thedrifter
07-07-08, 03:46 PM
Veteran recounts battle for Iwo Jima
Cynthia Culp Allen
Sunday, July 6, 2008
More than 60 years ago, Corning resident Bud Gott was an uninvited guest at Iwo Jima. A year and a half ago, he was invited to be the guest of the Japanese.
In March 2007, Gott returned to Iwo Jima with his son, Ted Gott, and daughter-in-law Debbie, both pharmacists in Chico. He showed them the exact spot where he had landed on Feb. 19, 1945. There’s a monument now where the U.S. flag was raised on Feb. 23, 1945.
In memory, Gott hung his dog tags on it, while many young Marines presently stationed on Iwo Jima lined up to have him autograph their helmets. A highlight of the trip for Gott was meeting General Kuribashi’s grandson.
“Your grandfather and I were adversaries,” he said, shaking hands. “But he was a military genius to enable his 22,000 defenders to hold off 70,000 Marines for 36 days.”
It was Gott’s own grandson who finally coerced him into talking about Iwo Jima. Over five years ago at a Corning Rotary meeting, the program was brought by Ann Ilian of the Red Bluff Noon Rotary Club and her father, a former World War II paratrooper.
Program chairman Bucky Bowen commented that 1,100 World War II veterans pass away each day. Bud’s grandson, Tom Gott, asked if he could interview his grandfather, document the story and give a presentation in his eighthgrade class. Gott had never before spoken of what took place on his personal DDay. But he couldn’t turn down his grandson. This is the story he told.
In 1945, Bud Gott was a Marine on his way to a Japanese territory 65 miles south of Japan, an island called Iwo Jima. The United States wanted control of the island as it already contained two airfields with a third under construction. There were radar stations there, and the means to destroy U.S. bombers.
Securing Iwo Jima would put an end to that. The invasion was well planned with the support of 485 warships and 72 days of bombing and shelling. But what the Americans didn’t know was that Iwo Jima was the most fortified island in history.
Under General Kuribashi’s leadership, 11 miles of tunnels had been constructed 75 feet below the surface with a command center, 50 underground rooms plus storage and conference rooms, a communication center, and a 400-bed hospital (St. Elizabeth in Red Bluff is licensed for 76 beds).
When 70,000 Marines including Gott landed on Iwo Jima, an island smaller than the city limits of Corning, they stepped into a “killing field.” The surface was covered with crossfire. The houses were made of blocks and difficult to destroy.
In the first hour after the invasion, there was modest fire. But then General Kuribashi ramped it up to maximum fire power, for a battle that raged for 36 days.
In a little over a month, the U.S. lost 6,821 Marines, with almost 20,000 others wounded and 6,000 more suffering from battlefield stress. To illustrate the devastation, the United States has lost 4,113 troops in Iraq (3,353 in combat) since March 19, 2003.
Bud Gott was one of the few who survived Iwo Jima. He lived on to fulfill a lifelong dream of a career in education, including graduation from Chico State University, earning a master’s from Columbia University, working as Corning High School’s superintendent for many years, and marrying his wife, Jan. He is father to son Ted and grandfather to two grandsons, Eric and Tom Gott of Chico.
Gott’s experience on Iwo Jima was not without incident, however. Early in the battle, as he and some fellow Marines were scampering over a hill, a sniper opened fire. Gott quickly fell into a ravine, followed by his buddy who yelled, “I’ve been hit!” When Gott checked his friend’s backside, the only thing hit was his canteen.
On the fourth day of the invasion, six Marines raised a flag at the top of Mount Suribachi, creating euphoria among the troops. But the battle was not yet won. Twenty-nine days later, Gott looked out of his tent that evening and thought he saw his troops in a trench. He stormed over there to tell them what “idiots” they were. Instead, Gott laughs when he says he was the only idiot.
“Enemy fire hit me with a grenade,” he remembers. “I ended up in a military hospital.”
Gott tells the story of his surgeon offering him a swig from a bottle of brandy before the operation.
“I don’t want alcohol,” exclaimed the wounded soldier, lying in the buff on the table. “I just want this shrapnel out of my butt!” And with that remark, the doctor promptly drank the brandy himself.
Gott received the Purple Heart for his courage in battle. But with his usual charming humor, he said that he wasn’t very smart. “If you’re going to get wounded, do it on the first day of battle, not at the end!” he said, laughing.
There were more medals of honor given for Iwo Jima than any other battle in U.S. history. But Gott said the real satisfaction comes in knowing that they had saved the lives of over 25,000 airmen who were able to safely land American planes after that battle. For Gott’s family, there is also the deep satisfaction of a grandfather’s legacy.
Ellie
Cynthia Culp Allen
Sunday, July 6, 2008
More than 60 years ago, Corning resident Bud Gott was an uninvited guest at Iwo Jima. A year and a half ago, he was invited to be the guest of the Japanese.
In March 2007, Gott returned to Iwo Jima with his son, Ted Gott, and daughter-in-law Debbie, both pharmacists in Chico. He showed them the exact spot where he had landed on Feb. 19, 1945. There’s a monument now where the U.S. flag was raised on Feb. 23, 1945.
In memory, Gott hung his dog tags on it, while many young Marines presently stationed on Iwo Jima lined up to have him autograph their helmets. A highlight of the trip for Gott was meeting General Kuribashi’s grandson.
“Your grandfather and I were adversaries,” he said, shaking hands. “But he was a military genius to enable his 22,000 defenders to hold off 70,000 Marines for 36 days.”
It was Gott’s own grandson who finally coerced him into talking about Iwo Jima. Over five years ago at a Corning Rotary meeting, the program was brought by Ann Ilian of the Red Bluff Noon Rotary Club and her father, a former World War II paratrooper.
Program chairman Bucky Bowen commented that 1,100 World War II veterans pass away each day. Bud’s grandson, Tom Gott, asked if he could interview his grandfather, document the story and give a presentation in his eighthgrade class. Gott had never before spoken of what took place on his personal DDay. But he couldn’t turn down his grandson. This is the story he told.
In 1945, Bud Gott was a Marine on his way to a Japanese territory 65 miles south of Japan, an island called Iwo Jima. The United States wanted control of the island as it already contained two airfields with a third under construction. There were radar stations there, and the means to destroy U.S. bombers.
Securing Iwo Jima would put an end to that. The invasion was well planned with the support of 485 warships and 72 days of bombing and shelling. But what the Americans didn’t know was that Iwo Jima was the most fortified island in history.
Under General Kuribashi’s leadership, 11 miles of tunnels had been constructed 75 feet below the surface with a command center, 50 underground rooms plus storage and conference rooms, a communication center, and a 400-bed hospital (St. Elizabeth in Red Bluff is licensed for 76 beds).
When 70,000 Marines including Gott landed on Iwo Jima, an island smaller than the city limits of Corning, they stepped into a “killing field.” The surface was covered with crossfire. The houses were made of blocks and difficult to destroy.
In the first hour after the invasion, there was modest fire. But then General Kuribashi ramped it up to maximum fire power, for a battle that raged for 36 days.
In a little over a month, the U.S. lost 6,821 Marines, with almost 20,000 others wounded and 6,000 more suffering from battlefield stress. To illustrate the devastation, the United States has lost 4,113 troops in Iraq (3,353 in combat) since March 19, 2003.
Bud Gott was one of the few who survived Iwo Jima. He lived on to fulfill a lifelong dream of a career in education, including graduation from Chico State University, earning a master’s from Columbia University, working as Corning High School’s superintendent for many years, and marrying his wife, Jan. He is father to son Ted and grandfather to two grandsons, Eric and Tom Gott of Chico.
Gott’s experience on Iwo Jima was not without incident, however. Early in the battle, as he and some fellow Marines were scampering over a hill, a sniper opened fire. Gott quickly fell into a ravine, followed by his buddy who yelled, “I’ve been hit!” When Gott checked his friend’s backside, the only thing hit was his canteen.
On the fourth day of the invasion, six Marines raised a flag at the top of Mount Suribachi, creating euphoria among the troops. But the battle was not yet won. Twenty-nine days later, Gott looked out of his tent that evening and thought he saw his troops in a trench. He stormed over there to tell them what “idiots” they were. Instead, Gott laughs when he says he was the only idiot.
“Enemy fire hit me with a grenade,” he remembers. “I ended up in a military hospital.”
Gott tells the story of his surgeon offering him a swig from a bottle of brandy before the operation.
“I don’t want alcohol,” exclaimed the wounded soldier, lying in the buff on the table. “I just want this shrapnel out of my butt!” And with that remark, the doctor promptly drank the brandy himself.
Gott received the Purple Heart for his courage in battle. But with his usual charming humor, he said that he wasn’t very smart. “If you’re going to get wounded, do it on the first day of battle, not at the end!” he said, laughing.
There were more medals of honor given for Iwo Jima than any other battle in U.S. history. But Gott said the real satisfaction comes in knowing that they had saved the lives of over 25,000 airmen who were able to safely land American planes after that battle. For Gott’s family, there is also the deep satisfaction of a grandfather’s legacy.
Ellie