Edward Slovik, the Only US Soldier Executed Since the Civil War
By: Jordan Fearn
Tags: World War II, History, Culture, War

Edward Slovik, the Only US Soldier Executed Since the Civil War

A Portrait of Edward Slovik. Credit: Unknown, Wikimedia Commons

World War II (WWII) erupted in September 1939 and, in December 1941, the United States (U.S.) joined in. Among them was the twenty-one-year-old Eddie Slovik, a rifleman of the 109th Infantry Regiment of the U.S. 28th Infantry Divison, he would become one of the millions of casualties in the war. Except, it would be his own country that killed him.

Pre-war

Edward Donald Slovik was born on the 18th of February 1920 in Detroit, Michigan, into a Polish-American family. As a child, he was a troublemaker known to the police, at age twelve he and his friends broke into a foundry and were arrested. He was guilty of many other crimes such as theft, disturbing the peace, and breaking and entering, until he was finally sent to prison in October 1937 at the age of seventeen. He was released in September of 1938 on parole but was swiftly sent back four months later when he and his friends crashed a car while driving while they were drunk.

Slovik didn’t get out of prison until April 1942, when he was aged twenty-two. By this point, the United States of America had been fighting in the war for four months. The Battle of Midway was only a couple of months away but Slovik wasn’t drafted due to his extensive criminal record, he was cited as ‘morally unfit’ for service, receiving a classification of 4-F.

Once out of prison he got a job in Dearborn, Michigan at Montella Plumbing and Heating, where he also met his future wife Antoinette Wisniewski, the bookkeeper for the company’s owner. The two married in November of 1942, but their happy marriage didn’t last long.

Towards the end of 1943, the U.S. Army was in need of reinforcements, Slovik was reclassified to 1-A which meant he was ‘available for unrestricted military service’ and was drafted in January 1944. He’d received the notice the night he and his wife had moved into their new home.

On the 24th of January 1944, Slovik arrived at Camp Wolters in Texas, during his six-month stay he was trained as a rifleman. During his training at Camp Wolters, the invasion of Normandy had given the allies a foothold into Nazi-occupied France, when he was shipped to France, in August 1944, the allies were crossing the Seine river and at the gates of Paris.

Slovik did not enjoy his time at Camp Wolters. He hated guns and was happy living with his wife, he reportedly wrote the following letter to his mother during his time at the camp:

All I know mommy is that ever since I was born I’ve had hard luck. Then I lived 15 months with my darling wife and was so happy with her. Now they break up my happiness and try to kill us both and take everything we got. Why don’t they leave us alone. We didn’t do anything to anybody, did we? — Edward D. Slovik at Camp Wolters, July 1944.

War and desertion

Slovik was sent to join the 28th Infantry Division as a replacement soldier. The division had suffered a large number of casualties at the time and many men just like Slovik were sent in to fill the gaps.

The 28th Infantry Division marching through the streets of Paris on the 29th of August, 1944, four days after he liberation of Paris. Credit: AP Photo/Peter J. Carroll

Shortly after his joining the 109th Infantry was driven through the remnants of the Battle of the Falaise Pocket. A scarring experience for a young man who’d never stepped foot onto a battlefield before, Eisenhower himself wrote:

“The battlefield at Falaise was unquestionably one of the greatest “killing fields” of any of the war areas. Forty-eight hours after the closing of the gap I was conducted through it on foot, to encounter scenes that could be described only by Dante. It was literally possible to walk for hundreds of yards at a time, stepping on nothing but dead and decaying flesh.” — Five-Star General Dwight D. Eisenhower

Slovik wouldn’t last long though. On the day he joined his regiment’s Company G they passed through the town of Elbeuf where they came under artillery fire. Once the artillery fire had stopped his company endeavored to move further East towards their objective in Germany, but Slovik refused and stayed in his foxhole. The company left him — deserting was a common occurrence and not met with any surprise.

When he did finally leave he found a Canadian Provost unit (provost being the military police) with whom he spent six weeks. They handed him over to the American Military Police who returned him to his regiment. However, he threatened to run away again. Had he stayed, it’s unlikely that he would have received any kind of disciplinary action at all, but Slovik refused and handed in a note of confession.

Slovik note of confession. Credit: Historical Images Archive/Alamy Stock Photo

It’s hard to read, but it says:

“I Pvt. Eddie D. Slovik №36896415 confess to the desertion of the United States Army. At the time of my desertion we were in Albuff in France. I came to Albuff as a replacement. They were shelling the town and we were told to dig in for the night. The following morning they were shelling us again. I was so scared nerves and trembling that at the time the other replacements moved out I couldn’t move. I stayed there in the foxhole till it was quiet and I was able to move. I then walked in town. Not seeing any of our troops so I stayed over night at the French hospital. The next morning I turned myself over the Canadian Provost Corp. After being with them six weeks I was turned over to the American M.P. They turned me loose. I told my commanding officer my story. I said that if I had to go out there again I’d run away. He said there was nothing he could do for me, so I ran away again and I’LL RUN AWAY AGAIN IF I HAVE TO GO OUT THERE. “ — Edward D. Slovik, 1944

After he handed it to one of the American Military Police he was invited to tear up the letter — recommended to do it even! If he returned to combat there was still a good chance he’d get away with nothing but a slap on the wrist, men were deserting by the thousands and the military had nothing to gain by punishing them for going back to the fight. Slovik refused the offer.

On the 11th of November 1944, he appeared before a nine-man general court-martial. They unanimously agreed upon the death penalty. Slovik appealed the decision and it was sent up the chain of command, going to Major General Norman D. Cota, commander of the 28th division, who said, “If I had let Slovik accomplish his purpose — I don’t know how I could have gone up to the line and looked a good soldier in the face.”

Eventually, the trial reached Dwight D. Eisenhower’s desk. The Five-Star General and future President of the United States was in no position to be merciful. It was December of 1944 by the time he heard of Slovik. The Nazis were making one major offensive that resulted in the Battle of the Bulge in the Ardennes forest of France.

The Battle of the Bulge was the bloodiest in the entirety of WWII for the U.S. army. Men were dying by the thousands. The United States Army Center of Military History puts the casualties at 75,000 for their army. Desertion, much to the detriment of Slovik, was also becoming a problem, and so he approved the execution. The higher-ups in the military needed to find a solution to the problem and so they made an example of Slovik.

Death

In Eastern France on the 31st of January 1945, Edward D. Slovik was executed by a twelve-man firing squad and was the first — and the only man — in the U.S. military to be executed for desertion since the American Civil War. He did not die immediately, the doctor on the scene who was to confirm his death found him still breathing and he is reported to have asked “What’s the matter with you guys? Can’t you shoot straight?” As none of the bullets had hit Slovik’s heart. Still, he died before the gunmen could reload for the second volley.

Over 20,000 U.S. soldiers were tried for desertion during WWII. Forty-nine were sentenced to death, with forty-eight of those sentences being commuted later on. It’s argued that when his death was announced the higher-ups that ordered it thought Slovik’s would be commuted as well, but it’s likely that the unfortunate timing of its arrival at the desk of Eisenhower cemented it in stone.

Slovik was buried in a graveyard in France alongside the bodies of ninety-five murderers and rapists. His grave was marked by a number instead of a name and was also blocked from view behind shrubbery. His wife petitioned her entire life to get his grave moved until she died in 1979, writing to seven presidents to try and get it returned to U.S. soil. In 1987, another WWII American-Polish veteran Bernard V. Calka petitioned president Ronald Regan to order the return of his body. Reagan approved the order and Calka raised $5000 to have the body moved to Detroit’s Woodmere Cemetary, where Slovik was buried next to his wife.