Sisters veteran remembers Iwo Jima

Sisters resident H.T. Jerald looked back on Veterans Day at one of the most famous battles of World War II. The image of the raising of the flag at Iwo Jima is an American icon and arguably the best known and most reproduced war photograph in history. Jerald's perspective is poignant because he was there.

Iwo Jima was critical to both Japan and the United States, and the battle waged for possession became the turning point in the war for both sides. For the Japanese, Iwo Jima was home soil and a part of Japan only 650 miles from Tokyo. It was administered by the Tokyo metropolitan government, and no foreign army in Japan's 5,000- year history had stood on Japanese soil. The island was critical to America because of its location, midway between Japan and American bomber bases in the Marianas.

Jerald recently attended the showing at Sisters Movie House of "Flags of Our Fathers," a highly acclaimed movie about the six men who were photographed raising the flag on Mount Suribachi during the battle for Iwo Jima (see "Flags of Our Fathers' is a sobering war memorial," The Nugget, November 8, 2006, page 13).

Jerald says of the movie, "It brought back a lot of memories. … It was about as close to the real thing as I have seen anywhere." He also admired the accuracy of the portrayal of the battle saying, "There were a couple of scenes there that I was actually pretty much involved in."

The battle of Iwo Jima was unique among WWII battles in the Pacific theater. The Japanese didn't defend the island on the surface; they fought the battle entirely from beneath the ground. The Japanese had 1,500 bunkers and hide-holes burrowed into the rock that were connected by 16 miles of tunnels. The Japanese strategy called for no Japanese survivors, and by the eighth day of the battle only one soldier was captured, who was unconscious when he was found. The Japanese Commander of Iwo Jima was the brilliant General Kuribayashi who had served as deputy military attaché in Washington D.C.

In Tokyo months before the invasion, General Kuribayashi had been told "if America's casualties are high enough, Washington will think twice before launching another invasion against Japanese territory." Kuribayashi wrote to his wife upon his return to Iwo Jima and long before the American invasion, "You must not expect my survival." His preparations, fortifications and strategy are considered marvels in the history of warfare.

Four days into the battle it was decided to place an American flag on Mt. Suribachi; the task had been assigned to Easy Company which had suffered 40 percent casualties since landing. The first flag was raised at 10 a.m. on February 23, 1945, and there was a lot of noise-making according to Jerald.

"The Japanese really got upset," Jerald said. "They started throwing mortars, rockets, everything they had at us."

It was decided that the first flag wasn't big enough, and so a short time later the first flag was lowered, and the second flag was raised.

"That first flag was very, very small. So they got a flag from a LST (a naval landing craft) and took it up to the top and put it up," Jerald said.

It was the photograph by Joseph Rosenthal of the second flag raising that galvanized the world. When Jerald was asked about the second flag raising, he replied, "I was so busy; I didn't see the second one."

Jerald said, "We lost a lot of men during that battle."

In fact, the American casualties at Iwo Jima were one-third of all the Marine Corps' casualties in the whole war.

Jerald said of his friends from the battle, "I used to go to the reunions, but everyone of them has passed away. I am 84."

Joseph Rosenthal, the photographer who took the iconic image of the second flag raising, died on August 20 of this year. He once said of his war photos, "It was like shooting a football game. You never knew what you got on film."

None of the men who were involved in either the first or second flag raising is alive today. John "Doc" Bradley was the only person involved in both flag raisings; he was a Navy Corpsman who always claimed he "just jumped in to lend a hand."