‘The Six Triple Eight’ Is a Powerful Tribute to the Army’s First All-Black, All-Woman Battalion

In the vast and ever-expanding universe of military filmmaking, World War II movies are a dime a dozen. It’s everyone’s favorite war, and directors have been making movies about it since before Victory in Europe Day even took place in May 1945. And among scores of WWII movies, there’s usually a common thread: In order to be accurate, war must be depicted as an ugly affair that forces people to do ugly things. As Union Army Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman once wrote: “War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it.” 

But director Tyler Perry does just that in his new movie, “The Six Triple Eight,” taking that notion of the inherent ugliness of war and flipping it on its head. The result is a poignant and powerful tribute to the Army’s first all-Black, all-female battalion, the 6888 Central Postal Directory Battalion, one that explores war as an opportunity to find the beauty in rising above. The women represented in the movie, as they did in real life nearly 80 years ago, face down the ugliness of the world while performing the critical role of processing an entire war’s worth of mail -- and they did so with stunning grace.

“The Six Triple Eight” opens with a grim European battle scene as American troops advance from trenches across enemy lines. A shaky soldier is doing his best to avoid being counted among the troops that are picked off and blown up as ground forces spar and planes drop bombs. An aircraft goes down, and the soldier stops to attempt to drag the pilot to safety. Unfortunately, he’s already gone. But the soldier plucks a bloodied letter from his jacket.

Back in the United States, young Abram David, a Jewish boy, picks up Lena Derriecott (Ebony Obsidian) from school. A white classmate insinuates that he should not be spending his time with Lena because of her skin color. But he ignores her, clearly in love.

The year is 1943, and Abram is headed to fight in the war, while 17-year-old Lena’s mother hopes she’ll go to college. Though they have thus far always been just friends, on the eve of his departure, Abram tells Lena he loves her, asks her to wait for him and vows to write to her. She diligently checks the mail each day, but no letters arrive. 

You realize shortly after that Abram is the pilot from the opening sequence, and his letter to Lena, picked up by the soldier, is lost amid a sea of unsent correspondence. 

When Lena finally learns of his death, it drives her to join the Women’s Army Corps (WAC). Under the tutelage of Capt. Charity Adams (Kerry Washington), the Black women are separated from their white counterparts for basic training. Even with the proficiency bred by their fearless commander and eagerness to serve the United States (despite how the country has treated them), they are unable to secure any kind of posting. Adams, who demands excellence in all things, deals both publicly and privately with all manner of racism and sexism. Her message to the women under her charge, however, is always to rise above those seeking to diminish them.

Meanwhile, in Washington, D.C., first lady Eleanor Roosevelt (Susan Sarandon) receives an unexpected caller at the White House -- a mother who, for years, has not received a single piece of correspondence from any of her sons serving in the war. But Roosevelt, along with her close friend Mary McLeod Bethune (Oprah Winfrey), have just the women for the job, and the president agrees, much to the chagrin of his generals.

Thus, the Central Postal Directory Battalion is born, and newly promoted Maj. Adams is off to Europe with it. Their task is to sort through 17 million pieces of mail in six months. No one else in the Army believes they can do it. But Adams is convinced they will succeed -- they must.

Throughout, Washington’s portrayal of Adams is electric. She slides perfectly into the role of polished officer, and the way she carries herself is inspired. 

“She had very high expectations, but she gave these ladies the love that they needed to be able to meet those expectations,” Washington said of Adams in an interview with Military.com.

As Lena struggles to make her way in the WAC, Adams harshly critiques her abilities as a soldier and how it reflects on the unit. Lena persists, but her grief is palpable, having both dreams and visions of Abram. But as the film progresses, she comes into herself. Her voice, high at the beginning, becomes tempered, mature. Obsidian notes that she grows up in her grieving process.

“She used her struggle and her pain and her sense of loss for something so powerful and so good,” Obsidian told Military.com. “I just think that at 17, that's so selfless.”

When Lena and the other members of the unit get down to the task of sorting the mail, she breaks down watching the mishandling of dog tags. She then tells the story of Abram to a handful of other girls, admitting she never got a letter from him despite his promise to write.

Adams overhears this and softens, admitting that she couldn’t put a face to their mission before, feeling it was a menial assignment meant to degrade the battalion. She instead comes to realize that for those who lost loved ones, families back home and soldiers on the front, the letters are a lifeline that needs to be restored.

“[Adams] was so authentic,” Washington notes. “She expected the best from [the 6888], and she was an intense leader. But as strict as she was, she was kind; as fierce as she was, she was compassionate.”

In reality, the 6888, under Adams, sifted through millions of pieces of mail, not in six months, but three. In the face of the world’s worst war, boundless racism and sexism to boot, these women did what no man in the Army appeared able to -- bring mail and, by extension, hope or closure to everyone.

Toward the end of the film, one of the girls finds Abram’s letter to Lena in a pile she’s sorting, and the audience finally gets to see the impact of a singular letter. It brings her closure, rounds out the narrative and shows the success of the 6888 in its ability to get mail where it belonged.

Despite this feat, however, the unit returned home to little fanfare. The unit was disbanded in February 1946. No real recognition was paid to these revolutionary women until 2021, when President Joe Biden awarded the Six Triple Eight the Congressional Gold Medal. 

Perry, the director, noted that he met Derriecott when she was 99 years old and felt her story, and that of the entire battalion, needed to be told.

“I wanted the world to know how important what they did was, and also to speak to anyone else who thinks that what they do, or their job, is not important,” Perry told Military.com. “Everything that we do, especially in the military, every member of the military matters. I don't want anyone who joins our military to think that their job is small, because everything means something.”

The ugly job of sorting mail was meant to demean these women. Instead, it allowed them to shine.

“I think the story resonates for really anybody who's ever felt underestimated or disrespected or doubted in any way,” Washington said. “We all have the courage to meet our calling.”

Washington also added that although this film was portraying events from the 1940s, it still holds a lot of messages for the world we live in now.

“Even though this is 80 years ago, many of us still come up against racism and misogyny or prejudice, for whatever it is that makes us unique and different in the world,” she said. “These women didn't think that what made them unique and different was a weakness. They knew that it was their strength, and that's something that we really all need to be leaning into at this moment.”

“The Six Triple Eight” will be available to stream on Netflix, beginning on Dec. 20.