In the summer of 2020, a Black man named George Floyd was murdered by a police officer in Minneapolis, Minnesota. In the following days, protests and civil unrest broke out across the country. Fayetteville, where Floyd was born, witnessed turmoil as well, including an attempted arson at the Market House.
Yet this was not the first time that Fayetteville found itself the focus of racial unrest.
Night of Terror
Early in the morning of 6 August 1941, 500 Black soldiers lay on the ground of the prison yard at Fort Bragg. For five hours they were guarded by white Military Police who ordered them not to talk, move, or sleep. Those who violated these directives were kicked or hit by the MPs.
One non-commissioned officer, only known as Sergeant B, recounted that he and his fellow soldiers were stopped in a cab on the way to Bragg by Military Police “armed with sawed-off shotguns and automatics.” The MPs “opened the doors and pointed their guns at us. We began to ask what the trouble was. Without answering us, one of the MPs blurted out: ‘All right, you god damned niggers, keep quiet or we’ll blow your god damned brains out!'” (Prattis).
Sergeant B and his comrades lay on the ground until one of the officers from their company came for them at 0630. At least two soldiers who protested this treatment had been taken into guardhouses and beaten.
In what the Pittsburgh Courier termed a “night of terror”, every “colored” soldier at Fort Bragg had been, as another newspaper put it, “rounded up” by Military Police. After sunrise, as Black soldiers began to return to their units, word spread that leave was cancelled for colored soldiers until further notice.
Word also spread that earlier that morning, at around 0100, there had been a “gun battle” aboard a bus in downtown Fayetteville (“Two Killed in Fight”). It was this incident that led to the “night of terror” though there was a much longer pattern of abuse and racism that preceded it.
Jim Crow Joins the Army
A little less than a year before, the United States had instituted a peacetime draft and Fort Bragg expanded rapidly. Though the nation was not at war, it was becoming increasingly clear that the conflict in Europe and the Pacific would soon involve the United States.
The Pittsburgh Courier described pre-draft Fayetteville as a small town of “17,000, one-third of whom were Negroes.” The defense buildup brought the civilian population of Fayetteville to 40,000 in less than a year while bringing Bragg to 60,000 troops.
In November 1940, preparation for an influx of troops who may have been unaccustomed to Jim Crow, Fayetteville’s city council directed the city attorney to draft an ordinance which would require all restaurants to have “two entrances, front and back” and to prohibit “serving to both white and colored people” (Lutz 74). Black troops from other parts of the country would be expected to adapt themselves to the racial etiquette of Bragg’s host city. Fayetteville, which in the interwar period had been quiet enough, was transformed into a crowded hive of military activity almost overnight.
The violence and terror that would descend on Fayetteville was not unique to the city, however, and before and during World War II, racial tensions in the United States ignited:
- In 1941, a riot broke out in Wilmington, NC when “twelve black soldiers refused to take the rear on their bus ride to Camp Davis.ˮ
- Private Felix Hall was lynched at Fort Benning, GA in 1941.
- A similar refusal to move to the back of the bus occurred in Durham, and as a result the soldier was shot and killed by the bus driver. The ensuing riots destroyed a city block.
- By 1943, “Fisk Universityʼs Social Science Institute reported that forty-seven American cities had witnessed 242 racial battlesˮ (Lutz 66-67).
The Pittsburgh Courier, one of the most prominent Black newspapers in the United States at the time, published an in-depth exploration of Fort Bragg and Fayetteville as a result of the killings. Reporter James M. Reid specifically identified three factors that made Fayetteville a “regular hell” for its 6,500 “race soldiers.”
- the physical limitations of Fayetteville itself in regard to overcrowding, and the burdens imposed on Black soldiers by segregation
- the prejudiced attitude of white civilians
- the persistent abuse and mistreatment of Black soldiers by white officers
“Little Harlem”
The lack of recreational facilities on base forced Black soldiers to visit “Little Harlem.”
“Little Harlem”, according to the Courier, “abounds in dope joints, vice dens and prostitutes. Police call it the toughest section in the South.” Though according to the 1941 Hill’s Directory for Hillsboro Street, the immediate area at the entrance of the district featured prominent local Black-owned establishments, including Pearl’s Place Confectionery, the Corner Cafe, Love’s Barber Shop, Love’s Beauty Shop, and the College Grill.
For those familiar with Fayetteville, “Little Harlem” covered much of the area that the US Army Airborne & Special Operations Museum covers now. White soldiers were given the freedom to frequent the main downtown thoroughfare of Hay Street.
In fact, much of what was once Little Harlem is now dedicated to military memory, with the North Carolina Veterans Park just adjacent to the Airborne Museum. Farther to the north along Hillsboro Street, what residential zoning remains is still roughly 90% Black, according to census data, and residents average some of the lowest income in the city (Justice Map).
For the Pittsburgh Courier and Carolina Times, both prominent Black newspapers, it was this mixture of racial prejudice and poor conditions that led to the incident on the morning of 6 August.
With only five of fifty buses serving the “colored area” of the city, and the drivers of those buses often prone to use “vile racial names”, what happened did not come as a shock to the Black soldiers of Fort Bragg.
“Whitewashing”
According to the Inspector General’s Office at the War Department:
August 5, 1941, was pay day for a portion of the colored troops at Fort Bragg. The customary off-duty pilgrimage to Fayetteville, ten miles distant, for spending and recreational indulgences occurred. Late-hour returns to the post created a peak load demand for bus transportation and consequent large gatherings at a bus stop adjacent to a notorious colored section of town known as “Little Harlem” (Lutz 69).
Early Associated Press reports on 6 August quoted the Assistant Police Chief of Fayetteville, N.A. Weatherington. Weatherington reported that he’d been told that “the Negroes began an argument over the bus fare and that one of them kicked a military policeman in the face. The negro…grabbed the military officer’s pistol and in a few seconds a series of shots sounded” (“Two Killed…”).
According to those reports, two men were killed and at least three, a white MP and two Black soldiers, were wounded.
The two dead servicemen were Private Ned Turman (27) of Bamberg, South Carolina (76th Coastal Artillery Regiment) and Sergeant Elwyn Hargrove (20) of Corsicana, Texas. All early reports indicated Turman being “a negro” while Hargrove’s race (white) needed no mentioning.
The bus was stopped at the intersection of Hay and Hillsboro Streets, at the entrance to “Little Harlem.” Military Police were no strangers to being called to these buses when Black soldiers vocally objected to their treatment by drivers.
Most of the white newspapers in the US detailed a story that appealed to white sensibilities: a bus full of drunken Black soldiers had become too out of control for the driver. Unarmed Black MPs had failed to quell the rowdy troops and so white MPs were called. Several white MPs arrived and Sgt. Hargraves entered the bus and was attacked by Private Turman who then took Hargraves’ gun and shot him through the heart. Turman then began firing at the other Military Policemen and, after running out of ammunition, was shot dead from behind by MP Sergeant Russell Owens, who had entered from the rear of the bus.
A court-martial of Sgt. Owens was held and by 15 August, Owens was freed after it was found that he acted correctly. Col. C.B. Elliott, commandant of Fort Bragg, approved of the findings of the court-martial — though Black newspapers protested Elliott’s role since he was known to freely use the word “n—–” and approved extensive Jim Crow segregation in post facilities (“Findings Approved”).
The NAACP, among other organizations and voices, accused the Army of “whitewashing” the facts, as many Black soldiers admitted that they had been led during questioning, and not permitted to speak except in terms of “yes” or “no.”
The in-depth reporting of the Pittsburgh Courier following the courtmartial led to the War Department opening its own investigation and finding that the murderer of both Hargraves and Turman was unknown, despite the fact that Sgt. Owens admitted to shooting Turman.
Prior to the release of the War Department’s report, Col. Elliott was transferred to an all-white posting, as he’d brought unwanted attention to the case by his use of racial slurs and been found unfit for commanding Black soldiers (Lutz).
In the wake of the killings, Fort Bragg launched an explicit propaganda program to project an image of stability, which included broadcasting a weekly radio program every Thursday night that featured an act from a segregated “Negro unit”.
Interviews published by the Black press revealed a striking layer of friction and indifference among local Black residents regarding the northern soldiers. One local cab driver noted that he only cared about securing more cab runs, while a cafe operator explicitly stated to a reporter, “To be honest, I’ll tell you I don’t care much about northern Negroes myself”.
The Black press also reported that local enterprises capitalized heavily on the military influx, driving prices up to match New York rates, with hot dogs and hamburgers selling for 10 cents, a 10-cent bottle of beer marked up to 15 cents, and notoriously steep local cab fares.
Hay and Hillsboro
So, what really happened on the bus at the corner of Hay and Hillsboro on 6 August, 1941? What chain of events led to the imprisonment of Black soldiers on Fort Bragg?
The Pittsburgh Courier printed its own findings after talking to eyewitnesses who had been too afraid to contradict the findings of the Army.
According to those witnesses, the bus driver wanted an armed white MP to accompany the bus back to Fort Bragg and would not leave without one. The Black soldiers protested, saying that they didn’t want a white MP. The bus driver exited the bus and returned with seven to eight white MPs.
Mack Poole, a Black soldier with an all-night pass and standing outside the bus, was approached by the MPs and told to board. He refused, presenting his pass. He was physically forced onto the bus and continued to protest and then was struck over the head by one of the MPs wielding a nightstick. Staggering and bleeding from the head, Poole begged to be let off the bus and finally managed to kick the door open, falling onto the pavement. Witnesses reported to the Black press that after Military Police struck Poole with a blackjack, his head “looked caved in”.
It was at this point that Private Turman spoke up, telling the driver to hurry and return the bus to Fort Bragg before more soldiers were beaten. Two MPs approached Turman and he put up his hands before being struck by their nightsticks. As the violence escalated, Military Police intentionally blocked both the front and rear exits of the bus, trapping the soldiers inside. A third MP then joined in the beating. Witnesses say that this is when Turman broke free. He was holding a gun and backing away from the approaching MPs, and then he began firing.
Who was Ned Turman?
Ned Turman was born in June 1914 in Bamberg, South Carolina, to parents Phelix and Annie Turman. Turman enlisted in the Army on 2 May, 1941, at Camp Blanding, Florida, when he was 26. Prior to enlisting, Turman had been working as a wood cutter in Live Oak, Florida. He had a third grade education and was married, though his wife, Ola Mae, was not living with him at the time.
By August 1941, Turman was serving in Battery C of the 76th Coastal Artillery as a private.
All that can be discerned about Turman is from the dry, official documents that the federal government provides, and we have to reconstruct his life from sources other than his own words. We can’t know how he felt about enlisting in the Army, or what he hoped to do with his life after exiting the service. We can’t even really know what happened that that night in 1941.
His official death certificate provides precise medical details, noting his immediate cause of death was a penetrating gunshot wound to the left shoulder from a .45-caliber pistol bullet. The bullet traveled downward, perforating the upper lobe of his left lung, his heart, the lower lobe of his right lung, his diaphragm, and his liver before lodging in his intercostal muscle.
The military physician explicitly classified Turman’s death on the certificate as a “Justifiable Homicide”.
The Usual Manner
As far as the War Department was concerned, the killer of Hargraves and Turman was unknown. Secretary of War Stimson, in a letter to the NAACP, claimed that Sergeant Russell Owens was using a different type of ammunition than what was found in the bodies of the dead or wounded. In fact, Stimson’s letter refers to the shooter of Turman and Hargraves simply as “a colored soldier” (“Fort Bragg Soldier…”). All of this despite the fact that Owens was cleared of wrongdoing in the killing of Turman.
When the report was released in late November 1941, The Carolina Times remarked that the case had been closed “in the usual manner” (Lutz). So, despite early reports that Turman had killed Hargraves and then was killed by Owens, the War Department insisted that some shadowy, unknown figure was responsible for the two deaths. Stimson’s letter assured the NAACP that efforts were still underway to discover the killer.
The War Department’s findings were as follows:
- Both Turman and Hargraves were killed by an unknown assailant, despite the crowd of witnesses on the bus.
- The War Department found that Hargraves’ gun was emptied of six rounds, five of which were definitely accounted for. The sixth supposedly struck Turman.
- Sergeant Owens was reported to have fired two shots but hit no one. Turman was supposedly killed by commercial ammunition which would not have fit Owens’ firearm.
- The War Department promised to find the identity of the killer.
The Fort Bragg story received so much national attention that “for a while it appeared that Fort Bragg might become the rallying symbol of wartime racial injustice for African Americans across the nation” (Smith). Of course, the attack on Pearl Harbor followed just weeks after and the incident was completely crushed out of the news cycle by the war.
Segregated water fountains on post were removed in favor of paper drinking cup facilities.
Executive Order 9981, issued by President Truman in 1948, ended racial segregation in the US military, though the Army and Marines were the most reluctant of the branches to implement this change. For the Army, “the last segregated army units were not dissolved until 1954” (“Executive Order 9981”) with top brass arguing that integration would undermine national security. Ultimately, the Army has come to embrace the history around Executive Order 9981, and many of the bases formerly named for Confederate generals were, for a time at least, renamed, though white grievance has brought about a reversal of those changes.
Not long after the incident, a USO for “colored soldiers” was established downtown and a year later “there were others at Seabrook Road and Spring Lake” (Lutz). Fort Bragg and Fayetteville would grow tremendously during the war, and that growth only increased with the Cold War. Fayetteville became the epicenter of American foreign policy and home to the accompanying violence. The integration of the Army meant that by the time of the Vietnam War, Black and white soldiers could enjoy “notorious” Hay Street together, and Fayetteville earned a reputation that it still works desperately to outrun.
For Hargraves and Turman, World War II never happened. Their service ended early that morning on a bus idling at the entrance to an unpaved and sandy road that wound north through Fayetteville’s impoverished Black community.
Following his death, his father, Phelix Turman, filed an application on May 14, 1942, for an upright granite headstone to be shipped to Ashton, South Carolina, for his grave in the Ashton Branch Cemetery.
The last news item to mention the incident was a poem, an excerpt of which is included here, published in January 1942 on page six of the Pittsburgh Courier.
But the last word on this belongs to Sandra C., Ned Turman’s granddaughter, who I was able to contact a few years ago via Facebook. Sandra was incredibly gracious and open to talking about her grandfather, and when I asked her if she was comfortable with me giving a presentation on the topic at the college where I teach, she was enthusiastic.
I asked her what she would like people to know about her grandfather, and what happened at the corner of Hillsboro and Hay in 1941. I hope that giving her the final word will go some way in providing closure, to her, to Turman, or to the chaos of those moments in 1941. She wrote the following:
“Good morning Joshua thank you so much for this information. My father was born before my grandfather moved to Florida and got married , then joined the army. Some information I had already but you’ve added so much more. I wish I had a photo of him, I don’t know if they took military photos of the black men during that time. Again thank you so much. God continue to bless you and your colleagues “🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽
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