When an all-Black truck regiment was stationed in the
village, residents refused to accept the segregation ingrained in the U.S.
Army. Ignoring pressure from British and American authorities, pubs welcomed
the GIs, local women chatted and danced with them, and English soldiers drank
alongside men they saw as allies in the war against fascism.
But simmering tensions between Black soldiers and white
military police exploded on June 24, 1943, when a dispute outside a pub
escalated into a night of gunfire and rebellion that left Private William
Crossland dead and dozens of soldiers from the truck regiment facing court
martial. When Crossland’s niece learned about the circumstances of her uncle’s
death from an Associated Press reporter, she called for a new investigation to
uncover exactly how he died.
The community has chosen to focus on its stand against
segregation as it commemorates the 80th anniversary of what’s now known as the
Battle of Bamber Bridge and America reassesses its past treatment of Black men
and women in the armed forces.
“I think maybe it’s a sense of pride that there was no
bigotry towards (the soldiers),” said Valerie Fell, who was just 2 in 1943 but
whose family ran Ye Olde Hob Inn, the 400-year-old thatched-roof pub where the
conflict started. “They deserved the respect of the uniform that they were
wearing. … That’s how people felt about it.”
That was in stark contrast to the treatment Black soldiers
received in the wartime Army, which was still segregated by law.
The men of the 1511th Quartermaster Truck Regiment
(Aviation) stationed at Bamber Bridge complained that they received poor food
and often had to sleep in their trucks when they stopped at white bases,
according to evidence presented during the court martial proceedings. They also
said white military police harassed Black troops, hassling them for minor
transgressions that were often ignored for other soldiers.
EXPORTING SEGREGATION
Black soldiers accounted for about 10% of the American
troops who flooded into Britain during the war. Serving in segregated units led
by white officers, most were relegated to non-combat roles such as driving
trucks that delivered supplies to military bases.
U.S. authorities tried to extend those policies beyond their
bases, asking pubs and restaurants to separate the races.
Bamber Bridge, then home to about 6,800 people, wasn’t the
only British community to resist this pressure. In a country that was almost
entirely white, there was no tradition of segregation, and after four years of
war people welcomed any help they received from overseas.
What’s different about Bamber Bridge is the desire of local
people to preserve this story and pass it on to others, said Alan Rice,
co-director of the Institute for Black Atlantic Research at the University of
Central Lancashire.
“If we’re going to have a fight against racism or fascism,
these are the stories we need to talk about,” Rice said. “If you’re fighting
fascism, which these people were, it’s ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous, that
the U.S. Army (were) encouraging a form of fascism — segregation.”
Clinton Smith, head of the Black history group in nearby
Preston, was among those who revived interest in the Battle of Bamber Bridge in
the 1980s when he discovered bullet holes in the side of a bank and started asking
long-time residents what had happened.
That helped attract wider interest, with local blogger Derek
Rogerson publishing a short book, “The Battle of Bamber Bridge: The True
Story,” that includes photos of Black troops hosting a Christmas party for village
children and watching movies with kids perched on their laps. A filmmaker,
Danny Lyons, compiled oral histories.
Last year, the local government council installed a plaque
outside the Hob Inn that outlines the community’s relationship with the soldiers,
the violence and its aftermath.
The story “just can’t be allowed to wither on the vine,”
Smith said. “As much as it’s withered, we’re just now trying to rejuvenate it
whilst maintaining the accuracy.”
THE BATTLE OF BAMBER BRIDGE
Despite their friendships with the GIs, villagers weren’t
able to head off the violence when Black soldiers, frustrated by their
treatment and angry about news of race riots in Detroit, faced off with
military police outfitted with batons and sidearms.
On that hot June night, Private Eugene Nunn was sitting at
the Hob Inn bar when a white military police officer threatened to arrest him
for wearing the wrong uniform. British soldiers and civilians intervened.
“Everyone was saying, ‘Leave him alone. He just wants a
drink. It’s a hot day,”’ Fell said as she recounted her mother’s story. “People
just didn’t understand this viciousness.’’
When Nunn left the pub, the police were waiting. Tempers
rose. A bottle smashed against the windshield of the police Jeep. Things
escalated from there.
It wasn’t until 4 a.m. that order was restored. Military
authorities sought severe penalties to head off unrest at other bases.
Thirty-seven Black soldiers were charged with mutiny, riot
and unlawful possession of weapons, and some 30 were convicted on some or all
of the charges. Most received sentences of between three and 15 years in
prison, combined with loss of pay and dishonorable discharges. As the allies
prepared for the D-Day landings, many of the sentences were shortened to time
served so the men could be cycled back into the war effort.
While the court martial criticized the white officers for
poor leadership, the records give no indication that either they or the military
police were disciplined.
LONGSTANDING CHANGE
Ken Werrell, a U.S. Air Force Academy graduate and retired
professor of history at Radford University in Virginia, studied the court
martial proceedings and reviewed other military records for an article published
in 1975.
The documents show the accused were badly treated, Werrell
told The Associated Press.
But the broader story is that senior generals, focused on
improving morale and performance, quickly ordered changes in the treatment of
Black troops. Many of the officers commanding Black units were replaced,
additional recreation facilities were provided and the army deployed more
racially mixed military police patrols.
“In this way, the Bamber Bridge affair was more than just a
minor incident in World War II,” Werrell wrote. “It was one of a number of
incidents in the Black’s and America’s continuing crusade for freedom.”
President Harry Truman in 1948 ordered the end of
segregation in the U.S. military, though it took years to fully achieve that
goal. Lloyd Austin, a Black man and retired four-star general in the Army, is
now secretary of defense.
That progress was too late for Crossland, a former railroad
worker was 25 when he died. Evidence in the court martial proceedings provided
little detail on how he was killed, saying only that he was found gravely
injured with a bullet near his heart. Officers said they believed he had been
caught in cross-fire between two groups of Black soldiers.
Investigators placed most of the blame for the violence on
the Black soldiers, describing them as a “mob” that was “determined on revenge
at any cost,” according to reports submitted during the court martial
proceedings. But locals say they knocked on doors and told people to stay
inside to avoid getting hurt.
RE-ASSESSING HISTORY
Nancy Croslan Adkins, the daughter of one of William’s
brothers, said she was never told about the circumstances of her uncle’s death.
The family later changed the spelling of its last name.
Adkins, of Upper Marlboro, Maryland, wants to know more
about what happened at Bamber Bridge.
“Having dealt with direct discrimination myself by
integrating the school system in North Carolina, and the racial injustice that
my parents faced, I would love an investigation,” she said.
Aaron Snipe, the spokesman for the U.S. Embassy in London,
said he couldn’t prejudge any military decision, but President Joe Biden’s
administration has shown a willingness to “right the wrongs of the past.”
The U.S. Navy earlier this month issued a formal apology to
the families of 15 Black sailors who were dishonorably discharged in 1940 after
complaining that they were forced to serve as mess attendants who made beds and
waited on tables. Earlier this month, the Army renamed a base for William Henry
Johnson, a Black soldier who was awarded the Medal of Honor, the nation’s
highest military award, almost a century after he was wounded 21 times while
beating back attacking forces during World War I.
Snipe also said he planned to pay tribute to the people of
Bamber Bridge at an 80th anniversary event.
“Part of this story is about their unwillingness to accept
segregation orders or regulations that were pushed on them,” he said. “They
pushed back … at a time where it might have been more convenient for local
folks to just go along with what the United States, the United States military,
had said. They’re to be commended for that.” -AP