One Night of Watery Fear

Charles Jackson French was serving his duty as a mess hall attendant in the Guadalcanal located off the Solomon Islands in 1942 during World War II. This was his second enlistment in the U.S. military. He was on board the U.S. destroyer ship, “Gregory” when it came under fire from Japanese guns. Amid the cries of, “Abandon Ship!” French, along with other sailors, some badly wounded, found themselves pitched into the sea, dodging rapid fire in shark-infested waters. A few life rafts were deployed, French spotted one of them ad began piling on his wounded shipmates. He piled the sailors on the raft until it almost sank.

During World War II, discrimination and segregation of Black and Filipino people were common, so Charles French was not able to serve in the U.S. Navy in any other capacity than being an onboard attendant (unless a separate division was formed for them). On board the Gregory, his job was a mess attendant serving white officers. French served meals to the officers and sailors. He cleared the tables and cleaned up. Down in the ship's galley, there was little chance to channel heroism, but it found Charles French right there on an October night in 1942.

After putting as many men on the raft as was possible without sinking it, French paused to rest. He had rescued a wounded officer, Navy Ensign, Robert Adrian who advised French that the ocean currents were moving them into proximity near the Japanese fleet who were using spotlights to locate the wounded in the water to finish them off.

“Then we will move away from them, I will swim and pull this raft,” Charles French said.

“No, you can’t!” Adrian replied. “There are sharks in these waters, they are attracted here now because of the bodies!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Charles French had wrapped the rope line from the raft and tightened it about his waist, he jumped into the water and began to swim.

“Just tell me if I’m going the right way!” he shouted to Adrian.

In the water, with the rope around his waist, Charles French swam with the stamina that possibly very few people could muster. He swam upon the rolling waves, the shark fins popped up around them. Mr. French towed his comrades in the ocean, swimming over six hours before they were rescued by fellow American sailors.

After the drifting sailors were rescued, the wounded were sent to a hospital, the officials wanted to separate French from his crew because he was “colored.” The sailors on the raft banded together and refused. The other Navy officers had a standoff with these servicemen as they held fast, covered in grime, oil, looking like madmen. They meant what they said, Charles French stayed with them, his was their savior, their friend, and a solid part of the Gregory crew.

Incredibly, for such an act of courage, French only received a solitary letter of commendation from the U.S. Navy. The main reason for this also has it roots in racism. The ship’s Skipper received a posthumous silver star because he declined help and gave his spot on the life rafts to those who were wounded. By Navy standards at that time in history, it would be unprecedented for a subordinate to attain a higher award for a heroic act over that of a ‘superior.’

After the war ended, Charles French’s courageous act vanished into the annals of forgotten deeds. Robert Adrian did not forget, he tried to find French, he wanted him to have the recognition for his unprecedented brave act. Adrian wrote a book about the war and many events in the Guadalcanal. Pulitzer Prize winning poet, William Rose Behet penned a poem about French called “The Strong Swimmer.” It was simply in these few works that such an amazing and honorable deed faded.

French himself only spoke about that night on a few occasions. He went on tell the story in the presence of another man, Charles Wright. Wright added to these few recounts by recalling French’s act of bravery in a book, Black Men, Blue Water. Wright quoted French as saying, “I felt the fear when the sharks brushed against my feet. I guess they weren’t hungry that night!”

One interesting question that remains to this day, is how did Charles French become such a strong and capable swimmer at a time when African Americans were prevented from swimming in every pool and public beach in America? Many people have surmised it was so because he grew up near the Red River and stone quarries near Forman, Arkansas.

Because this story deserves to be at the top of the most respected places of not only the circumstances of World War III, but at the top of American history, I felt compelled to offer my own weak words in salute to Charles French.

Swim

Upon the night waves, plowing water

Strong and majestic in form

Carrying the downtrodden upon your shoulders

And in each stroke

Muscles primed with exertion, exhaustion

As the sharp scales of death brushed your feet

You were there, angel in the night

At a time of upheaval

In an upside-down world

You did not abandon your post

You swam for lives you didn’t owe

For a world stripped of weapons and bombs

Stripped of hypocrisy and injustice

And in your journey through a torrid sea

You blazed a trail across the perimeter of a watery abyss

We salute you, Mr. French

And hasten to sculpt these long-deserved words

Into a cup of gratitude

With weak hands molding every contour

On this day when our best times are well drowned down

Perhaps Achilles himself has whispered to Poseidon

Of the one who conquered the swirling sea

On a night of dark death