Tensions are rising in Chicago after President Donald Trump confirmed he is sending National Guard troops to the city in response to a violent Labor Day weekend in which 54 people were shot and eight were killed.
Statistics show violent crime in Chicago is at its lowest in a decade, and murders during the summer were reportedly the lowest since 1965. But Trump is sending troops regardless, fueling speculation that the president has ulterior motives—asserting his dominance and fulfilling an ego bigger than the Willis Tower, the city’s iconic landmark.
On Chicago’s South and West Sides, residents fear that federal troops will use heavy-handed tactics to racially profile and harass innocent Black citizens.
Governor J.B. Pritzker, Mayor Brandon Johnson, and Cook County Board President Toni Preckwinkle are among Illinois leaders who oppose Trump’s plan. A federal judge recently ruled that Trump’s deployment of federal troops in Los Angeles in June was illegal.
In Illinois, National Guard troops will likely be stationed at the Great Lakes Naval Station in Waukegan. It was there in 1941 that a group of Black naval officers from Chicago, known as the Golden 13, began their quest to desegregate the Navy after 146 years of racial exclusion.
As Illinois anticipates the arrival of Trump’s troops, another forgotten story looms large in American history—Fort 43, a group of unsung Black Army heroes whose defiance remains one of the boldest acts of military resistance during the Civil Rights era.
In April 1968, as riots raged and buildings burned on Chicago’s West Side following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., 43 Black Army soldiers were arrested for refusing to be deployed to the city as “riot-control” officers. They were court-martialed and punished for disobeying orders. Today, they remain largely forgotten.
With unwavering courage, the soldiers demonstrated one of the boldest acts of civil disobedience at Fort Hood, a massive military installation in Killeen, Texas. On August 23, 1968, over 100 Black GIs gathered at a main intersection on the base to protest being sent to Chicago, where the Democratic National Convention was being held. Their orders were to provide “riot control” during the convention, which came on the heels of King’s assassination and Senator Robert F. Kennedy’s murder.
By this time, many Black families had already lost loved ones in the Vietnam War, a conflict King himself had publicly opposed. The assassinations further deepened resentment and distrust of the U.S. government.
In Chicago, federal officers cracked down brutally on demonstrators outside the Democratic National Convention at the Conrad Hilton Hotel. Protesters demanded that civil rights be prioritized on the Democratic platform while Black Chicago remained in anguish over King’s death.
The convention had not yet begun when Fort Hood troops learned they would be deployed. The night before their scheduled departure, 60 Black soldiers staged a sit-in at a key intersection on the base.
“The people we are supposed to control, the rioters, are probably our own race,” one of the soldiers reportedly said. “We shouldn’t have to go out there and do wrong to our own people.” Others insisted they had served honorably and done everything asked of them but drew the line at treating fellow citizens as “hostiles.”
The sit-in lasted all night. By morning, 17 protesters had left after military officials urged them to disperse.
According to accounts, the remaining soldiers were charged with disobeying a legal order to disperse. During their trial, defense lawyers argued that no such order had been given. One protester, Albert Henry, a Vietnam War veteran wounded twice in combat, reportedly told the court: “What is going on at Fort Hood is not right, and my conviction won’t stop anything.”
According to History.com, the 43 men were eventually detained. Most were court-martialed, demoted, and sentenced to hard labor for refusing orders. The protest of the Fort Hood 43 remains one of the largest acts of civil disobedience by members of the American military, though it was overshadowed by the chaos of the 1968 Democratic National Convention.
It is unclear how many members of Fort 43 are still alive today or how their lives and careers unfolded. Author Michael Klonsky said he lost contact with them years ago, and their lawyer, Michael Kennedy, passed away recently.
The courage of Fort 43 resonates today as Illinois prepares for Trump’s National Guard deployment. Veterans Against the War and military legal advocates have denounced the planned deployment as “illegal” and “immoral.”
They noted that under the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ), service members not only have the right but, in some cases, the duty to refuse illegal orders.
“Military members must know they are not alone in questioning their orders or the morality of participating in these deployments,” the group said in a statement. “They need to know they have rights and the support of our community and state government in exercising their options. Military members should not be used as political pawns or abandoned in a legal battle over their orders.
“We must recall that alongside the history of military violence in this country there is also a long and storied history of GI resistance. We call on the governor and other elected officials to support military members who wish to exercise their rights to dissent, protest, and resist illegal orders.”
The sacrifice of the Fort 43 soldiers, once sidelined in history, now stands as a reminder that acts of resistance from within the ranks have shaped the broader struggle for civil rights. As troops again prepare to descend on Chicago, their legacy remains a powerful cautionary tale.