thedrifter
11-11-06, 11:45 PM
Rowe remembers how things really were on Iwo Jima
By JOHN FOOKS
Texarkana Gazette
During more than 36 grueling days, the battle for Iwo Jima claimed 25,851 U.S. casualties, including more than 7,000 dead.
Most of the 22,000 Japanese defenders fought to their deaths, many taking their own lives in 16 miles of tunnels connecting 1,500 manmade caverns beneath the 8-square-mile rocky volcanic island one-third the size of Manhattan.
In the four years of World War II, U.S. Marines were awarded 84 Medals of Honor; 27 of those were awarded on Iwo Jima during one month of fighting.
Two out of every three Marines were wounded or killed on Iwo, only one of the three walked off the island.
U.S. Marine Cpl. Jay Rowe, 84, was one who walked off.
“I was a ‘Hollywood Marine,’ always in the rear,” Rowe humbly insists of his service in a battle where “uncommon valor was a common virtue.”
But there were no “rear” or “front lines” on Iwo. The invading U.S. Marines fought from above ground; the defending Japanese fought from below ground. The Marines on Iwo rarely saw a Japanese soldier. But every Marine, everywhere on the island, was always in range of Japanese guns.
At noon last Sunday afternoon, almost 62 years after the real landing, Rowe returned to Iwo during a screening of “Flags of Our Fathers at Cinemark 14 in Texarkana, Texas. Just before the show began, theater manager Brandon Birl announced to the audience that a “special guest” was in their midst.
“I’m told that Mr. Jay Rowe is here in the audience to see ‘Flags of Our Fathers,’” Birl announced. “Mr. Rowe landed on Iwo Jima on D-Day on Feb. 25, 1945. We’re proud to have this gentleman in our theater.”
Rowe was typically timid in the polite applause, saying, “I’m happy to be here. Only by the grace of God am I here.”
Ironically, it is Rowe’s demeanor and attitude that is reflected in the movie, which portrays and follows the lives of the five Marines and one Navy corpsman who performed in the most famous flag-raising and probably the most famous photograph in the history of modern warfare.
Three of the Marines were later killed and are buried on Iwo. Two Marines, including the Pima Indian from Arizona, Ira Hayes, walked off. The Navy corpsman, John “Doc” Bradley, who earned the Navy Cross for bravery under fire, had to be carried off, but was included with Marines Ira Hayes and Rene Gagnon as the “heroes of Iwo Jima” during Bond Tours in America. Their goal: to raise 14 billion dollars to fund America’s final war effort.
Their notoriety quickly became boredom, and finally wearisome. Not one of the “heroes of Iwo Jima” felt like a hero. At one point, Doc Bradley told reporters, “It took everyone on that island and the men on the ships offshore to get the flag up on Suribachi.”
Almost every Marine, especially decorated Marines, will say, “The real heroes are the guys who didn’t come back.” They said it then, and they say it today. Rowe says it, too.
Even the flag raising itself became somewhat of a myth, according to the book that the movie was based on, researched by James Bradley, one of the eight children sired by Doc Bradley and his childhood sweetheart, Betty, following the war. The flag in the most famous photograph in the war was not the first flag raised on Iwo. That honor actually belonged to an overlooked flag-raising an hour earlier, by another, smaller group of Marines, and another, smaller American flag.
Rowe saw both of them go up.
“The first flag was the one that got everybody’s attention,” Rowe said. “You could hear Marines all over the island whooping and shouting, and the ships were even sounding off. When the second, larger flag went up, the one in the photo, it was hardly noticed.”
Even the photograph of the famous, second flag raising was pure accident. While Bill Genaust’s color movie camera captured the few seconds it took to raise the flag, Joe Rosenthal swung his Speed Graphic camera around and snapped off 1/400th of a second out of four seconds of fluid motion. He didn’t even know if he had gotten it or not.
Of the 12 exposures from Rosenthal’s pack taken on Feb. 23, two were ruined by streaks from light that had leaked through the camera housing onto the film. Each of these frames were adjacent to the 10th frame, the one Rosenthal had snapped off without even looking into the view finder. For some inexplicable reason, that frame was not marred by light.
The film was not developed until it reached Guam, but it was instantly recognized for its amazing quality and immediately forwarded stateside, where newspapers from coast to coast published it front page, above the fold, the next day. Thousands upon thousands of copies of the photograph were requested by a public starving not only for good news from the war effort in the Pacific, but for heroes.
And to them, there were six heroes right there, on the front page of their newspaper.
But as the movie makes clear, and Rowe endorses, they didn’t do it to be heroes. They did it for each other, and for their “Esprit D’Corps.”
But the unvarnished truth is, any man, Navy or Marine, who put one foot on that island was a hero, including our unassuming corporal, Jay Rowe.
Ellie
By JOHN FOOKS
Texarkana Gazette
During more than 36 grueling days, the battle for Iwo Jima claimed 25,851 U.S. casualties, including more than 7,000 dead.
Most of the 22,000 Japanese defenders fought to their deaths, many taking their own lives in 16 miles of tunnels connecting 1,500 manmade caverns beneath the 8-square-mile rocky volcanic island one-third the size of Manhattan.
In the four years of World War II, U.S. Marines were awarded 84 Medals of Honor; 27 of those were awarded on Iwo Jima during one month of fighting.
Two out of every three Marines were wounded or killed on Iwo, only one of the three walked off the island.
U.S. Marine Cpl. Jay Rowe, 84, was one who walked off.
“I was a ‘Hollywood Marine,’ always in the rear,” Rowe humbly insists of his service in a battle where “uncommon valor was a common virtue.”
But there were no “rear” or “front lines” on Iwo. The invading U.S. Marines fought from above ground; the defending Japanese fought from below ground. The Marines on Iwo rarely saw a Japanese soldier. But every Marine, everywhere on the island, was always in range of Japanese guns.
At noon last Sunday afternoon, almost 62 years after the real landing, Rowe returned to Iwo during a screening of “Flags of Our Fathers at Cinemark 14 in Texarkana, Texas. Just before the show began, theater manager Brandon Birl announced to the audience that a “special guest” was in their midst.
“I’m told that Mr. Jay Rowe is here in the audience to see ‘Flags of Our Fathers,’” Birl announced. “Mr. Rowe landed on Iwo Jima on D-Day on Feb. 25, 1945. We’re proud to have this gentleman in our theater.”
Rowe was typically timid in the polite applause, saying, “I’m happy to be here. Only by the grace of God am I here.”
Ironically, it is Rowe’s demeanor and attitude that is reflected in the movie, which portrays and follows the lives of the five Marines and one Navy corpsman who performed in the most famous flag-raising and probably the most famous photograph in the history of modern warfare.
Three of the Marines were later killed and are buried on Iwo. Two Marines, including the Pima Indian from Arizona, Ira Hayes, walked off. The Navy corpsman, John “Doc” Bradley, who earned the Navy Cross for bravery under fire, had to be carried off, but was included with Marines Ira Hayes and Rene Gagnon as the “heroes of Iwo Jima” during Bond Tours in America. Their goal: to raise 14 billion dollars to fund America’s final war effort.
Their notoriety quickly became boredom, and finally wearisome. Not one of the “heroes of Iwo Jima” felt like a hero. At one point, Doc Bradley told reporters, “It took everyone on that island and the men on the ships offshore to get the flag up on Suribachi.”
Almost every Marine, especially decorated Marines, will say, “The real heroes are the guys who didn’t come back.” They said it then, and they say it today. Rowe says it, too.
Even the flag raising itself became somewhat of a myth, according to the book that the movie was based on, researched by James Bradley, one of the eight children sired by Doc Bradley and his childhood sweetheart, Betty, following the war. The flag in the most famous photograph in the war was not the first flag raised on Iwo. That honor actually belonged to an overlooked flag-raising an hour earlier, by another, smaller group of Marines, and another, smaller American flag.
Rowe saw both of them go up.
“The first flag was the one that got everybody’s attention,” Rowe said. “You could hear Marines all over the island whooping and shouting, and the ships were even sounding off. When the second, larger flag went up, the one in the photo, it was hardly noticed.”
Even the photograph of the famous, second flag raising was pure accident. While Bill Genaust’s color movie camera captured the few seconds it took to raise the flag, Joe Rosenthal swung his Speed Graphic camera around and snapped off 1/400th of a second out of four seconds of fluid motion. He didn’t even know if he had gotten it or not.
Of the 12 exposures from Rosenthal’s pack taken on Feb. 23, two were ruined by streaks from light that had leaked through the camera housing onto the film. Each of these frames were adjacent to the 10th frame, the one Rosenthal had snapped off without even looking into the view finder. For some inexplicable reason, that frame was not marred by light.
The film was not developed until it reached Guam, but it was instantly recognized for its amazing quality and immediately forwarded stateside, where newspapers from coast to coast published it front page, above the fold, the next day. Thousands upon thousands of copies of the photograph were requested by a public starving not only for good news from the war effort in the Pacific, but for heroes.
And to them, there were six heroes right there, on the front page of their newspaper.
But as the movie makes clear, and Rowe endorses, they didn’t do it to be heroes. They did it for each other, and for their “Esprit D’Corps.”
But the unvarnished truth is, any man, Navy or Marine, who put one foot on that island was a hero, including our unassuming corporal, Jay Rowe.
Ellie