thedrifter
11-24-02, 08:33 AM
By Lauri Winters
Sun Newspapers
(Created 11/21/02 9:16:23 AM)
The 82-year-old man with the white hair and cane didn’t look much like a hero.
But, the students in Brooklyn Center who eagerly sought a former Marine’s autograph this Veteran’s Day knew differently.
For more than an hour Monday afternoon the students had listened to Charles W. Lindberg tell the stories of his tour of duty in World War II.
Lindberg, a Richfield resident, is the last surviving member of the first group of Marines to raise the United States flag on Mount Suribachi on the island of Iwo Jima.
No, Lindberg is not in the famous picture taken by Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal.
That image captured the second flag raising that occurred on the island stronghold’s highest point, Lindberg is quick to explain.
The first flag, a 54-inch by 28-inch banner, was raised at 10:30 a.m. on Feb. 23, 1945, by Lindberg and his buddies Hank Hansen, Louis Charlo, Boots Thomas and Harold Schrier and was captured on film by Staff Sgt. Lou Lowery, a Marine photographer. Thomas, Hansen and Charlo would be killed in action.
Lt. Col. Chandler Johnson ordered the small flag replaced by a larger one. The 96-inch by 56-inch flag was raised about four hours later and the history making act preserved on film by Rosenthal.
Clear recollections
Lindberg visited Crestview Elementary School in Brooklyn Park and Earle Brown Elementary School in Brooklyn Center, Monday, Nov. 11, to give students a lesson in history and heroism.
His voice is still steady and his mind clear about those days nearly 60 years ago.
Lindberg was one of 10 children born to a family in Grand Forks, N.D. He was not the oldest or the youngest, but somewhere in the middle, he recalled.
At 21, he was earning $240 a month transporting cars from Detroit, Mich., to Spokane, Wash. In 1942, he found himself out of job when he was in Washington, so he enlisted in the Marine Corps.
After five weeks of basic training in San Diego, the young man from North Dakota volunteered for Carlson’s Raiders, an elite group of men that are now classified as Special Forces troops. Col. Evans F. Carlson organized the elite fighting force.
“I always wanted to be a paratrooper,” Lindberg said. “But the [recruiter for the Raiders] said they wanted men who could walk 50 miles, who were not afraid to die and not afraid to kill.”
Lindberg became a member of the Raiders and was sent to Pearl Harbor in 1942. From there, he went to Midway Island, the New Hebrides, then Guadalcanal and Bougainville in the Solomon Islands.
He showed students slides of Marines marching through shallow rivers and standing in foxholes ankle-deep in water.
“You didn’t take your boots off for a week at a time,” he said. “If you did, your feet would swell up.”
Jungle rot, sores on the lower part of the leg, was another hazard of the damp conditions in the Pacific.
When Lindberg was sent back to the United States for a 30-day leave, he thought his role in the war in the Pacific was over.
The Marines had other plans. Lindberg was promoted to corporal and sent along with thousands of other Marines to Iwo Jima, a small, eight-square-mile volcanic island strategically located between bomber bases in the Marianas and the Japanese mainland. Iwo Jima, with its three airfields could provide a base for fighter escorts and a haven for damaged American bombers.
The Marines sent 110,000 men on 880 ships toward Iwo Jima. For 72 days, American’s bombed the island 24-hours a day, Lindberg said.
“When I heard that, I thought we would be out of there in a couple of days,” he said.
However, the Japanese, under the leadership of General Kuribayashi, were hunkered down below ground in caves dug into the island. The subterranean complex had 1,500 rooms and 16 miles of tunnels. When the U.S. troops landed on the beach, the Japanese were waiting and casualties were high.
Eventually, the Marines were able to divide the island in two and isolate Mount Suribachi.
Lindberg said the battle for the mountain lasted from Feb. 19 to 22. By the evening of Feb. 22, the Americans had the mountain surrounded.
“The next day, we started for the top,” Lindberg said.
The Marines carried 72-pound flame-throwers loaded with napalm.
“We reached the top of the mountain with no opposition,” Lindberg recalled. “We found a long pole and tied the flag to the pole. And, raised the flag.”
It was the first American flag to fly over Japanese territory in the war, he said.
“The soldiers down below cheered and the ships blew their whistles,” Lindberg said. “It didn’t last long. The Japanese started coming out of the caves.”
The Marines used their guns and flame-throwers to fight back and seal the Japanese soldiers in the caves.
Lindberg showed students a slide taken of himself 57 years ago in his combat fatigues.
“I haven’t changed that much,” he quipped.
Epic Pacific battles
Lindberg ticks off the statistics of the battle for Iwo Jima; 6,800 Americans killed, more than 12,000 wounded, more than 20,000 Japanese lost.
Despite the hardships and death, it was not always serious back in 1942.
“We had a few laughs,” he said. “One time we had a few cans of beer. I didn’t like beer, so I sold mine to a guy for $20. He was buying a lot of beer.”
On March 1, Lindberg took a sniper’s bullet in his right arm when he was advancing on a mortar position.
He can roll up his sleeve and show the scars where the bullet entered on one side and exited on the other. The wounded Lindberg was evacuated to Saipan for treatment and then sent back to the United States where he was transferred to Charleston, S.C.
On Jan. 16, 1946, Lindberg was discharged from the Marines. He earned many medals including a Purple Heart and a Silver Star for his service to the country.
When he returned to the United States, Lindberg kept telling people about his role in the first flag raising, but they would not believe him. Everyone was familiar with the event depicted in the Rosenthal photograph.
But it was the flag raising that Lindberg remembered most about the war, and he was determined that people would know the truth.
“That really meant something,” he said.
Post-war tales
Lindberg returned to Grand Forks after his discharge, drove a transport truck hauling gasoline and tried to be a mechanic.
Then a friend asked him if he could wire a house. Lindberg undertook the task, but said when he turned on the switch in the kitchen, the dining room light went on.
“That was my apprenticeship,” he said with a chuckle. “I worked as an electrician for 39 years.”
Lindberg married in 1947, moved to Hopkins in 1951, then Minneapolis and finally Richfield where he and his wife Violett still live. The Lindbergs raised five children, three boys and two girls.
“They were the bookends,” he said of his daughters. “The first and the last.”
His sons followed their father’s example and served in the armed forces.
Today, the Lindberg’s have 14 grandchildren.
And, Lindberg’s six brothers also served in the military. He and four of his brothers saw duty during World War II; the other two served during the Korean War. He is the last one living.
“My mother had plenty of stars in the window,” he said. During the war, a star in the window meant a family member was in the service.
Despite skepticism about his Iwo Jima war story Lindberg kept talking about his role in the first flag raising, and eventually the true story was confirmed. And, he is still telling the story to clubs, organizations and especially to school children.
The students at Earle Brown elementary were full of questions.
How did it feel to be in the war?
“It gets tedious at times and it gets tough. But, you had a job to do and you did it.”
How did it feel when people died?
“It felt bad. You lost a lot of friends, but you did what you had to do. You had no choice.”
Did you think you were going to die?
“I didn’t worry about it.”
How many people did you kill?
“I lost count.”
Do you still have buddies from the war?
“Yes, but they’re all getting old.”
Why did they attack us?
“They figured we were soft, and they could take us.”
In 1995, Lindberg went back to Iwo Jima for one last look.
“I was kind of jittery,” he concedes. “It felt like something went through my body.”
As he thinks about the children he met in Brooklyn Center and Brooklyn Park, Lindberg said he wants them to “remember the truth and the things that happened.”
And, for Lindberg and other members of his generation, the truth is winning World War II was important.
“It was a job, and it had to get done,” he said, grimly.
(Editor’s note: Some of the information in this story was obtained from a variety of Internet sites about Iwo Jima and Charles W. Lindberg.)
Sempers,
Roger
Sun Newspapers
(Created 11/21/02 9:16:23 AM)
The 82-year-old man with the white hair and cane didn’t look much like a hero.
But, the students in Brooklyn Center who eagerly sought a former Marine’s autograph this Veteran’s Day knew differently.
For more than an hour Monday afternoon the students had listened to Charles W. Lindberg tell the stories of his tour of duty in World War II.
Lindberg, a Richfield resident, is the last surviving member of the first group of Marines to raise the United States flag on Mount Suribachi on the island of Iwo Jima.
No, Lindberg is not in the famous picture taken by Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal.
That image captured the second flag raising that occurred on the island stronghold’s highest point, Lindberg is quick to explain.
The first flag, a 54-inch by 28-inch banner, was raised at 10:30 a.m. on Feb. 23, 1945, by Lindberg and his buddies Hank Hansen, Louis Charlo, Boots Thomas and Harold Schrier and was captured on film by Staff Sgt. Lou Lowery, a Marine photographer. Thomas, Hansen and Charlo would be killed in action.
Lt. Col. Chandler Johnson ordered the small flag replaced by a larger one. The 96-inch by 56-inch flag was raised about four hours later and the history making act preserved on film by Rosenthal.
Clear recollections
Lindberg visited Crestview Elementary School in Brooklyn Park and Earle Brown Elementary School in Brooklyn Center, Monday, Nov. 11, to give students a lesson in history and heroism.
His voice is still steady and his mind clear about those days nearly 60 years ago.
Lindberg was one of 10 children born to a family in Grand Forks, N.D. He was not the oldest or the youngest, but somewhere in the middle, he recalled.
At 21, he was earning $240 a month transporting cars from Detroit, Mich., to Spokane, Wash. In 1942, he found himself out of job when he was in Washington, so he enlisted in the Marine Corps.
After five weeks of basic training in San Diego, the young man from North Dakota volunteered for Carlson’s Raiders, an elite group of men that are now classified as Special Forces troops. Col. Evans F. Carlson organized the elite fighting force.
“I always wanted to be a paratrooper,” Lindberg said. “But the [recruiter for the Raiders] said they wanted men who could walk 50 miles, who were not afraid to die and not afraid to kill.”
Lindberg became a member of the Raiders and was sent to Pearl Harbor in 1942. From there, he went to Midway Island, the New Hebrides, then Guadalcanal and Bougainville in the Solomon Islands.
He showed students slides of Marines marching through shallow rivers and standing in foxholes ankle-deep in water.
“You didn’t take your boots off for a week at a time,” he said. “If you did, your feet would swell up.”
Jungle rot, sores on the lower part of the leg, was another hazard of the damp conditions in the Pacific.
When Lindberg was sent back to the United States for a 30-day leave, he thought his role in the war in the Pacific was over.
The Marines had other plans. Lindberg was promoted to corporal and sent along with thousands of other Marines to Iwo Jima, a small, eight-square-mile volcanic island strategically located between bomber bases in the Marianas and the Japanese mainland. Iwo Jima, with its three airfields could provide a base for fighter escorts and a haven for damaged American bombers.
The Marines sent 110,000 men on 880 ships toward Iwo Jima. For 72 days, American’s bombed the island 24-hours a day, Lindberg said.
“When I heard that, I thought we would be out of there in a couple of days,” he said.
However, the Japanese, under the leadership of General Kuribayashi, were hunkered down below ground in caves dug into the island. The subterranean complex had 1,500 rooms and 16 miles of tunnels. When the U.S. troops landed on the beach, the Japanese were waiting and casualties were high.
Eventually, the Marines were able to divide the island in two and isolate Mount Suribachi.
Lindberg said the battle for the mountain lasted from Feb. 19 to 22. By the evening of Feb. 22, the Americans had the mountain surrounded.
“The next day, we started for the top,” Lindberg said.
The Marines carried 72-pound flame-throwers loaded with napalm.
“We reached the top of the mountain with no opposition,” Lindberg recalled. “We found a long pole and tied the flag to the pole. And, raised the flag.”
It was the first American flag to fly over Japanese territory in the war, he said.
“The soldiers down below cheered and the ships blew their whistles,” Lindberg said. “It didn’t last long. The Japanese started coming out of the caves.”
The Marines used their guns and flame-throwers to fight back and seal the Japanese soldiers in the caves.
Lindberg showed students a slide taken of himself 57 years ago in his combat fatigues.
“I haven’t changed that much,” he quipped.
Epic Pacific battles
Lindberg ticks off the statistics of the battle for Iwo Jima; 6,800 Americans killed, more than 12,000 wounded, more than 20,000 Japanese lost.
Despite the hardships and death, it was not always serious back in 1942.
“We had a few laughs,” he said. “One time we had a few cans of beer. I didn’t like beer, so I sold mine to a guy for $20. He was buying a lot of beer.”
On March 1, Lindberg took a sniper’s bullet in his right arm when he was advancing on a mortar position.
He can roll up his sleeve and show the scars where the bullet entered on one side and exited on the other. The wounded Lindberg was evacuated to Saipan for treatment and then sent back to the United States where he was transferred to Charleston, S.C.
On Jan. 16, 1946, Lindberg was discharged from the Marines. He earned many medals including a Purple Heart and a Silver Star for his service to the country.
When he returned to the United States, Lindberg kept telling people about his role in the first flag raising, but they would not believe him. Everyone was familiar with the event depicted in the Rosenthal photograph.
But it was the flag raising that Lindberg remembered most about the war, and he was determined that people would know the truth.
“That really meant something,” he said.
Post-war tales
Lindberg returned to Grand Forks after his discharge, drove a transport truck hauling gasoline and tried to be a mechanic.
Then a friend asked him if he could wire a house. Lindberg undertook the task, but said when he turned on the switch in the kitchen, the dining room light went on.
“That was my apprenticeship,” he said with a chuckle. “I worked as an electrician for 39 years.”
Lindberg married in 1947, moved to Hopkins in 1951, then Minneapolis and finally Richfield where he and his wife Violett still live. The Lindbergs raised five children, three boys and two girls.
“They were the bookends,” he said of his daughters. “The first and the last.”
His sons followed their father’s example and served in the armed forces.
Today, the Lindberg’s have 14 grandchildren.
And, Lindberg’s six brothers also served in the military. He and four of his brothers saw duty during World War II; the other two served during the Korean War. He is the last one living.
“My mother had plenty of stars in the window,” he said. During the war, a star in the window meant a family member was in the service.
Despite skepticism about his Iwo Jima war story Lindberg kept talking about his role in the first flag raising, and eventually the true story was confirmed. And, he is still telling the story to clubs, organizations and especially to school children.
The students at Earle Brown elementary were full of questions.
How did it feel to be in the war?
“It gets tedious at times and it gets tough. But, you had a job to do and you did it.”
How did it feel when people died?
“It felt bad. You lost a lot of friends, but you did what you had to do. You had no choice.”
Did you think you were going to die?
“I didn’t worry about it.”
How many people did you kill?
“I lost count.”
Do you still have buddies from the war?
“Yes, but they’re all getting old.”
Why did they attack us?
“They figured we were soft, and they could take us.”
In 1995, Lindberg went back to Iwo Jima for one last look.
“I was kind of jittery,” he concedes. “It felt like something went through my body.”
As he thinks about the children he met in Brooklyn Center and Brooklyn Park, Lindberg said he wants them to “remember the truth and the things that happened.”
And, for Lindberg and other members of his generation, the truth is winning World War II was important.
“It was a job, and it had to get done,” he said, grimly.
(Editor’s note: Some of the information in this story was obtained from a variety of Internet sites about Iwo Jima and Charles W. Lindberg.)
Sempers,
Roger