Greeting Card

Greeting Card

1962

Anderson, Trezzvant W.

Trezzvant W. Anderson papers

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Atlanta University Center Robert W. Woodruff Library

Anderson, Trezzvant W.; United States. Army. Tank Battalion, 761st; Veterans--United States

Greeting cards

1962

“Lest We Forget”
They gave their lives that others might live...that is true of our comrades of the 761st Tank Battalion who, a mere five years ago, were giving their lives on foreign soil. Now, five years later, some of our comrades are again making the great sacrifice in Korea. We salute them during the anniversary of snow-filled Christmas battle at Sarre-Union in France, and a New Year rendezvous with death in “The Bulge” in Belgium. Lest we forget...that we are not alone in our sacrifices and that it takes ALL of us to make a winning team...we dedicate this story of two men who were NOT up front. We dedicate it to our former comrades of the 761st and their fellows, now “somewhere in Korea”: Maj. Richard Williams, M/Sgt. Louis M. Daniels, T/Sgt. William Griffin, Sgt. Austin C. Jackson and others again bringing glory to the name of the 761st...and Captain Leonard P. Taylor, our Battalion Adjutant, who died of leukemia in Savannah, Ga. this month...one whom we all knew and loved.
Trezzvant W. Anderson,
President, 761st Tank Battalion Ass’n.
19 Mercer Street,
Pittsburgh 19, Pa.
THIRD RE-UNION, DETROIT, MICH., AUG. 24, 25, 26, 1951
TEISENDORF, Germany (Oct. 31, 1945) – The snows are capping the tops of the beautiful Bavarian Alps, here in the heart of the Tyrol, where the veteran 761st Tank Battalion is doing occupation, and a thrilling scene lays before my eyes. The sun is shining and it is beautiful here, but my heart is not remotely concerned with that.
Out of the welter of historical data that surrounds the deeds of the Negro soldiers in Europe in World War II, there are just two incidents which focus themselves into my mental perspective today, and I cannot resist the impulse to write about it, so that the world may know of two incidents, concerning two Negro soldiers (and gentlemen) who were part of the forces in the European Theatre of Operations. Both are dead!
On the field of battle, out in “No Man’s Land,” many men gave their lives and many Negroes fell to the bullets of the enemy. Many heroes were made by the valiant work of combat troops who took all the enemy could offer, and then some, and they got Silver Stars, Bronze Stars, D.S.C.’s. But there was no greater contribution made during this war, in its scope than the contributions made by these two Negro soldiers who died, without the accolade of the crowds, with no formal ceremonies to mark their passing, only simple graves on a foreign soil.
But each one of them was a great man in his own field, and the American Negroes should know about these two men, each of whom made his contribution in his own way, and that contribution was of a far more valuable benefit to the soldiers around them, than any individual performance which either of them could have displayed on the battlefield.
The first of the two men is the late Pvt. JOHN S. KINLOCH of 4075 South Central Avenue, Los Angeles, Calif., former Managing Editor of The CALIFORNIA EAGLE and nephew of Mrs. Carlotta Bass, the publisher of that newspaper.
JOHN was my friend and comrade, a fellow-craftsman, who was the most excellent in his capacity as a newspaperman, and was so acclaimed by all those who came into contact with him during his journalistic work in the European Theatre of Operations, where he served as an Army Correspondent at the Normandy Base Section Headquarters, at Cherbourg, France. But JOHN did not die at his copy desk, with reams of copy before him, awaiting the skilled touch of clever fingers, and the agile adjustment which his energetic newspaper mind could make on a news story, to give it that stirring color, so well liked by the U.S. reading public.
JOHN was killed in action on a battlefield in Germany, as a rifleman in that crack Negro Platoon of Company G, of the 39th Infantry Regiment of the Ninth Infantry Division, which won the prize as the best drilling platoon in that entire division! He was far from his beloved typewriter when the bullets of an enemy machine gun cut him down, as he fired his M-1 against the hated Nazis! There is a great story behind his death, and how he came to be there, and that story forms the basis of my contention that JOHN’S contribution to the war was one of the most outstanding examples of self-sacrifices ever displayed by mortal man, in that he made his supreme sacrifice because he was loyal to his ideals of his duty to his Race, and his country!
JOHN KINLOCH KNEW, even as did I myself, that the role of the Negro soldier in this war was going to be given scant and casual attention and treatment by those charged with the responsibility of disseminating to the public the activities in the news of the American Negro soldier. WHY JOHN KINLOCH knew this is another story, and the part which HE played in overcoming the obstacles which prevented fuller light being shed on the part being played by the Negro soldier as an integral part of the American Army in Europe resulted in his being killed on the field of battle, NOT AS A NEWSPAPERMAN (WHICH HE REALLY WAS), but as an infantryman, firing the M-1 rifle, which any other soldier could have fired, for it was a simple matter of getting the proper sight-picture over the peep—sight on the end of the barrel, and then squeezing the trigger.
The Army could have put any other Negro soldier from any port battalion, quartermaster unit, engineer outfit, or service company on that job. But the Army would have had a heluva time putting another soldier at JOHN KINLOCH’S desk to knock out the brilliant news stories which featured his service at the Public Relations Office of the Normany Base Section Headquarters!
But JOHN KINLOCH and I had a conference back in Paris in November, 1944, when it was evident that we Army correspondents were not going to get into ground force area without great difficulty, (thanks to Lieut.-Gen. John C.H. Lee) and we decided to do something about it.
If those responsible for the proper dissemination of news about our boys would not make arrangements satisfactory to provide this: WE OURSELVES WOULD TRANSFER TO THE HARDEST FIGHTING FRONT-LINE UNITES WITH NEGRO FIGHTERS, AND THEN WE WOULD BE SURE THAT, AT LEAST, THE SINGLE OUTFIT THAT WE WERE WITH WOULD BE PROPERLY COVERED FROM A NEWS STANDPOINT! I, Anderson, chose the 761st Tank Battalion because it was doing the roughest fighting of any Negro unit on the Western Front; JOHN KINLOCH chose the infantry and we finally got transferred into them! JOHN lost his life on the field of battle, fighting for his country. I was more fortunate, as I am still alive.
But, before JOHN cashed in his chips, he got out of his big story...the first stories of the work of the famous Negro platoon of “Company G, 39th Regiment, Ninth Infantry Division,” and got their pictures into YANK, the Army magazine! And, then, fulfilling his T/O job as a rifleman, he went forth to the field of battle, and did his duty there, giving his life in the performance of that duty!
Perhaps no marble statue will adorn the resting place of JOHN KINLOCH’S body, but he rates one. For he was one of the very few Negro correspondents...civilian or military...who was willing to go “all the way” in the carrying out of the ideals that inspired him to his great sacrifice. A brilliant young man, and a great soldier. Someday ALL of the story behind JOHN KINLOCH’S being in the infantry may be told. And then the Negro Race will be proud of this young man, this young Army Correspondent, who gave his life on the battlefield WHERE THE NEWS WAS, and not from the elegant recesses of a swank hotel many miles behind the front lines, describing front-line action from some communique based upon the report of men like himself!
***
The second man made his contribution in a far different, but no less effective, manner. He was Sgt. NELSON BRYAN of West 149th Street, New York City, who was formerly hot-trumpet man with Lucky Millinder’s great orchestra, before he entered the armed services. NELSON was killed in an auto accident in September, 1945, in Germany, while a member of the 847th Engineer Aviation Battalion.
The story about BRYAN? Well, last year, 1944, back in England, I wrote and produced two shows for the 923rd Aviation Engineer Regiment to which BRYAN’S battalion belonged. In these two shows I had two orchestras. One of them was BRYAN’S now-famous “RIO RITA” Orchestra, and we had such performers as Jimmy Daniels, owner of “Jimmy Daniels, Inc.” New York Café Society nite club, like Ike Baker, former member of “The Three Blue Jackets,” and other top flighters. On one occasion our show raised more than 25,000 pounds (about $100,000) for an English “Salute the Soldier Week” Fund.
Well, we came to the Continent. Here, I consolidated the best features of the two shows into one grand fast-moving hot deluxe show, and we hit the boards for the First Tactical Air Force, then commanded by Maj. Gen. RALPH ROYCE, and also put on shows for the Headquarters of Gen. JACOB DEVERS’ Sixth Army Group. It was BRYAN who paced the band, and was the star performer in his thrilling rendition of Hoagy Carmichael’s immortal “Stardust,” and “I’m Confessin’ That I love You,” as the piece de resistance. That show was known as “The Harlem Express,” and we had men from Millinder, Harlan Leonard, Lester Young, Les Hite, and other great bands, and it was an A-1 show in all respects.
We hit the Sixth Army Group area during the bitter month of January, just after the Germans had shoved the Seventh Army back along its front in the Vosges Mountains of Alsace-Lorraine. We hit the hospitals, and broadcasted from Dijon. We played before thousands, and Nelson Bryan’s great contribution was the heart-throbbing happiness which settled into the souls of the thousands of sick and wounded soldiers of the Seventh Army, as his tender tones, and the mellow notes of his golden trumpet, carried them back home into their own firesides, and the warm comfortable night clubs which spelled for them AMERICA itself!.
And their wounds were less painful; their sickness was less misery to them, and their hearts were lighter and gayer, because this dusky huge American artist had come to them, bringing them the warm spirit of their own native land, htere amid the ice and snow that was Alsac-Lorraine in January. Cripples on crutches seemed less like cripples; men with bodies racked with pain seemed more cheerful, and they even attempted to do a sort of “jitterbug” as the great orchestra, guided by NELSON BRYAN, transported them back home to AMERICA.
That was HIS contribution, not in one place alone, but in many places, and wherever we went, the acclaim of the vast crowds was sweet music to our ears, and we got a thrill out of it, because we knew that we were doing “something for the boys.” And then we didn’t mind the long rides in that cold six-by-six truck in the show, with no fire, and the poor accommodations for sleep and food with which we had to content ourselves.
BRYAN would have made a good sailor, for he was a great “cusser” and could say those words so fervently. But his work of bringing cheer into the hearts of battle-weary Americans of both races, was a great inspiration, and everywhere it was: “When are you coming back?”
Well, NELSON was killed in an auto accident, not on the stage to which he was no stranger, and the news of his passing spread like wild-fire, and left a great tinge of sadness and depression all over his comrades, friends and acquaintances. A great guy was gone!
***
They were both my friends, and my intimate associates, and each, in his own field, made a great contribution to the war, because WHAT HE DID gave to other soldiers, thousands of them, the inspiration, and the will to carry on, and to back to the field of battle and fight the enemy harder and harder. That they didn’t actually kill thousands of Germans themselves is of little consequence, but the fact that it was what they did that helped OTHER American soldiers to have the courage and desire and inspiration to kill thousands of Germans, which helped shorten the War in Europe!
Sing a hymn of praise for JOHN S. KINLOCH and NELSON BRYAN, two great Negro heroes of this war, who like hundreds of others, passed into oblivion, minus the glamor of the front-page, and the thrilling radio descriptions of their brilliant combat achievements, for the were HEROES!
TREZZVANT W. ANDERSON.