thedrifter
05-31-09, 09:06 AM
Somber remembrance for Iwo Jima survivors
Saturday, May 30, 2009 10:13 PM EDT
By JENNIFER ABEL
Staff writer
NEWINGTON — The Battle of Iwo Jima was over 64 years ago, and the number of remaining survivors grows smaller each year. On Saturday afternoon a handful of those survivors assembled for a memorial service at the Iwo Jima Survivors Memorial Park, which straddles the line between Newington and New Britain.
Joseph Sokoloski, a sergeant with the Connecticut National Guard, was one of the Guardsmen at the ceremony directing people to parking spaces and helping disabled veterans reach their seats.
“I’ve done this every year except the year I was deployed overseas,” he said. “There used to be a lot more survivors. Twelve, 14 years ago when we started, there were a lot more people here. They’d park up and down the street.”
About a hundred people were at Saturday’s ceremony. One of them was Win Gentile, whose late husband, George, founded and designed the memorial park, which opened in 1995.
George Gentile’s old friend John Conant, a fellow Iwo Jima veteran, is now president of the Iwo Jima Memorial Historical Foundation, and was Saturday’s master of ceremonies. Conant stood at a temporary podium set up next to the monument’s eternal flame.
The main feature of the memorial is an enormous block of polished black granite, inscribed with the names of every Connecticut man who died at Iwo Jima. Atop the granite block is a statue of the iconic “flag raising at Iwo Jima” photograph; the men are statues but the flag is real.
Pat Whelan of Glastonbury, clad in Scottish regalia, played the bagpipes, including a mournful version of the Marine Corps Hymn while four Marines in dress uniforms presented the colors at the beginning of the ceremony.
“I would like to thank the survivors,” Conant said, and asked the survivors to stand. Only six people stood in the front row: four elderly men and two women. One of the men, E. Gage Hotaling, later came forward to stand next to the podium, where a little brass bell stood on a pillar.
Conant somberly read out the names of every Connecticut man who died on Iwo Jima. After each name, Hotaling rang the bell.
Hotaling was an Army chaplain on Iwo Jima, and had the unpleasant task of burying the bodies of almost 2,000 fallen Americans, including the majority of those from Connecticut. Perhaps he personally remembered some of those names for whom he tolled the bell.
After that somber recitation, Conant spoke again to the crowd.
“The raising of the flag was one of the most reproduced photographs in history,” he said. But many people thought it happened at the end of the battle, which wasn’t the case. “The flag raising marked the beginning of more than 28 days of living and dying hell,” Conant said. He also dismissed the notion that the flag-raising was a symbol of glory. “For the men at Iwo Jima there was no glory. If you were in a car accident where your entire family perished, would you get out of the car and celebrate that you’re still alive? I doubt it ... glory was not the motivation of this monument. The seeds were grief, pain and [survivor’s] guilt.”
Jennifer Abel can be reached at jabel@ctcentral.com or by calling (860) 225-4601, ext. 306.
Ellie
Saturday, May 30, 2009 10:13 PM EDT
By JENNIFER ABEL
Staff writer
NEWINGTON — The Battle of Iwo Jima was over 64 years ago, and the number of remaining survivors grows smaller each year. On Saturday afternoon a handful of those survivors assembled for a memorial service at the Iwo Jima Survivors Memorial Park, which straddles the line between Newington and New Britain.
Joseph Sokoloski, a sergeant with the Connecticut National Guard, was one of the Guardsmen at the ceremony directing people to parking spaces and helping disabled veterans reach their seats.
“I’ve done this every year except the year I was deployed overseas,” he said. “There used to be a lot more survivors. Twelve, 14 years ago when we started, there were a lot more people here. They’d park up and down the street.”
About a hundred people were at Saturday’s ceremony. One of them was Win Gentile, whose late husband, George, founded and designed the memorial park, which opened in 1995.
George Gentile’s old friend John Conant, a fellow Iwo Jima veteran, is now president of the Iwo Jima Memorial Historical Foundation, and was Saturday’s master of ceremonies. Conant stood at a temporary podium set up next to the monument’s eternal flame.
The main feature of the memorial is an enormous block of polished black granite, inscribed with the names of every Connecticut man who died at Iwo Jima. Atop the granite block is a statue of the iconic “flag raising at Iwo Jima” photograph; the men are statues but the flag is real.
Pat Whelan of Glastonbury, clad in Scottish regalia, played the bagpipes, including a mournful version of the Marine Corps Hymn while four Marines in dress uniforms presented the colors at the beginning of the ceremony.
“I would like to thank the survivors,” Conant said, and asked the survivors to stand. Only six people stood in the front row: four elderly men and two women. One of the men, E. Gage Hotaling, later came forward to stand next to the podium, where a little brass bell stood on a pillar.
Conant somberly read out the names of every Connecticut man who died on Iwo Jima. After each name, Hotaling rang the bell.
Hotaling was an Army chaplain on Iwo Jima, and had the unpleasant task of burying the bodies of almost 2,000 fallen Americans, including the majority of those from Connecticut. Perhaps he personally remembered some of those names for whom he tolled the bell.
After that somber recitation, Conant spoke again to the crowd.
“The raising of the flag was one of the most reproduced photographs in history,” he said. But many people thought it happened at the end of the battle, which wasn’t the case. “The flag raising marked the beginning of more than 28 days of living and dying hell,” Conant said. He also dismissed the notion that the flag-raising was a symbol of glory. “For the men at Iwo Jima there was no glory. If you were in a car accident where your entire family perished, would you get out of the car and celebrate that you’re still alive? I doubt it ... glory was not the motivation of this monument. The seeds were grief, pain and [survivor’s] guilt.”
Jennifer Abel can be reached at jabel@ctcentral.com or by calling (860) 225-4601, ext. 306.
Ellie