A photograph taken in October 1918 shows two young American soldiers sitting on rubble in a French village, filthy, exhausted, and laughing together. One is white, the other Black. In the segregated American army of World War I, such a scene was officially impossible. Dr.
Robert Hayes, a military historian from Georgetown University, discovered the image in September 2023 while sorting through a box of old photographs purchased for $50 at a Virginia estate sale. The faded pencil inscription on the back read: “William and James, France, October 1918, last laugh before the push. ”
Hayes sent the photograph to three experts. All confirmed its authenticity.
The paper stock, chemical composition, and aging patterns matched 1918 originals. Equipment details placed the image in the Meuse-Argonne sector, the bloodiest American battle of the war. The inscription indicated the men were photographed just before an attack. Professor Marcus Thompson of Howard University, a specialist in Black military history, told Hayes the photograph showed “something that officially never happened.
” When America entered the war in 1917, the military implemented absolute segregation. General Order No. 40 explicitly prohibited social interaction between races. Black soldiers served in separate units, were given inferior equipment, and were mostly assigned to labor battalions.
Some units, like the Harlem Hellfighters, fought under French command because American commanders refused to put Black soldiers in combat roles. Hayes launched an investigation to identify the two men. He returned to the Richmond estate where he found the photograph. It belonged to Patricia Thornton, who died at 96 with no living relatives.
In the house, Hayes found a trunk containing letters from “William Thornton, AEF, France. ” A letter dated October 10, 1918, written the day before an attack, described finding a friend “though he and I should not be friends according to the rules of men. ” William wrote: “He is the finest friend I have known. ”
William Thornton served with the 79th Division, 313th Infantry Regiment.
The regiment suffered nearly 40 percent casualties. William was killed in action on October 14, 1918, at age 23. He was carrying the photograph when he died. It was recovered among his personal effects and sent to his family.
Finding James proved more difficult. Most World War I personnel records were destroyed in a 1973 fire, and Black soldiers’ files were disproportionately affected. Hayes spent weeks searching Black newspapers, church records, and archives. In a November 1918 issue of the Chicago Defender, he found a notice: Private James Washington of the 92nd Division, previously reported missing near Bally, France, had been confirmed alive and recovering in a French hospital.
James Washington was from Richmond, the same city as William. James survived and returned home. Census records and library archives showed he became a carpenter, was active in veterans organizations, and spoke at churches and schools. He died in 1983 at age 89.
In James’ donated papers, Hayes found a letter dated October 5, 1918. James wrote to his mother about finding a friend who was white, “though we should not be friends according to the rules of men. ” He wrote: “He treats me as an equal, something I never thought I would experience from a white man. ” He named William and noted they were both from Richmond.
Hayes also found a transcript of a talk James gave in 1968. James said he met a white soldier in France who became his brother. Someone took their picture. He said: “When I look at it, I remember that racism isn’t natural.
It’s taught. ”
Reconstructing the battle, Hayes learned the village near Bally was the site of intense fighting in early October 1918. William’s regiment advanced through the area under heavy machine gun and artillery fire. As casualties mounted in white units, commanders threw all available personnel, including Black support troops, into the line.
Segregation broke down in combat. James was wounded around the same time William was killed. A French medical report noted James, upon regaining consciousness, repeatedly called for someone named William. James never spoke publicly about William until the 1968 talk.
He married in 1922, raised three children, opened his own carpentry business, and bought a house in 1935. A minister who knew him in his later years recalled James once saying the war “showed me the world could be different than what we’re told it must be. ”
Hayes also discovered how the photograph survived. William’s mother, Martha Thornton, received it among his belongings.
Her diary from March 1919 shows she was troubled by the image of her son laughing with a “colored boy” but refused to destroy it, writing: “William chose to carry this into battle. It meant something to him. ” In December 1920, she discovered the other man was James Washington, living only two miles away. Her husband forbade her from contacting him.
But James had written to Martha in January 1921. His letter described William as “the finest man I ever knew” and said he was haunted by the thought that William died alone. Martha wrote back, saying she could not meet or correspond further because “it is not proper,” but expressed gratitude that William had a friend at the end. She kept the photograph hidden for the rest of her life.
The photograph passed to her granddaughter, Patricia Thornton, in 1952. Patricia researched and learned the other man was James Washington, still living in Richmond. She wanted to contact him but her mother forbade it. Patricia kept the photograph hidden, as her grandmother had done, and honored her uncle’s memory by supporting veterans of all races.
The photographer was also identified. Edward Harrison, an Army Signal Corps photographer assigned to document the Meuse-Argonne campaign, took the image unofficially. His grandson provided Hayes with negatives showing three images of William and James from that day. Harrison was twice reprimanded for photographing subjects that contradicted official segregation narratives.
He kept the images hidden, telling family the country was not ready to see evidence that contradicted the racial order. Hayes published his findings and organized a Veterans Day commemoration in Richmond on November 11, 2024, exactly 106 years after the armistice. A historical marker was placed in Jackson Ward, where James Washington’s carpentry shop once stood. Descendants of both families met for the first time.
James’ granddaughter recalled that her grandfather kept the photograph on his dresser until he died. He once told her: “Some friendships exist in a moment of truth, and that moment has to be enough. ”
William’s great-great-nephew said learning about the friendship “elevates” William’s memory, showing he was a man who saw past the divisions his society enforced. The photograph, long hidden because it showed genuine friendship across racial lines, is now part of the permanent historical record.
Hayes said the image proved that racial barriers were not natural or inevitable but enforced through violence, law, and social pressure. When those enforcement mechanisms broke down in combat, William and James naturally became friends.