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Tom Lane and Victoria Whited stare at a satellite image of Butner, taken a decade ago, that hangs in Butner Town Hall. A map of a World War II-era Army

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Tom Lane and Victoria Whited stare at a satellite image of Butner, taken a decade ago, that hangs in Butner Town Hall. A map of a World War II-era Army

Tom Lane and Victoria Whited stare at a satellite image of Butner, taken a decade ago, that hangs in Butner Town Hall. A map of a World War II-era Army training camp overlays the image. Lane and Whited trace the streets on the map, which line up perfectly with those of the aerial photograph. Town Hall, on Central Avenue, is right about where base headquarters was.

Before Camp Butner, there was no town here, only farmland. In 1942, the federal government constructed the approximately 40,000-acre training facility, which operated until 1947. After the war, the camp was defunct, and the town of Butner grew in its place.

Camp Butner Society President Victoria Whited and Vice President Tom Lane are keepers of the base’s fascinating history.

Camp Butner Society President Victoria Whited (right) and Vice President Tom Lane (left) are keepers of the base’s fascinating history. photograph by Charles Harris

Since 2015, the Camp Butner Society has operated a museum to commemorate the massive effort that went into building the base and training tens of thousands of soldiers for one of the deadliest wars in modern history. Lane, the organization’s vice president, has lived in Butner for most of his life, and has been involved with the society since the beginning. Whited, the group’s president, became interested in Camp Butner when she started teaching history at Vance Granville Community College while living in Raleigh. “It’s an intellectual frontier,” she says. “It’s exciting because there are a lot of unknowns.”

Here’s what is known: In August 1941, planning officially began for what would become Camp Butner. When Japan bombed Pearl Harbor that December, the need for the installation became more urgent. On January 30, 1942, landowners in the area began receiving notices to vacate their properties — and quickly. Some were given only 30 days to pack everything they wanted to take with them and leave. An estimated 400 to 500 families in the area were dispossessed of their land — and not all of them went quietly. Some had to be forcibly removed.

Once they were gone, many of their homes and farm buildings were destroyed. “I had one man who told me about his grandfather who lost property,” Lane says. “They had loaded everything up and started out, and he remembered he’d left his toolbox in the barn. He turned around, and by the time they got back, all the buildings were on fire because that was the quickest way they could clear the property.”

Illustration depicting overhead view of Camp Butner in 1942

The base’s hospital, and other buildings were built in 1942 to aid the war effort. Photography courtesy of State Archives of North Carolina

Construction of the camp began on March 6. “What you see,” Lane says, gesturing at the aerial image and map, “was built basically in four and a half months.”

It took a concerted effort of more than 15,000 laborers. Workers were bused in from Greensboro and other cities for each shift. Construction was underway 24 hours a day, seven days a week. “A building was being completed every 15 minutes,” Whited says.

“Quite a few folks who had worked here commented that they’d drive in on a dirt street in the morning and out on a paved street [in the evening],” Lane adds.

Proof of how quickly buildings were constructed can be seen at the Camp Butner Museum, housed in one room of the camp’s sports complex, which today is used for town events and private parties. Inside, eight-inch boards were nailed to fill a gap where other boards were cut too short. Functionality was prioritized over aesthetics.

The construction of the sports complex shows evidence of wartime shortages, too, as seen in the stunning lamella roof — an arched style where wooden supports, rather than metal ones, are arranged in rhombic form. “Five guys put the roof structure up in four days,” Lane says.

Black and white photo of the gymnasium in Camp Butner

The wooden frame for the gymnasium’s roof indicates the shortage of materials during wartime.  Photography courtesy of State Archives of North Carolina

On August 4, 1942, the largest flag flying in the United States at that time was raised over Camp Butner as the training center was officially opened. Only days before, up to 35,000 troops had arrived from all over the country. The 78th “Lightning” Infantry Division was the first to arrive, as they would be training the other divisions. Eventually, it was redesignated as a combat unit and deployed to Europe, where the soldiers helped breach the Germans’ Siegfried Line.

The 35th, 89th, and Fourth “Ivy” infantry divisions also trained at the camp. The Fourth “Ivy” came to Camp Butner in 1945, having previously fought at D-Day and the Battle of the Bulge, where they suffered some of the U.S. Army’s highest casualty rates of the war. They were retraining to go to Japan when the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945, rendering a U.S. invasion of Japan unnecessary.

By April of the following year, the camp was almost fully deactivated. It was officially closed in January 1947. The state purchased much of the base for one dollar, and used the old hospital to create a psychiatric facility. People began moving to the area to work there, and the town of Butner, operated by the state, sprang into existence.

• • •

Lane and his family moved to Butner in 1947, when he was 9 years old. In the Camp Butner Museum, a photograph of him with his parents, brothers, and sister sits on a display case. The family is standing in front of their new home, a former administrative building that had been converted into a house. Many of the old structures were repurposed in this way. Others were broken down, their boards numbered for reassembly elsewhere. Some were moved whole.

Another photo shows four soldiers in helmets climbing a rope ladder. “That was my playground equipment, about 300 yards through the woods from my house,” Lane says. “It was an obstacle course right next to the runway.” Lane also cut off a section of the ladder to use in the treehouse that he built between C and D streets.

In high school, Lane worked at the community swimming pool, which had been repurposed from a camp recreational facility. His freshman year, he went out for the baseball team, which played on the ball field where the Army teams used to play, behind the current town hall. He’s also been a lifelong member of Community Methodist Church, one of the original 11 chapels that were built for the camp.

Black-and-white photo of Tom Lane and his family in Camp Butner

Lane and his family lived in a former camp building. photograph by Charles Harris

Children climbing up the base's cargo net at Camp Butner

Lane played on the base’s cargo net climbing wall as a child. Photography courtesy of State Archives of North Carolina

Butner was operated by the state until 2007, when it was at last incorporated as a town. After the first mayor pro tempore left office, Lane became the second town mayor, and the first to complete a full term. He served for eight years and is now a town councilman.

Today, Lane and Whited walk through the museum, pointing out photographs, maps, and artifacts. A white three-ring binder contains a list of the heads of household of families who lost their land. A corresponding map depicts where each property owner lived. Whited has done research in the National Archives on the process of dislocating the farmers and establishing ownership so that they could be compensated. But it’s impossible to pinpoint just how many people were displaced, because there are no records for the tenant farmers and sharecroppers who were living here before the camp was built.

Tools and medicine bottles in a glass case are artifacts that were left behind by the farmers who were dispossessed. In an adjacent case are stone tools and arrowheads that were found here. Prior to the arrival of Europeans, this area was on the Occaneechi Trail, a major Indian trading path. “A lot of people see [Camp Butner], and they understand dispossession,” Whited says. “[Native Americans experienced] an act of dispossession here, as well. It’s important for us to remember that this has happened plenty of times before.”

Aerial photo of town hall.

At Town Hall, an aerial photo and overlaid map show just how much the camp influenced the town. photograph by Charles Harris

One of the reasons this area was chosen for the camp is because of the existing railroad infrastructure. Part of the museum is dedicated to the quartermaster depot in Charlotte, which processed materials that were shipped to the camp.

Mess kits on display bring back childhood memories for Lane, who was active in Boy Scouts. “We never bought Boy Scout equipment,” he says. “It was too expensive. We went to the surplus store and bought Army stuff.”

There’s a display of items that soldiers brought back from their time overseas. Perhaps the most interesting is a German helmet from the taking of the Ludendorff Bridge at Remagen, a critical tactical move for the Allies. A map hanging on the wall depicts the movements of the 78th “Lightning” Infantry Division as they secured an area in Germany. “Taking that bridge is credited with bringing the war to an end much sooner, at least in the European Theater,” Whited says. Once, a man touring the museum began to weep when he saw the helmet. He explained that he was the fourth man across the bridge that day.

Some of the arrowheads found in Butner — on display at the Camp Butner Museum — date as far back as 4000 BC.

Some of the arrowheads found in Butner — on display at the Camp Butner Museum — date as far back as 4000 BC. photograph by Charles Harris

A section of the museum is dedicated to artwork painted by prisoners of war who were held at Camp Butner, which operated one of the largest POW camps in the state. “This country followed the Geneva Convention pretty well,” Whited says. “They were well fed, which is more than a lot of them could say when they were serving Nazi Germany near the end of the war.”

One Italian POW had such a great experience at Camp Butner that, after his death, his grandson traveled from Italy to Butner to meet the nice people of whom his grandfather had spoken. After his visit, the grandson sent some of his grandfather’s medals from the Italian Army to be displayed in the museum.

Above these artifacts, sweetheart pillowcases hang from the ceiling. Soldiers sent the pillowcases home to their wives and girlfriends, who would stuff them with a pillow, giving the women “something to cuddle” while their men were away, Lane says. The cases could be bought, along with other souvenirs, at the post exchange, which was like a drugstore. Soldiers could gather there and socialize over a banana split.

Sweetheart pillowcase on display at Camp Butner

In the Camp Butner Museum, sweetheart pillowcases remind visitors of the families that each soldier left behind to train and fight. photograph by Charles Harris

Other forms of entertainment at Camp Butner included reading at one of the base’s libraries or seeing movies in one of several theaters. Soldiers could also watch performances by the United Services Organizations at a large amphitheater and attend dances at the sports complex with young women who were bused in from surrounding communities. But many soldiers liked to get their kicks in Durham, Creedmoor, Oxford, or Henderson.

For Black soldiers, however, such travel proved difficult. White soldiers were given priority when loading buses to go off-base, which meant that often there was no room for Black soldiers. After some Black soldiers overturned two buses in frustration, vehicles were dedicated for their use.

Still, traveling away from the base could be dangerous for Black men. Private Booker T. Spicely boarded a bus in Durham and was asked by the driver to move seats. Spicely argued, and when he left the bus, the driver got off and shot him twice. The driver was acquitted of the murder charge, but the crime helped revitalize the North Carolina branch of the NAACP.

• • •

Butner today still shows evidence of once being an Army training camp. The streets are named with letters and numbers like they were when they were part of the camp, something that’s uncommon in towns this small. Townspeople worship at two of the original chapels each Sunday. The water plant that was built for the camp still serves the town, along with much of Granville County. The water tower reads “1942.”

West D and 8th streets in Butner

Streets in Butner are still named as they were during camp years — with a simple letter or number. photograph by Charles Harris

Residents still find remnants of camp life in their yards, and often hand those over to the Camp Butner Society to display in the museum. Whited and Lane are happy to get them. “Each object tells a story,” Whited says. “When it comes to [the Greatest Generation], most of them are gone now, and the only thing that we really have left are the objects.”

That generation survived the Great Depression and won a worldwide war. Their accomplishments — like building this base in such a short time — are incredible. And they did it all because they were able to come together — one nation, indivisible — and, thanks to those who trained here and fought abroad, maintained liberty for their country.

The Camp Butner Museum is open by appointment and from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. on the first Saturday of each month. For more information, email museum@campbutner.org.

Camp Butner Museum
416 24th Street
Butner, NC 27509
campbutner.org

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This story was published on Oct 29, 2024

Rebecca Woltz

Rebecca is the staff writer at Our State.