Setting the Record Straight About the Raising of the Flag Over Iwo Jima
Most Americans will forever remember the recent photo of the brave NYC firemen raising the flag over the massive wreckage site of the World Trade Centers. The photo, forever etched in our minds, was especially reminiscent of the victorious flag raising over Iwo Jima some fifty-six years ago. However, the story behind the famous WWII photo is more complicated than most of us know.
When the first American flag on captured Japanese territory was raised atop Mr. Suribachi on Feb. 23, 1945, the landing ships carrying troops to the beaches of Iwo Jima blew their whistles as the men cheered.
"I was there," says 76-year-old Lewis Rollins of Parkersburg, West Virginia.
Rollins enlisted in the Navy on July 23, 1943, at the age of 17. His tour of duty included an assignment to the 1`22 man crew of LST 588. His memories, and those of the other 16 survivors of LST 588, are not of the most reproduced photograph in the history photography. The picture that has been burned into the minds of millions as the symbol of the end of World War II is of the second flag raised that day.
Rollins and the men of the 588 remember the first, a flag raised some four hours before Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal arrived. The photo won Rosenthal a Pulitzer Prize and made heroes of three of the six men in it. The other three, along with 6,818 other Americans and over 20,000 Japanese, were killed before the Americans finally took the island 36 days later.
Cpl. Charles (Chuck) W. Lindberg, then 24, carried a flame-thrower with Company E, 28th Marines. He took part in raising the first flag on Mt. Suribachi and earned a Silver Star Medial for bravery. Of the 40 men that made the climb that day, 36 were killed or wounded in the subsequent fighting on Iwo Jima. Lindberg, now 80, is the last surviving flag raiser and attends the annual reunions held by the men of the 588.
A combat photographer, Lou Lowery, took a picture of that first flag raising. Later the battalion commander decided he wanted a bigger flag, in part to make sure the Japanese on the other end of the island could see it. He was also concerned that a souvenir hunter might take the flag. The first flag came down and the second went up; both flags are currently on display in Washington, D.C.
The men in Rosenthal's famous photo who survived Iwo Jima were flown home by the order of President Franklin Roosevelt and became instant celebrities. They, like the photo, symbolized the fact that the long, painful war was near an end.
The men who raised the first flag-Jim Michels, Hank Hansen, Boots Thomas, Harold Schrier, and Chuck Lindberg-received no such public acclaim. They were, nonetheless, the heroes of Mt. Suribachi. The cheers from the beach were their reward.
The flag raising was hardly the end; before it was over, Iwo Jima would have the highest casualty rate of any engagement in Marine Corps history. There were 27 Medals of Honor awarded, 22 to Marines and 5 to Navy corpsmen.
The survivors of the LST 588 get together every year, though the group is getting smaller. Each of the 17 survivors is still married to the woman who waited for him that day he cheered the flag; each other tem deserve our cheers today.
Their reunions are held in a different city each year as one of the members of the group volunteers to host the event. The host makes the arrangements and plans the activities, which traditionally include visits to any service related site in the area. [The 2001 reunion was held in Phoenix, Arizona in October.]
Rollins joined the U.S. Navy Reserves in August 1947, after returning from active duty in April 1946. He worked at the Visco's plant until 1952 when he joined Carbide Metals. He finished his tour with the reserved in July, 1995 and continued to work as Carbide until his retirement in 1985.
The Rollins', married nearly 54 years, have four children, 6 grandchildren, and 5 great-grandchildren. He raised and presented show horses until shortly after his retirement when he turned his energies to breeding Doberman Pinscher guard dogs. Rollins is an outdoorsman and enjoys hunting, fishing, and his dogs. Trying to reach him by telephone often results in his wife's response, "He's out running his dogs."
Watching the flag go up over Mt. Suribachi gave Rollins a respect for our nation's emblem that has stayed with him for a lifetime. "We need to honor our flag more," he says. Whether it's a flag flown in front of a home or a flag raised in battle, it represents the country that so many men willingly gave their lives to defend.
Rollins is concerned that the history of WWII is either not being taught, or is being taught incorrectly. Rosenthal's photo is regularly reproduced on decorative glass and ceramic ware, on pins and plaques, or in books and magazines. Rollins calls or writes trying to set the record straight, to make the public aware of the price paid in human lives for the raising of the first flag. Often, his letters go unanswered.
Lindberg, the last survivor of all the flag raisers in any of the photos, has long ago accepted that the second flag is the one of which the public is aware. Rollins is not so complacent. He believes that Lindberg is a true American hero, and finds it unacceptable that nobody knows his name. To the men of the 588, as honorable as each of their individual stories may be, the flag is much more than a piece of cloth-it is an oath of honor.
This story first appeared in the Parkersburg News & Sentinel, October 2000. It is reproduced here with the kind permission of its author, Melina Huddy. Photos were provided by Mr. And Mrs. Lewis Rollins.