MONROE - For most people, images of WWII came to America in the form of black and white photographs and newspaper clippings.
Other Americans brought home those images in the form of full, 3-D, living-color memories of their experiences.
One of the most famous photographs of that era came out of the Pacific theater: the raising of the United States flag at Iwo Jima on Feb. 23, 1945, taken by photographer Joe Rosenthal.
As a young Marine, Carl Munz, Monroe, watched from the beaches below as the first flag was raised. A second flag was raised for the famous photo.
Memories of that time are still fresh in his mind; all that is faded is his resolve not to react to the emotions.
"We were so damn glad to see that flag go up ..." he said.
Munz and others were unloading landing crafts on that famous day, which has since been etched in memories and on film. An announcement came over a loud speaker that the American flag was about to be raised atop a volcano, Mount Suribachi, 600 feet above them.
"Every man on the beach stopped what they were doing and saluted the flag" as it came to its full height, Munz said. "We lost a lot of men on those four days."
Intense fighting to take the island ended with many casualties, even though American air forces pounded Iwo in the longest sustained aerial offensive of the war.
"No other island received as much preliminary pounding as did Iwo Jima," said Chester W. Nimitz, commander-in-chief of the Pacific Fleet at the time.
But Japanese underground fortresses were barely touched. The U.S. sent more Marines to Iwo than to any other battle - 110,000 Marines in 880 ships. The convoy sailed from Hawaii to Iwo in 40 days. It was the largest armada invasion at that time in the Pacific War. Twenty-one thousand Japanese defenders, burrowed into the volcanic rock of Iwo Jima, awaited them.
Munz said he later climbed Mount Suribachi after the flag was raised, "to see what it looked like from the top."
There are many stories Munz likes to tell about his time in the Marines: when he was stationed in Camp Pendleton, Calif.; in Hawaii after Iwo Jima; and in Japan during the occupation.
Those memories are bright and livid, and bring a bashful smile to his face. But some stories about all the lovely girls he met are filtered and censored - perhaps a little too risqué for children and in mixed company.
While at Camp Pendleton, men on weekend passes would hitchhike 100 miles north to Los Angeles, according to Munz, who was 19 when he entered the service.
"Sometimes we would hitchhike 35 miles (south) to San Diego for a better chance to get a ride to LA," he said. "Truckers were the biggest thing."
On one occasion, the men caught a ride with a trucker pulling a trailer loaded with a Caterpillar. "There were so many men you couldn't see the Caterpillar," Munz added.
He also tells the story about a time when he had been out with a girl and didn't get back to base on time. He missed curfew by a half hour. The military busted his rank from sergeant to corporal, for being AWOL from 7:30 to 10:30 p.m.
After their time on Iwo Jima, the Marines happily returned to Hawaii to rebuild. "We all wanted to get off that (damn) island," Munz said
When Japan's surrender was announced in September, the jubilant men were locked down, before heading to Japan.
"They wouldn't let us out of camp," Munz said laughing. "They were afraid we'd tear up that place up."
"Get ready, we're going, they told us," Munz said.
In his three and a half years of service during WWII, Munz never got a furlough to come home. Not after Iwo Jima, not during the Japan occupation. It's something he is not happy about, even today.
"Guys coming out of boot camp were getting furloughs," he said. "I couldn't catch a break."
The memory of a set of dress blues gone to waste also exasperates him. Munz paid $110 for them in 1943 and sent them home.
"I wanted to wear them when I got home" on furlough, he said.
He eventually sold the uniform, and now wishes he hadn't, but he did wear it one time.
Munz said he and his wife Marian attended a skating party in Monroe several years after the war. A young woman there was wearing her brother's dress blues uniform.
"I told her, I'm going home to put on my dress blues, and we'll skate together," Munz said. It still fit him at the time, and so the two skated together.
"We won first place," he said with a smile.
Born in Green County 89 years ago, Munz now lives alone. Marian died last year after 63 years and one day of marriage. Carl now keeps an active life of card playing, bus tours and community events. He is a life-time member of the Disabled American Veterans, and the Veterans of Foreign Wars, and a yearly member of the American Legion.
He keeps a scrapbook of his WWII days, filled with his military paperwork, black and white photos of his buddies and news clippings of their lives and obituaries.
His living room is decorated with a black and white picture of his 5th Maine Division and a large color print depicting the Iwo Jima flag raising. Munz still remembers the names of the men raising that flag.
Colorful military ribbons and medals prominently displayed in a wooden frame are fading, showing signs of their age. Munz plans to have them reissued and the new ones covered behind glass.
Upstairs in his bedroom, one original painting hangs above his bed on the wall. Scott Signer did the painting about 45 years ago as a Monroe High School student, Munz said. Munz's son, Dusty, bought the painting and gave it to his father as a gift.
It is the artist's colored rendition of Rosenthal's famous Iwo Jima photo. It still holds perhaps the most meaning for Munz among all his military memories, he said.
Other Americans brought home those images in the form of full, 3-D, living-color memories of their experiences.
One of the most famous photographs of that era came out of the Pacific theater: the raising of the United States flag at Iwo Jima on Feb. 23, 1945, taken by photographer Joe Rosenthal.
As a young Marine, Carl Munz, Monroe, watched from the beaches below as the first flag was raised. A second flag was raised for the famous photo.
Memories of that time are still fresh in his mind; all that is faded is his resolve not to react to the emotions.
"We were so damn glad to see that flag go up ..." he said.
Munz and others were unloading landing crafts on that famous day, which has since been etched in memories and on film. An announcement came over a loud speaker that the American flag was about to be raised atop a volcano, Mount Suribachi, 600 feet above them.
"Every man on the beach stopped what they were doing and saluted the flag" as it came to its full height, Munz said. "We lost a lot of men on those four days."
Intense fighting to take the island ended with many casualties, even though American air forces pounded Iwo in the longest sustained aerial offensive of the war.
"No other island received as much preliminary pounding as did Iwo Jima," said Chester W. Nimitz, commander-in-chief of the Pacific Fleet at the time.
But Japanese underground fortresses were barely touched. The U.S. sent more Marines to Iwo than to any other battle - 110,000 Marines in 880 ships. The convoy sailed from Hawaii to Iwo in 40 days. It was the largest armada invasion at that time in the Pacific War. Twenty-one thousand Japanese defenders, burrowed into the volcanic rock of Iwo Jima, awaited them.
Munz said he later climbed Mount Suribachi after the flag was raised, "to see what it looked like from the top."
There are many stories Munz likes to tell about his time in the Marines: when he was stationed in Camp Pendleton, Calif.; in Hawaii after Iwo Jima; and in Japan during the occupation.
Those memories are bright and livid, and bring a bashful smile to his face. But some stories about all the lovely girls he met are filtered and censored - perhaps a little too risqué for children and in mixed company.
While at Camp Pendleton, men on weekend passes would hitchhike 100 miles north to Los Angeles, according to Munz, who was 19 when he entered the service.
"Sometimes we would hitchhike 35 miles (south) to San Diego for a better chance to get a ride to LA," he said. "Truckers were the biggest thing."
On one occasion, the men caught a ride with a trucker pulling a trailer loaded with a Caterpillar. "There were so many men you couldn't see the Caterpillar," Munz added.
He also tells the story about a time when he had been out with a girl and didn't get back to base on time. He missed curfew by a half hour. The military busted his rank from sergeant to corporal, for being AWOL from 7:30 to 10:30 p.m.
After their time on Iwo Jima, the Marines happily returned to Hawaii to rebuild. "We all wanted to get off that (damn) island," Munz said
When Japan's surrender was announced in September, the jubilant men were locked down, before heading to Japan.
"They wouldn't let us out of camp," Munz said laughing. "They were afraid we'd tear up that place up."
"Get ready, we're going, they told us," Munz said.
In his three and a half years of service during WWII, Munz never got a furlough to come home. Not after Iwo Jima, not during the Japan occupation. It's something he is not happy about, even today.
"Guys coming out of boot camp were getting furloughs," he said. "I couldn't catch a break."
The memory of a set of dress blues gone to waste also exasperates him. Munz paid $110 for them in 1943 and sent them home.
"I wanted to wear them when I got home" on furlough, he said.
He eventually sold the uniform, and now wishes he hadn't, but he did wear it one time.
Munz said he and his wife Marian attended a skating party in Monroe several years after the war. A young woman there was wearing her brother's dress blues uniform.
"I told her, I'm going home to put on my dress blues, and we'll skate together," Munz said. It still fit him at the time, and so the two skated together.
"We won first place," he said with a smile.
Born in Green County 89 years ago, Munz now lives alone. Marian died last year after 63 years and one day of marriage. Carl now keeps an active life of card playing, bus tours and community events. He is a life-time member of the Disabled American Veterans, and the Veterans of Foreign Wars, and a yearly member of the American Legion.
He keeps a scrapbook of his WWII days, filled with his military paperwork, black and white photos of his buddies and news clippings of their lives and obituaries.
His living room is decorated with a black and white picture of his 5th Maine Division and a large color print depicting the Iwo Jima flag raising. Munz still remembers the names of the men raising that flag.
Colorful military ribbons and medals prominently displayed in a wooden frame are fading, showing signs of their age. Munz plans to have them reissued and the new ones covered behind glass.
Upstairs in his bedroom, one original painting hangs above his bed on the wall. Scott Signer did the painting about 45 years ago as a Monroe High School student, Munz said. Munz's son, Dusty, bought the painting and gave it to his father as a gift.
It is the artist's colored rendition of Rosenthal's famous Iwo Jima photo. It still holds perhaps the most meaning for Munz among all his military memories, he said.