Each year my video production company is hired
to go to Washington, D.C. with the eighth grade
class from Clinton, Wisconsin 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 men raising the American flag
at the top of Mount Surabachi 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, "What's your name
and where are you guys from?
I told him that my name was Michael Powers and
that we were from Clinton, 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,
D.C. to speak at the memorial the following day.
He was there that night to say good-night to his
dad, who had previously passed away, but whose
image is part of the statue. 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 from 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 twenty-one, 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
seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen 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 eighteen 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 twenty-four. When
Mike would motivate his boys in training camp,
he didn't say, "Let's go kill the
enemy" 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
twenty-seven 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 twenty-seven 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 thirty-two,
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 Epson
salts. Those cows crapped all night."
Yes, he was a fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. Franklin
died on Iwo Jima at the age of nineteen. 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 Kronkite'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 right there 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 in his
own eyes, but a hero nonetheless.
Copyright © 2000 by Michael T. Powers
Write Michael and let him know your thoughts on
this story!
Michael T. Powers, the founder of
HeartTouchers.com and Heart4Teens.com, is the
youth minister at Faith Community Church in
Janesville, Wisconsin. He is happily married to
his high school sweetheart Kristi and proud
father of three young rambunctious boys.
He
is also an author with stories in 29
inspirational books including many in the
Chicken Soup for the Soul series and his own
entitled: Heart Touchers "Life-Changing
Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter." To
preview his book or to join the thousands of
world wide readers on his inspirational e-mail
list, visit: HeartTouchers.com
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