Lest we forget

skeets

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Oct 2, 2009
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Today is the day we honor those brave fallen hero's that gave their all to defend that un repayable debt we all owe. We honor the men that never became Fathers or Grand Fathers, and the women that never got a chance to be a Mother or Grand Mother. To them, we all owe a debt that can never be repaid. All we can say is Thank You for your service, and giving us a chance to be free.
 
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Ikc1990

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Well said amen
 

ayak

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Taps will be playing at 3pm here.
 

GeoHorn

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A True Story passed down to me, Titled:

Six Boys, Thirteen Hands


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 capital, 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.'

(It was James Bradley)who 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 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, DC, 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 wrote a book called 'Flags of Our Fathers'.
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 ..(from Johnstown, PA).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 of them who lived to walk
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,
drowned in a very shallow puddle, 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 combat caregiver. On Iwo Jima he probably held
over 200 boys as they died. And when boys died on 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.

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 the13th hand was the hand of God.
 
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wgator

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Jul 28, 2018
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When I checked into my first command in 1975 at Marine Barracks 8th & I, my roommates had a picture hanging on the mirror we looked at every morning while shaving. It was a black and white picture of headstones at Arlington National Cemetary with the words "For those that will fight for it...FREEDOM has a flavor the protected shall never know." Truer words were never spoken. To this day I still can picture this in my mind.
 
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PoTreeBoy

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My Dad was a B17 pilot. His bombardier, Leroy Drummond, was killed in a bombing mishap on a November 1944 mission. He also lost 2 hometown friends, brothers. One was killed flying a P38 in the Pacific and the other piloted a B24 out of England. I'm sure Dad thought of these guys often.
We need to remember the guys that die today, doing what they are asked to do under poorly appreciated missions.