The More We Know

I’d never heard of it. Have you?
The Linard Memo may be one of the most revealing documents about race in America during World War I. It wasn’t written by an enemy. It wasn’t propaganda. It was a confidential memorandum connected to America’s own military leadership.
In 1918, more than 380,000 African Americans served in the U.S. Army during World War I. Thousands were sent overseas to France.
They wore the same uniform, pledged allegiance to the same flag, and were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for a country that still denied many of them basic civil rights.
When these soldiers arrived in France, something unexpected happened.
The French treated many Black American soldiers with dignity and respect. They shared meals with them. They shook their hands. They welcomed them into their communities. They recognized their bravery and judged them by their military service rather than the color of their skin. And, some French women fell in love with quite a few of them.
That acceptance alarmed American military leaders.
Instead of celebrating the respect Black soldiers were earning, they worried that the French were treating them “too well.”
That’s where the Linard Memo comes in.

The confidential memorandum instructed French military officers and civilians to change the way they interacted with Black American troops. Among its recommendations, it urged them to:
● Avoid praising Black soldiers, especially in the presence of White American troops.
● Avoid treating Black officers as social equals of White American officers.
● Limit social interaction with Black American soldiers, even though the French had generally welcomed them.
● Discourage friendships and close relationships between French women and Black American men.
● Refrain from shaking hands, embracing, or showing public signs of equality or admiration that might offend White American soldiers.
● Respect American racial customs, even if those customs conflicted with French traditions and military culture.
Read that list again — in other words, don’t treat differently than we do in America.

These men had crossed an ocean to defend democracy. They stood ready to fight, bleed, and die for their country. Yet instead of asking America’s allies to honor their courage, American military leaders asked them to honor America’s system of racial segregation.
Think about that.
The concern wasn’t the enemy.
The concern was equality.
And yet, despite every obstacle placed before them, Black soldiers excelled.
The Harlem Hellfighters and other regiments of the 93rd Division fought under French command with extraordinary courage. They earned France’s highest military honors because the French judged them by their character, discipline, and performance—not by the color of their skin.
The irony couldn’t be greater.
America was fighting a war to make the world “safe for democracy” while trying to export Jim Crow across the Atlantic.
As I’ve traveled this summer—from Birmingham to Memphis, from Little Rock to Oklahoma City, through museums, memorials, historic neighborhoods, and forgotten communities—I’ve realized something.
The more I learn, the more I understand how much was left out of the history many of us were taught.
Not because these stories didn’t happen.
But because too often they weren’t considered important enough to include.
At this stage of my life, I’m no longer looking for comfortable history.
I’m looking for complete history.
The stories that inspire us.
The stories that challenge us.
The stories that explain both the progress we’ve made and the obstacles we’ve overcome.
Every museum. Every archive. Every historical marker. Every overlooked document fills in another missing piece of America’s story.
The Linard Memo is one of those pieces.
It’s uncomfortable.
It’s painful.
But it is also necessary.
Because we cannot truly honor the courage of Black servicemembers if we refuse to acknowledge the barriers they faced—not only from the enemy abroad, but from prejudice within their own ranks.
That’s why I keep traveling.
That’s why I keep reading.
That’s why I keep asking questions.
Because the more we know…
The more we uncover…
…the closer we come to understanding the full American story.
What piece of history have you uncovered that made you stop and ask, “Why wasn’t I ever taught this?”

If this blog made you think, taught you something new, or inspired you to dig a little deeper, I’d love your support. Please like ❤️, leave a comment 🗣️, and subscribe/follow so we can continue exploring the stories history too often leaves behind.
You can find me on Facebook, Instagram, Substack, and yes… I’m even having fun experimenting with TikTok, sharing my thoughts, travels, coaching, and what life in my 60s really looks like—one story at a time.
A Note About AI: This blog may have been created with the assistance of multiple AI platforms for historical research, fact-checking, writing support, and image generation. Every idea, perspective, and final edit reflects my voice and my commitment to sharing thoughtful, well-researched stories.
– Tena
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