The flagraisers at Iwo Jima made history, though they couldn’t have known it at the time. When six American fighting men raised a United States flag atop Mount Suribachi on February 23, 1945, an Associated Press photographer quickly snapped a photograph that became The Photograph – the most reproduced, most iconic photograph ever taken. And it changed forever the lives of all involved in it.
Flags of Our Fathers, a 2000 bestseller, was later adapted into a 2006 Clint Eastwood film. The book was written by James Bradley, whose father, Jack Bradley, was a U.S. Navy corpsman identified as being one of the flagraisers. Bradley recalls how his father almost never talked about his service in the Second World War – not about the Battle of Iwo Jima, and certainly not about The Photograph. This book represents Bradley’s attempt to understand the experiences of his father and the other flagraisers, both before and after the war.
The six flagraisers came from across the United States of America, and reflected the diversity of the American experience. Mike Strank was a Pennsylvania sergeant who was known and respected for his professionalism and his dedication to his men. Franklin Sousley was a cheerful young man from the Appalachian highlands of Kentucky. Harlon Block had been a star player for a legendary high school football team in Texas’s Rio Grande Valley. Ira Hayes was a Native American, from the Pima nation of Arizona. Rene Gagnon, from a New Hampshire mill-town family, was known for his darkly handsome looks. And Jack Bradley, the author’s father, grew up in a devoutly Catholic household in Wisconsin.
It is moving to read Bradley’s tribute to the ordinary Marine riflemen who had to do the dirty work of dislodging Japanese soldiers from Pacific islands that those soldiers were determined to defend to the death:
“It was the rifleman, slogging ashore in the teeth of murderous fire. It was the rifleman, surrounded by the screams and the floating corpses of his buddies. It was the rifleman, scared and exposed and unprotected by armor of any sort, peering through the smoke and confusion for a glimpse of an individual enemy. It was the rifleman who would determine the outcome of America’s War.” (p. 105)
The reference to “America’s War” sets forth Bradley’s sense that, in contrast with the European theatre of war where allies of many nations worked together, the Pacific war was virtually an all-American affair – an assessment with which at least some Australians and New Zealanders might well disagree.
Bradley also writes well about the flagraisers’ Japanese adversaries on Iwo Jima, virtually all of whom died on the island, emphasizing “the corruption of Bushido that was wrought by Japan’s malignant military regime. A traditional samurai might expect to die in combat and be honored for it. He might kill himself to atone for a moral mistake or a failure of courage. But suicide as an expression of ultimate sacrifice for one’s country was not a traditional samurai value. This was a construct of a deranged military establishment cynically bent on extracting the maximum utility from its issen gorin [“penny soldiers”] (p. 207). The difference between the Japanese and American forces on Iwo Jima, as Bradley sees it, is that “The Japanese enemy would fight to the death for the Emperor. That motive made them formidable. But these boys would fight to the death for one another. And that motive made them invincible” (pp. 146-47).
Part of Bradley’s purpose in writing Flags of Our Fathers is to dispel popular illusions regarding the Battle of Iwo Jima. For one, the flagraising shown in The Photograph was not the first flag-raising of the battle; a first flagraising had occurred earlier on February 23, 1945, but that first flag had been concealed by a Marine officer who did not want that flag taken away from his unit. It was that second flagraising that photographer Joe Rosenthal snapped – a moment that flagraiser Gagnon dismissed as being about “as significant as going to the mailbox” (p. 334), but a picture that spoke volumes to an embattled American nation’s sense of itself:
“People would always remember where they were the moment they saw the photo, as others would later remember President Kennedy’s death. The flagraising photograph signaled victory and hope, a counterpoint to the photos of sinking ships at Pearl Harbor that had signaled defeat and fear four years before” (p. 220).
Another widely held misconception regarding Iwo Jima is that The Photograph represents the moment of final victory in the battle. The picture has that look, but in fact the battle went on for another month; and three of the flagraisers – Strank, Sousley, and Block – would be among the 6800 Americans killed in the battle.
The three surviving flagraisers faced a celebrity, a “hero” status, that they did not want. As Jack Bradley once told his son James, “The heroes of Iwo Jima are the guys who didn’t come back” (p. 343). But the American people wanted heroes, and the U.S. government needed help raising money to push the Pacific War forward toward final victory. Consequently, Bradley, Gagnon, and Hayes were drafted for a new form of service: soliciting citizen donations for the nation’s Seventh Bond Drive, “the Mighty 7th.”
Each of the flagraisers responded differently to this pressure. Bradley returned as quickly as possible to quiet civilian life as a funeral director in Wisconsin, and politely turned down all requests for interviews about his war years. Gagnon spent his post-war years waiting, sometimes bitterly, for his celebrity status to bring him a prosperity that never quite materialized. And Hayes slowly succumbed to alcoholism.
Some readers of Flags of Our Fathers will be aware that the U.S. Marine Corps, after an exhaustive investigation, concluded that the sixth flagraiser shown in The Photograph was not Jack Bradley, but rather was a U.S. Marine named Howard Schultz. Author James Bradley has said since then that he thinks his father was in the first photograph but believed he was in the second -- not that any of that takes away from Jack Bradley's heroism during the battle.
One finishes Flags of Our Fathers with a strong sense of the heroism of the Marines who fought at Iwo Jima – the engagement that Bradley calls “America’s most heroic battle” (p. 247). Perhaps part of the reason why this book speaks to me so strongly is because I live in Northern Virginia, a region where war and its remembrance are so prominent an aspect of the social and cultural landscape. Yesterday, for example, my wife and I took a visiting friend to Arlington National Cemetery. On the way home, we drove by the Iwo Jima Memorial, where Felix de Weldon's sculpture preserves the image from The Photograph as part of the official iconography of the Washington area.
And there is another reason why I am thinking of this book today, on this Father’s Day. My father, who served in the United States Navy as a lieutenant j.g., is buried with my mother at Arlington. On this Father’s Day, I find myself thinking about my father’s service to this nation, as Bradley has spent so much of his life thinking about his father’s service. Like Bradley’s father, my father came home from his military service, got married, built a career, and raised children in a safe, peaceful, secure, stable household. All of us who were fortunate enough to have a dad like Bradley’s father, or like my father, will find Flags of Our Fathers to be a particularly powerful reading experience.