BC Cook
THE following story comes to you through the research efforts of Blake Stilwell of military.com/.
Charles Jackson French was born in 1919 and raised in Arkansas but was orphaned as a teen and sent to live with family in Nebraska. In 1937, he joined the Navy as a mess attendant, one of the few jobs available to black sailors at the time. He served on the USS Houston, the flagship of the American Asiatic Fleet, and even hosted President Franklin Roosevelt.
In 1941, French’s enlistment was over, so he went back home to Omaha. Not long after he settled into civilian life, the Imperial Japanese Navy attacked Pearl Harbor. Four days later he enlisted in the Navy once again with the rating of mess attendant. This time, he was stationed aboard the Gregory, an old World War I-era destroyer.
French and the Gregory were en route to the Pacific in March 1942 when his old ship, the Houston, was sunk by the Japanese at the Battle of Sunda Strait. Only 368 of his former shipmates survived and were all taken captive by the Japanese, but no one knew that until they were liberated after the war. By July of that year, the Gregory and its task force headed for Guadalcanal, landing their troops on August 7. From there, their mission was to patrol, bring up supplies and ferry troops.
On the night of September 4, the Gregory was returning to Tulagi with another destroyer, the USS Little, when both were caught in the open by three enemy destroyers and a cruiser. At first, their position was hidden by the deep black of the ocean night. The Japanese firing on Guadalcanal’s Henderson Field had alerted the Americans to their presence. A Navy pilot, assuming the fire had come from a Japanese submarine, dropped a series of flares on the Americans, lighting up their position in the night.
Three minutes later, the Japanese opened fire on the Gregory, and the ship started to sink. Heavily outnumbered and with the vessel burning, its wounded captain ordered the crew to abandon ship. Some 20 minutes after that, the Japanese began firing at the survivors in the water.
For those who survived, there were few options. It would take all night to try to swim to Guadalcanal, and they would have to do it in shark-infested waters. If they floated to the nearest shore, they would be taken prisoner, and being captured by the Japanese meant imprisonment or execution. But some of them were saved because Charles Jackson French did the impossible. He stood up, tied a rope around his waist, then jumped into the water.
For the next eight hours, French pulled a life raft full of shipwrecked men away from the scene of the battle and away from a hostile shore. He dragged the raft out into open ocean where he hoped the Americans would find them rather than the enemy, and the gamble paid off. The next day, a scout aircraft spotted them, and a recovery vessel later picked them up.
The only recognition French received at the time was a letter of commendation from Admiral William Halsey. Over time, however, people have given French his due. The Navy’s rescue swimmer training pool in San Diego is named in his honor, as is a post office in Nebraska. He also eventually received the Navy and Marine Corps Medal for heroism despite life-threatening risk. The American Navy is paying French the greatest honor by naming their newest ship after him.
An ordinary person doing something extraordinary, saving lives at the risk of his own. The definition of heroism.
BC Cook, PhD lived on Saipan and has taught history for over 30 years. He is a director and historian at Sealark Exploration.
