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War Hero’s Ship Comes In
CWA Member Celebrates Another Victory in Long Fight for Justice
The ceremonial bottle clanged against the brass bell on Allene Carter’s first swing, but it refused to crack. So Carter smiled and swung again — hard. This time the glass shattered inside its protective netting, spraying photographers with champagne and bringing cheers from 200 onlookers as the Navy band struck up a patriotic tune under a hazy blue sky.
Two hundred yards west of the celebration on the Elizabeth River between Norfolk and Portsmouth, Va., the newly christened M/V SSG Edward A. Carter Jr. stood ready for duty.
It was a grand milestone in Allene Carter’s journey to bring honor to her father-in-law, a black World War II hero whose military career and reputation were later ruined by the U.S. Army. He died, distraught, in 1963.
“His spirit is at peace now, because my spirit is at peace,” Carter said at the naming ceremony for the ammunition supply ship June 12. “I no longer feel the tugging at my heart strings for justice.”
Carter, a steward in a unit of police dispatch supervisors she organized years ago in Los Angeles County through CWA Local 9400, never met her father-in-law. But since 1997, she has been on a mission to right the wrongs he suffered.
Every speaker at the ceremony and reception that followed hailed her tireless efforts, praising Carter’s never-back-down attitude through years of research, phone calls and letter writing. Her work continues today with a book in progress.
In naming the ship for Staff Sgt. “Eddie” Carter Jr., U.S. Navy Vice Adm. Gordon Holder said the military honors not only an extraordinary soldier, “We honor the tenacity and love of his daughter-in-law.”
The Ship’s “Bride”
Allene Carter’s husband, Eddie Carter III, watched with pride as his wife broke the bottle over the bell, which will be installed on the ship before its voyage across the sea.
Traditionally, only women christen ships because vessels are considered the “brides” of their captains. The couple’s daughter, Santalia, 21, was the “maid of honor” and their son, Corey, 26, was in attendance. Sgt. Carter’s other son, William, was there, too, and his wife, Karen, was the matron of honor.
Also on hand were Local 9400 President Mike Hartigan and the local’s director, Jeff Finley. “Allene epitomizes the feeling of CWA 9400 — the willingness to take on an issue and fight until you win,” Hartigan said.
Finley said they wanted to be there for her because “she’s so awesome and so dynamic. She’s worked so hard at this, and it’s such a righteous crusade.”
The ship, originally built in Korea in 1984, was refurbished at the Norfolk Shipbuilding & Drydock Corp. to be an ammunition supply ship. It is 950 feet long, weighs 59,000 tons and has four cranes that allow it to load and unload its cargo without cranes on shore.
In a civilian-military partnership, the MS SSG Edward A. Carter Jr. is owned and operated by Maersk Line, Ltd. but is leased to Military Sealift Command, which manages the Defense Department’s ocean transportation needs.
The Carter, with a 20-member Merchant Marine crew, is headed to the Indian Ocean, where it will be stationed indefinitely. It is one of 35 so-called “pre-positioning” ships, the military’s term for placing ships with combat equipment in strategic locations. MSC officials say that’s vital as bases are shut down around the world.
The head of MSC, Army Gen. Donald Parker, spoke of Sgt. Carter’s “calling” to be a soldier. It was a desire so strong that Carter, who grew up the child of missionaries in China, joined the Chinese Army to fight the Japanese. In the late 1930s, rejected by the U.S. Army, he fought with other American volunteers in the Spanish Civil War.
As America entered World War II, the U.S. Army finally let Carter enlist. But like other black volunteers, he was assigned to a service unit, not trusted to be a front-line soldier.
The Army was forced to change its policy after suffering heavy losses in the Battle of the Bulge in early 1945. About 4,500 black soldiers volunteered to fight and 2,221 were chosen, including Carter. Some of his fellow black veterans attended the ship-naming ceremony.
“We all wanted to fight,” said 78-year-old Andrew Nix Jr., of Philadelphia, who didn’t know Carter but met his family at a 12th Armored Division reunion. “We didn’t mind dying because we wanted to prove our cause. We wanted to show them that we weren’t cowards, that we were ready for battle.”
Battlefield Hero
Carter, Nix and other black sergeants were demoted to private in order to fight, ensuring they wouldn’t have a higher rank than whites. Carter quickly proved himself an able, eager soldier, and on March 23, 1945, kept what Gen. Parker called “an appointment with history.”
As evening fell that day near Speyer, Germany, the tank Carter was riding on came under enemy fire from a warehouse. Carter volunteered to lead a three-man patrol to try to take out the Nazis. One of his men was killed almost instantly and Carter ordered the others to retreat and cover him as he continued toward the warehouse. A second soldier died and the third was wounded.
Carter was shot in his left arm and leg and another bullet went through his left hand. He crawled within 30 yards of the warehouse and took cover behind an embankment, staying still for two hours. Finally, eight Nazi soldiers came outside, expecting to find him dead or take him prisoner. He instantly killed six of them with machine gun fire and captured the other two.
His commanding officer, Lt. Col. Russell Blair, who attended the naming ceremony, remembered watching in amazement as Carter approached a brewery where his unit had taken cover. Blair described how Carter had a knife to one prisoner’s neck and a machine gun at the other’s belly as he walked them across the field.
“He was a tremendous soldier," Blair said. “He soldiered 24 hours a day, seven days a week. He was all business.” In fact, Carter refused treatment for his wounds until he had interrogated the prisoners, getting them to divulge vital information that led the Allies to take Speyer two days later.
Had Carter been around for the June ceremony, Blair said he would have been proud of his daughter-in-law, but humble about himself. “He would have been just as ordinary as he was all the time,” he said.
Blair nominated Carter for a Medal of Honor, the military’s highest award. But in those years, blacks weren’t eligible. Carter was given a Distinguished Service Cross instead.
Carter returned home from the war a hero, re-enlisted and helped train an African-American unit of National Guard engineers. But when he tried to re-enlist again, the Army refused.
In an era when racism persisted and government paranoia raged about alleged communist spies, the Army decided that Carter’s stints in the Chinese and Spanish armies made him suspect. He was continually denied hearings, even when the American Civil Liberties Union and National Association for the Advancement of Colored People took his case. He was fired from jobs when employers heard the Army rumors.
“Eddie Carter and other soldiers were tainted by unfounded accusations and innuendo,” Parker said. “The country he had fought so hard for seemed to turn its back on him.”
Making Amends
In the mid-1990s, the Army started digging into its records to determine why no black soldiers had been given the Medal of Honor during World War II. Ultimately, it found that Carter and six other soldiers should have received it.
Only one of the men was still alive when the awards were presented at a White House ceremony in 1997. The Carter family attended but wanted something more — an apology. And they wanted the Army to open its files, to reveal why it had driven Carter out of the service and who was involved — details the military kept quiet by refusing Carter’s pleas for a hearing.
Thus began Allene Carter’s odyssey. Using skills she’d learned and honed in union campaigns, she searched for Army documents and witnesses, and wrote letter after letter. Her struggle was featured in a 10-page U.S. News and World Report spread, which caught the eye of President Bill Clinton.
A short time later, he wrote to Carter’s widow, Mildred, apologizing “on behalf of all Americans.”
At the time of the Medal of Honor ceremony, the family had submitted Carter’s name for a ship. Allene Carter knew it was a long shot. Then the call came this spring.
“With all the people who deserve to have a ship named for them, for Sgt. Carter to be selected, it’s just phenomenal. I’m in awe,” she said. “I can’t even tell you how pleased and how excited I am and how deeply this touches me.”
The ceremonial bottle clanged against the brass bell on Allene Carter’s first swing, but it refused to crack. So Carter smiled and swung again — hard. This time the glass shattered inside its protective netting, spraying photographers with champagne and bringing cheers from 200 onlookers as the Navy band struck up a patriotic tune under a hazy blue sky.
Two hundred yards west of the celebration on the Elizabeth River between Norfolk and Portsmouth, Va., the newly christened M/V SSG Edward A. Carter Jr. stood ready for duty.
It was a grand milestone in Allene Carter’s journey to bring honor to her father-in-law, a black World War II hero whose military career and reputation were later ruined by the U.S. Army. He died, distraught, in 1963.
“His spirit is at peace now, because my spirit is at peace,” Carter said at the naming ceremony for the ammunition supply ship June 12. “I no longer feel the tugging at my heart strings for justice.”
Carter, a steward in a unit of police dispatch supervisors she organized years ago in Los Angeles County through CWA Local 9400, never met her father-in-law. But since 1997, she has been on a mission to right the wrongs he suffered.
Every speaker at the ceremony and reception that followed hailed her tireless efforts, praising Carter’s never-back-down attitude through years of research, phone calls and letter writing. Her work continues today with a book in progress.
In naming the ship for Staff Sgt. “Eddie” Carter Jr., U.S. Navy Vice Adm. Gordon Holder said the military honors not only an extraordinary soldier, “We honor the tenacity and love of his daughter-in-law.”
The Ship’s “Bride”
Allene Carter’s husband, Eddie Carter III, watched with pride as his wife broke the bottle over the bell, which will be installed on the ship before its voyage across the sea.
Traditionally, only women christen ships because vessels are considered the “brides” of their captains. The couple’s daughter, Santalia, 21, was the “maid of honor” and their son, Corey, 26, was in attendance. Sgt. Carter’s other son, William, was there, too, and his wife, Karen, was the matron of honor.
Also on hand were Local 9400 President Mike Hartigan and the local’s director, Jeff Finley. “Allene epitomizes the feeling of CWA 9400 — the willingness to take on an issue and fight until you win,” Hartigan said.
Finley said they wanted to be there for her because “she’s so awesome and so dynamic. She’s worked so hard at this, and it’s such a righteous crusade.”
The ship, originally built in Korea in 1984, was refurbished at the Norfolk Shipbuilding & Drydock Corp. to be an ammunition supply ship. It is 950 feet long, weighs 59,000 tons and has four cranes that allow it to load and unload its cargo without cranes on shore.
In a civilian-military partnership, the MS SSG Edward A. Carter Jr. is owned and operated by Maersk Line, Ltd. but is leased to Military Sealift Command, which manages the Defense Department’s ocean transportation needs.
The Carter, with a 20-member Merchant Marine crew, is headed to the Indian Ocean, where it will be stationed indefinitely. It is one of 35 so-called “pre-positioning” ships, the military’s term for placing ships with combat equipment in strategic locations. MSC officials say that’s vital as bases are shut down around the world.
The head of MSC, Army Gen. Donald Parker, spoke of Sgt. Carter’s “calling” to be a soldier. It was a desire so strong that Carter, who grew up the child of missionaries in China, joined the Chinese Army to fight the Japanese. In the late 1930s, rejected by the U.S. Army, he fought with other American volunteers in the Spanish Civil War.
As America entered World War II, the U.S. Army finally let Carter enlist. But like other black volunteers, he was assigned to a service unit, not trusted to be a front-line soldier.
The Army was forced to change its policy after suffering heavy losses in the Battle of the Bulge in early 1945. About 4,500 black soldiers volunteered to fight and 2,221 were chosen, including Carter. Some of his fellow black veterans attended the ship-naming ceremony.
“We all wanted to fight,” said 78-year-old Andrew Nix Jr., of Philadelphia, who didn’t know Carter but met his family at a 12th Armored Division reunion. “We didn’t mind dying because we wanted to prove our cause. We wanted to show them that we weren’t cowards, that we were ready for battle.”
Battlefield Hero
Carter, Nix and other black sergeants were demoted to private in order to fight, ensuring they wouldn’t have a higher rank than whites. Carter quickly proved himself an able, eager soldier, and on March 23, 1945, kept what Gen. Parker called “an appointment with history.”
As evening fell that day near Speyer, Germany, the tank Carter was riding on came under enemy fire from a warehouse. Carter volunteered to lead a three-man patrol to try to take out the Nazis. One of his men was killed almost instantly and Carter ordered the others to retreat and cover him as he continued toward the warehouse. A second soldier died and the third was wounded.
Carter was shot in his left arm and leg and another bullet went through his left hand. He crawled within 30 yards of the warehouse and took cover behind an embankment, staying still for two hours. Finally, eight Nazi soldiers came outside, expecting to find him dead or take him prisoner. He instantly killed six of them with machine gun fire and captured the other two.
His commanding officer, Lt. Col. Russell Blair, who attended the naming ceremony, remembered watching in amazement as Carter approached a brewery where his unit had taken cover. Blair described how Carter had a knife to one prisoner’s neck and a machine gun at the other’s belly as he walked them across the field.
“He was a tremendous soldier," Blair said. “He soldiered 24 hours a day, seven days a week. He was all business.” In fact, Carter refused treatment for his wounds until he had interrogated the prisoners, getting them to divulge vital information that led the Allies to take Speyer two days later.
Had Carter been around for the June ceremony, Blair said he would have been proud of his daughter-in-law, but humble about himself. “He would have been just as ordinary as he was all the time,” he said.
Blair nominated Carter for a Medal of Honor, the military’s highest award. But in those years, blacks weren’t eligible. Carter was given a Distinguished Service Cross instead.
Carter returned home from the war a hero, re-enlisted and helped train an African-American unit of National Guard engineers. But when he tried to re-enlist again, the Army refused.
In an era when racism persisted and government paranoia raged about alleged communist spies, the Army decided that Carter’s stints in the Chinese and Spanish armies made him suspect. He was continually denied hearings, even when the American Civil Liberties Union and National Association for the Advancement of Colored People took his case. He was fired from jobs when employers heard the Army rumors.
“Eddie Carter and other soldiers were tainted by unfounded accusations and innuendo,” Parker said. “The country he had fought so hard for seemed to turn its back on him.”
Making Amends
In the mid-1990s, the Army started digging into its records to determine why no black soldiers had been given the Medal of Honor during World War II. Ultimately, it found that Carter and six other soldiers should have received it.
Only one of the men was still alive when the awards were presented at a White House ceremony in 1997. The Carter family attended but wanted something more — an apology. And they wanted the Army to open its files, to reveal why it had driven Carter out of the service and who was involved — details the military kept quiet by refusing Carter’s pleas for a hearing.
Thus began Allene Carter’s odyssey. Using skills she’d learned and honed in union campaigns, she searched for Army documents and witnesses, and wrote letter after letter. Her struggle was featured in a 10-page U.S. News and World Report spread, which caught the eye of President Bill Clinton.
A short time later, he wrote to Carter’s widow, Mildred, apologizing “on behalf of all Americans.”
At the time of the Medal of Honor ceremony, the family had submitted Carter’s name for a ship. Allene Carter knew it was a long shot. Then the call came this spring.
“With all the people who deserve to have a ship named for them, for Sgt. Carter to be selected, it’s just phenomenal. I’m in awe,” she said. “I can’t even tell you how pleased and how excited I am and how deeply this touches me.”