On American Soil |

“On American Soil,” by Jack Hamann, Algonquin, $24.95

At a time when questions are being raised both at home and abroad about America’s treatment of its prisoners of war, a compelling new book called “On American Soil” gives historical resonance to the perpetually difficult balancing act between individual rights and national security.

Northwest readers will find further cause for interest, because this account involves a case that occurred in our own back yard.

For the book, author Jack Hamann—familiar to Washington residents as a long-time Seattle-based television reporter and documentary producer—draws from a report he filed nearly 20 years ago for KING-TV.

Even then, it was a historical nugget he had unearthed while covering an unrelated story about expansion of the sewage treatment plant in Seattle’s Discovery Park—formerly Fort Lawton. In the fort’s cemetery was a striking, World War II-era gravestone for an Italian POW who died while in US custody.

A little further investigation revealed that the prisoner, Guglielmo Olivotto, was believed to have been lynched during a riot between a company of African-American soldiers and a couple of barracks’ worth of Italian POWs.

The racially charged and internationally sensitive incident spawned the longest and largest army court-martial of World War II.

Despite being hampered by a shockingly incompetent initial investigation that resulted in evidence being corrupted, lost, or intentionally eradicated, Trial Judge Advocate Leon Jaworski (later of Watergate fame) was tenacious in his prosecution of 43 black soldiers for charges ranging from rioting to murder. He was not above playing on the prejudices of the time to enhance his case, and entrenched institutional segregation further undermined the soldiers’ chances for a thorough and fair hearing.

Defense Attorney William Beeks, a Seattle lawyer, was able to ensure that none of the accused was hanged, although several were sentenced to prison and stripped of their right to an honorable discharge.

In all of this, the author suggests, the person most likely to have been Olivotto’s murderer was a white man who was able to wiggle off the hook because racial fears held sway.

To reconstruct this disturbing picture of the warped prosecution of justice, Hamann criss-crossed the country, poring over hundreds of recently declassified military documents and interviewing scores of people who had been connected to the case.

The author does a stellar job of fleshing out the prevalent forces of the time—the lamentable prejudices, the legitimate fears, and the grinding stresses of a nation at war.

Even so, it becomes clear to the reader that more should have been done to ensure that matters were carried out in adherence to the highest standards. At too many levels and too many junctures, the players in this real-life drama opted for the easy way out instead of striving for the ideal. Senseless violence, debased standards and wasted human potential were the unfortunate results.

This is the important lesson we can take away from “On American Soil”—to apply to our own lives and to require of our elected officials.

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The Bookmonger is Barbara Lloyd McMichael, who writes this weekly column focusing on the books, authors and publishers of the Pacific Northwest. She can be reached at bkmonger@nwlink.com.