_From the time of the landing on Iwo Jima, attacking Marines seemed to
be moving uphill constantly. This scene is located between Purple Beach
and Airfield No. 2._]
[Illustration: _A lone Marine covers the left flank of a patrol as
it works its way up the slopes of Mount Suribachi. It was from this
vantage point on the enemy-held height that Japanese gunners and
observers had a clear view of the landing beaches._
Department of Defense Photo (USMC) A419744
]
By contrast, the 28th Marines on D+3 made commendable progress against
Suribachi, reaching the shoulder at all points. Late in the day combat
patrols from the 1st Battalion, 28th Marines, and the 2d Battalion,
28th Marines, linked up at Tobiishi Point at the southern tip of the
island. Recon patrols returned to tell Lieutenant Colonel Johnson that
they found few signs of live Japanese along the mountain’s upper slopes
on the northside.
At sundown Admiral Spruance authorized Task Force 58 to strike Honshu
and Okinawa, then retire to Ulithi to prepare for the Ryukyuan
campaign. All eight Marine Corps fighter squadrons thus left the Iwo
Jima area for good. Navy pilots flying off the 10 remaining escort
carriers would pick up the slack. Without slighting the skill and
valor of these pilots, the quality of close air support to the troops
fighting ashore dropped off after this date. The escort carriers, for
one thing, had too many competing missions, namely combat air patrols,
anti-submarine sweeps, searches for downed aviators, harassing strikes
against neighboring Chichi Jima. Marines on Iwo Jima complained of slow
response time to air support requests, light payloads (rarely greater
than 100-pound bombs), and high delivery altitudes (rarely below 1,500
feet). The Navy pilots did deliver a number of napalm bombs. Many
of these failed to detonate, although this was not the fault of the
aviators; the early napalm “bombs” were simply old wing-tanks filled
with the mixture, activated by unreliable detonators. The Marines also
grew concerned about these notoriously inaccurate area weapons being
dropped from high altitudes.
By Friday, 23 February (D+4), the 28th Marines stood poised to complete
the capture of Mount Suribachi. The honor went to the 3d Platoon
(reinforced), Company E, 2d Battalion, 28th Marines, under the command
of First Lieutenant Harold G. Schrier, the company executive officer.
Lieutenant Colonel Johnson ordered Schrier to scale the summit, secure
the crater, and raise a 54″×28″ American flag for all to see. Schrier
led his 40-man patrol forward at 0800. The regiment had done its job,
blasting the dozens of pillboxes with flame and demolitions, rooting
out snipers, knocking out the masked batteries. The combined-arms
pounding by planes, field pieces, and naval guns the past week had
likewise taken its toll on the defenders. Those who remained popped out
of holes and caves to resist Schrier’s advance only to be cut down. The
Marines worked warily up the steep northern slope, sometimes resorting
to crawling on hands and knees.
Part of the enduring drama of the Suribachi flag-raising was the fact
that it was observed by so many people. Marines all over the island
could track the progress of the tiny column of troops during its ascent
(“those guys oughta be getting flight pay,” said one wag). Likewise,
hundreds of binoculars from the ships offshore watched Schrier’s
Marines climbing ever upward. Finally they reached the top and
momentarily disappeared from view. Those closest to the volcano could
hear distant gunfire. Then, at 1020, there was movement on the summit;
suddenly the Stars and Stripes fluttered bravely.
Lusty cheers rang out from all over the southern end of the island. The
ships sounded their sirens and whistles. Wounded men propped themselves
up on their litters to glimpse the sight. Strong men wept unashamedly.
Navy Secretary Forrestal, thrilled by the sight, turned to Holland
Smith and said, “the raising of that flag means a Marine Corps for
another five hundred years.”
Three hours later an even larger flag went up to more cheers. Few
would know that Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal had just
captured the embodiment of the American warfighting spirit on film.
_Leatherneck_ magazine photographer Staff Sergeant Lou Lowery had
taken a picture of the first flag-raising and almost immediately got
in a firefight with a couple of enraged Japanese. His photograph would
become a valued collector’s item. But Rosenthal’s would enthrall the
free world.
Captain Thomas M. Fields, commanding Company D, 1st Battalion, 26th
Marines, heard his men yell “Look up there!” and turned in time to see
the first flag go up. His first thought dealt with the battle still at
hand: “Thank God the Japs won’t be shooting us down from behind any
more.” Meanwhile, the 14th Marines rushed their echo and flash-ranging
equipment up to the summit. The landing force sorely needed enhanced
counterbattery fire against Kuribayashi’s big guns to the north.
The Marines who raised the first flag were Lieutenant Schrier; Platoon
Sergeant Ernest T. Thomas, Jr.; Sergeant Henry O. Hansen; Corporal
Charles W. Lindberg; and Privates First Class Louis C. Charlo and James
Michels. The six men immortalized by Joe Rosenthal’s photograph of the
second flag-raising were Sergeant Michael Strank, Pharmacist’s Mate 2/c
John H. Bradley, Corporal Harlon H. Block, and Privates First Class Ira
H. Hayes, Franklin R. Sousley, and Rene A. Gagnon.
The 28th Marines took Suribachi in three days at the cost of more than
500 troops (added to its D-day losses of 400 men). Colonel Liversedge
began to reorient his regiment for operations in the opposite
direction, northward. Unknown to all, the battle still had another
month to run its bloody course.
[Sidebar (page 26): Rosenthal’s Photograph of Iwo Jima Flag-Raising
Quickly Became One of the War’s Most Famous
[Illustration: _The six men who participated in the second or “famous”
flag-raising on Mount Suribachi were Marines, joined by a medical
corpsman. They were Sgt Michael Strank; Pharmacist’s Mate 2/c John H.
Bradley, USN; Cpl Harlon H. Block; and PFCs Ira H. Hayes, Franklin R.
Sousley, and Rene A. Gagnon. AP photographer Joe Rosenthal recalls
stumbling on the picture accidentally: “I swung my camera around and
held it until I could guess that this was the peak of the action,
and shot.... Had I posed that shot, I would, of course, have ruined
it.... I would have also made them turn their heads so that they could
be identified ... and nothing like the existing picture would have
resulted.”_
Associated Press
]
There were two flags raised over Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima, but not
at the same time. Despite the beliefs of many, and contrary to the
supposed evidence, none of the photographs of the two flag-raisings
was posed. To begin with, early on the morning of 23 February 1945,
four days after the initial landings, Captain Dave E. Severance, the
commander of Company E, 2d Battalion, 28th Marines, ordered Lieutenant
Harold G. Schrier to take a patrol and an American flag to the top of
Suribachi. Staff Sergeant Louis R. Lowery, a _Leatherneck_ magazine
photographer, accompanied the patrol. After a short fire fight, the
54″-by-28″ flag was attached to a long piece of pipe, found at the
crest of the mountain, and raised. This is the flag-raising which
Lowery photographed. As the flag was thought to be too small to be
seen from the beach below, another Marine from the battalion went on
board _LST 779_ to obtain a larger flag. A second patrol then took
this flag up to Suribachi’s top and Joe Rosenthal, an Associated Press
photographer, who had just come ashore, accompanied it.
As Rosenthal noted in his oral history interview, “... my stumbling on
that picture was, in all respects, accidental.” When he got to the top
of the mountain, he stood in a decline just below the crest of the hill
with Marine Sergeant William Genaust, a movie cameraman who was killed
later in the campaign, watching while a group of five Marines and a
Navy corpsman fastened the new flag to another piece of pipe. Rosenthal
said that he turned from Genaust and out of the corner of his eye saw
the second flag being raised. He said, “Hey, Bill. There it goes.” He
continued: “I swung my camera around and held it until I could guess
that this was the peak of the action, and shot.”
Some people learned that Rosenthal’s photograph was of a second
flag-raising and made the accusation that it was posed. Joe Rosenthal:
“Had I posed that shot, I would, of course, have ruined it.... I would
have also made them turn their heads so that they could be identified
for [Associated Press] members throughout the country, and nothing like
the existing picture would have resulted.”
Later in the interview, he said: “This picture, what it means to
me--and it has a meaning to me--that has to be peculiar only to me
... I see all that blood running down the sand. I see those awful,
impossible positions to take in a frontal attack on such an island,
where the batteries opposing you are not only staggered up in front
of you, but also standing around at the sides as you’re coming on
shore. The awesome situation, before they ever reach that peak. Now,
that a photograph can serve to remind us of the contribution of those
boys--that was what made it important, not who took it.”
Rosenthal took 18 photographs that day, went down to the beach to
write captions for his undeveloped film packs, and, as the other
photographers on the island, sent his films out to the command vessel
offshore. From there they were flown to Guam, where the headquarters of
Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, Commander in Chief, Pacific Fleet/Commander
in Chief, Pacific Ocean Areas, was situated, and where the photos were
processed and censored. Rosenthal’s pictures arrived at Guam before
Lowery’s, were processed, sent to the States for distribution, and his
flag-raising picture became one of the most famous photographs ever
taken in the war, or in any war.--_Benis M. Frank_
]
_The Drive North_
The landing force still had much to learn about its opponent. Senior
intelligence officers did not realize until 27 February, the ninth day
of the battle, that General Kuribayashi was in fact on Iwo Jima, or
that his fighters actually numbered half again the original estimate of
13,000.
For Kuribayashi, the unexpectedly early loss of the Suribachi garrison
represented a setback, yet he occupied a position of great strength.
He still had the equivalent of eight infantry battalions, a tank
regiment, two artillery and three heavy mortar battalions, plus the
5,000 gunners and naval infantry under his counterpart, Rear Admiral
Toshinosuke Ichimaru. Unlike other besieged garrisons in the Central
Pacific, the two Japanese services on Iwo Jima functioned well together.
[Illustration: