Valor Friday

It’s been a long time since I talked about Doris Miller, a mess steward who rose to fame and everlasting glory as a hero of the day on 7 Dec 1941. Miller, untrained in the operation of an anti-aircraft gun, took the weapon and fired at the Japanese during their surprise attack on his ship USS West Virginia, anchored in Pearl Harbor. He was the first black recipient of the Navy Cross, the second-highest award for combat gallantry.

Today I’m going to talk about the heroism of another Pacific Fleet black messman, Charles Jackson French. As with Miller, French’s bravery was celebrated at the time, though mostly in the black press. Unlike Miller, French was not honored with any awards or decorations save a commendation letter from Admiral Halsey (which got a major key detail wrong at that). Many decades after his death, French received the Navy and Marine Corps Medal. This is the non-combat equivalent of the Navy Cross and the highest award for non-combat heroism.

How did French become a celebrated and then forgotten war hero? I’m sure his race had something to do with it. That he died fairly young also played a role. Thankfully, his sacrifice is creating a legacy. The Navy announced on 10 Jan 2024 that they would be commissioning an Arleigh Burke-Class guided missile destroyer in his name.

French, along with his sister Viola, was an orphan. They hailed from the small rural Arkansas town of Foreman. It was there, in the Red River, that the young man learned to swim. This became a critical skill for the future sailor. French followed his older sister when she relocated to Omaha when he was still a boy.

French first enlisted into the US Navy in 1937, when he was 18 years old. This meant that his first enlistment ended in 1941, months before the US would enter World War II. Leaving the Navy, he went to live with Viola in Omaha, Nebraska.

When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, French was among the hundreds of thousands of young Americans to immediately head for the recruiter’s office. His re-enlistment was dated 19 Dec 1941, just 12 days after the day “which will live in infamy.” He said, “I want to do my part, because I’m already trained and I can start right away.”

French, a Navy cook, was assigned to USS Gregory (APD-3). The military was still segregated at this time, and cook was one of the few jobs available to black men that would put them afloat as part of the war effort.

USS Gregory was a WWI-era destroyer. Approaching obsolescence as the next war loomed on the horizon, Gregory and several other destroyers were modified to become high speed transport ships (with the hull classification changing to APD). In this role, the ships were intended to deliver small amphibious units such as Marine Raiders or Underwater Demolition Teams to the Pacific Islands. After landing their troops, the APD could then provide supporting gunfire for the ground troops.

In the summer of 1942, Gregory and her task force were steaming towards Guadalcanal. The Invasion of Guadalcanal was the first American offensive of the Pacific War. Starting on 7 August, the battle would be a horribly bloody affair that saw the eventual defeat of the Japanese. More than 20,000 men died here, 10,000 were wounded, and both sides would lose more than 600 aircraft and scores of warships.

After landing her ground troops during the initial invasion of the island, Gregory began patrolling the waters nearby. These waters earned the sobering nickname of “Iron Bottom Sound.” The narrow sea between Guadalcanal, Savo Island, and Florida Island (pre-war known as Savo Sound) got the sobriquet from the Allied seamen for the sheer number of ships and aircraft that were send to the bottom of the ocean in the months-long naval and air battle.

For the next month, Gregory patrolled and made supply runs (consisting of both provisions and fresh troops). On the night of 4-5 September, Gregory and her sister ship USS Little (APD-4) had just landed Marine Raiders on Savo Island. The night was inky black and a haze obscured landmarks.

Gregory and Little were supposed to return to their anchorage at Tulagi, but the captains decided to remain at sea patrolling than try to negotiate the narrow sound under these conditions. Sailing between Savo and Guadalcanal, the two ships were moving at about 10 knots speed when they came across three Japanese destroyers that had just dropped their supplies and fresh troops.

The Japanese destroyers had started to fire on Henderson Field on Guadalcanal. Seeing the flashes from the enemy guns, Gregory and Little assumed they were seeing fire from a Japanese sub. As they got closer their radar returned four distinct ships, three destroyers and a cruiser.

Greatly outgunned, the two American warships were debating their next move when the option for retreat was taken from them. A US Navy plane had seen the Japanese fire from the air. They dropped several illumination flares, to identify and target the enemy. Two of the flares lit up over the American ships.

Less than five minutes had passed since first spotting the Japanese gunfire, and now Gregory and Little were being silhouetted against the pitch blackness around them. The Japanese ships immediately opened fire on the now easily visible targets.

Gregory’s skipper, Lieutenant Commander Harry Bauer, ordered all of his guns to bear. The destroyer fought valiantly, but they were no match for the much larger Japanese formation. Within three minutes Gregory was dead in the water and starting to sink. It hadn’t even been 10 minutes since the action began.

Two of Gregory’s boilers had exploded and her deck was awash with fire. Captain Bauer, himself mortally wounded, gave the order to abandon ship. He was last seen in the water, having ordered two of his men to go help a sailor screaming for help. He posthumously received the Silver Star and a promotion to commander for the action.

Of the men on the bridge of Gregory that night, only one man, Ensign Robert Adrian, survived. In total, from Gregory, 24 men died out of a crew complement of 140. USS Little also went down fighting. With the crews from the two ships in the waters, less than 30 minutes had elapsed and the Japanese ships started to shell the shipwrecked sailors that survived.

Gregory sank stern first about 0130 hours on 5 September. Little, similarly crippled early in the engagement, followed her two hours later. With the Japanese continuing to shoot at them, many of the sailors died or were seriously wounded. The blood in the water of the South Pacific archipelago attracted another enemy; sharks.

Among the Gregory survivors in the water was Charles French. Uninjured, French found a raft and started to collect wounded shipmates. He saved 15 in total, all white men. With sharks infesting the waters, the enemy on the prowl, they had to contend with one more hazard. The current was carrying them to the nearby island, which was still firmly in Japanese hands.

The Japanese held those who surrendered in low esteem. Very few Japanese troops were taken as prisoners. Very few of them surrendered, with most only being captured due to
incapacitation from wounds. Allied troops taken as prisoners were subjected to maltreatment and torture. For French and his comrades, capture was the last thing they wanted.

Ensign Adrian recalled, “I knew that if we floated ashore we’d be taken as prisoners of war. Then French volunteered to swim the raft away from shore. He asked for help to tie a rope around his waist and towed them to safety.”

Adrian tried to persuade French that he would only end up exhausted and attacked by sharks. Adrian said, “French responded that he was not afraid. He was a powerful swimmer.”

Powerful he was, but he was even more determined. French, swam. Not for an hour, carrying the weight of 15 men, but for at least six and perhaps as many as eight hours. He swam towards an American-held island until Marines in a landing craft came out to rescue them.

French’s Herculean feat of strength and raw grit deserved to be rewarded. His chain of command put him in for the Navy Cross. This wasn’t just downgraded to a lesser award, but was virtually ignored altogether. He received merely a letter of commendation from Admiral Halsey.

French wasn’t forgotten back home though. As I said, he was well regarded in the black press, who dubbed him “The Human Tugboat.” He received a hero’s welcome, including an honoring at a Creighton University football game (pictured at the top). His story was told in newspapers, magazines, comics, and even on trading cards included with chewing gum (the only black man to be featured in the set). A Pulitzer Prize-winning poet wrote a tribute. The World-Herald called him “The Hero of the Solomon Islands.”

In the decades since, his story became less and less known, to the point that you’ve probably never heard tell of his tale. Meanwhile, future President John Kennedy, who similarly saved several men from shipwreck by swimming them to safety during the war, is a well-known part of the story of JFK.

After the war, French was discharged again in 1945. He left the service as a steward’s mate first class. He married Jettie Mae, and they had a daughter. He suffered from issues of depression and alcoholism, as was common for men carrying demons inside from the war. He died on 11 November 1956 at just 37 years old. I find it poignant that he died on Veterans Day.

It’s not until just the last few years that efforts to remember and honor French have gained traction. Adrian, one of the men French rescued, spent a lengthy Navy career trying to get French his medal. Unfortunately he too passed away, in 2011, before that dream was realized.

In 2022, French was finally given a medal for his heroism, the aforementioned Navy and Marine Corps Medal. In addition to the new warship bearing his name, other federal buildings are being named in his honor. USS Charles J French is expected to be laid down in 2027 with the Navy taking delivery in 2031.

In announcing the ship’s name, Secretary of the Navy Del Toro said, “For too long, we did not recognize Petty Officer French appropriately, but we’ve begun to correct that. Today, with profound conviction and a heart brimming with long-overdue recognition, I am proud to announce the name of our newest destroyer, DDG-142, will be the USS Charles J. French.”

Category: Historical, Navy, Valor, We Remember