My friend, Lewis, sent this to me. Long but well worth it.
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 WWII. 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, 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 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---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 50 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, 'cause they are in a photo and 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. 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 7000
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 Gulf War
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 at someone else's
sacrifice. God Bless!
