A TALE OF SIX BOYS
Each
year I am hired to go to Washington, DC, 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. As 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, 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 and
I videotaped him as he spoke to us. I 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 we 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 that 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.
(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. 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?" 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 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. 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 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, my dad didn't see himself as a hero. Everyone thinks
these guys are heroes, because 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 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 .
"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. STOP and thank God for being alive and being
free at someone else's sacrifice. God Bless You and God Bless America.
Karen Pollard
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