A Train Window Farewell
The faces lean out eagerly, some beaming with wide, boyish smiles, others caught in a quieter moment—solemn, perhaps uncertain. This WWI troop train mirrored similar send-offs taking place all over Michigan.
Dozens of young men press against the wooden frame of a railcar, waving goodbye from the windows of the New York Central Lines train. The words etched into the side of the car read “12-1,” chalked by hand, a simple mark for a journey far more complex.
The photograph, taken at Michigan Central Station sometime between 1917 and 1918, captures a quintessentially American moment in a global story: the departure of recruits and draftees to Camp Custer, their first step on the long road to war.
Detroit Answers the Call
By the time the Detroit News took this photo, the United States had entered World War I, and Detroit—already one of the nation’s industrial giants—was surging with energy. Factories converted for wartime production, war bond drives filled the streets, and patriotic fervor surged. But the beating heart of the war effort wasn’t just machinery or money—it was manpower.
In May 1917, Congress passed the Selective Service Act, requiring American men between the ages of 21 and 30 to register for the draft. Later expanded to include men up to age 45, it marked the moment the war became not just national policy, but personal reality. For thousands of young men in Detroit, that reality began at Michigan Central Station.
Michigan Central: The Grand Portal
Built in 1913, just four years before this photo was taken, Michigan Central Station was already a symbol of modern Detroit—its soaring ceilings and marble halls designed to inspire awe. But during wartime, it became something else: a place of partings.
The station saw off tens of thousands of soldiers during World War I. Mothers, fathers, siblings, and sweethearts gathered on the platforms for last embraces. Inside, the air was thick with emotion—pride, fear, and the heavy knowledge that some of those waving from the train windows would never return.
The Journey to Camp Custer
Their destination: Camp Custer, just outside Battle Creek, Michigan. It had been established in 1917 as a training base for the 85th Division of the National Army, named after Michigan’s own General George Armstrong Custer. From here, draftees were trained in everything from rifle handling to trench warfare—a crash course in modern combat.
Camp Custer trained over 100,000 men during World War I. Some of them would be sent to the Western Front, others would remain stateside, preparing for roles in logistics, administration, or reserve forces. But all of them had passed through this same threshold—boarding trains in cities like Detroit, with the cheers of strangers and the weight of history behind them.
What the Photograph Doesn’t Say
In the smiling faces and confident postures, we see hope. But behind the camera was a world of contradiction. America was a country still divided by race and class. African American draftees, who also served bravely, were often segregated, excluded from parades and public send-offs like this one.
The war would change these young men. Some would return broken. Some would not return at all. Many would come back with broadened views—of the world, of themselves, and of what America could be.
Legacy on the Tracks
This photograph, preserved by the Detroit News and taken by an anonymous staff photographer, endures not just as an image—but as a story. A moment when history paused long enough for a lens to catch it.
The train pulled out of Michigan Central Station and into a world forever changed.
As we look into the faces of these recruits—so full of life, so unaware of what lay ahead—we are reminded of a simple truth: that history is not made by generals and presidents alone. It is made by young men waving from train windows, stepping into the unknown with a uniform on their back and their city behind them.
Do You Have a Family Connection to WWI?
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