A Soldier's Story 1984

As the pivotal year of 1944 unfolded during World War II, Master Sergeant Vernon Waters met his untimely demise in a hail of bullets just outside Fort Neal, a segregated Army base located in Louisiana. The echoes of his heart-wrenching cry, > “No matter what you do, they still hate you!” — continue to resonate, haunting the scene where he fell victim to a .45 caliber pistol. In response to this senseless act of violence, Captain Richard Davenport, a dedicated officer from the Judge Advocate General’s Corps, was assigned to investigate the circumstances surrounding this tragic event, much to the dismay of Colonel Nivens.

Initial speculation suggested that Waters had been targeted by the local Ku Klux Klan, but doubts quickly surfaced regarding the validity of this assumption. Colonel Nivens granted Davenport a mere three days to conduct his inquiry, a challenge compounded by the reluctance of Captain Taylor, the only white officer who shared Davenport’s commitment to seeking justice. Taylor, struggling with the reality of a Black officer leading the investigation, provided little more than condescending patronage rather than genuine cooperation. This tension left the Black soldiers feeling divided; some took pride in seeing one of their own in a captain’s role, while others remained wary and evasive.

As Davenport delved deeper into the case, he stumbled upon a critical detail that contradicted the prevailing narrative: unlike other Black soldiers slain by the Klan, Waters’ body was discovered still adorned in his military uniform. This discrepancy ignited fresh inquiries about the true nature of his death.

The 221st Chemical Smoke Generator Battalion, the unit to which Waters belonged, had been relegated to menial tasks on the Home Front despite their fervent desire to engage in combat. Comprising former stars of the Negro baseball leagues, the team had garnered fame under Waters’ managerial leadership, even generating buzz about a potential exhibition game against the New York Yankees.

James Wilkie, a former sergeant and acquaintance of Waters, painted a complex portrait of the late soldier. A veteran of World War I, Waters had been awarded the Croix de Guerre by the Third French Republic for his valor and was remembered as a strict yet fair non-commissioned officer, earning the respect of his men, particularly C.J. Memphis, the talented pitcher and jazz musician of the unit.

Yet, as Private Peterson began to uncover the malevolent side of Sergeant Waters, he was taken aback by the officer’s disdain for African American soldiers from rural Southern backgrounds who lacked formal education or communicated in the Gullah dialect. Peterson recounted a harrowing encounter where he stood up to Waters after being berated post-victory, only to be brutally assaulted in retaliation. This trauma lingered in Peterson’s mind as he recounted the incident to Lieutenant Davenport.

Continuing his probe, Davenport interviewed fellow soldiers, including Corporal Bernard Cobb, who was also brought in as a murder suspect. Cobb disclosed that Waters had previously visited C.J. in the brig, bragging about a framing plot he had executed before. To Waters, uneducated and subservient Southern Blacks like C.J. represented an obstacle to racial equality, leading him to believe that they should be removed at any cost.

As the investigation deepened, Davenport unearthed a heartbreaking tale of desperation and claustrophobia. Cobb recounted how C.J. had long struggled with confinement and eventually tragically took his own life while awaiting court-martial. In mourning for their teammate, the baseball team chose to forfeit their final game, leaving Waters unsettled. Subsequently, Captain Taylor disbanded the team and reassigned its members, sending Waters into a downward spiral.

In the meantime, racist white officers Captain Wilcox and Lieutenant Byrd confronted Waters shortly before his death. Both officers confessed to assaulting him after he succumbed to a drunken outburst but claimed they refrained from killing him due to limitations on their issued firearms. While they asserted their innocence and submitted their weapons after the incident, Captain Taylor labeled them as murderers, whereas Lieutenant Davenport ultimately cleared them of wrongdoing.

As Davenport delved deeper into the mystery surrounding Sgt. Waters’ murder, he uncovered a convoluted web of lies and racial hatred. During intense questioning, Wilkie divulged that Waters had instructed him to plant the incriminating weapon at C.J.’s quarters, motivated by an entrenched animosity toward Gullah-speaking Southern Blacks like C.J. This vendetta originated from a traumatic episode in World War I, wherein a Black soldier from their unit was subjected to relentless mocking and brutal treatment by racist white comrades in a humiliating incident at the Cafe Napoleon. This long-standing humiliation ignited a devastating spiral of violence as Waters and his fellow Black soldiers sought vengeance.

As Wilkie’s confessions unfolded, Davenport pressed for clarity on why Waters had not similarly framed Peterson after their altercation. Wilkie countered that Waters respected Peterson for his English proficiency and self-worth. This revelation led to Wilkie’s arrest just as the 221st Infantry Regiment prepared for its impending overseas deployment.

The investigation took a pivotal twist when Davenport questioned Smalls, who confessed to witnessing Peterson shoot Waters with a .45 caliber sidearm, rationalizing it as an act of “justice” for C.J. and all Black individuals. As the truth began to unfurl, Peterson maintained a smug demeanor, asserting that he had simply removed those he deemed “unfit” to be Black. Seizing the moment, Captain Davenport confronted Peterson, challenging him on the authority he believed he had to determine another individual’s worth as a Black person.

Following these startling revelations, Major Taylor lauded Davenport for his successful arrests, recognizing that the military would have to adapt to the inclusion of commissioned Black officers. With unwavering determination, Davenport affirmed, “You’ll have to get used to it, and you can bet your ass on that.” As the platoon geared up for deployment in the European theater, the weight of their experiences and the stark realities of war hung heavily in the balance.