America’s.49 Where American editors and publishers agreed to a “voluntary domestic censorship,”50 the British press saw the war bring “a great self-abnegation of power by the Press.”51 It was common for British officials to ask newspapers to temper their news stories. Such was the case during the August 21, 1942, meeting. Stormont officials later reported that the journalists present agreed to do what they could to “encourage a better understanding between the two Forces,” and agreed to be discreet with stories involving conflicts among the troops.52 This resolve was tested a month later.
The First Casualty
US Private William C. Jenkins was the first casualty of racial unrest. He died of knife wounds on the evening of September 30, 1942, in Antrim. The incident involved all the hallmarks of future incidents between African American and white US troops in the United Kingdom: the deadly mixing of alcohol, prejudice, and white military police. On October 1 the Belfast Telegraph ran a nine-paragraph story on page three, sandwiched between articles about the Russians advancing to Stalingrad and a shooting incident involving the Irish Republican Army in Belfast.53
The Telegraph noted that Jenkins, an African American, was “stabbed to death during a disturbance in the streets of Antrim about nine o’clock on Wednesday night.”54 An unnamed, white soldier was also injured. Jenkins was among a group of American soldiers who “came under the notice of a US military patrol.” When the MPs ordered the men to return to camp, the newspaper reported, the soldiers refused, and a “disturbance ensued” that resulted in gunfire. Once calm was restored, Jenkins was discovered “lying in a pool of blood, knifed to death.”55 The Telegraph quoted an ETOUSA press release that admitted several shots had been fired but noted that Ulster civilians were not involved. The only time race was mentioned was in reporting who was injured. The story did not use racial identifiers for the other soldiers, neither those ordered back to their barracks nor the MPs.
A day later, the Irish News published a five-paragraph story on the bottom right-hand corner of the front page with an all-caps headline: “AMERICAN SOLDIER KILLED IN ANTRIM STREET FRACAS.”56 The Irish News led with a verbatim republishing of the US military’s description. The Press Association had learned that “the U.S. soldier killed was a negro, while the wounded soldier is a white man.”57 The Irish News also reported the incident occurred outside an Antrim pub, which is where Jenkins and the group of men were approached by MPs. Again, racial descriptors were missing from the rest of the account.
The wires allowed the Belfast News-Letter’s report to be nearly identical. A subheadline, “Closing Time,” indicated the incident occurred as the pub closed.58 The extent of the white soldier’s injuries remained unclear. The story did not state whether his wounds were from a knife or a gun. Neither soldier was named. In any case, no coroner’s inquest was expected.59 None of the Northern Ireland newspapers editorialized about the incident. Instead, their editorials focused on House of Commons debates over relaxing travel limitations between Britain and Northern Ireland,60 and the latest from the Eighth Army’s fight in Egypt against Rommel.61
Among mainland British newspapers, only the (London) Times reported the Antrim incident. The two-paragraph brief, headlined “U.S. Soldier Killed in Antrim,” appeared on October 2, at the bottom of page two.62 From the wording, the Times likely put the piece together from a wire story and the October 1 ETOUSA press release. Both noted that there had been a “disturbance in the streets of Antrim” between American MPs and soldiers.63 The brief reported that shots were fired, one soldier died from knife wounds, and another was seriously injured. The incident was exclusive to US troops and no civilians were involved. There is no acknowledgement of race, nor any mention of the pub and the possible role that alcohol might have played. On the Times’s editorial page, writers pontificated on anxiety over coal supplies and disunity in India.64
News Crosses the Atlantic
News of the Antrim incident traveled quickly. The New York Times, Washington Post, and Detroit Free Press reported the incident on October 2—the same day as the (London) Times. The Chicago Daily Tribune reported it a week later. Among mainstream US newspapers examined, these four alone reported the first major racial incident among deployed US troops. Three of the four noted the racial identity of the men involved.
Under a headline declaring: “U.S. Soldier Killed in Brawl in Ireland,” the New York Times noted in the subhead that an African American soldier was stabbed to death during an altercation where military police were involved.65 The six-paragraph story ran down-page on page three. An African American soldier had been stabbed to death and a white US soldier seriously injured when MPs “had to use force to break up a brawl outside a pub in the village of Antrim.”66 Witnesses reported multiple shots fired, prompting residents to flee. The Times reported that several soldiers were arrested. “The argument was reported to have started as Negro troops left the pub. The military police rushed up, but the Negroes refused to disperse and the police were forced to draw their revolvers.”67 The story concluded with the ETOUSA statement, noting that civilians were not injured in the incident and that military officials did not acknowledge the races of soldiers involved—or the role race might have played. The Times did not identify either soldier.
That same day, the Washington Post ran only a two-paragraph brief on page four. The last brief in half a column of “War Sidelights,” “Yank Killed in Ireland”68 did not mention race, only that one US soldier was “stabbed to death and another shot seriously in an altercation with military police in the streets of Antrim.”69 The Detroit Free Press ran a page two brief, declaring: “Yankee Soldier Dies in Irish Brawl.”70 The lead sentence noted an African American soldier had died and a white American soldier was seriously injured after US military police “had to use force to break up a brawl” outside an Antrim pub.71 The short story also noted that several American soldiers were arrested in connection with the incident but did not identify either the soldier who was killed or the one who was injured.
Around the time of the incident, the Chicago Daily Tribune reported how British girls between the ages of thirteen and sixteen were throwing themselves at US, Canadian, and “other overseas troops” stationed in Great Britain, but made no mention of the Antrim incident.72 It would be a full week before the Tribune reported on it, and only in a single paragraph on page nineteen. The Associated Press was the first to publish the name of the dead soldier. “United States army headquarters disclosed today that the Negro soldier killed Sept. 30 in a street fight . . . was Pvt. William Jenkins.”73 The other new information: Jenkins was from Evansville, Indiana.
Same Story, Different Approach
The Pittsburgh Courier, Chicago Defender, and the (Baltimore) Afro-American, all weeklies, just missed getting the news into their papers the first weekend in October. The Courier and the Defender both reported the story on October 10; the Afro-American followed a week later. And while all three black presses used wire services—either the Associated Negro Press (ANP) or the National Negro Publishers Association because the news organizations were banned from membership in mainstream wire services such as the AP—the manner in which the news was reported varied.74
For readers of the Courier, the headline: “Soldier Killed in Ireland,” in extra bold font, dominated page twenty-two, despite being below the fold and only three paragraphs long.75 Flanked at top and bottom with the Courier’s Double Victory campaign “VV,” the unidentified wire report is nearly identical to the UP’s wire story that appeared in the New York Times. But where the Times used the term “Negro,”76 the Courier used “colored.”77 Courier editors also omitted the direct quote from ETOUSA. While the paper did include the fact that no civilians were injured, it did not identify which black press wire service provided the story.
The Defender relied on ANP for a page two brief with the bold headline: “Soldier Slain during Knife Fight in Eire.”78 But the story was vague. It stated: “One Negro soldier was stabbed to death Wednesday night and another sustained serious gunshot wounds after military police used force to quell a fight outside of a pub (tavern) in the village of Antrim.”79 The wire brief contained the same details published by other newspapers but omitted racial identifiers and names.
A week later, the Defender ran another ANP story, this time confirming the soldier’s death by stabbing and naming him as Pvt. William Jenkins of Evansville, Indiana.80 The story also offered more details: “Trouble is said to have started in a pub (tavern) between soldiers who had been drinking there. They moved out to the street and continued the argument.”81 When MPs attempted to break up the argument, violence broke out and “Jenkins was killed in the melee.”82
The Afro-American was the last of the black newspapers examined for this study to report the incident. The October 17 page three story was nearly identical to the Defender’s but did not call the fight a melee. Instead, “Pvt. Jenkins was the victim of knife wounds.”83 The role of race was not mentioned, although the influence of alcohol as a potential accelerant was retained. The only other mention of the incident was an October 17 front page story by Ollie Stewart, who had attended a press conference by Brigadier General Benjamin O. Davis Sr. As the US Army’s only African American general officer, Davis had been tasked just a month earlier with overseeing race issues in the ETOUSA after conducting similar inspection tours of African American troop conditions in basic training camps and army installations across the United States during the first half of 1942.
Davis Gets “a Rather Tough Assignment”
General Davis arrived at ETOUSA Headquarters in late September 1942 to serve as an adviser to the army’s Service of Supplies commander, Major General John C. H. Lee. Davis’s appointment created a stir in both the American mainstream and black press alike. Newspapers that failed to report the Antrim incident were keen to publish stories about how the nation’s only African American general was now in the United Kingdom and tasked with overseeing African American soldiers stationed there.84 That Davis’s appointment was news demonstrated the importance of his assignment, and the magnitude of the work was not lost on him. On September 30, Davis wrote his wife, Sadie: “I have received a rather tough assignment. I have had to be firm in several instances. I think my action is effective. Some of the folks in addition to being inexperienced appear to be afraid. . . . These troops, white and black of the Service of Supply have to work very hard. I am afraid that they are not sufficiently hardened and disciplined.”85
Davis was in England only a matter of days when the Antrim incident prompted a personal visit to Northern Ireland, where he conducted the army’s official investigation. Historian Marvin E. Fletcher noted:
He talked with American soldiers and policemen and Irish civilians. The news of Davis’s work quickly reached the American black press, whose members were able to reassure their readers that Davis was on the scene, investigating problems. After finishing his work, he left for England on the evening of 8 October . . . he submitted a report to General Lee on the murder of the black soldier. The SOS commander was impressed with the work and asked Davis to accompany him on another inspection tour.86
Davis’s inspection tour of the Northern Ireland operations and subsequent investigation into the murder of Private Jenkins was significant because it, in part, demonstrated that US military leaders were aware of how volatile race relations were. It also revealed that Eisenhower and his staff were proactive, rather than reactive, regarding the Antrim matter.
The timeline of Davis’s arrival counters historians such as Simon Topping and Graham Smith, who have argued that he was dispatched to Britain because of the incident.87 Davis’s high-profile position made him the de facto contact person for all things race-related during the war—both in the United States and on the British Isles.88 While in Britain, Davis received numerous letters from American and British citizens regarding race and race relations. For example, one British woman expressed her perplexity on October 25, 1942, asking how white American soldiers could be so “unchristian” and “impertinent” as to dictate who their British hosts could and could not entertain.89 Miss M. Lyall also asked Davis to explain his country’s position on race relations. She wrote: “I have never been able to understand the American attitude to ‘color.’ Racial prejudice is an evil, wicked thing.”90 Lyall’s letter is telling, in that it demonstrates and helps explain the growing frustration among British citizens, as early as October 1942, over the US Army’s handling of African American soldiers. Lyall’s frank correspondence also demonstrates how clearly America’s ally understood and acknowledged the duplicity in what US leaders said versus the policies they implemented—even if Americans were blind to the problems such policies were causing.
Conclusion
Race, virtually from the onset of the US troops’ deployment, was of great concern among both British and American officials. But the reasons for concern were different. For British officials, race relations were an added layer of nuance that began with general consternation over the differences between the two nations and their troops. American soldiers came to the British Isles better dressed, better paid, and better supplied in terms of food and war materiel. These facts—combined with the romantic notions fed to British society through Hollywood films—meant that jealousy on the part of British soldiers would inevitably spark conflicts.91 Adding to the concern were men acting out of line merely because it was wartime and they were far from home. One British woman, in a letter to a friend, wrote: “Things are getting pretty bad in Bedford. The Yankees are molesting and beating up no end of girls, and getting a really bad name for themselves.”92
Racial differences only added to British officials’ worries, particularly where their womenfolk were concerned. Fears of a sudden influx of illegitimate, mixed-race war babies prompted the Home Office to launch a word-of-mouth campaign among women’s groups urging British women to avoid intimate relationships with American troops—particularly African American soldiers. British officials also struggled to explain the American attitude toward race to a nation that had little exposure to people of African or Caribbean descent. This difficulty was only complicated by Britain’s vast empire, where the overwhelming majority of inhabitants were people of color.
American officials were keenly aware of the potential problems. As early as 1940, President Roosevelt, hoping to appease the African American population and garner votes, appointed Judge William Hastie, the dean of Howard University’s law school, as a civilian aide to Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson.93 Two years later, Eisenhower appointed Davis commander of a special section in the Inspector General’s Office tasked with investigating and “adjusting problems which may arise in connection with the command and leadership of our colored troops.”94
Eisenhower, meanwhile, believed that military discipline enforced by a capable army officer corps could ensure that American soldiers would put their racial differences aside for the greater good. Further, he was naively convinced that “every soldier returning to the homeland” would bring with “this comradeship, mutual respect, and the spirit of helpfulness developed during his service with us.”95 But Eisenhower’s dream was ahead of its time.96 And it was an unachievable goal for Northern Ireland in 1942.
In terms of media reporting, several trends emerged. The Belfast Telegraph was the first publication to name the victim. It would be a full week before other newspapers did so—and only after ETOUSA released it in a statement. The Telegraph thereby demonstrated the most independence by investigating the incident. This was a bold move given Turnham’s request to the Northern Ireland press just two weeks earlier urging editors to exercise discretion in news stories. The Telegraph essentially defied him by demonstrating the hallmarks of a free press. Meanwhile, the Irish News—which did not send editors to the Stormont meeting—only published the ETOUSA press release verbatim and, like other British papers, avoided racial identifiers.
In terms of the American black press, Defender correspondent George Padmore wrote a front-page column addressing his concerns about race relations among Americans troops. Padmore’s censored dispatch reported: “More and more each day the entire question of race prejudice and U.S. pressure to extend discrimination to the British Isles is coming realistically to the fore here.”97 While his column was not unlike others in competing newspapers, Padmore was tongue in cheek when he noted: “While yet no official ruling has been made to lay off color bar difficulties, the trouble I have experienced in transmitting such information clearly indicates that the subject is disliked.”98 Padmore’s commentary makes one wonder how much of the wire services’ downplaying the racial tensions was a result of censorship, rather than ETOUSA controlling information.
Newspapers were at the mercy of censors and the military. Local newspapers demonstrated greater independence, including conducting investigations. Another lesson was that, unlike the American press, which was heavily divided along racial lines, British newspapers saw “American” as a racial identifier. To the British press the term American clearly meant both ethnicity and race.