olde_fashioned (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
olde_fashioned) wrote2008-08-09 01:33 pm
olde_fashioned) wrote2008-08-09 01:33 pm
Entry tags:
Six Boys and Thirteen Hands
I received this in an email from my grandma, who, as some of you might remember, grew up during World War II and was the daughter of a Naval hero. If indeed true then this is one amazing story. If you've already read this it bears rereading, and if you've never heard this before then you're in for a treat, because this is wonderful and very moving. You have to read it all, because the last line is the one that gets you.
[Note: the "I" in this story is not my grandma, but rather the unnamed author of this piece.]
Each year I am hired to go to Washington D.C. with the
eighth grade class from Clinton, WI 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
soldiers raising the American Flag at the top of a
rocky hill on the island of Iwo Jima, Japan, 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
cheese head, too! Come gather around, Cheese heads,
and I will tell you a story.'
(James Bradley just happened to be in Washington D.C.
to speak at the memorial the following day. He was
there that night to say good night to his dad, who had
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 D.C., 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 people 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 - and it was so
hard that the ones who did make it home never even
would talk to their families about it.
(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... a photograph of his girlfriend.
Rene put that in there for protection because he was
scared. He was 18 years old. It was just boys who
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 was one who
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?' So 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 carried the pain home with him
and eventually died dead drunk, face down, 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. Those
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 kids 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 there 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, like Ira Hayes, 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. In Iwo Jima he probably held over
200 boys as they died. And when boys died in Iwo
Jima, they writhed and screamed, without any
medication or help with the 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 vast and
glorious world for us to live in, freely, but also at
great sacrifice.
Let us never forget from the Revolutionary War to the
current War on Terrorism and all the wars in-between
that sacrifice was made for our freedom.
Remember to pray praises for this great country of
ours and also pray for those still in murderous unrest
around the world.
God Bless You and God Bless America
REMINDER: Everyday that you can wake up free, it's
going to be a great day.
PS. One thing I learned while on tour with my 8th
grade students in DC that is not mentioned here is
that if you look at the statue very closely and count
the number of 'hands' raising the flag, there are 13.
When the man who made the statue was asked why there
were 13, he simply said the 13th hand was the hand of
God.
[Note: the "I" in this story is not my grandma, but rather the unnamed author of this piece.]
Each year I am hired to go to Washington D.C. with the
eighth grade class from Clinton, WI 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
soldiers raising the American Flag at the top of a
rocky hill on the island of Iwo Jima, Japan, 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
cheese head, too! Come gather around, Cheese heads,
and I will tell you a story.'
(James Bradley just happened to be in Washington D.C.
to speak at the memorial the following day. He was
there that night to say good night to his dad, who had
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 D.C., 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 people 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 - and it was so
hard that the ones who did make it home never even
would talk to their families about it.
(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... a photograph of his girlfriend.
Rene put that in there for protection because he was
scared. He was 18 years old. It was just boys who
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 was one who
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?' So 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 carried the pain home with him
and eventually died dead drunk, face down, 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. Those
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 kids 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 there 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, like Ira Hayes, 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. In Iwo Jima he probably held over
200 boys as they died. And when boys died in Iwo
Jima, they writhed and screamed, without any
medication or help with the 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 vast and
glorious world for us to live in, freely, but also at
great sacrifice.
Let us never forget from the Revolutionary War to the
current War on Terrorism and all the wars in-between
that sacrifice was made for our freedom.
Remember to pray praises for this great country of
ours and also pray for those still in murderous unrest
around the world.
God Bless You and God Bless America
REMINDER: Everyday that you can wake up free, it's
going to be a great day.
PS. One thing I learned while on tour with my 8th
grade students in DC that is not mentioned here is
that if you look at the statue very closely and count
the number of 'hands' raising the flag, there are 13.
When the man who made the statue was asked why there
were 13, he simply said the 13th hand was the hand of
God.
no subject
Thanks.
That's my Uncle Ewing up there. He was a tail gunner that got shot down over Mindinao.
no subject
Ohhh!! Really? Did he die? :-(
no subject
The family received notification that he had been shot down; they received notification that he was declared dead; but they never received notification that a body was recovered. Granny was in contact with one of the other mothers from that plane, and she got a "body was recovered" letter -- and I don't see the army letting something like that get lost in the mail.
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I mean it wasn't too many years back (maybe 20) that they found some Japanese soldiers hiding out in the jungle -- they didn't know the war was over.
shrug. I guess we'll never know this side of Heaven.
no subject
I heard that, too!! That's almost scary, and pathetic, in the pitiable sense I mean...
True. I'll sure have a lot of questions to ask! I hope God allows FAQs. ;-)
no subject
I would certainly hope so! :-)
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I started reading Flags of Our Fathers once a while back, but never finished it. *scurries to GoodReads to add it to her to-read list*
no subject
Ack, that's like me and 1776....
Read It!!!
The only thing is that it is not for children or the faint of heart. And don't read some parts of it right before you want to go to sleep. If you know anything about war, you know what I mean.
The book was excellently written and speaks a message that everyone should hear. If you do read it (which I recommend you do) you will never forget it. It will leave a permanent mark on you. Reading that short passage brought it all back.
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Okay, that ends the introduction. As for the post, I have to say that it has left me... well, I haven't got words to describe it. Just tell you that my hands are shacking and I had to stop the sewing I was doing because I couldn't continue. It somewhat reminded me of the stories my mum told of my family during the Spanish Civil War and the Postwar, which was even more terrible than the war itself.
It almost brings me to tears sometimes when I remember it, but yet it needs to be remembered, because there's a terrible custom in my country of forgetting its past, and that's something I do not want to happen with the story of my family.
I also happen to be very interested in the USA history since I made a work for school about the Space Race(I could even name by memory all the USA Presidents from Dwight Eisenhower to Bill Clinton, thought I think now I have forgotten a few), and this was also really interesting to see from the historical point of view.
Well, I'll stop now, because I'm sure you'll be bored now by this comment, but before I close, I just have to say thank you for posting this. :)
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Thank you for the kind words and flattery. You are going to make me blush!! :-)
I am always happy when people of differing opinions are willing to "agree to disagree" and not try to shove another way of thinking down my throat. So thank you for that. ;-) I like what Voltaire said!
That story moved me, as well, which is why I decided to post it. Americans are just as guilty as forgetting their past histories as anyone else, so we need to be reminded of them, too.
I didn't think your comment was boring at all! Thanks for stopping by. :-)
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I'm usually pretty "passionate" when defending my opinions, but not to the point of "I am completely right and you are completely wrong". When we have debates at university, I like to listen to others' opinions and then expose and defend mine (which is usually completely different from most of my class fellows' opinions), and I don't feel ashamed if I have to admit I'm wrong about this thing or the other. After all, I'm human, so I can't be right all the time.
And believe me again when I say that, in spite of my little knowledge of the situation there in the USA, I still think that you have more "Historical Memory" than us. Because here, all the story pre-Civil War, specially the times of the Conquering of America, when the Hapsburgs were in the throne, is strongly associated with Francisco Franco's regime for the exaltation he did of this era which was supposed to be the most splendorous for my country. So, any person who declares an interest for the history of this country is thought to be a fascist, or, at least, with a right-wing ideology (thing that doesn’t happen in most of the cases), and the same happens with the flag. You can’t carry it if you don’t want to get insulted (unless it is on a match of the Spanish Football team). Patriotism in my country is looked like a bad thing, and that saddens me because I think of myself as a patriot.
Thank you for your kindness and patience (I usually write very long comments when talking about “serious subjects”)
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Well as I know nothing of where you come from I won't disagree, but there are some in this country who wouldn't know Abraham Lincoln from George Washington and think the Civil War was the civil rights movement. *facepalm*