Attention: TDR Forum Junkies Iwo Jima Memorial
Written by Frank Doherty
Each year I am hired to go to Washington, DC, with the eighth grade class
from Clinton, Wisconsin, where I grew up, to videotape their trip. I greatly
enjoy visiting our nation's capitol, and each year I take some special
memories back with me. This fall's trip was especially memorable.
On the last night of our trip we stopped at the Iwo Jima Memorial. This
memorial is the largest bronze statue in the world and depicts one of the
most famous photographs in history; that of the six brave Marines raising
the American Flag at the top of a rocky hill on the island of Iwo Jima
during WW II.
Over one hundred students and chaperones piled off the buses and headed
towards the memorial. I noticed a solitary figure at the base of the statue,
and as I got closer he asked, "Where are you guys from?" I told him that we
were from Wisconsin. "Hey, I'm a cheesehead, too! Come gather around
cheeseheads, and I will tell you a story. "
James Bradley just happened to be in Washington, DC, to speak at the
memorial the following day. He was there that night to say good night to his
dad, who has since passed away. He was just about to leave when he saw the
buses pull up. I videotaped him as he spoke to us, and received his
permission to share what he said from my videotape. It is one thing to tour
the incredible monuments filled with history in Washington, DC, but it is
quite another to get the kind of insight we received that night. When all
had gathered around, he reverently began to speak. Here are his words that
night.
"My name is James Bradley and I'm from Antigo, Wisconsin. My dad is on that
statue, and I just wrote a book called "Flags of Our Fathers," which is #5
on the New York Times Best Seller list right now. It is the story of the six
boys you see behind me. Six boys raised the flag.
The first guy putting the pole in the ground is Harlon Block. Harlon was an
all-state football player. He enlisted in the Marine Corps with all the
senior members of his football team. They were off to play another type of
game. A game called "War. " But it didn't turn out to be a game. Harlon, at
the age of 21, died with his intestines in his hands. I don't say that to
gross you out, I say that because there are generals who stand in front of
this statue and talk about the glory of war. You guys need to know that most
of the boys in Iwo Jima were 17, 18, and 19 years old. (He pointed to the
statue).
You see this next guy? That's Rene Gagnon from New Hampshire. If you took
Rene's helmet off at the moment this photo was taken, and looked in the
webbing of that helmet, you would find a photograph of his girlfriend. Rene
put that in there for protection, because he was scared. He was 18 years
old. Boys won the battle of Iwo Jima. Boys. Not old men. The next guy here,
the third guy in this tableau, was Sergeant Mike Strank. Mike is my hero. He
was the hero of all these guys. They called him the "old man" because he was
so old. He was already 24. When Mike would motivate his boys in training
camp, he didn't say," Let's go kill some Japanese," or "Let's die for our
country. " He knew he was talking to little boys. Instead he would say, "You
do what I say, and I'll get you home to your mothers. "
The last guy on this side of the statue is Ira Hayes, a Pima Indian from
Arizona. Ira Hayes walked off Iwo Jima. He went into the White House with my
dad. President Truman told him, 'You're a hero. ' He told reporters, 'How can
I feel like a hero when 250 of my buddies hit the island with me, and only
27 of us walked off alive?' You take your class at school. 250 of you
spending a year together having fun, doing everything together. Then all 250
of you hit the beach, but only 27 of your classmates walk off alive. That
was Ira Hayes. He had images of horror in his mind. Ira Hayes died dead
drunk, face down in the gutter, at the age of 32, ten years after this
picture was taken.
The next guy, going around the statue, is Franklin Sousley from Hilltop,
Kentucky. A fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. His best friend, who is now 70, told
me, 'Yeah, you know, we took two cows up on the porch of the Hilltop General
Store. Then we strung wire across the stairs so the cows couldn't get down.
Then we fed them Epsom salts. Those cows crapped all night. ' Yes, he was a
fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. Franklin died on Iwo Jima at the age of 19. When
the telegram came to tell his mother that he was dead, it went to the
Hilltop General Store. A barefoot boy ran that telegram up to his mother's
farm. The neighbors could hear her scream all night and into the morning.
The neighbors lived a quarter of a mile away.
The next guy, as we continue to go around the statue, is my dad, John
Bradley from Antigo, Wisconsin, where I was raised. My dad lived until 1994,
but he would never give interviews. When Walter Cronkite's producers, or the
New York Times would call, we were trained as little boys to say, "No, I'm
sorry sir, my dad's not here. He is in Canada fishing. No, there is no phone
there, sir. No, we don't know when he is coming back. " My dad never fished
or even went to Canada. Usually he was sitting right at the table eating his
Campbell's soup. But we had to tell the press that he was out fishing. He
didn't want to talk to the press. You see, my dad didn't see himself as a
hero. Everyone thinks these guys are heroes, 'cause they are in a photo and
on a monument.
My dad knew better. He was a medic. John Bradley from Wisconsin was a
caregiver. On Iwo Jima he probably held over 200 boys as they died. And when
boys died in Iwo Jima, they writhed and screamed in pain. When I was a
little boy, my third grade teacher told me that my dad was a hero. When I
went home and told my dad that, he looked at me and said, 'I want you always
to remember that the heroes of Iwo Jima are the guys who did not come back.
Did NOT come back. '
'So that's the story about six nice young boys. Three died on Iwo Jima, and
three came back as national heroes. Overall 7,000 boys died on Iwo Jima in
the worst battle in the history of the Marine Corps. My voice is giving out,
so I will end here. Thank you for your time. "
Suddenly, the monument wasn't just a big old piece of metal with a flag
sticking out of the top. It came to life before our eyes with the heartfelt
words of a son who did indeed have a father who was a hero. Maybe not a hero
for the reasons most people would believe, but a hero, nonetheless.
We need to remember that God created this glorious world for us to live in
freely, but also at great sacrifice. Let us never forget from the
Revolutionary War to Afghanistan and all the wars in-between, that sacrifice
was made for our freedom. Remember to pray for those still in murderous
unrest around the World, and thank God for being alive in the greatest
country on earth.
Written by Frank Doherty
Each year I am hired to go to Washington, DC, with the eighth grade class
from Clinton, Wisconsin, where I grew up, to videotape their trip. I greatly
enjoy visiting our nation's capitol, and each year I take some special
memories back with me. This fall's trip was especially memorable.
On the last night of our trip we stopped at the Iwo Jima Memorial. This
memorial is the largest bronze statue in the world and depicts one of the
most famous photographs in history; that of the six brave Marines raising
the American Flag at the top of a rocky hill on the island of Iwo Jima
during WW II.
Over one hundred students and chaperones piled off the buses and headed
towards the memorial. I noticed a solitary figure at the base of the statue,
and as I got closer he asked, "Where are you guys from?" I told him that we
were from Wisconsin. "Hey, I'm a cheesehead, too! Come gather around
cheeseheads, and I will tell you a story. "
James Bradley just happened to be in Washington, DC, to speak at the
memorial the following day. He was there that night to say good night to his
dad, who has since passed away. He was just about to leave when he saw the
buses pull up. I videotaped him as he spoke to us, and received his
permission to share what he said from my videotape. It is one thing to tour
the incredible monuments filled with history in Washington, DC, but it is
quite another to get the kind of insight we received that night. When all
had gathered around, he reverently began to speak. Here are his words that
night.
"My name is James Bradley and I'm from Antigo, Wisconsin. My dad is on that
statue, and I just wrote a book called "Flags of Our Fathers," which is #5
on the New York Times Best Seller list right now. It is the story of the six
boys you see behind me. Six boys raised the flag.
The first guy putting the pole in the ground is Harlon Block. Harlon was an
all-state football player. He enlisted in the Marine Corps with all the
senior members of his football team. They were off to play another type of
game. A game called "War. " But it didn't turn out to be a game. Harlon, at
the age of 21, died with his intestines in his hands. I don't say that to
gross you out, I say that because there are generals who stand in front of
this statue and talk about the glory of war. You guys need to know that most
of the boys in Iwo Jima were 17, 18, and 19 years old. (He pointed to the
statue).
You see this next guy? That's Rene Gagnon from New Hampshire. If you took
Rene's helmet off at the moment this photo was taken, and looked in the
webbing of that helmet, you would find a photograph of his girlfriend. Rene
put that in there for protection, because he was scared. He was 18 years
old. Boys won the battle of Iwo Jima. Boys. Not old men. The next guy here,
the third guy in this tableau, was Sergeant Mike Strank. Mike is my hero. He
was the hero of all these guys. They called him the "old man" because he was
so old. He was already 24. When Mike would motivate his boys in training
camp, he didn't say," Let's go kill some Japanese," or "Let's die for our
country. " He knew he was talking to little boys. Instead he would say, "You
do what I say, and I'll get you home to your mothers. "
The last guy on this side of the statue is Ira Hayes, a Pima Indian from
Arizona. Ira Hayes walked off Iwo Jima. He went into the White House with my
dad. President Truman told him, 'You're a hero. ' He told reporters, 'How can
I feel like a hero when 250 of my buddies hit the island with me, and only
27 of us walked off alive?' You take your class at school. 250 of you
spending a year together having fun, doing everything together. Then all 250
of you hit the beach, but only 27 of your classmates walk off alive. That
was Ira Hayes. He had images of horror in his mind. Ira Hayes died dead
drunk, face down in the gutter, at the age of 32, ten years after this
picture was taken.
The next guy, going around the statue, is Franklin Sousley from Hilltop,
Kentucky. A fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. His best friend, who is now 70, told
me, 'Yeah, you know, we took two cows up on the porch of the Hilltop General
Store. Then we strung wire across the stairs so the cows couldn't get down.
Then we fed them Epsom salts. Those cows crapped all night. ' Yes, he was a
fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. Franklin died on Iwo Jima at the age of 19. When
the telegram came to tell his mother that he was dead, it went to the
Hilltop General Store. A barefoot boy ran that telegram up to his mother's
farm. The neighbors could hear her scream all night and into the morning.
The neighbors lived a quarter of a mile away.
The next guy, as we continue to go around the statue, is my dad, John
Bradley from Antigo, Wisconsin, where I was raised. My dad lived until 1994,
but he would never give interviews. When Walter Cronkite's producers, or the
New York Times would call, we were trained as little boys to say, "No, I'm
sorry sir, my dad's not here. He is in Canada fishing. No, there is no phone
there, sir. No, we don't know when he is coming back. " My dad never fished
or even went to Canada. Usually he was sitting right at the table eating his
Campbell's soup. But we had to tell the press that he was out fishing. He
didn't want to talk to the press. You see, my dad didn't see himself as a
hero. Everyone thinks these guys are heroes, 'cause they are in a photo and
on a monument.
My dad knew better. He was a medic. John Bradley from Wisconsin was a
caregiver. On Iwo Jima he probably held over 200 boys as they died. And when
boys died in Iwo Jima, they writhed and screamed in pain. When I was a
little boy, my third grade teacher told me that my dad was a hero. When I
went home and told my dad that, he looked at me and said, 'I want you always
to remember that the heroes of Iwo Jima are the guys who did not come back.
Did NOT come back. '
'So that's the story about six nice young boys. Three died on Iwo Jima, and
three came back as national heroes. Overall 7,000 boys died on Iwo Jima in
the worst battle in the history of the Marine Corps. My voice is giving out,
so I will end here. Thank you for your time. "
Suddenly, the monument wasn't just a big old piece of metal with a flag
sticking out of the top. It came to life before our eyes with the heartfelt
words of a son who did indeed have a father who was a hero. Maybe not a hero
for the reasons most people would believe, but a hero, nonetheless.
We need to remember that God created this glorious world for us to live in
freely, but also at great sacrifice. Let us never forget from the
Revolutionary War to Afghanistan and all the wars in-between, that sacrifice
was made for our freedom. Remember to pray for those still in murderous
unrest around the World, and thank God for being alive in the greatest
country on earth.
