Editor's note: Today's column is the second in a series by John Waelti on the American Atomic Veterans.
August 1944: The Mariana Islands were now in American hands. With loss of the Marianas the more thoughtful of senior Japanese officers believed the war to be lost. But there was no surrender.
Until late 1944, the Japanese people were relatively untouched by the war. This would change, for American occupation of the Marianas lying 1,200 miles directly south of Japan brought B-29 bombers within range of Japanese cities.
December 1944: The first high altitude bombing raids on Japan began. In early 1945, three additional airfields on Guam were completed and General Curtis LeMay took over the bombing command. In early March a high altitude raid by 300 B-29s on Tokyo was the most devastating attack to that point.
There remained a major problem. Although Japan had lost its best flyers, even relatively unskilled flyers exacted a heavy toll on unescorted bombers. Damaged bombers had no place to land on the return flight to the Marianas.
Midway between Japan and the Marianas, 660 miles from Tokyo, was a lamb chop-shaped piece of lava rock that would serve that purpose - Iwo Jima. The battle for Iwo Jima, of which there are many accounts, was the costliest to the Marine Corps of all the Pacific battles. Less well known is its continuing saga of triumph and tragedy.
The south end of Iwo Jima consists of an extinct volcanic mountain, Mt. Suribachi.
This prominent feature provided a dominant command of the landing beaches below and had to be taken.
When major resistance on the mountain was broken, Lt. Harold Schrier led a 40-man patrol to the top, encountering unexpectedly light resistance. One of the Marines carried a small (54 x 28 inches) flag. Marines found a piece of pipe on which to hoist the flag. As photographer Lou Lowry for Leatherneck Magazine shouted "ready," the flag was hoisted and Lowry shot the picture as the flag reached full height.
As the flag was visible from below, offshore boats sounded their horns and Marines on the ground cheered. For the first time, the American flag flew over sovereign Japanese territory. The battle would now be carried to the rest of the island.
While the flag had its desired effect on morale, it was so small as to be hardly visible from the landing zone. A battalion commander, Lt. Col. Chandler Johnson, sent his runner with a full (96 x 56 inches) size flag to another patrol ascending the mountain. Johnson's inelegantly worded but totally believable message was that he wanted the flag run up high so that "every son of a bitch on this whole cruddy island can see it."
A group of journalists, including Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal, followed the party carrying the second flag. On the way up, the other photographer, Lou Lowry, was on his way down. "You're late. But you might like to go up. It's a helluva view from there."
Rosenthal almost decided not to go. But he continued and arrived at the top as some Marines were carrying a pipe from a demolished radar station. He spotted a Marine with the big flag. "What's doing, fellas?"
Lt. Schrier explained that they were hoisting a new flag, but the smaller one wouldn't be lowered until the big one went up. Rosenthal considered shooting both flags in one shot, but rejected the idea of getting both in the same frame. People were milling around, nobody seeming to know what the signal would be to raise the large flag.
Without warning, the flag poles started to move. Lt. Schrier said, "I'm not in your way, am I, Joe - and there it goes."
Rosenthal swung his camera away from another Marine who had crossed his field of vision. His camera was set at 1/400th of a second, between f/8 and f/10, as the shutter clicked.
Joe Rosenthal had his picture, but wasn't sure what he had.
What Rosenthal could not have known was that in that 1/400th of a second, he shot a picture that would take the country by storm, and become both an American iconic symbol, and a basis for continuing controversy and tragedy. The very anonymity of the men - it wasn't even clear how many were in the shot - symbolized teamwork, common people working together, struggle, and triumph - all in one shot. Critics praised the photo for its artistic criteria, its symmetry, the angle of the flagpole - even the breeze caught the flag just right.
Only later would come the search for names of the men and hometowns that the wire services desired. And later would come the controversy - was the shot legit? Were they being fired on as they raised it. No, not at that moment, but three of them would soon lie in makeshift graves on the island. What about the men who raised the first flag? In a twist of fate, it was not Lowrey's, but Rosenthal's photo that had the aesthetic qualities that stirred the emotions of a nation and captured the spirit of the Pacific war.
Three of the surviving flag raisers, Pfc. Ira Hayes, Pfc., Rene Gagnon, and Navy Corpsman John Bradley were ordered back to the States to aid in FDR's 7th War Bond Drive. Politicians and celebrities lavished praise, food, and drink on the three heroes. For Hayes, the Pima Indian who insisted he was mistakenly identified as one of the flag raisers, and already had a drinking problem, it was a disaster.
Victory would not end Iwo Jima's impact on American culture - or on the lives of those who won it. Rosenthal's photo would continue to inspire authors, artists, movies and monuments - and continuing controversy and tragedy.
Four years later, 1949, the saga of Iwo Jima would bring Hayes, Gagnon, and Bradley together again - this time with a "B Western" cowboy actor who would rise to super stardom even as, with mixed results, the three combat vets struggled in civilian life.
To be continued:
- Monroe resident John Waelti can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net
August 1944: The Mariana Islands were now in American hands. With loss of the Marianas the more thoughtful of senior Japanese officers believed the war to be lost. But there was no surrender.
Until late 1944, the Japanese people were relatively untouched by the war. This would change, for American occupation of the Marianas lying 1,200 miles directly south of Japan brought B-29 bombers within range of Japanese cities.
December 1944: The first high altitude bombing raids on Japan began. In early 1945, three additional airfields on Guam were completed and General Curtis LeMay took over the bombing command. In early March a high altitude raid by 300 B-29s on Tokyo was the most devastating attack to that point.
There remained a major problem. Although Japan had lost its best flyers, even relatively unskilled flyers exacted a heavy toll on unescorted bombers. Damaged bombers had no place to land on the return flight to the Marianas.
Midway between Japan and the Marianas, 660 miles from Tokyo, was a lamb chop-shaped piece of lava rock that would serve that purpose - Iwo Jima. The battle for Iwo Jima, of which there are many accounts, was the costliest to the Marine Corps of all the Pacific battles. Less well known is its continuing saga of triumph and tragedy.
The south end of Iwo Jima consists of an extinct volcanic mountain, Mt. Suribachi.
This prominent feature provided a dominant command of the landing beaches below and had to be taken.
When major resistance on the mountain was broken, Lt. Harold Schrier led a 40-man patrol to the top, encountering unexpectedly light resistance. One of the Marines carried a small (54 x 28 inches) flag. Marines found a piece of pipe on which to hoist the flag. As photographer Lou Lowry for Leatherneck Magazine shouted "ready," the flag was hoisted and Lowry shot the picture as the flag reached full height.
As the flag was visible from below, offshore boats sounded their horns and Marines on the ground cheered. For the first time, the American flag flew over sovereign Japanese territory. The battle would now be carried to the rest of the island.
While the flag had its desired effect on morale, it was so small as to be hardly visible from the landing zone. A battalion commander, Lt. Col. Chandler Johnson, sent his runner with a full (96 x 56 inches) size flag to another patrol ascending the mountain. Johnson's inelegantly worded but totally believable message was that he wanted the flag run up high so that "every son of a bitch on this whole cruddy island can see it."
A group of journalists, including Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal, followed the party carrying the second flag. On the way up, the other photographer, Lou Lowry, was on his way down. "You're late. But you might like to go up. It's a helluva view from there."
Rosenthal almost decided not to go. But he continued and arrived at the top as some Marines were carrying a pipe from a demolished radar station. He spotted a Marine with the big flag. "What's doing, fellas?"
Lt. Schrier explained that they were hoisting a new flag, but the smaller one wouldn't be lowered until the big one went up. Rosenthal considered shooting both flags in one shot, but rejected the idea of getting both in the same frame. People were milling around, nobody seeming to know what the signal would be to raise the large flag.
Without warning, the flag poles started to move. Lt. Schrier said, "I'm not in your way, am I, Joe - and there it goes."
Rosenthal swung his camera away from another Marine who had crossed his field of vision. His camera was set at 1/400th of a second, between f/8 and f/10, as the shutter clicked.
Joe Rosenthal had his picture, but wasn't sure what he had.
What Rosenthal could not have known was that in that 1/400th of a second, he shot a picture that would take the country by storm, and become both an American iconic symbol, and a basis for continuing controversy and tragedy. The very anonymity of the men - it wasn't even clear how many were in the shot - symbolized teamwork, common people working together, struggle, and triumph - all in one shot. Critics praised the photo for its artistic criteria, its symmetry, the angle of the flagpole - even the breeze caught the flag just right.
Only later would come the search for names of the men and hometowns that the wire services desired. And later would come the controversy - was the shot legit? Were they being fired on as they raised it. No, not at that moment, but three of them would soon lie in makeshift graves on the island. What about the men who raised the first flag? In a twist of fate, it was not Lowrey's, but Rosenthal's photo that had the aesthetic qualities that stirred the emotions of a nation and captured the spirit of the Pacific war.
Three of the surviving flag raisers, Pfc. Ira Hayes, Pfc., Rene Gagnon, and Navy Corpsman John Bradley were ordered back to the States to aid in FDR's 7th War Bond Drive. Politicians and celebrities lavished praise, food, and drink on the three heroes. For Hayes, the Pima Indian who insisted he was mistakenly identified as one of the flag raisers, and already had a drinking problem, it was a disaster.
Victory would not end Iwo Jima's impact on American culture - or on the lives of those who won it. Rosenthal's photo would continue to inspire authors, artists, movies and monuments - and continuing controversy and tragedy.
Four years later, 1949, the saga of Iwo Jima would bring Hayes, Gagnon, and Bradley together again - this time with a "B Western" cowboy actor who would rise to super stardom even as, with mixed results, the three combat vets struggled in civilian life.
To be continued:
- Monroe resident John Waelti can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net
